Date: Wed, 19 Jun 2019 18:47:36 -0400
From: Michael Davies <skinnybro69@gmail.com>
Subject: The Classics Teacher, Chapter 2

The Classics Teacher

This is entirely a work of fiction, and all of its characters are
completely made up. If reading a story about an adult engaging in sexual
acts with a minor makes you uncomfortable, or if it is illegal to read such
material in your area, then please leave since I'm not sure what you're
doing here in the first place. I do not condone sexual acts with minors;
this is all just fantasy and will remain as such. This is my first story
published on Nifty, so please be kind. I'd love to hear back from readers
to tell me what you think; any and all questions, suggestions, and comments
can be sent to my email at skinnybro69@gmail.com, and I'll try to answer
back as soon as I can.

Chapter 2

I could not for the life of me determine why Mr. Thistlewhait had ordered
me not to masturbate, but it was driving me up a wall. That night after
class all I wanted to do was play with myself and shoot a quick load, but I
knew that my teacher – no, my Erastes – would somehow know. Just the
thought of him and what we did in the classroom this afternoon was more
than enough to make me spring up, and it took all of my willpower to try
and get my mind off those thoughts.

In the evening, I decided to play some video games to distract myself as
best as I could. I was in the middle of a level when my dad walked in and
sat on the edge of my bed.

"Hey, sport, how was school today?" He asked, watching the screen as I kept
playing.

"It was good. Nothing major happened." Lie.

"Did you learn anything fun in Latin?" My father had asked me this same
question just about every day after my lessons, and honestly I was
surprised he kept asking. All I was ever going to tell him was that I
learned some more words in a dead language. Though I'll bet he'd flip if I
told him what I had really done after school today.

I paused the game and looked at him. My dad, ever the hard taskmaster when
it came to academics, was also one of the most caring individuals I
knew. After my mom died when I was 9, dad and I had been on our own. He
never bothered to remarry or even date – he and my mother were high
school sweethearts and married shortly after graduating from high
school. They were fine for a while until my mother took ill and passed
away. Ever since, my father had been both the breadwinner and the
caregiver, but trying to be a single dad and support a son wasn't always
easy. He threw himself into his work at the office, moving up the corporate
ladder, but simultaneously distancing himself from me. He loved me, I know
he did. But he was seldom around to tell me as much. I often felt lonely
because of it.

He was in his early forties, with salt `n' pepper hair. He looked younger
than he was though, with a square jaw and thin, athletic frame. He was on
the shorter side, like me, but he wasn't skinny – just thin, with a flat
stomach and square shoulders. My father believed in being conservative with
your body, so he seldom walked around without even a shirt off. But I knew
from the times I stole looks at him leaving the bathroom that my father's
full frame was dusted with a verdant forest of gray body hair. I only just
started getting a couple chest hairs myself, and I hoped one day I could
look just like him.

"Nothing exciting happened," I answered him, "just Mr. Thistlewhait and me
reading Latin. We learned the pluperfect tense today." I tried to downplay
the energy in my voice.

My father smiled kindly. "Oh? And what is that exactly?"

He listened to me explain the difference between the pluperfect and
imperfect tenses, and why the perfect tense was so called `perfect.' I had
always found linguistics fascinating, and with Latin I really was learning
a lot about English grammar. I loved talking about it, but I could see from
the dark circles under his eyes that my father was tired.

I stopped, realizing from my father's slumped posture that he must have
been exhausted, probably from another long day at the office. I cut my
story short when I saw that his eyes were glazing over, and I returned to
my video game.

Dad could tell what I saw, and he frowned, but had no energy to keep the
conversation going for much longer. He leaned over and put his hand firmly
on my shoulder, and kissed me on the head.

"I'm glad you're having a good time with your studies, sport. That
Mr. Thistlewhait was very generous to give you that opportunity after
school. I'll have to meet him sometime and thank him for looking after
you." He paused, and when I didn't reply, added, "Well, I'm heading to
bed. Night, sport."

"Night, dad."

He got up and left, leaving me alone in my room. I hated seeing my dad like
that – exhausted all the time. He must've gone in over his head with his
duties at the office, again, and was paying for it now. I sighed, wondering
if I my dad even really wanted to spend time with me since mom's death. But
I guess right now it was okay, because I had another man in my life who I
knew wanted to be around me.

