Date: Fri, 22 May 2020 23:50:17 +0000 From: Alex Subject: Testing The Teacher This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work contains material of a sexual nature. Readers must be of legal age according to local laws to open, read, copy, or save this work. The author in no way endorses sexual contact with minors. Please observe all local and federal laws. You can email me at lexlexnifty@protonmail.com. Apologies for any errors. All Rights Reserved Please donate to Nifty.Org (http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html) to keep our stories alive! I'm driving home, sweaty and exhausted from football practice, when I see the big, white, box truck blocking the road. I blare my horn impatiently. 'I don't have time for this shit,' I think to myself as I press down on the horn of my new Camaro. "Oh shit! Sorry!" I hear a man's voice come from behind the truck. My car was facing the driver's door, and as he walks by, the first thing I notice is his ass. I wonder what underwear he has on. In my imagination, it's definitely a jockstrap. The annoying, constant beep of the truck breaks me from my daydream and I look up and notice his face. He's handsome, probably in his mid 20s, possibly Latino, definitely not white though. I smile and give him a quick head nod and drive around the truck and up the street to my house. My dad and I live on the corner lot, giving us a killer view of the city from our backyard. I park in the driveway and grab my gym bag, throwing it over my shoulder before heading inside. "Hey dad," I shout, dropping my bag in the mudroom. "Jordan? Is that you?" I hear my dad call out from the kitchen. "Yeah, I'm home. Hey, did you see someone's moving into Old Man Morales's house?" I say coming into the kitchen and finding my dad eating a sandwich at the breakfast bar. "How was practice? And yeah, Shelly told me his nephew inherited the home," my dad says, looking up from his computer. Shelly was dad's current plaything. She knew all the gossip in town. I didn't like her too much and to be honest, I don't think my dad did either. She has a great ass and a nice set of tits, or so he says. My dad, Frank Rossi, is an Italian Stallion. He is handsome, and he knows it. He's also a bit of a man whore. When you look like him though, it's kind of hard not to be. The guy is 6'3" tall, 190 pounds (190 cm, 86 kg), has short cropped hair, with a tiny bit of gray at his temples. He has a short beard, and a tuft of dark hair that peeks out of his shirt. "It was fine. Coach said he thinks we can go all the way this year," I say, running my fingers through my sweaty, wavy, brown hair. "I didn't even know Old Man Morales had any family," I add, opening the fridge and grabbing some ham and mayo. "Yeah me neither," he says, "And I told you. All the two-a-day workouts really paid off, man. Just wait, you're gonna have all the college scouts looking at you." "Yeah, I don't know if I want that, dad. Don't get me wrong, I love playing football, but..." I start to say but his phone rings and he puts his hand up. "Rossi speaking," he says, and I roll my eyes. This happened every time we tried to have a conversation about something. "Can you hold on a second?" my dad asks, muting his phone. "Sorry son. Look we will talk about this later. I gotta go. There's money on the counter for dinner. I'm staying at Shelly's tonight. Love you kiddo! Good luck on your first day tomorrow," he says, kissing the top of my head and takes off. "Oh, and take a shower! You stink," he says, before resuming his conversation. "Of course, dad..." I say to myself, rolling my eyes. It's not that my dad doesn't care or that he's a bad father. He's a great dad, he's just always working. He's never missed a game since I started playing in the sixth grade. He's my biggest fan and I'm his. The only thing we don't see eye to eye on is my future. Dad assumes I'll follow in his footsteps and play football in college like he did, get my MBA, and then join him at his consulting firm. Don't get me wrong, my dad's job has afforded us this house, new cars, and some of the best things money can buy, but it isn't what I want for myself. Truthfully, I don't even know what I want. I'm 17 for fucks sake. Name one kid my age who's got it figured out; I'll wait. I do know, however, that I want to do something involving music. I have an acoustic guitar and I have a pretty good voice, not that I've ever sung in front of anyone. I've started recording a few songs for fun on my own though. Nothing professional, just on my phone. The next morning, summer break is officially over and school starts. My last first day of high school, ever. Normally, I couldn't reach my phone fast enough to snooze the alarm, but today I wake up a bit excited. I yawn and stretch my 6'1" frame and scratch my junk. I get up quickly before my morning wood sets in and makes it impossible for me to piss. I shower and get dressed, taking a look at myself in the mirror one last time. My muscular, hairy legs filled out my black jeans. I take pride in my body, making sure I hit the gym daily. Even though I am wearing a gray Champion sweater, you can still see the definition in my chest and my arms. I push a bit of my hair back, grab my phone and snap a selfie. My bright green eyes, half closed when I smile, and my dimples become more pronounced. Whereas my dad is a hairy beast, I am mostly smooth. I have hair in the typical places, my legs, my pits, my crotch. However, I did inherit a little treasure trail that leads down to 8 inches of thick, juicy fuck meat. As if that wasn't enough, I have low hanging bull nuts that are always full. What can I say, I'm blessed. I walk into the empty English classroom and I see *him* again. The guy I saw with the moving truck blocking the road. "So, you're a teacher and a road blocker?" I ask, taking a seat up towards the front. Normally, I'd sit towards the back of the classroom, but now that I was seeing him up close, there was no way I was sitting far away from him. I've known I was gay for a while, but no one else knows. No one's asked. Not that I care, nor would I lie if they did ask. "Excuse me?" He asks looking up at me. I