THE HUNTING SEASON

by Pink Panther

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CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

April 1960

For Alex, the start of the summer term heralded a number of changes. First of all, 3-Blue were now up to speed, and almost all of them were performing well. Accordingly, he had discontinued the extra classes on Tuesday and Thursday lunchtimes, a decision that had been well received by almost everyone in the group. He'd wondered about the special classes for the express group too, but as Calladine and Northam were keen to carry on, and the other three had raised no objection, he'd decided that those classes would continue.

As the football season had ended, Fourth Year games classes were quite different. He was required to supervise a group doing athletics, taking a different group of boys each week. During his schooldays, he'd performed competently at a number of track and field events, and so it wouldn't be a problem. However, unlike the two preceding terms, he had no coaching responsibilities, which meant that he'd be free after school on Thursdays.

Having more time would allow him to do other things, such as working one-to-one with Calladine to find out how far the lad could go, and giving individual help to boys who were struggling. But his main project for the term was to establish an elite maths group in 1-Green.

Among the selected few would be Newton. Teaching the lad with only four others would enable him to get closer than he could while dealing with a class of thirty-two. It wasn't ideal, and he'd have to be very careful how he went about it, but that was part of the thrill. And the potential prize was the ultimate. Were he to succeed, it would be his finest and most satisfying conquest.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It wasn't till term began that Michael realised the extent of the difficulties into which he'd got himself. He could hardly wait to see Chris again, getting together after school on Tuesdays and Fridays just as they had before. In addition, he'd see Mr Faulkner on Wednesdays and Saturdays, and his Uncle Jack on Sundays.

But that was not all. Jez was keen to continue what they'd started. Even if Michael had wanted to dump him, he'd have been wary of actually doing it. Jez seemed nice enough, but he lived on a tough council estate and clearly knew how to look after himself. He wasn't someone that Michael wanted to upset.

After school on Mondays and Thursdays were the only times they could meet, which meant that Michael would be having sex every day of the week. He didn't mind that, of course. The problem was, that apart from Mr Faulkner, none of the people he was doing it with knew about the others.

As far as Michael was concerned, telling them simply wasn't an option. His Uncle Jack would go nuts, and he was sure it would destroy his relationship with Chris, which meant more to him than anything. It was a difficult situation, but he couldn't see a way out. The sense that he was juggling at least one ball too many was almost overwhelming. He just had to hope that he didn't drop any of them.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The doorbell rang. Michael hurried down the stairs and opened the front door. Chris, still in his school uniform, was standing on the step.

"Come in," Michael urged, beckoning him inside.

He led the way up to his bedroom.

"I've really missed you," he said gently, placing his hands on Chris's shoulders.

"I've missed you too," Chris responded. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing much," Michael told him. "How was Devon?"

"It was okay. The weather was good most of the time. It was a nice break. I guess you haven't had sex then?"

"I never had a chance!" Michael answered, surprised by how easy lying had become. "What about you?"

"I didn't either," Chris answered, smiling. "Actually, I did meet a boy. His name was Jason. Their caravan was next door but one to ours. He was really nice. We played together quite a bit. But you know how it is. Robbie always wanted to join in. I couldn't very well say no, so I never even found out if Jason was interested."

"That's a shame. How old was he?"

"Thirteen. We had a shower together once. He was gorgeous. I don't know how I stopped myself getting a hard-on."

"Sounds super! Did he have a big cock?"

"Pretty big, about the same as Downing's. But there were other people about. We couldn't have done anything even if we'd wanted to. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," Michael assured him.

"Would you have minded if we had actually done something?"

"No, you were on holiday, just like I was last summer."

"Yeah."

"Come on then," Michael urged. "We don't have long."

Within seconds, they were lying naked on Michael's bed, kissing passionately, their cocks grinding together, their hands roaming everywhere. Michael was in heaven. He'd never felt so close to anyone as he did to Chris. He'd experienced something of that connection with King, but it had been tempered by the infrequency of their meetings and the knowledge that their relationship couldn't last. With Chris, there were no such limitations, and that was truly wonderful.

After several minutes, they switched into a sixty-nine as though it were the most natural thing in the world. There was no discussion; it was totally spontaneous. Once again, Chris cocked his leg up onto Michael's shoulder.

Michael could hardly believe it. He was being given a second chance, and this time he wouldn't mess it up. As he continued to suck, he gently ran his finger around his friend's virgin bum-hole, gently stimulating it. In response, Chris sucked him even harder.