Crap – I remembered Mr. Thistlewhait and started to chub up again.

Hardest homework ever.

					* * *

The next day went by agonizingly slowly. I wanted the day to hurry up and
end so I could spend time with Mr. Thistlewhait. I was kinda scared though,
as I wasn't sure if we'd ever get to do the same kinds of things we did
yesterday. I mean, Mr. Thistlewhait seemed to want to do more things with
me, but, I never knew if he'd be like my dad and promise to do something
with me and never deliver. But he told me not to jack off, right? That had
to have some part in this? Right?

I was feeling very anxious by the time the bell rang to signal the start of
my last period class. I walked through the door feeling like there was a
neon sign above my head that I was doing something illicit and it showed
that I was nervous about it. But none of the other students even cared, or
even looked my way. Nobody really cares about a nerdy know-it-all. My
unpopularity was serving me well.

Mr. Thistlewhait jumped right into our lessons, sending me a salutary wink
before explaining about the four principle parts of a verb. I cracked my
book open and pretended to study – it was far too difficult. My mind was
racing. I was jumping from one thought to another too erratically to
actually complete any of the assignments in front of me. Anytime I would
look up, there would be Mr. Thistlewhait at that white board with his
squeaky markers, writing something with enough gusto to make those cheeks
wiggle. It was almost hypnotic, really. I giggled to myself.

He turned back to the class and I studied the features on his face again. I
wanted to touch his full beard. I had never in my life touched a beard. My
father was always clean shaven or at most a little stubbly, but never grew
his facial hairs out at all. Now that I was thinking about it, there was so
much about Mr. Thistlewhait and his body that I wanted to explore. So much
about a man I wanted to learn. My sense of anxiety was replaced by a
short-lived sense of wonder. Maybe I could ask to touch it?

The bell rang and the others packed up their things. I hadn't gotten very
far in my work at all, and now I had almost nothing to show for the last
hour I'd been there. Would Mr. Thistlewhait be angry?

When the last student filed out of the room, Mr. Thistlewhait calmly walked
to the window and looked out at the hallway, bustling with kids. He looked
back at me with a kind smile on his face and asked, "So did you do your
homework?"

"Y-Yes." I said meekly. "I memorized those ten words and the pluperfect
tense, too."

Mr. Thistlewhait chuckled under his breath. He stole a peek again into the
hallway, and then said in an equally pleasant tone, "No, I mean your other
homework."

I hesitated, but replied, "Yes, sir." And then added, "And it was tough,
too!"

Mr. Thistlewhait's eyes gleamed. "I knew it would be. But there's a method
to my madness, I promise." I think Mr. Thistlewhait was waiting until the
hall had cleared out enough so we could start our lessons. In ten minutes'
time there was no noise left outside. Mr. Thistlewhait closed the blinds
and locked the door. He pulled a chair over next to my desk and sat down,
putting a hand on my leg.

And as if on cue, I immediately started growing hard. Mr. Thistlewhait
noticed and thoughtfully watched my cock grow harder and lengthen down my
pant leg, pulling the fabric as it went. I am definitely a grower.

"I see you remember our first Erastes lesson." He teased. I threw him a
nervous smile.

"That's another hard one to remember." I said, feeling shy.

My teacher put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It is. Now Evan, I want
to talk to you briefly before we go any further." His expression turned
more austere, and my face fell. "I really enjoyed what we did yesterday,
and I want to keep doing things with you – I want to teach you more."

"I want you to teach me more," I added immediately, feeling like this was
going to be bad.

"I would be happy to continue, but I want you to understand something. I
could get into serious trouble for this. People don't think like we do,
they don't think like the Romans or the Greeks. I want to be your Erastes
– a lot," he chuckled a little to himself, then, "but I've never been an
Erastes to anyone before."

"I've never been an Eromenos." I said almost pleadingly.

"Which is why we need to be discrete about this. I want to continue to
teach you Latin, and to continue to be your mentor, but we can't tell
anyone else about this. Do you understand?"