flash him my signature, toothy smile and he blushes and fumbles with his papers. He looks up at me and I can tell he recognizes my face. His hazel eyes contrast against his olive skin. His dark hair is cropped short, his jaw square and masculine. I can tell he works out some, the way he fills out his striped button up shirt. Then, there's that ass... I bite my lip and I swear he catches me looking at him. I smirk and he blushes, quickly taking a seat at his desk. "You know... you were blocking the road the other day. I was coming home from practice and your moving truck was in the way," I say, as I could see he was still trying to place where he knew my face. "Oh, that's right! Christian Morales. Mr. Morales to you," he says, but before I can reply, more students start piling in. "Jordy!" Bryce Jones calls out and pulls me into a friendly hug. Bryce and I have been friends since I can remember. We became friends because we were the only two guys who grew 4 inches taller than everyone else during puberty. Just like me, he's mixed, too. His mom is white, and his dad is black, giving him a light caramel complexion. Whereas, I am Italian and Mexican. He's got a mop of golden-brown curls that drives the girls crazy. "Brycy boy! What's up, fucker! Oh, sorry teach," I say, giving Christian an apologetic grin. "Alright, alright everyone settle down," he says but everyone keeps talking. This isn't something new. You know the drill; a new teacher comes in and you ignore them or push their buttons to find out just how much you can get away with. "He said shut up!" I shout, when I hear Christian's plea go unanswered again. The class goes quiet and everyone looks up to the front of the room. "Thank you, but I got this," He says, giving me a smile, "Look guys, I get it. I'm the new teacher and you have to do your whole initiate the new teacher thing, but that's not gonna fly in here. You respect me, I respect you. Got it?" He says assertively and we all nod. 'Alright this guy's got some balls, I like it,' I think to myself. He takes attendance and I can see he keeps waiting until I raise my hand. "Jordan Rossi?" "Big daddy J, if you're nasty," I say, and the other students laugh and roll their eyes. "Dumbass," Bryce snickers. "Let's stick with Jordan, if you don't mind. My name is Christian Morales. I'm 25. My uncle recently passed away and I inherited his house here in town this summer. I just finished moving into it yesterday. I grew up around here, so I know the area and the school. I want each of you to tell me your name and something about who you are, one at a time," he says. Honestly, it was the first time I had ever listened to the first day of school icebreakers. I quickly start jotting things down about myself; captain of the football team, wrestling team, and soccer team. I want to impress him. "Who wants to go first?" he asks. He looks right at me and I want to raise my hand, but I don't want to be that kid. Plus, I have to play it cool. Bryce nudges me to get my attention. "Hey, come over tonight after practice," he whispers. "Guys, is there something you'd like to share with the class?" Christian asks us, and I shake my head and stop talking. "Yeah, alright," I say to Bryce. I hadn't seen Bryce all summer as his parents had dragged him to Alabama to visit his mom's family. He hated every minute of it, but his aunt was sick, and his mom wanted to be there just in case. "Jordan, go ahead and start us off," Christian says. "Oh umm, well... I'm Jordan Anderson," I say standing up, "I just turned 17 this summer. I'm the captain of the football and wrestling team. Oh, and the soccer team too," I add cockily. "Golden boy," I hear somebody say behind me, and I hear a few laughs. "That's good Jordan, those are things you do, though. I'm wanting you all to tell me more about who you are," he says. I feel silly so I sit down. I wanted to impress him, but I just made myself look dumb. As class drags on, I occasionally catch Christian looking in my direction. When I look up, he quickly turns his head. Over the next few weeks, we fall into the same routine, he'll look, and I catch him almost every time. Sometimes, I'd catch glimpses of him in the bleachers at practices and my games. I never asked him to come, he was just there. On the weekends, I'd see him go for a run. He'd stretch on his front lawn for a few minutes before taking off and returning home sweaty. I think to myself, it's now or never. I throw on my running shoes and a thin pair of shorts, forgetting my underwear, and jog outside. "Hey Mr. M. You mind if I join you?" I ask, but he doesn't hear me. He scrunches his face at me and removes his headphones. "Hey Jordan. What was that? I'm sorry I didn't hear you," he says. I can see him try not to stare at my bare, muscular chest. My pecs are glistening with a bit of sweat, my nipples getting hard. "No biggie. I just asked if I could join you on your run today. Usually my dad and I go, but he's working," I say. He smiles and nods nervously, "You think you can keep up?" "The real question is, can you keep up with me?" I ask, confidently. AUTHOR'S NOTES- Hey guys! Hope all of you have been safe during quarantine. The isolated time has given me time to gather my ideas and write something new. I was greatly inspired by the stories of Headline Hayden and Basketball Jock & Prof. Those stories had younger tops seducing the older bottom, told from the bottoms perspective. This is my attempt at telling the story through a top's eyes. Like all my other stories I write, I welcome any and all constructive criticism. Special thanks to hornysuckboy for reviewing and editing the story! You are amazing and make sure the story is easy to read!! I appreciate you Check out some of my other work- My Little Brother, The Slut https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/my-little-brother-the-slut/ The Thirst For More https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/the-thirst-for-more/ Uncle Tyler's Release https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/uncle-tylers-release/ Becoming Daddy's Faggot https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/becoming-daddys-faggot Alex