Date: Tue, 20 Jan 2015 13:38:37 +0000 From: Bruce Demosthenes Subject: Training a teacher (who happened to be my mom?s BF) 1 Nifty survives on donations. Send your $1 per rope contribution to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ********* Being a 15 year only single child of divorced parents, living with my mom, sucked. We went from living in a nice house in a city neighbourhood where I had tons of friends to living in a one-bedroom apartment in a small town where I knew no one. I guess I should tell you a bit about myself first. I am 15, as I said, with brown hair and eyes, smooth body and had already grown in the most important dimension to six and a quarter inches. Like most teenage boys I measured it regularly and precision was everything so that quarter inch mattered, even though at over 6 inches in my age group I was already bigger than any kid in my class. I was horny constantly. I jacked off every second my mother was not at home. In a one-bedroom apartment you need to take advantage of every second you are alone for relief. Even in our cramped living situation I was able to wank at least three times a day which, trust me, was barely enough. Back to what I look like. I am 5'10", 155lbs, smooth, except for my pubes and a small treasure train that ran from my navel to my pubes. I love sports, though I tend to like sports that are more solitary, like running and diving. And while I had no illusions about becoming an Olympic athlete, I was a pretty good diver so when we moved to this small shitty town I quickly became the best diver in the high school. Of course that didn't make me any new friends, especially on the diving team. So my life was pretty boring. I went to school, and after school I either went to the pool or the track to practice, depending on the schedule. Mom worked as a teacher outside of town so she was always home late and off early in the morning so I looked after myself for meals. On weekends I would try to kick around the town by myself and hate my life. After about six months into this miserable existence of small town high school my mother started dating another teacher. He was a young teacher, just out of college, who was substituting at the elementary school in town. He was nice enough, though I still hadn't come to terms with my parents being separated so where I probably should have been happy for her (and appreciative that she was supporting me on her own) I was not pleasant to him or her. So when he came over for dinner on the weekends I would barely talk. I would sit through the meal and when it was over I would retreat to the bedroom (I got to sleep in the bedroom and mom slept on the couch) and put on my headset and listen to music or play computer games. Of course probably what pissed me off the most was with him over visiting there was no privacy to jack off. All I could think of at 15 was jacking off. And I had already realized I was gay because all I thought of when I jacked off was guys. Usually guys from the pool, as seeing guys in the speedos - hell being in my speedos myself - was a turn-on. It left so little to the imagination. Or looking at boys and men on the internet, including gay porn. While I initially spent very little time with my mother and her new BF, try as I did to dislike this person who was trying to move in on my mom, there was something physically appealing about him that I guess was seeping into my subconscious. He was in his late twenties or early thirties, lean and kinda geeky with blond hair and glasses. His shyness around me began to disarm the attitude I was trying to hit him with and, over time, I found myself not bolting after dinner, and actually staying and engaging in conversation. He never stayed over but then again there was no place for him and my mother to sleep together being a one bedroom apartment and me in the bedroom. Then again my mother never slept away at night and she could have stayed at his place, so I guess they were not sleeping together out of respect for me and my feelings, my parents having only recently separated. I was, as you will see, not nearly as respectful of her feelings. When the diving season got into inter-school competitions, my mother and her BF started coming to my matches. And that changed dramatically how I began to look at this nerdy elementary school teacher. Like I said, when I am in speedos, my already hyper-sexuality is in over-drive. While I thought about sex a few times every minute during class or when walking around town by myself, when I was at the pool in my speedos sex was the only thing on my mind. It may seem strange but you don't actually think about diving when you are diving, as it has become a muscle reflex though repetition. So you can devote more of your brain to sex. And when you are only in a pair of speedos, so everyone can see your body and the details of your cock and balls, and all eyes are on you, who wouldn't think of sex. Of course when I am not on the diving platform, but walking around the pool in my speedos, I have nothing else to do but think about sex (that and trying to remind myself not to think too much about sex because getting a boner in front of other divers and, during a competition, the crowd, would not be cool). During these competitions I began to notice Paul (that is my mom's BF's name) was watching me not just when I was on the platform but when I was waiting my turn or walking around the pool. I knew that look in his eyes because I had that look for boys and men. It wasn't fondness, curiosity or passing interest, it was unbridled lust as one surreptitiously checks