Summer Studies
by Ashley Hardric ©2005

    This is a work of fiction.  That means it is not true.  Didn’t happen.  It’s a figment. No boys were involved or harmed in the writing of this story and no trees were sacrificed.  The author does not condone sex with boys; he just writes fantasies about it.  Further, sex in reality requires caution and protection, but my characters won’t catch any bad bugs unless I write them in.  Be safe and legal in the real world, and enjoy the story only if you are of age and location to legally do so.

    **This story is the property of the author and may not be reproduced elsewhere (i.e. other than Nifty Archive)  without his permission.**


    Sean’s head turned from my crotch to look up at me; a large dribble of cum was leaking down his chin and a look of wide-eyed wonder  was on his face.  “Not bad, kiddo, not bad at all,” I said to him, pulling him up to give him a kiss.  “You’re a quick learner.”
    “All the teachers used to tell me that,” he replied.  “And you’re one hell of a teacher!”
    “Aw shucks,” I said, “It weren’t nuthin’.”  I kissed him again and held his slender chest next to mine.  I could feel the beating of his heart, and when I moved my hand down his smooth belly I could feel his hard-on as well.  I thought back to the ordinary events that had lead us to this extraordinary situation.

    It was the end of the college term; classes were finished, grades were posted, and only optional conferences remained.  Sean had come by to talk and we had chatted casually for over an hour, covering things from his progress in the class to our mutual interest in photography to my recent travels.  I had spent a few years abroad, living in South America.  When I mentioned how that experience had really helped me in my teaching at this school, he was immediately interested.  He was also apparently hard; a definite penile bulge had appeared in his pants, along the junction of thigh and abdomen.
    “You spent five years in Peru?”  he asked excitedly.  “I’ve always wanted to go to South America.  I studied Spanish in high school but I could never afford any of the school trips.  What was it like?”
    “It was a fantastic experience,” I said.  “I wouldn’t trade my years there for anything.  Incredible country, wonderful people, motivated students.  Está buenissimo!”
    “Man, you are are so lucky.  I’ll be lucky if I ever get out of Redneckville, USA, here.”
    “Some necks around here do tend to be a bit on the reddish side, don’t they?” I agreed.  “If you’re interested, I’d be happy to show you some of my pictures.  I brought back more than a few.”
    “Would you?  That would be great!  I’d really like to see them!!”
    “The campus is closing tomorrow; where shall we meet?  We could go to one of the coffee shops in town.   Or you could come out to my house.  Which would you prefer?”
    “Doesn’t matter to me, but the shops expect you to keep drinking expensive coffee if you sit and talk.  I could come to your house, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
    He was worried that I would mind having a hot college boy alone at my house?!  Not likely; I’d had fantasies about him all semester, as he parked his youthfully slender body directly in front of me in the first row, ususally with legs open and baggy shorts inviting a look.
    “Fine with me,” I answered.  “How about Saturday afternoon? “
    “Saturday’s good,” he replied.  “I work at the Food Plus until noon; I can come after I get off.”  He stood up to leave, and I could not miss the obvious erection still bulging under his fly.      “Sounds like a plan,” I said.  “See you Saturday.  Come for lunch.”  I hoped that the last would be more prophecy than mere invitation.