"Of course I do. I would never tell, Mr. Thistlewhait." And I meant
it. What I did with him was my business anyway. I'm not a braggart and I
don't have any other friends that would understand anyway. And I wouldn't
want them to. This was just between Mr. Thistlewhait and me. "I... I want
you to be proud of me."

He stroked his beard and then nodded. "I am proud of you, Evan. I care
about you very much" And without any warning he wrapped his hand around me
and drew me into a kiss.

My heart just about burst from my chest, my boner was so hard I thought
it'd split a seam. His lips were pressed to mine – mine! I closed my
eyes and enjoyed the very sensation of it, felt his lips move and work
deftly, almost pulling at my own. His beard hairs were thick and rough, and
they smelled fresh like he had washed them with a special conditioner. I
reached up with both hands to cup his face, very lightly dusting my fingers
over the hairs and feeling the full thickness of them.

I could feel Mr. Thistlewhait smiling through his kiss, but before he
pulled away he planted a tiny peck at the very end. Very tender, very
gentle. I felt both aroused and loved.

"You didn't do much of the in-class assignment, did you?" he asked
playfully.

"I was distracted." I gasped breathily. My face felt like it was painted a
healthy red from the heat of a strong blush.

"That's okay. Today we'll skip the Latin lesson. But we must do it
tomorrow. I don't want you falling behind on your studies."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, I'm sure you were wondering why I told you not to masturbate, right
Evan?"

I feigned being angry and playfully slapped Mr. Thistlewhait on the upper
arm. His biceps were deceptively strong, and it almost felt like I was
slapping a sandbag. "Yeah! Why are you so mean?"

Mr. Thistlewhait took off his glasses and put them on the table. "Because
I'm your teacher!" I shot him a look of mocking disbelief. "Alright! Okay,
there is a reason.You see, the Greeks were very serious about their
athletics, and very superstitious. Just like a lot of athletes nowadays,
ancient athletes would abstain from sex or masturbation to withhold their
semen. A man's seed was, in a way, the source of a man's masculinity. And
to waste it would be sinful."

"Oh, no, Mr. Thistlewhait. You're not going to make me join an athletic
club, are you? I get beat up in gym class enough as it is!"

Mr. Thistlewhait shook his head and kissed me on the cheek. "No, Evan. What
I mean is, I don't want you masturbating because I don't want you to waste
your seed. A man's seed is his strength, and so if you are ever going to
"spill your seed", so-to-speak, it must be consumed. Either orally or
anally."

"Anally?" I asked.

"Oh yeah." He said with a smirk. "But first, since you were a good boy and
completed your homework, I want to reward you. Here, stand up."
Mr. Thistlewhait offered me his large hand and I took it. With very little
effort he lifted m from my seat at the desk. He led me to his desk at the
front of the room and he cleared away the stationary and office
supplies. "Lie down. Today's lesson is in control."

"Control? Controlling what?" I asked. I sat at the edge and lay my back and
head down flat against the tabletop, letting my legs dangle off the
side. Mr. Thistlewhait immediately reached for my jeans. He undid the
button and let down the fly, and with a not-so-gentle tug he pulled my
jeans down from my waist taking my boxers down with them.

My boner sprung up into the cold air of the classroom, free of the confines
of my pants. Like a lion on its kill, Mr. Thistlewhait attacked my
throbbing cock with his mouth and enveloped it in the hot embrace of his
lips. I gasped. I had never felt another man's mouth on my dick before and
the sensation was incredible. With one hand he grasped the base of my cock
and lowered his mouth further and further onto it inch by tantalizing
inch. I looked down over my tiny chest, heaving in joy, and watched my
Latin teacher stuff more and more of myself into his wet and welcoming
mouth. His other hand wrapped around my boy balls and kneaded them
gently. When his pouty lips reached the very base of my cock, his thick
beard tickled my nut sack. Mr. Thistlewhait locked eyes with me over his
glasses, in a look I knew meant he wanted to know how it all felt.