out another person's body and package. I am going to sound narcissistic, and maybe I am, but once I caught him checking me out I began to notice him not as a guy who was trying to date my mother but as a man. And he was much sexier than I had noticed before. The nerdy shy teacher had sexuality to him. His clothes weren't the most revealing, but he was slim and fairly tall so probably no clothes would be. Every time I would glance at the stands his eyes would be on me and he would quickly look away. My mother spent more time watching the other competitors than he did. And, of course, when my eyes caught hers in the stand she wouldn't look away, she would smile proudly and nod to give me encouragement. Yea, I knew he wanted me. And he got to see what he wanted in a pair of blue speedos at each diving match so he knew what he would get if I let him. He could see my naked chest and legs; he knew my already defining abs. And he could check out my cock and balls nestled in the pouch of those speedos. Once I realized he wanted me my thoughts went from random thoughts of sex with men to thoughts of him specifically and how I might bed him. Not only would I stay to talk to him and my mom after dinner now, I would, when they were busy talking to each other, scope out his body. He had a cute little turned up nose that held up those glasses, just barely. They would slide down his nose ever so slightly and he would need to push them back up with an index finger which just accentuated his shyness. Like I said, his clothes weren't the most revealing since he was slim, but he seemed to have a nice tall lean frame and his dress trousers (he was always in slacks and a dress shirt when he came over and sometimes a tie) suggested he had a nice firm ass and maybe something noteworthy running down the inseam of his pants. I had never had sex with a guy but I knew I wanted to and I had watched enough porn to know what guys did together. I began to jack off whenever I was alone in the apartment imagining doing stuff I had seen in porn to him. When a professional development conference came up I knew I had an opportunity and seized. My mother wasn't going to go because she was worried about leaving me alone. While in other circumstances I would have pointed out I was 15 and I had not had a babysitter since I was 11, I took the opportunity to suggest I stay with Paul. As Paul only lived in a bachelor apartment it was agreed he would stay at my place and, he agreed - perhaps too eagerly - to sleep on the couch to keep me company while my mom was away. During the week I began to formulate a plan on how to seduce him, which I suspected was not going to be easy as dating my mom, let alone being an elementary school teacher where any hint of being gay could cost one their job, he was undoubtedly in denial of his attraction to me. But I had seen his eyes and I knew he wanted me even if he didn't consciously realize it yet. The Friday night mom left began innocently enough with Paul and me going shopping for stuff to make a pizza and cooking and eating it while we watched TV. I am not sure who checked the other out secretly more, me or him. While we never 'caught' each other looking, I could sense when his eyes were on me and my eyes were on him a lot (whenever I knew he was looking elsewhere) so maybe he suspected I was into him too. It didn't matter if he did, for my plan to work all he needed to be was into me. When it came time for bed, I helped him makeup the couch and then went into the bedroom, stripped down to my red CK briefs (which I had chosen to wear intentionally that day) and waited. I needed to be sure he was undressed before I came out because I wanted him defenseless. He couldn't hide behind clothes if he was going to realize his lust for me. Once I was confident he was undressed I came back out feigning a limp. "What is wrong," Paul asked when he heard the bedroom door open. "I seem to have a cramp in my leg," I lied. A plausible lie being a runner and diver, but a lie that was key to my plan. Paul was under the covers but quickly got out from under and came to assist me in walking to the couch. Not surprisingly he was wearing baggy pale blue boxers. What else would such a cute nerd choose for underwear? I lay down on the couch and gestured to my right thigh. "This happens occasionally, but usually only when I forget to stretch before a run," I said truthfully. I had long ago learned that the best lies have their basis in truth. "What should I do," asked Paul, the sound of genuine concern in his voice. "The only thing is to massage it out, get the muscles to relax," I said, again being truthful had I really had a leg cramp. Paul knelt beside the couch and immediately went to work massaging my thigh. Had there not been the look of worry on his face, I would have concluded the speed with which he put his hands on me had been sexual, but this was a man who was clearly concerned about the son of his girlfriend. For my plan to work I had to bring out the lustful side of him. Then again, me, a 15-year old young diver/runner already showing muscle definition wearing only a pair of red Calvins, lying in front of him, should be enough to do that for any man, gay or straight. Right from the start I began to make noises, first of discomfort over my feigned injury and how it must feel when he applied pressure as he tried to counter the pain, and then of contentment as the imaginary injury subsided through the work of his kind gently fingers and then little noises of pleasure. At this point Paul's fingers began to lighten and slow as he contemplated