                                                            *    *    *    *    *

    He pulled into the drive and got out of his vintage open top Jeep.  A thin mesh tank top cut off at stomach level revealed a nice thin 18-year-old build, and very low, hip hugging short-short cut-offs showed curves and contours above a sprinking of light blond hair on his lightly tanned legs.  I had not known that denim was made in a paint version, but he had surely painted these shorts on; actually they were closer to Speedos than cutoffs in fit and cut.  The denim was so tight and  so thin I could see the outline of both dick and balls.  Where fabric ended, scrotal skin peeked out from the crotch.  The shape of a cut head lay diagonally upward, and plump balls pushed out from the scant fabric below. I met him at the door and ushered him in, guiding him toward the living room with a friendly hand on his naked back.  “What would you like to drink?” I asked him.  “I’ve got beer, soda, milk, water...”  
    “I’d love a beer,” he said.  “It was a tough morning at the store.”
    “One beer coming up,” I replied, bringing one for both of us.  We sat down on the sofa, my many photo albums already stacked on the coffee table.  “We’ll eat after we sight-see for awhile.  What would you like to see?” I asked.
    “Anything, really,” he said.  “Maybe some old ruins?”
    “You better not be referring to me!” I said in mock indignation.  He started to get embarrassed, so I said “Just kidding.  Let’s look at this one.” I reached for an album and placed it in our laps.  “It’s got a lot of Indian ruins.”   We began flipping through pictures, with me narrating and explaining and recalling stories as I went.  I showed him the sea-side cliffs where my friend and I had been offered blow jobs by a pair of young Indian teens, but had not understood enough local dialect to consummate the deal.       
    His eyes widened.  “You mean the boys actually wanted to suck you off?” he said.  “Right out in the open?”
    “Well, I guess it was a pretty secluded piece of cliff.  It would have been neat, getting head overlooking the ocean.  I wish I’d understood more language at the time, instead of figuring it out later!  Then I was half hard the rest of the afternoon just thinking about it.”  His dick had swollen and now pushed up nearly to his low waistband.
    I had been laying the books in his lap as we went through them.  As we looked at more of the beautiful scenery and the awesome ruins of antiquity, I let one hand rest on his bare thigh.    He did not object, so I left it there, and casually stroked the sparse, light hair.  He reached across me for another book, brushing his hand across my lap as he did so, and leaving it there holding the photobook, inches away from my own bulging erection.  I moved my hand to the top of his thigh and dropped it between his legs.  His breathing began to quicken, and a growing wet spot I saw at the top of his penis told me I was having the desired effect, so  I upgraded my stroking from casual to purposeful.
    I moved my hand directly onto the bulge and felt his hardened prick trapped by his pants.  He did the same to me.  We didn’t need to talk.  I unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them, running the zipper down slowly, pressing against his erection with my fingers as I did so.  He moaned with pleasure, and I opened his fly.  He wore no underwear, allowing his stiff rod to immediately stand free, absolutely straight and at a slight angle from his belly.  I ran my hand down that smooth abdomen toward a surprisingly small patch of blond pubic hair, and felt a slight stubble.  He had shaved himself almost down to the top of his penis.  I caressed the solid meat, and he moaned again.
    “I’ve been dreaming about this all semester,” he said.  “Don’t stop.”
    I continued jacking him off, running a hand under his balls while I continued stroking his rod.  Then I ran my other hand up his stomach to his chest and found his stiff nipples.  “Let’s lose the shirt,” I told him, tugging the loose fabric over his head.  Then I kissed his nipples, licking each one in turn, teasing them with my tongue while I continued rubbing his cock.  It was covered in precum, and he was close to shooting.  So I decided to slow things down a bit.
    “Your turn for awhile,” I told him.  “You have a special homework assignment to do.”  And I gently guided his head toward my crotch.  “Unzip me,” I said, “and then suck.”
    He needed no further instruction, taking my throbbing rod in his mouth, licking it up and down like a popsicle.  He licked my balls with his delicate tongue, and then took them into his mouth before moving back to the shaft.  He moved up to the head and took it into his mouth.  His tongue flicked all over my head, seeming to touch everywhere at once.  I grabbed his head and began thrusting into his mouth, as he moved up and down in rhythm with me.  He was slurping and sucking loudly as I was fucking his mouth, until I felt the cum ready to burst out.  I held him firmly as I shot my cum into his mouth.  It was too much for him to swallow, and some leaked out and dribbled down his chin.