If this was an exercise in control, I wasn't going to last long if he kept
going like this. He withdrew most of my shaft from his mouth – my dick
taking on a healthy coat of saliva - but then he plunged back down onto me
in a quickness that stole my breath. Mr. Thistlewhait watched the look of
exasperation play out on my face, and smiled with a mouthful of
cock. Either I was a super virgin or he was a pro – that was for goddamn
sure – because every little motion of his mouth was ecstasy on my
cock. He'd remove just enough of me from his mouth to worry me that he was
going to stop, but he'd never actually take my head out of his
mouth. Mr. Thistlewhait poked his tongue around, feeling around my
sensitive head and sucking the tiny bits of precum that had to be flowing
by now, but then he'd ride my cock back down to the base, get a faceful of
pubes, and take in a deep breath of my boy scent. All the while his hand on
my nuts played with them like a juggler with fushigi balls, massaging the
globes around as if trying to stimulate them to make as much cum as
possible.

But I was new to controlling myself. I only ever really jacked off for the
fun of blowing a load and had very little self-control, if any. His mouth
was bringing me to climax way too fast. "M- Mr. Thistlewhait! I... I need
to cum!" I said, feeling the juices pool in the pit of my nuts. But just as
suddenly as he dove in, he stopped again. He removed himself from my dick
and stood up, using a hand to wipe some of the spit from his
lips. "Wha...?" was all I could muster. My orgasm felt like it had hit a
brick wall and had stopped short just before taking off. My nuts drew up in
agony over the halted orgasm, and my gut clenched. But I needed release! I
instinctively moved my hand to my cock to finish the deed, but
Mr. Thistlewhait firmly seized me by the wrist and removed me from myself.

He shook his head lovingly. "No, no, boy, that's my load." I shot him a
pained look but he ignored it. He took a couple steps back and stood
against the far wall. Slowly, he eased himself onto the floor and sat down,
then beckoned me to come over. I was confused, so confused. Did he want me
to cum? Did he not want me to cum? All I knew was that I wanted to cum but
I felt like he would never let me. I felt indignant, almost angry with my
Erastes.

Mr. Thistlewhait beckoned me over again and I sighed in consent. I moved to
pull my pants back up but Mr. Thistlewhait bid me not to. "Just take the
pants all the way off, Evan." He said this while he himself undid his belt
and started shimmying out of his pants. I was entranced to see this large
bear of a man so gracefully pull himself out of such tight pants. He hooked
his thumbs into his waistbands and lifted his cheeks off the floor, and in
one motion slid his pants into a bunched mess around his shoes. His bare
ass was rubbing the carpet, and though much of him was obscured by his
dress shirt, his seven inch rod stood up in its full glory. His inner
thighs and balls were much hairier than I had anticipated, looking like a
full forest was growing between his meaty thighs. Clearly this man never
trimmed. His legs were covered in curly hairs, from the tops of his legs
all the way to the bottoms. If my boner wasn't hard before it sure was now.

I sat up on the desk and made the tiny jump down, stepping out of my pants
at the bottom. Then I made my way over to my awaiting teacher on the floor.

"Lay on top of me. I know a way to teach you well."

I didn't question him. I leaned myself gently onto his large frame trying
not to hurt him. I think Mr. Thistlewhait thought it was funny that I was
being so cautious due to my size, and so with a little impatience he pulled
me up on top of him. I tried to move around in one way but Mr. Thistlewhait
intuited that I was positioning myself wrong, so he helped change it up. He
swung me around so my face was inches away from his pulsing cock, which had
already begun to drip a steady stream of precum. I was entranced by it and
knew instinctively what I must do next. But Mr. Thistlewhait wasn't
idle. Down below, he lined me up just right to help me along, too. My body
was stretched out over this large man, the warmth of his large belly making
me sweat. Somehow I was tall enough for him to reach my cock and in a
second I felt it be seized by his strong hand, guided over his scratchy
beard, and back into his wet mouth.

I moaned again. My knees were straddling both sides of my teacher's body as
best as I could. The sloppy heat of his mouth enveloped my cock and
receded, enveloped it and receded, a fantastic ebb and flow I wish I could
see from where I was laying. But all I saw was his thick cock. I struggled
a little in the throes of this pleasure on my own boy cock. I couldn't make
my body work while it was being bombarded by such sensations. But I made it
move. I wanted to please my teacher like he was pleasing me. I wanted to
eat his load again. I wanted to make him proud.