Suddenly, the slender boy's penis pulsed and swelled, jabbing at the roof of his friend's mouth. Michael's orgasm followed in an instant, jets of sticky boy-cum spurting onto Chris's tongue. He swallowed every drop, just as he always did. After a few seconds, they disentangled themselves.

"So how was that?" Michael enquired.

"Super!" Chris breathed, his brown eyes sparkling.

It was exactly what Michael had hoped to hear. Mr Faulkner had been right. As long as he was patient, he'd get to take his friend's cherry. And he would be patient. He'd follow his teacher's advice to the letter. They began to get dressed.

"It's my birthday next week," Chris said quietly. "I'm having a party a week on Saturday. Will you be able to come?"

"Yes, of course!" Michael answered, smiling. "I'd love to!"

"I'm going to invite Hawkes and Lambert too, if that's okay."

"Of course it is," Michael assured him. "It's your party."

A few minutes later, Chris was on his way home. In one way, Michael was delighted. Everything was back on course. But the lies he'd told were gnawing away at him. It had started innocently enough with what had seemed like a harmless cover story. But he was no longer just telling little white lies. What he'd told Chris half an hour earlier had been a total falsehood.

The truth was that while Chris was away he'd had sex every day, and for the previous nine days, he'd been fucked, either by Jez, his Uncle Jack or Mr Faulkner. Deep down, Michael knew he'd betrayed his friend's trust. What made it worse was that Chris was so nice, so innocent. He surely deserved better than that?

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Wednesday afternoon. After saying goodbye to Chris, Michael walked slowly towards the bus stop. After a few yards, he looked behind him. Seeing that Chris had disappeared, he turned around and headed back into school. As expected, he found Mr Faulkner in his classroom.

"Good to see you," Alex said, smiling. "You're wearing new shorts."

"Yes sir," Michael acknowledged, sitting down next to his teacher. "The old ones were getting too tight."

"Hmmm," Alex mused, running his hand over the twelve-year old's thigh. "I rather liked them like that. But I mustn't complain. At least your new ones are reasonably short."

"Yes sir, and the good thing it that Mum says that they'll have to last me at least till Christmas."

"Oh, so you won't be going into long trousers the moment you start second year?"

"No sir. That's what Mum says."

"Well, that's good news anyway." He moved his hand upwards over the smooth grey material. "Hmmm!" he whispered. "You are so horny. You were hard before I even touched you. I think the only place I've seen you without a hard-on was in the swimming pool changing room."

"Yes sir," Michael responded. "Yesterday afternoon, Newton came to my place. It's his birthday next week. He's having a party a week on Saturday. He's asked me to go."

"I take it you two are still getting along well. Did you have a nice time yesterday?"

"Yes sir, very nice."

"Can he cum yet?"

"No sir, but I'm sure he will soon. I want him to cum in my mouth."

"Well, you mustn't miss his birthday party. It might spoil things."

"It means I won't be able to come to your flat."

"What time's the party?"

"I'm not sure, sir. Sometime in the afternoon."

"Well, you can come to my place in the morning. The football season's finished, so I won't be doing anything. It'll just be the two of us, but it'll be better than nothing. Will you be able to do that?"

"Yes sir, I think so."

"That's okay then. I'll put off our trip to see Mr Smith and that ruffian Southcott till the week after."

"What's happening this Saturday, sir?"

"Mr Brown's bringing King to see us, if that's okay?"

"Oh yes, sir! I love seeing them!"

"Excellent! So what d'you want now?"

"You know, sir!"

"Yes," Alex breathed, his fingers brushing over Whitney's penis. "I think I do."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

May 1960

The following Wednesday lunchtime, the five selected members of 1-Green trooped into Mr Faulkner's classroom.

"Thanks for coming," Alex said warmly. "In these sessions, we're going to look at some different aspects of maths from the ones we do in class. We're going to start with the mathematics of chance. It's called Probability Theory."

They set to work. All the examples they looked at involved dice, coins or playing cards. Chris had played both cards and games using dice since he was three years old. He was in his element. He understood instinctively how it worked.

After fifteen minutes, Alex set the boys a short exercise to do. As usual, he went around to see how they were getting on. When he reached Newton's desk, he put his hand on the lad's shoulder, something he hadn't done for months. To his disappointment, there was no perceptible reaction. The saving grace was that the boy's work was excellent.

