Date: Tue, 06 Apr 1999 02:28:19 GMT From: Joe Camp Subject: Mr. Martin, Teacher : Codes: M/t Mr. Martin, Teacher 1/1 Codes: M/t (oral, anal) By: idc90@hotmail.com Warning: The following story is a work of fiction. It is a fantasy. It never happened, except in the author's imagination. This story contains sex between a man and a teen boy. The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and children. If you are underage, or this is illegal where you are, you already know what your supposed to do. If this kind of story turns you off, find something else. Fiction and Real Life: This story is all fiction. The characters in this story engage in unprotected sex. That's not real life if you want to live to old age. The characters are a product of my imagination, and can't catch anything unless I want them to. Any resemblance of characters to an actual person is purely coincidental. The author retains the copyright of this story. Placing this story on a web site without the authors permission is a violation of that copyright. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- My Thanks To A Special Man For Editing This Story. Mr. Martin, Teacher I was grading a large stack of test papers when I came upon it. It was buried between Lisa's and Jane's tests. Lisa is in my Second period class, and Jane is in my Third period. The paper was written on a computer and wasn't signed. It was better quality paper then what the math tests were on. If I had been paying attention, it really stuck out. I started reading. "Dear Mr. Martin," (That's me.) "I know you could never like a boy like me, but I have to tell you that I love you. I'm still a virgin, and I wish you would be my first. I think about you every night when I jack off. I use a big carrot up my ass, and pretend it is your dick. It makes me cum even harder, but as my cum shoots out, I wish it was really you. I wish I could taste your cum. I know you would never like me, that way, but I had to tell you." I was dumbfound. I didn't know what to think. My students are 16 and 17; I'm 63 years-old. Well, I guess I do act younger, and I look younger. But to a kid? Who could have written it? Carl? No, he's going with that girl, what's-her-name. Josh? I haven't seen him with anyone. He just doesn't strike me as the type. Benny? No. He's too mousy. He's afraid of his own shadow. He could never work up the nerve to write something like that. Wes? Not likely, no spelling errors! Poor Wes can mis-spell the word 'at'. Who could it BE? No one in the First period could have put it where I found it. It would have to be after First period. Who? Whoever it was that wrote that note doesn't really know me. My wife had died the previous year. It had been a bad marriage. I'd had a male lover when I was 18, but I had bought the American Dream. A wife, house, kids, and two cars in the garage. I love my kids dearly, but I should never have married. My wife and I were faithful to each other, but only because of our beliefs. We both knew it was a mistake. The last few years she was alive, it was harder and harder to pretend we loved each other. I have to admit, I looked at some of my students a little differently after she died. There are some damn good looking boys in my classes, I've had some wild jack-off sessions, jut thinking about some of them. I have always been too afraid to approach any of them. I like my job, and don't want to get fired. I had to force myself to stop wondering about who could have sent the note, and finish grading the tests. The next morning, as I was getting ready for the day, the note flashed before my mind. I sat thinking about it as I had my second cup of coffee. As I was getting ready for my shower an idea came to me. I would just make an announcement to each of my classes saying "I want to thank the writer of that beautiful note." That's it. No pressure on the boy, but open if he wants to come forward. I took the time to check myself in the mirror. Flat stomach, firm ass. Chest not as toned as it once was, but not bad for a 5 foot 11 inch, 160 pound, 63 year-old. I don't look like one of those football players in my class, but I'm not bad for my age. I dressed with extra care. I wanted to look my best for my young Romeo. I was sure he couldn't be in First period, but I made the announcement to that class also. I started in with the lesson, and we were about 20 minutes into the class, when I noticed Bobby Smith cupping his package. Could it be he? Was he trying to send me a message? No. It can't be. There is just no way he could have gotten the note into that spot in the stack of tests. Bobby kept fondling himself, and it was damn distracting. Finally the bell rang, and I was yelling out the home work assignment as the kids ran from the class. Jim smiled at me as he left. Could it be he? Second period. Cory Williams seemed to take an awfully long time to rearrange his dick. Looks like he has a hard-on. Wonder what gave it to him? ME? No. He keeps looking over at Betty. Get your mind back on the lesson. All day long, I noticed boys adjusting themselves. It seemed as if