    “Back to Part One,” I said, and began stroking his hot prick again.  It was even harder than it had been before.  I peeled his cut-offs down his legs and he kicked them off.  Returning to his groin, I noticed that he had no tan line.  “Nice tan,” I told him, but he was too engrossed in my work on him to reply.  After just a few strokes, a lot more precum popped up on his head, and I used the slippery fluid to lubricate my thumb as I concentrated on the sensitive spot just below the opening.  His breathing became ragged gasps as I stimulated his young meat beyond his previous limits.  My other hand was all over his naked body, roaming from his smooth chest down to his balls, around to his tight butt, down his thighs.  He began convulsive pelvic thrusts against my hand, and with  a great groan, shot strong streams of thick teenage cum past my hand and onto his chest.  I rubbed his young man-juice around a bit, and gave my hand to him to lick clean.  He eagerly complied.
    We lay together on the sofa for awhile, quietly recovering.  He was the first to speak.
    “I have fantasized about doing this with my teachers since junior high.  But I never knew how to start, and they were far too scared to start anything with a kid.  So I’d sit in class with a hard on and jerk off in my pants, if I had a seat where I could get away with it.”
    “I know the feeling,” I said.  “I’ve had the same thoughts for years, and the same fears.   I sweat every time I see one of those “Teacher Charged With Sexual Misconduct” stories in the paper.”
    “Yeah, I know.  If I ever HAD done anything and gotten caught, I’d have died of embarrassment.  Nobody knows about me; I’ve never had the nerve to start anything with another guy.  I go out with the occasional girl just to keep up appearances, but I hate it.”
    “This is not exactly the most liberal town in the country, is it?” I answered.  “I’ve picked up a lot of gay bashing comments around school.”
    “Tell me about it.  These redneck farm boys think jerking off is queer.  I guess they figure sheep are more natural.  Or their little brothers.  But that’s not gay, of course.”
    “Oh, certainly not!” I agreed, laughing.  “That’s just taking care of natural urges.  Not gay, no.”
    “One year in high school I had this English teacher who would come to my desk and put his hands on my shoulders sometimes.  It felt so good!  I wanted to grab his hands and pull them down to my crotch, but I didn’t dare do any more than reach up and hold his hand for a few seconds.  One time he sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulders while he helped me with a piece of classwork.  His other hand was about an inch from my dick, and all I wanted was for him to touch me.  But he didn’t, so as soon as he left, I stuck a hand into my pants pocket and jerked off.  I creamed my pants a lot in school.  I made my mother buy me dark underwear to hide the stains.”
    “And you spent a lot of time trying to keep the cum from soaking through onto your pants,  I’ll bet,” I said.
    “Yeah, that too.”
    “So you never tried anything with other boys?” I asked.
    “Nope.  Too scared.  Too worried someone would tell and I’d be labeled a faggot, or else my parents would find out.  Just last weekend we visited some friends with a Summer house on the lake.  We’ve known them like forever, and I used to play with their kids, even though they’re younger than me.  Anyway, their son is 14 and just now in puberty.  He’s so cute!  We were in their boat one afternoon, and he was sitting on the bottom cross-legged.  His balls and prick kept slipping out of his swim trunks, and I thought I’d go crazy!  Later we were in the bedroom changing, and I saw about a half inch of slightly curly hair that looked so cute above his 5-inch dick and he was half-hard.  Man, I just wanted to grab it.  But I didn’t.  I liked the way he looked so much I decided to shave mine, though.  And what I really wanted was for him to suck me off.  Maybe next time, now that I know how.”
    “Aren’t you still afraid someone will find out?” I asked, carelessly moving my hand over his body.
    “Well, now that I know how good it feels, I think I’m more likely to try something.  Any boy that feels as good as this is probably not going to go and ruin it by telling his mother!”
    “Good point,” I said, discovering his rod stiffening again.  “So, I gather that you’re not going to be telling your mother?”
    “Definitely not!” he replied.  “I love my mom, but she would be totally appalled if she knew about me.  Or about you, for that matter.  She’s so straight.  And of course, she thinks I am too.”
    “Well, let’s keep her in ignorant bliss, while we continue in another kind,” I said.  “Tell me about the tan!”
    “Huh?  Oh, the tan.  Well, we have a backyard pool that’s got a privacy fence, and my parents are gone all day.  So I like to skinny dip when I’m home, and lie out naked.  It’s kind of a turn on, and I like the tan.  Do you like it?”  He turned a bit so that I could see his abdomen better, as well as his recently returned hard-on.
    “It’s gorgeous,” I told him.  “You’re gorgeous.  And I’ll bet you taste good too.”  I  bent down and gave his dick a little kiss.  Then I licked it, and took it into my mouth.  “Not too bad,” I said, “But you can do better, I think.”  I resumed giving him his first head, and he responded with the typical speed of adolescent inexperience and enthusiasm.  
    It was the start of an excellent Summer.