I stuffed his head into my mouth and suckled again like a lollipop and I
massaged his rubbery foreskin up and down the full length of his
shaft. Back on my own meat Mr. Thistlewhait moaned his delight, sending
vibrations up through my cock and into my testicles.

I didn't get very far in my pleasuring before that delayed orgasm erupted
back to life. I pulled off of Mr. Thistlewhait's cock, a thick glob of
saliva stringing from my mouth to his pole like a
clothesline. "Mr. Thistlewhait! I'm going to cum! Please!" He obliged
me. His tongue danced around my head like a writhing snake, and he pumped
more furiously with his mouth than before.  My body tensed up. I couldn't
breathe. I felt a strange tingling begin in the pit of my stomach and work
its way through to my cock, where suddenly, I exploded with cum. I felt
like I was peeing directly into my teacher's mouth, but he paid no mind,
and worked my cock rapaciously for every drop. I could hear by his gulping
sounds that Mr. Thistlewhait was practicing his cum- devouring philosophy,
too. And it felt fucking amazing.

With my head as sensitive as it was, his sucking was turning into
agony. But I loved it and I loved the attention. I wanted to be connected
to my Erastes like this – my cock in his face – for as long as I
could.

Mr. Thistlewhait pulled my boner from his mouth and let out a small gasp
for air. "Jesus, kid, you taste good." He growled. He petted my back to
urge me to continue sucking him, and I did. "So much for control. But now
you be a good boy and take my load, too, and we'll be done for the
day. We're about out of t—"

"Again!" I shouted through a full mouth.

Mr. Thistlewhait was silent for a moment and then asked me to repeat
myself. "You know it's not polite to talk with your mouth full." I could
hear the smile in his voice.

I pulled off of his cock. "I said, again. I want you to suck me again."

"Wait – you have the energy for that? But didn't you just cum?"

"Yes, but I want to cum again." I was still hard. I was feeling so
energetic, so turned on by sucking my teacher, I almost felt enraged. I
felt angry for him telling me not to cum the night before and just now at
the table for stopping mid blow-job. I wanted more out of him. Even through
my fatigue, I wanted him to take more of me.

"No, Evan, I think you've had enough for today—"

"I said again," I insisted. But I didn't give him time to answer. I thrust
my hips down through his steady grasp and inserted my cock back into his
mouth. He was going to suck me again. He had no choice.

I could tell I had caught him off guard. I pistoned my cock in and out to
get the motion going again. I could tell he was hesitant to start sucking
again, but I quickly took his back into my own mouth again to give him an
incentive. Maybe he was thinking over whether he should let me get away
with my insubordination. Maybe he was too stunned. But soon enough I was
sucking his cock with everything I was worth, and he fell back into line
and sucked my dick again with gusto.

I teased my mouth along the length of his cock, kissing its girth gently
before plunging back down onto the throbbing head. I had hold of his shaft
and would not let go – I pumped it furiously with my hands. I felt
around for his balls and, though I wasn't tall enough to lick them, I made
every effort to massage them.

Never taking his working mouth off of my cock, Mr. Thistlewhait hoisted his
dress shirt up his chest, letting his furry belly hang out. I tugged my
shirt up, too, so my own smooth skin was now tickled against his fuzzy
chest. I wanted to turn around and lick him – put my mouth over his
hairy skin and rub my face into his forest. I wanted to suck his nipples
and taste the pepperoni-sized meat, and lick and suck until he'd produce
daddy's milk – if that were even possible. But I kept my focus on his
rock-hard cock and the man juices I wanted to taste, wanted to swallow,
wanted inside me. I lapped at his head and kept beating him off, still with
no formal training on the matter but giving it everything I had. My cock
was still wrapped in the hot and moist clutches of Mr. Thistlewhait's
mouth, and even through my first orgasm just moments prior, I felt an even
greater one looming on the horizon.

In the quiet classroom we sixty-nined, no longer a teacher and his student,
but a man and his boy feverishly hungry for each other. It felt primal,
something even more ancient than the Roman or Greek history he was teaching
me, but something further back in human history. We were two animals
fucking each other's faces, intoxicated by the pleasure of the other's
body. Our touching-tummies were now sticky with sweat, Mr. Thistlewhait's
body hair matted with the wetness of persistent exercise. My back was damp,
too, and even the cold air of the classroom wasn't enough to keep us
cool. I reveled in his manhood. He reveled in my youth. And I felt like
this was the most natural thing in the world.