half the boys in each class, had to play with their cocks sometime during the period. I'm not sure, but it looked like, during Fifth period, that Mike Wilson was jacking off. It was hard to tell though, he wears those loose, baggy pants, but his hand was in his pocket a long time, and there seemed to be some movement in his lap. I had to sit down at my desk, before anyone noticed I was getting hard. At least pants these days aren't as tight as when I started teaching. Back in the 60's, there was just no way a guy could hide a hard-on. Final bell. I straightened my desk, killing some time. I always make myself available to any student that needs help, after school. Maybe Romeo would show up. Will Jackson came in the room, and asked me to explain the problem. As I was going over it once again with him, his hand moved to his crotch, and he was massaging himself. I lost my train of thought, and he looked up and grinned as he noticed where I was looking. I felt myself blush as we returned to the problem. No one else came in, so I locked the classroom and headed home. All week long, it was the same thing. Watch this boy or that boy playing with himself in class. It used to be the girls I watched, back in the '70's. I used to love those micro-mini skirts. Half the girls then didn't even wear underwear. Now, it seems to be the boys' turn to act sexy all the time. Man, would I like for it to be Jason Masters. That is one hot looking guy. He's satisfied with the C's he makes. Football player. Blond hair, in that undercut surfer style. Baby blue eyes, that you could sink into. But, I think he's dating Linda something-or-other. Jim Franks wouldn't be bad either. Dark brown hair, a little too long, but........ Friday at last. I watched very closely as the tests were placed on my desk. I didn't see anyone slip anything into the pile. I waited 15 minutes before getting ready to leave. I seldom have anyone stop by on Fridays. I gathered the tests up, and there it was, on the very bottom of the stack. Same paper, folded in half! "Dear Mr. Martin," "Is there a chance for me? If there is, put a small x at the top left hand corner of the blackboard." I rushed over to the blackboard, and put an x in the corner. All weekend to wait to find out who my Romeo is. The weekend dragged. I kept my grandkids Saturday night, as my daughter and her husband went to dinner and a movie. I enjoy the kids, but I couldn't keep my mind off Romeo. Who is he? It's driving me crazy. Monday morning at last. I watched each of the boys, as they entered the classroom. None of them seemed to be looking at the blackboard. None with a slight blush. Nothing unusual. I started the lesson. Had all the boys always grabbed themselves like that? Am I just now noticing it? It's hard to keep my mind on what I'm supposed to be teaching. Well, it's the last class. I once again yelled at them to turn in their home-work before leaving, as they rushed out after the bell. All day, and I still hadn't spotted Romeo. Bob Knight was standing there. Is it him? He's beautiful. Dark hair, nice smile, clean-cut all-American boy. Oh. He just needs help with the work. Jane and Benny are all that's left. Benny? It wouldn't surprise me if he is gay, but Benny? Benny held back until Jane was gone. He opened his book, and asked his question, before whispering "It's me, Mr. Martin." Benny. I told him he was going to need extra help with his problem, and suggested he should come over to my house, later. I started to give him my address, but he already had it. I wondered how. I hurried home, making a stop at the corner store for some sodas. I checked the house quickly, making sure there were no dirty dishes in the sink or underwear lying around. There was a knock at the door, and I rushed to open it. Benny stood there, with his head down. I invited him in, and he scooted past me. I shut the door, and he stood there in the middle of the livingroom looking very bashful. I went over to him, and gently raised his head, with my forefinger hooked under his chin. He gave me a bashful smile, and I smiled back at him. He was a good looking boy when he smiled. His dark brown eyes sparkled. His hair was neat and well combed. I asked him if this was really what he wanted. "More then anything," he replied. I leaned forward to kiss him, and as soon as our lips met, his arms went around me. His tongue hungrily searched for mine. His hands were roaming over my body, as he moaned from deep inside. He broke our kiss, as he nuzzled my neck. His hands were busily working the buttons on my shirt. Benny? This is shy, mousy Benny? I took him by the hand, and led him to my bedroom. My shirt was half off, and Benny was in a hurry. He was working his shirt off over his head, as we walked down the hallway. He was hopping on one leg as a shoe came off, followed by his sock. He shook his shirt off his arm, as I released his hand. He hobbled around the bedroom, as he got his other shoe and sock off. His jeans fell to the floor. His jockeys were tented out, as he stepped out of his pants. He slipped them down, and I had to stop