"You've really got the hang of this," he said approvingly.

Newton glanced up at him. The boy's face said it all. He wasn't saying yes; he wasn't saying no, but he knew exactly what his teacher was doing. After the lad's experiences with Whitney, it was what he might have expected, Alex told himself, judiciously removing his hand from the elfin boy's shoulder.

Newton was sensitive, he reminded himself, not a boy to be rushed into things. But he remained optimistic. The lad hadn't squirmed away from him, even though he clearly knew what was going on. That was encouragement enough. It would require a great deal of gentle persistence, possibly over several weeks, but as long as he was patient, there was every chance that Newton would give him what he wanted.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Thursday, As 3-Blue came into his classroom, Troy Stainham came straight to Mr Faulkner's desk.

"Sir, can you explain the homework to me?" he asked. "I didn't understand it."

It wasn't unexpected. Alex had weak students in almost every class, and Stainham was as weak as any of them.

"I can see you after school," Alex told him. "I've got something else on this lunchtime. I'll be busy tomorrow lunchtime too."

"Oh, after school's fine," Stainham responded, smiling.

"Did you manage any of the homework? Alex enquired.

"Not really sir."

Then don't hand in your exercise book. There's no point if there's nothing for me to look at."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

As he didn't have a class, Alex spent the final period of the day in the staffroom, marking 3-Blue's exercise books. Overall, he was very pleased with the standard they'd reached. When the bell went to signal the end of the school day, he had one book left to mark. He quickly dealt with it before returning to his classroom. When he arrived, Stainham was sitting at one of the front desks, engrossed in a library book.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

"Pride and Prejudice, sir," Stainham said.

"Really?" Alex queried, thinking it an odd choice. "Do you like it?"

"Oh yes sir!" the lad gushed. "I think it's wonderful."

"Okay," Alex said. "Let's get down to work."

Taking the chair from the store room, Alex placed it so that they could both sit at his desk. For the first ten minutes, they hardly seemed to get anywhere, Stainham struggling every step of the way. But quite suddenly, it was as though someone had turned a light on.

"Oh, I get it now sir!" the boy said, smiling.

They worked through a few more questions. The transformation was remarkable. Right out of the blue, the lad had grasped the ideas that just a few minutes earlier had seemed completely beyond him.

"Right!" Alex said. "You can do the rest at home. Tomorrow morning, leave your book on my desk before you go to registration."

"Yes sir! Thank you, sir!"

"I met your mother and father at parents' evening," Alex said. "They told me they were going to get a tutor for you."

"Yes, sir. They asked the lady who taught me for the eleven-plus, but she only does primary. Then they got someone else, but I didn't like him."

"Why was that?"

"He was a bully. He shouted at me when I didn't understand something. He didn't explain things like you do, sir."

There was something in the way he said the final sentence that grabbed Alex's attention. He knew instantly what it was. Stainham, it seemed, had a crush on him. It was an interesting prospect. A little shorter than Whitney, and slim, the boy had an artistic look about him that mirrored that of his somewhat raffish parents. Though not classically pretty, the lad was certainly cute, his husky treble voice indicating that he was not far into puberty.

Alex felt his penis begin to stiffen. It occurred to him that this was the first time that he'd taught Stainham on his own. He'd worked with him a number of times, but because of the situation that 3-Blue had been in, the boy had always been alongside two or three of his classmates.

A few more of these one-to-one sessions might prove very interesting. But was he really going to pursue a boy who was nearly fourteen? He couldn't see much value in that. On the other hand, he didn't want to turn the lad away.

"If you need any more help, you know where I am," he said, placing the ball squarely in Stainham's court.

"Yes sir!" the boy acknowledged, gathering his things.

A moment later, Stainham made his way out. `I wonder if he'll he come back for more?' Alex speculated, thoughts about the potential outcome making his cock even harder.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

May 1960

Somewhat apprehensively, Tim Calladine made his way to Mr Faulkner's classroom for their first one-to-one tutorial. He disliked being singled out, and had no idea what to expect. Seeing his maths teacher already there, he went straight in.

"Come and sit here," Alex said, indicating the chair placed next to his own.

"Sir," Calladine asked, "You're not doing this because my Mum had a go at you, are you?"

"Definitely not," Alex assured him. "I'm doing it because I want you to look beyond the mathematics we do in class. I'd have done it before, but with everything else that was going on, I didn't have time. I want to expand your horizons, to help you make the next step."