                    * * * * * *

    “We went out to the lake with our neighbors Saturday,” he told me the following week, “and I taught Bobby everything I learned from you.  It was way cool!”
    “Well, I think you better tell me all about it,” I said, “so I can see if you did it right.  In fact, maybe you’ll want to show me as well.”
    “Well, we’d been out in the boat again -- it’s a really neat little sailboat, but really small -- and Bobby had loose gym shorts on instead of a swim suit.  I had an old pair of Speedos on that I used to wear on the Y swim team a a couple years ago.  They’re even tighter than my cutoffs.  He was sitting cross-legged on the bottom of the boat and I was facing him on the seat.  I had to duck under the boom every time we tacked, so I moved down to the bottom with him.  Now, like I said, it’s a little boat, and there really isn’t enough room for two passengers, so we were pretty squeezed in.  We ended up pretty much crotch-to-crotch, with our legs around each other’s bodies so we both fit.  He was giving me a great view, and I was doing the same.  He’s got really impressive equipment for a 14-year old.  His balls are bigger than mine, and his dick is already about five inches soft.  When it wasn’t hard, it dangled out his leg hole, and when it was hard, it poked up at about a 45 degree angle.  We got  splashed a lot, and his shorts were pretty well molded to his various contours, and of course Speedos show everything, especially when they’re too small.  I got hard right after I got down in his lap, and so did he and we both knew the other knew.  We’d get splashed, and our dicks would go soft, and then we’d get hard again, it was great to watch.  But with his dad there sailing the boat, there was nothing we could do except look.”
    “So when we got back, we headed into Bobby’s bedroom to change.  ‘That was fun in the boat,’ he said to me as he pulled his wet shorts off.  ‘Yeah,’ I told him, ‘but I can show you something even better.’  We were standing naked face to face, drying off. His shoulders are just starting to broaden and he doesn’t have any body hair yet.  We were both still half hard.  I touched his chest and ran my fingers down to his crotch.  “You’re cute,” I told him, “and so is this.”  I took his dick in my hand and told him, ‘Touching is more fun than looking,’   Then I squeezed it a little.  He got fully hard in about five seconds, and so did I.  I took his hand and put in on my dick, and he squeezed a little too.  We started to sort of jack each other off, kind of experimenting.  I was checking out his ass with my other hand, and he started touching my chest.  We both were getting seriously turned on, and I knew we might get caught if we didn’t get out of the bedroom soon.  ‘Not here,’ I told him.  ‘They’ll wonder what’s taking us so long.  Put on your shorts, and we’ll go somewhere.’ “
    “We put on baggy shorts and tees that covered our hardons, and went down to this  old boathouse.  There was a ladder up to the second floor, where there was some old furniture covered with sheets.  We climbed up and pulled the ladder behind us.  Bobby took the sheet off an old fashioned daybed, and then I took his shorts and shirt off him.  Then he did the same to me.  So we were both naked and still hard, and we just started touching each other’s body.  I told him, I said ‘Sucking is even better than touching,’ and I pulled him down onto the daybed.  I started kissing and licking my way down his chest and ended up with his crotch in my face, and mine in his.  I started sucking his stiff prick, and then I felt him take me in his mouth as well.  In about a minute he came in my mouth, a really sudden blast, and that sent me over the edge too, and I shot into him.  Then I turned around and saw my cum all around his mouth.”
    “He looked really surprised, and I said ‘Better than looking and touching, wouldn’t you say?’  He said ‘What is this stuff?’ and I said ‘Don’t they teach you anything in school these days?’  He said that at the Christian charter school all they teach them is to pray and behave and if they don’t they get smacked.  And his parents won’t even say the word ‘sex’ out loud, let alone tell him anything.”
    “So I told him about orgasms and semen and all that, and then I asked him if he wanted to do it again, and he did.  So I took some cum from his face and started jacking him off, and he got hard again, and so did I, and we started licking each other’s chest and then sucking cock some more, and we both came again.  It was great.”
    “I should think so,” I said.  “Now you can demonstrate your new skills and show me how good you’re getting at being a teacher.  Let’s go find my own ‘boathouse.’ ”  I took his hand and led him into my bedroom, and he proceeded to show me exactly how he’d introduced Bobby to the pleasures possible after puberty arrives.  He was an excellent teacher, indeed.

The End