undressing, and stare at his wonderful dick. All six inches of it pointed at the ceiling, and was framed by his brown pubic bush. His ripe nuts were hanging close to his body. He spun around, like a dancer, and showed off his bubble butt. He grinned as he told me, "It's all yours, Mr. Martin." I was just staring at his young beautiful body. The body Benny was giving me. I was overcome. I was light headed. All my blood had to be in my 7- inch dick. I was harder then I remember being in a long time. I could have used my dick as a coat hook. I broke my trance when Benny moved to me, and as he was undoing my belt, he whispered, "Like what you see, do you?" Benny now seemed to be the teacher. I could only nod. I placed the palms of my hands on his firm young chest, as he opened my pants. His hand was on my hard dick, feeling and testing the size. "Oh, yeah," he moaned, as he ran his hand down my tender, sensitive cock. I was afraid I was going to cream my underwear right then. Slowly, Benny removed my underpants. He squatted as he lowered them to my ankles. His mouth was at my crotch, and he ran his tongue up all seven inches, before gently pushing me towards the bed. I sat on the edge, as he removed my shoes and socks. As soon as we both were naked, he gently pushed me back, and our bodies melded into one. His hard dick was teasing mine, as once again, our tongues found the other's mouth. We squirmed up onto the bed, without letting go of our grip on the other. Hands everywhere, as we hugged and rocked each other. Benny started kissing my chest, travelling lower and lower. He took my cock into his hot young mouth, and I knew this was what I wanted. I had forgotten what it felt like. My wife wouldn't do that. His mouth left my hard dick, as his tongue licked my nuts. I had to tell him that I wanted to taste his cock. It had been so long since I had one in my mouth; 45 years too long. I kissed his neck, then worked my way down to his dime-sized nipple. Mmmmm it was good. Benny was squirming under my mouth. Lower I went, kissing and licking, until I came to his hard rod. I gave it a tender bath with my tongue as Benny moaned. I was smelling the smell I had long ago forgotten. A young man. Musty. Sweet. Sexy. "Do it, Mr. Martin. Fuck me. Fuck me now. Please, Mr. Martin. I need to be fucked." Benny was begging. I quickly searched my mind for what I had that we could use as lube. Benny just rolled off the bed, and with his hard cock swinging back and forth, hurried to his jeans. He pulled a tube of lubrication out of his pocket, as he announced, "I used to be a Boy Scout. Always prepared." He grinned as he bounded back to the bed. He applied it to my dick, and it twitched each time he touched it. He had already got himself ready before he had came over, so, he just freshened himself a little, and we were ready. He lay on his back, and lifted his legs. I was trembling as I aimed my hard-on at his puckered ass hole. Too many years. Just too many, that I had gone without this. The head of my dick entered his hot passion-tunnel without any resistence. Slowly, I pushed on in. Benny was moaning with pure pleasure. I bottomed out. Oh, Lord, how I have missed this. No woman can ever compare to a hot young man's ass. "Teach me, Mr. Martin. Teach me what a real man is like." Benny moaned. I just smiled into those lust-filled eyes, as I started fucking him. Each time the fat head of my dick passed his hard prostate, pre-cum would squirt from the tip of his cock. I reached down and scooped it up with my finger. I brought it to my mouth and licked my finger clean. Oh, man, was it good. I scooped up more, but Benny pulled my finger to his mouth, and sucked it in. We smiled at each other as we fucked and shared his pre-cum. It was getting too good. I had to speed up, as I fucked faster and faster into Benny's wonderful ass. I was going as fast and hard as I could, groaning and moaning, when I heard Benny: "Omigod! Oh, Mr. Martin! OOOOOOOOOOHH!" I was unloading a month's supply of cum deep into Benny, as I moaned, then screamed. We rested as we were, and I had gone soft before I withdrew from his great ass. I leaned forward and cleansed Benny's tummy of cum with my tongue. The taste was sweet. How could I have gone 45 years without that taste, I asked myself. I slurped his soft cock into my mouth, searching for the last drop of his nectar. We lay together for 15 or 20 minutes, before getting up and following the trail of clothes, as we dressed. We had a can of pop in the livingroom. As Benny was getting ready to go, he asked if he could come back for more "special tutoring" sometime. I told him he could, anytime he needed tutoring. The next day, I noticed Benny was sitting up straighter, and didn't duck his head when anyone said something to him. He even talked in class! He was smiling as he talked to Jason Masters, and they left the room together. I hope it isn't long before he needs some more tutoring! The End Comments: idc90@hotmail.com Flames Happily Ignored :) I answer all e-mails. If you wrote and didn't get a reply, I didn't get it. Thanks, Joe