They spent the next thirty minutes looking at mathematical structures. Calladine was entranced. His experience of mathematics had been doing calculations and manipulating algebraic symbols. What they were doing now was far more exciting.

For Alex, it was the most stimulating teaching experience he'd had. The boy seemed to grasp difficult, abstract ideas with no problem at all, asking perceptive questions in anticipation of what was to come next. All too soon, the bell sounded for the end of the lunch break.

"Excellent work!" Alex said, smiling. He handed Calladine a slim text book entitled Introduction to Abstract Algebra. "Over the next week, I want you to read the first chapter. There's an exercise at the end. I'd like to see what you can make of it. Just do your best. We'll meet again at the same time next week."

He watched as Calladine left the room. He felt almost as though he was floating on air. In the previous half hour, he'd glimpsed the world of George Brett, who rejoiced in teaching the most able boys. It presented intellectual challenges quite different from anything he'd experienced before. He could hardly wait for their next tutorial.

Had he met Calladine when the lad had been a First Year, he'd have definitely tried to seduce him. As it was, Calladine was fourteen and a half and well on the way to becoming a young man, a very good looking one, no doubt, but a young man none the less. But he wasn't complaining. He was having regular sex with some very cute boys, and there were more interesting prospects he had yet to pursue.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Saturday afternoon. As Whitney had been to his flat earlier in the day, Alex was at something of a loose end. He considered going to the swimming pool, but decided not to. Taylor, the scrawny youth that Whitney had been having sex with, would probably have been there. The lad clearly knew too much. It could have been embarrassing.

He'd be spending the evening with Joanne. They'd arranged to go out for a meal before visiting the cinema to see The League of Gentlemen, which had been released just a couple of weeks earlier. But reluctant to spend a warm, sunny afternoon cooped up in the flat, he headed into town. He parked the car in Church Street, well away from the bus station. Having fucked Whitney just a few hours earlier, he had no wish to put himself in temptation's way.

As he strolled along Market Street, he noticed an imposing figure heading towards him. As the man came closer, Alex recognised him. It was Mr Laws, the father of one of the former 3-Blue rebels. He was accompanied by a well-dressed, statuesque woman whom he judged to be in her late thirties.

"Mr Faulkner, isn't it?" the man greeted. "Good afternoon! This is my wife."

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs Laws, "Alex said warmly.

"I understand that Jonathan has been doing much better since we spoke," Mr Laws said.

"Yes," Alex confirmed. "He's settled down really well. He probably wouldn't admit it, but now that he's begun working properly, he actually seems to be enjoying it."

"He's been far more settled at home too," Mrs Laws said, "Hasn't he Derek?"

"Yes," Mr Laws agreed. "During the Easter holiday I restored his privileges. I suppose it's a difficult age. He's grown up so fast."

"Well, he seems to have come through it," Alex said, smiling. "This term he's been doing well. I believe you mentioned that Jonathan had been at primary school with Lorenzo Parker. Do you know anything about him? I asked his form master, but I was told it wasn't the school's business. I'm just puzzled as to why he's so difficult."

"That's an awkward situation," Mr Laws said, lowering his voice. "The boy's father is a retired army officer. Early on during the war, he was training with his regiment when his wife was killed in a German bombing raid. They had two children who were away at school. Well, at the end of the war, Colonel Parker, as he was by then, was in Italy, met this very pretty girl and married her. His children were appalled. They've never accepted her. Lorenzo was born a year or so later. They had a girl too. From what I understand, things were okay for some years. But then Colonel Parker became ill, breathing problems. He'd always been a heavy smoker. It finally caught up with him. I think Lorenzo would have been about nine at the time. A couple of years later they had to move house because the man could no longer get up the stairs. Well, the lad just went off the rails. Of course, his mother thinks the sun shines out of his backside, which doesn't help. Fortunately, he's not our responsibility."

"Oh, I see," Alex said, completely taken aback. "So how old is Colonel Parker?"

"Must be about sixty," Mr Laws told him.

"Well, thanks for telling me," Alex said. "I must press on; I'm taking my young lady out this evening."

"Well, don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Mr Laws said, grinning.

They went their separate ways. Alex was horrified. With a chronic invalid for a father and a mother who allowed him to do as he liked, Lorenzo Parker's home life was dreadful. It wasn't an excuse for the boy's poor behaviour, but it was certainly an explanation.