stopping, figuring his job was done, but I told him to keep going and he did. With my pain (which never existed) clearly passed, Paul's mind was inevitably going from worry to awareness as he looked at my firm body lying in front of him, his hands on my thigh so near my underwear clad crotch. The shy little teacher would not look at my face, which was as I expected. Had he looked he would have seen a Cheshire grin as I knew I had him and I, unlike him, knew what was going to unfold next. In trying not to make eye contact while massaging my thigh, his eyes had nowhere to go but to look at my body and crotch. I watched as they darted up and down my chest and abs and then to my legs and then stole glances as my package under my briefs so close to his hands. At this point he was no longer in control, and I didn't need to be because nature would take its course. What warm blooded man who had eyes for a boy could fight the urge to take things further with a 15-yo underwear clad boy literally at his fingertips. With each movement of his hands on my thighs he now began to move closer to my crotch and before long he was brushing against my balls as he worked from the outside to my inner thighs. I sighed and moaned ever so gently, not wanting to seem too sexual as he had to think he was steeling these touches while helping me recover from my painful cramp. I gently parted my legs as his hands moved up and down my leg, giving him more access and his hands complied, working in between my thighs and making more and more direct contact with my underwear clad balls and taint, before moving back down my leg. In his mind he was still giving me a leg massage (or at least in his mind he had convinced himself "I thought" he was giving me a leg massage). The pretext of him massaging my leg for a cramp had long since evaporated. He had been at it for almost an hour now and my sounds of pain and distress had long since ceased and were now purrs of pleasure. But I knew he needed, for his own peace of mind, to believe he was doing good, because the thought of molesting the son of his girlfriend (or any 15-yo boy), would likely be too much for his brain under normal circumstances. And while I didn't want to shatter his illusion and his sanity, for this to go where I wanted it to - where I need it to - where I had planned on taking it, I needed him to be fully engaged. The great thing about boxers is that shy people put them on thinking they will not reveal any detail about their genitals. This is true when they are soft (sort of, you can see their cocks often swing in their pants unconfined if they have nice long ones like Paul seemed to) but when a guy has a hard on there is no hiding the fact if they are wearing boxers. So it was only a matter of time, even if he was deluding himself that he was massaging my thigh for my benefit and that his brushing against my balls and briefs was going unnoticed by me, that his cock became hard as a rock. Reaching down I wrapped my hand around his cock as it stuck straight out tenting his boxers. "What are you doing," Paul exclaimed, moving to pull away. I held firm. "Nothing more than you were," I responded, returning the focus to his having had his hands on my thighs brushing against my balls. "But I? you? I was just," Paul stammered before resigning himself to the fact that yes, he had been sexually touching me, the 15-yo son of his girlfriend. In a much quieter voice Paul said "we can't." In a very firm voice, as firm as my hand was wrapped around his hard cock, I said: "we can and we will." I gave Paul a minute to register and accept this fact, as I held his cock (gently squeezing it to increase his sexual tension). All the while he knelt there next to the couch looking shyly up and down my body. I knew he wanted me and, frankly, who could resist. I was a fine looking specimen and I knew I looked good in speedos, and in briefs, especially the red Calvins I had put on that morning for just this situation. Eventually Paul nodded in surrender. So there could be no confusion I said "no more playing touch, I am going to fuck you, understood?" Paul just nodded again. I reached down and took the waistband of his boxers and pulled them over his cock and down his thighs. I needed him naked quickly before he changed his mind, and I needed his attention back on me. "Take my underwear off," I instructed. Paul instinctually took his own boxers down the rest of his thighs and off his legs so he was naked, without my telling him too, and then reached for my briefs. But before he took them off he gently began to touch me through my underwear. That shouldn't have surprised me. He had spent so much time watching me in speedos, looking at my cock and balls through the thin nylon material, he wanted to see how I felt through my cotton briefs. I had, to my own surprise, been able to keep my cock from getting to full mast throughout his massage, but at his touch my cock began to harden in my briefs and soon was at its full six and a quarter inches. His hands roamed over my cock and balls and stomach and legs as he lowered his mouth and began to mouth my cock through the soft cotton of my Calvins. There was no turning back now. He had surrendered to his lust. I didn't know at the time if he had done anything with guys (I learned later he had sucked his best friend off in high school a few times but that was it). In this moment he was a willing sexual participant in what was unfolding. I let him keep mouthing and licking me through my underwear as his hands explored my body. While I had told him to remove my briefs I needed him completely