I sucked and bobbed and stroked as fast as I could, desperate for a cum
load from my favorite teacher. And then it happened – in one quick jerk
off from my meat, Mr. Thistlewhait ordered in his low-baritone voice, "Get
ready, boy!" I threw myself further onto his meat, as far down as I could
without gagging, and greeted his load with my thrashing tongue. One spurt,
two spurts, three spurts – he poured into me, his load seemed even
bigger than it was yesterday. I gulped it down greedily only to have it
replaced with even more seed.

And to add to the chaos, I came, too. I came so hard I almost saw spots,
temporarily forgetting how to suck a dick and letting some of
Mr. Thistlewhait's seed leak from my mouth drunkenly like I were some
gooned-out moron. I moaned through my mouthful of semen as I injected
another small load into my teacher's face. He lapped it up with just as
much hunger as before, never letting a drop spill from his mouth. His beard
entangled with my pubes and his moustache scratched my nuts, sending jolts
of pleasure through my body as I unloaded again into my teacher. I was in
absolute agony, and his mouth and beard were over-stimulating me. I half
panted, half moaned in my writhing mess of pleasure and torture, my body
becoming too tired and confused to know the difference.

But soon he was spent, and so was I. My cock began to shrink back down to
its normal size, even with the constant attention of Mr. Thistlewhait's
kisses, and I was so far gone I couldn't form a complete thought. I just
kissed and teased his dick with love and nuzzled it like a baby kitten. We
were hot and sweaty and spent.

"Two loads, huh? You surprise me." Mr. Thistlewhait said breathlessly.

It took me a moment to regain enough energy to answer him. "Yeah, well, you
shouldn't have told me not to masturbate." I had enough energy left to
chide him.

"That's too bad. I want you to continue withholding your loads for
me. Erastes' orders."

I didn't have the strength to argue. Instead I laughed at my own misfortune
and felt the steady breathing of the large man below me, his belly heaving
and flowing in his chest, and his hot breath on my taint. Mr. Thistlewhait
had just enough strength to grab one of my legs and swing me over, spin me
around, so I was facing him now. I cuddled into his meaty breast and he
wrapped his gorilla-sized arms around me in a tight embrace.

"I want more time." I said almost whining. "I want more time with you,
Mr. Thistlewhait. These hour sessions after class aren't enough."

Mr. Thistlewhait swallowed audibly and kissed me on the forehead. "You're
right." He thought for a moment, the two of us tangled in a sweaty embrace,
and then he said, "I'll email your dad and see what we can do about that."

"My dad?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"I have an idea, but I have to see how viable it is. Now, tomorrow, we
really do have to continue with your studies. I have to make sure you're
actually learning something here or people will start wondering what the
hell we've been up to."

I didn't want to go back to studying tomorrow, but he was right. A deal was
a deal. I pouted.

"But in the meantime, practice control and don't masturbate. Let me work on
this idea of mine and we'll see what we can do about your, uh, Eromenos
lessons. Okay? I'll teach you more about controlling your orgasm, too." He
said supportively, but I had other plans in mind regarding control.

I let out a long sigh. I should have been content just to have a man like
this who was willing to teach me. I should have been thankful to have a
friend in Mr. Thistlewhait. But in that moment I just wanted to pout that I
didn't get to do anything more with him tomorrow and that I had to keep
from masturbating. But I smiled anyway. If my Erastes had something in
mind, then I'm sure he'd deliver. He was by far my favorite teacher ever. I
was looking forward to learning more.

					* * *

And that's Chapter 2. Thank you everyone for your support in this story; I
plan to keep on writing as long as I know you guys are reading, so let me
know if you like the story. Also, I love to hear feedback and ideas to know
what you guys are thinking, so please send any questions, comments, or
suggestions (and any "inspirational pictures") to
skinnybro69@gmail.com. I'll be happy to discuss whatever you'd like.

Thanks again, and stay tuned for Chapter 3 :D