Had Alex been aware of the situation from the outset, he'd have handled the boy quite differently. But it was too late for that. As far as Parker was concerned, he was the enemy. Since the start of term, things had resolved themselves into an uneasy stand-off, like the Cold War in miniature. Parker went through the motions of compliance, his resentment lurking just below the surface. In the circumstances, Alex reflected, it was the best he could hope for.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Tuesday morning. As 3-Blue entered Alex's classroom, Stainham came to the teacher's desk.

"I got stuck on last night's homework, sir," he said. "Would you be able to help me again?"

"Did you do any of it this time?" Alex enquired.

"Yes sir. I did some of the questions, but then I got stuck."

It sounded fair enough, Alex considered. They'd started a new topic, and the questions towards the end of the homework exercise were a little trickier than the earlier ones. Stainham was probably not the only boy to have had problems with them. But unlike the others, Stainham had asked for help. And as that was something he'd encouraged, he could hardly refuse.

"Okay," he said. "I can see you after school."

"Yes sir, thank you," Stainham responded.

"I'm on Fourth Year games this afternoon," Alex went on, "so I might be a few minutes late. Come in, sit down and get on with your reading or homework. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay, give me your exercise book at the end of the lesson. I want to see what you've managed to do."

After calling the boys to order, the class began. The atmosphere in the room had improved immeasurably since he'd discontinued the extra lunchtime classes, Alex noted. It seemed that all the boys had disliked them to some extent, as though they were being punished for something that wasn't their fault. But they were through it now, and reaping the rewards of the work that they'd put in. Even Parker was more quiescent than he had been.

And apart from Parker, Stainham and a couple of others, they were doing well. Most important of all, they'd developed good working habits, which had been notable by their absence the previous September. That was an achievement in itself, Alex considered. But the real test would come in the end of year exams. Until then, he needed to keep them at it.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With Fourth Year games over, Alex changed quickly and returned to his classroom. Stainham was reading, as he had been on their previous meeting.

"Still reading Pride and Prejudice?" Alex enquired.

"No sir, I've finished that last week. I'm reading Mansfield Park now."

Jane Austen novels were a strange choice, Alex considered, but as he was beginning to learn, Stainham was no ordinary teenage boy.

"I've marked your homework," he said as they sat down at his desk. "You did the first six questions perfectly, so it's just the others we need to go through."

They began by working through question seven, Alex taking time to explain every step. As they moved onto question eight, it was clear that the light was starting to dawn.

"Okay," Alex said. "There are only two more to do. I'd like you to do them now. Ask if there's anything you're not sure about."

As the boy began his appointed task, Alex moved a little closer so that his thigh was brushing against Stainham's. Had he wanted to, the lad could have moved away quite easily. But he didn't. Within a few minutes, he'd completed the two remaining questions without any problems.

"Well done!" Alex congratulated.

"Oh, I think you're a wonderful teacher, sir," the boy smiled. "When you explain it, it seems so simple. But when I was doing my homework, I couldn't remember some of it. I looked at the examples, but I couldn't make sense of them."

"But now you can?"

"Oh, yes sir; I've got it now."

Alex glanced down and across, his leg and Stainham's still in contact. There was a noticeable bulge in the front of the boy's grey school trousers, not very large but quite unmistakeable. Alex could have moved things on right then, but it was too soon, he decided.

"I understand that you do very well in other subjects," he suggested.

"Yes sir, especially English and History. I do well in everything apart from maths and physics."

"I see. So do you have any interests outside school?"

"Yes sir, I'm in a dance troupe. I love dancing. I want to work in musical theatre when I'm older."

"Oh, right! I thought dance troupes were mainly girls. You're not the only boy, are you?"

"No sir, we've got twelve girls and four boys. My mum's our dance teacher."

"I guess you must be pretty good in the gym then?"

"Yes sir. It's because I'm so flexible. I'm good at high jump too. I'll be representing the school next week. I hate football though, and cricket."

"So what's your favourite musical?" Alex asked.

"Oh, West Side Story," Stainham gushed. "Last year we went to see it in the West End. It was fantastic, especially the dancing. There's never been anything like it. They're making a film of it now. It should be out next year. I can't wait to see it."

"Very good," Alex said, surprised by the boy's passion and enthusiasm. "Tell me, do any of the other boys have a go at you for being, you know, a bit different?"