smitten with me for my longer-term plans to work. I had as my immediate goal fucking his ass but I equally wanted this cute nerdy teacher to service my cock regularly and give me relief in this godforsaken small town. As I let him play with my body with his hands and mouth, my hand moved from his cock, which was nice enough at about seven inches, thin like him, and uncut (hadn't seen many uncut cocks and I would definitely get back to that in the future), to play with his ass. As I had surmised checking him out through his slacks, his ass was nice and firm. It was not boney, despite his lean build, but had a small roundness to it. It occurred to me that he would look good in a pair of tight jeans and made a mental note to work on his clothes now that he was mine. He was sexy and I wanted to see him as such all the time from now on. My hand worked his ass cheeks for a while before my fingers made their way to his hole. He clenched his cheeks at first, but with his mouth on my cock and balls he couldn't help but relax as he came to terms with what I had said was going to happen and gave himself over to me. I wet a finger and began to probe his hole and while it didn't go in easily (he clearly was a virgin, as I would later confirm) it did get all the way. Once I had a finger in his hole the pace quickly changed. Paul was now not only on board with what was happening, he was desperate for it to unfold. My briefs were quickly down my hips and off me, and naked still lying on the couch my cock was in his mouth getting wet. I took my finger out and wet two (his ass tasted surprisingly good on my finger) and then pushed them in as he took my entire cock down his throat. This man was eager! Getting off the couch I told him to bend over the end of the couch and I got in behind him and pressed the head of my cock against his hole. With only his spit on my cock it was tough going in, but he made no noises of protest and before long I was all the way in his ass. It felt as amazing as I thought it would - better in fact than anything I had ever dreamed off. I thought about just staying like that with my cock in his ass. We certainly looked hot in that position. This skinny blond teacher bent over the arm of the couch with a 15-yo athlete firmly embedded in his tight ass. But we are all animals and my instincts had their own plans. I just gave into my desires and before long I was pounding away at his ass. The sound of the skin of my thighs and hips slapping against his ass filled the small apartment. My awareness of my surroundings slipped away as I just gave in to the moment. My cock sliding in and out of that ass which was so tight and warm and wet. For a few minutes I lost myself. All I could think of was my cock and how it felt to be in the velvety passage. As I could feel the orgasm in my build my focus on my surroundings returned and I became aware once more of not only who I was fucking and where, but of the fact that bent over in front of me my mother's boyfriend was now sniffing my red briefs which I had been wearing all day. This man had it bad for me and I was about to give him my most personal possession, my cum up his ass. My hands tightened around his hips and my speed increased. My balls pulled tight against my body and I could feel it build. "Oh god," I exclaimed as I pounded again and again. "I'm cumming," I shouted as I pushed in as hard and as deep as it would go. Staying like that, buried deep in his ass, I could feel my cock expand as it began to shoot rope after rope of what I knew to be thick white cum into his bowls. 1-2-3-4?. I must have shot 9 ropes of cum deep inside of him in that position firmly embedded in his ass. I stayed like that long after I had stopped cumming. In fact, I would have liked to stay like that forever, his ass felt so good wrapped around my cock, but I was standing and having just fucked him hard my legs were actually starting to cramp. So I pulled out. My cock was a lot cleaner than I thought it would be, not that I had given it any thought but then neither had he so he couldn't have been prepared for my fucking him. I guess it was just this nerdy shy teacher kept himself very clean on the inside not just on the out. I walked to the bathroom and took a facecloth and washed my dick clean and returned to the living room where I found him still bent over the arm of the couch sniffing my briefs. I guess he didn't want the moment to end. I knew I would own him when I saw him looking at me in my speedos from the stands, and I knew I owned him when he got hard thinking he was stealing touches of my underwear clad balls as he massaged my thigh to 'ease my pain' but now he was letting me know he was my pet. I set out on this mission just to get myself off this weekend and, perhaps, if things went well, have someone to get myself off regularly so as to ease the boredom of small town existence. I had no plans to be a dom, though I knew from the internet what that was, or to make him a sub. I guess with hindsight I should have known he would end up someone's sub, him being that shy and meek. But in that position, bent over, his hole having just been ravaged by my cock, sniffing on my briefs, it was clear that not only was he now a sub he was mine. Once I realized that I also realized I was happy with our new arrangement. It would make things easier going on from here. There would be no complications when my mother got back. Taking him by the hand, I led him into the bedroom, turning off the lights on the way. Crawling in bed I fell asleep with his arms wrapped around me, his hard cock pressing into my back.