"Not really sir. Parker came up to me once, calling me names. He said he was going to punch me in the face."

"And?"

"I kneed him in the balls."

"Good for you! I guess that shut him up."

"Yes sir. The other boys laughed at him. That's been the only time. At breaks and lunchtimes, I'm always with Calladine. The other boys don't argue with him."

"That's good. So you and Calladine are friends then?"

"Yes sir. We've been friends since we started school. He doesn't do dance or anything like that, but in class, we're always trying to outdo each other. He's better than me at maths and science, but I beat him in most other things."

"Right, I'd better let you go. Thanks for talking to me. It's been very interesting."

"Sir," Stainham said, looking imploringly at his teacher. "Next month the dance troupe are taking part in a show. It's at the Assembly Rooms. Would you like to come?"

"Oh, I know the Assembly Rooms," Alex responded warmly. "I rehearse there with the choral society. Yes, give me the details. I'd love to come."

"Thanks sir!" Stainham responded, giving Alex an adoring smile.

A minute later, the lad was on his way home. Alex sat back in his chair trying to take in what had just happened. He'd never met a boy dancer before. During his schooldays, he'd been aware of a couple of boys who acted rather like Stainham did, but he'd kept away from them. The boys he'd had sex with had been just that, boys. Colbourne, his final conquest, had excelled at art and music, but even he hadn't been the least bit `theatrical'.

Would Stainham ask for more help with his maths, Alex wondered. It seemed almost certain that he would. And he definitely wanted sex. There was no doubt about it. Did the boy have any previous sexual experience? His gut feeling was that he probably hadn't.

So what was he going to do? He'd already had to exercise considerable self-control. He couldn't keep that up indefinitely. And why should he? Stainham was like low-hanging fruit. If he didn't pluck it, someone else certainly would.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex didn't have long to wait. Just two days later, Stainham approached him again.

"I'm sorry, sir," he apologised. "But I got stuck on the homework again. Could I have some more help, please?"

Alex was not surprised that the boy had had problems. In their last class, they'd moved onto the most difficult topic they'd have to tackle. They had to do it because it would stretch the more able students, and be good grounding for those who would go on to study maths at A-level. For the others, it was irrelevant. He'd told them as much. He expected that as many as half the boys would have experienced problems with the homework exercise. It wasn't really a concern.

On that basis, he could have easily turned the lad away. But after their previous encounter, he realised that the boy's request for help might not be quite what it seemed.

"Okay," he said casually. "Come here after school. We'll deal with it then."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

As he often did on a Thursday, Alex spent the last period marking 3-Blue's books. As he'd expected, Stainham's homework was not bad at all. He'd done the straightforward questions at the start of the exercise, but had become stuck on the more complicated ones. Around half the boys in the class were in the same position. Dodd, Parker and Townley hadn't even managed that.

When he returned to his classroom, Stainham was waiting for him. They settled themselves at the teacher's desk.

"You did the first eight questions perfectly," Alex said, opening the lad's exercise book. "So let's start looking at the questions you couldn't do."

He guided the boy though questions nine and ten, patiently explaining each step.

"Okay, he said. "I want to watch you do the next two. Ask if you're not sure about anything."

As Stainham began work, Alex moved closer, so that once again their thighs were in contact. Far from moving away, the boy opened his legs wider, pressing his leg tight against his teacher's. Alex watched intently as the boy methodically completed the next two questions.

"Well done!" he said approvingly. "So have you got that now?"

"Yes sir," Stainham confirmed. "Once you explained it, it seemed quite easy."

"Maybe," Alex conceded, "but my guess is that maths isn't the only thing you want me to help you with."

Stainham didn't answer, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Alex carefully placed his hand on the boy's thigh. Very gently, he began to stroke it.

"It's okay," he said, almost in a whisper. "I'm not angry with you. I just need to hear you say it."

"Yes sir," Stainham admitted. "I mean it isn't."

"So why me?"

"I like you, sir. I think you're a wonderful teacher. And I think you're . . . you know."

"Well?"

"Sexy."

"I see. But wouldn't you rather be with someone nearer your own age, like your friend Calladine, for instance?"

"I'd love to, but Tim's not like me. He's got a girlfriend. Every day after school he rushes over to the girls' High School so they can go home together."

"Hmmm! I can't see his mother liking that!"

"She doesn't, but his dad says it's alright as long as he keeps his schoolwork up to scratch."

"How very sensible! What about other boys?"

"I don't really know any, not like that. I couldn't just go up to someone, could I?"

"How about the other boys in your dance troupe?"

"Anthony's nice, but I don't like the other two. Max is really stuck-up and Oliver's stupid. We wouldn't get the chance anyway. There are always parents around."

Alex glanced across. Stainham was clearly sporting an erection, just as he had two days earlier.

"Have you ever done anything like this before?" he asked.

"No sir. It's only been the last few months I realised I wanted to."

"And are you sure you want to?"

"Yes sir."

"You know you can't tell anyone, don't you?"

"Yes sir. I won't say a word, I promise."

"Okay then. Put your things away."

Alex got to his feet and headed to the classroom door. The corridor was deserted. He returned to his desk.

"Bring your bag," he said, picking up the spare chair.

He ushered the lad into the store room, closing the door behind them.

"Take your blazer off," he instructed, installing himself on the chair.

Stainham removed his school blazer and turned to face him. Alex reached out, undoing the clip at the top of the boy's trousers and undoing the fly-buttons. They fell to the floor. Alex licked his lips. Stainham's legs, though slim, displayed some delightful muscle tone, clearly the result of the boy's dance training.

"Very nice!" he cooed. "Pull your shirt up."

As Stainham complied, Alex ran his hand up the boy's thigh, silk-smooth, but strong and athletic. He imagined the lad's knee coming up into Parker's balls. He liked that. It wasn't just that the boy had the physical capability. He'd had the chutzpah to actually do it.

He continued upwards, slipping his fingers inside the youngster's underwear before wrapping them round the lad's wonderfully hard penis.

"Hmmm!" he breathed. "You're a very horny boy!"

Withdrawing his hand, he quickly lowered Stainham's underpants. He was entranced. The boy had a beautiful body. His slim, uncut four-inch cock – and firm, round balls – were absolute perfection.

"You're beautiful!" he whispered.

Leaning forwards, he took Stainham's penis into his mouth. He sucked it steadily. Sliding his hands between the boy's legs, his fingers expertly stroked the youngster's perineum. After a short while, he began to hear the lad's breathing. He immediately let him go.

"Was that good?" he asked.

"Yes sir," Stainham acknowledged.

"So what would you like to do now?"

"Can I feel yours?"

"Of course you can!" Alex assured him.

He got to his feet. Stainham quickly undid the teacher's flies, reaching inside to extract the man's dick. His eyes widened.

"It's big, isn't it sir?" he said quietly, running his fingers along the shaft.

"Big enough," Alex agreed.

"Can I suck it?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, just watch your teeth."

Stainham knelt on the floor. Holding Mr Faulkner's penis around the base, he carefully guided it into his mouth, slowly pushing down till his lips were about an inch below the head. After a moment's pause, he began to suck. Alex was ecstatic, running his fingers through the lad's silky brown hair. It didn't matter that Stainham's technique was quite rudimentary. He was on the receiving end of the boy's first ever blow-job, and that made it very special indeed. In less than a minute, he felt himself getting close.

"You'd better stop now," he warned.

Stainham eased himself back, looking up expectantly.

"Can you cum?" Alex asked, helping him to his feet.

"Yes sir."

"Then I'd better see what I can do," Alex whispered, before sitting down again.

He began to suck the boy hungrily, his head twisting this way and that, his fingers slowly moving from stroking the lad's perineum to tickling his virgin bum-hole.

"Oh, sir!" Stainham gasped.

His whole body convulsed. Instinctively, he grabbed Mr Faulkner's head to steady himself. An instant later, Alex got his reward. Stainham's dick jerked against his palate, little jets of boy-juice squirting onto his tongue. After gulping it down, he allowed the lad's super-sensitive prong to slide out of his mouth.

"You can get dressed now," he said, smiling.

"Aren't you going to cum, sir?" Stainham enquired.

"I can't do that in here," Alex said. "I'd make a mess."

"You could cum in my mouth, sir. I don't mind. I'll swallow it, like you did."

"Not today," Alex responded. "You'll understand why later. So did you enjoy today?"

"Oh, yes sir! It was super!"

"Would you like to see me after school tomorrow?"

"Yes please, sir."

"It won't be here though," Alex instructed. "After you're released, wait for about five minutes than come to the pavilion. I'll be in the first changing room on the right."

"Okay sir," Stainham agreed, pulling up his trousers. "I'll be there."