“Take off your
pants,” I told him, as I closed the door to my tiny office behind my
classroom. It was barely big enough for two people to sit in, but
I was planning to fuck him, not sit with him.
“What? Why?!” he asked, obviously caught by surprise.
“Because you can’t get naked with your pants on. Come on, get
them off.” I unsnapped his jeans and pulled the zipper
down. The pants already hung low, half way down his skinny ass,
so it did not take much to start them sliding down his slim legs.
“Naked? What are you talking about? I thought we were going
to talk about improving my grade in your class!”
“Well, Donny, just how do you expect to improve your grade? You
can’t write for shit, you failed the first two papers, you don’t do
your homework, and you’re absent from class all the time. Your
only asset is, basically, your ass. Drop your Frooties too.”
Although he was somewhat surprised, his cock wasn’t. It was
quickly rising towards horizontal, and creating a major tent in the
white Fruit of the Loom boxers. Apparently Mom still bought his
“Lose the hoodie now,” I said, “and step away from your pants.”
He complied, kicking off his sneakers as he pulled his feet from
the jeans. His legs were hairless, more like a twelve year old
boy than most other college boys, and so was the rest of his
body. He was down to a worn tee shirt and the well tented boxers,
although the tent pole had shifted to a more upright position and was
now higher than the waistband.
“Let he help you with the tee shirt,” I said, grabbing it at the neck
and giving it a good yank. The thin fabric parted, and I slid it
down his narrow torso, past the boxers tent, and let it fall to his
“Do you need help with the boxers, too?” I asked.
He shook his head and pushed the shorts down to join the ruined tee
shirt, while also trying to cover his hardon with his hand.
“Good. Now stand up straight.” I took his hands and pulled
them away from his groin. “Hands at your side.”
Before me stood an embarrassed college freshmen occupying the body of a
much younger teen. Maybe five foot four, not much more than 100
pounds, hairless except for a few pubic hairs at the base of a five
inch cock, no hint of facial hair, he looked as if he was just entering
puberty. He looked soft, boyish but not feminine. His dark
shiny hair was a bit long, and the dark waves framed his pale face
I touched his chest and ran my fingers downward, feeling the soft skin
of his tummy, and then brushing against his vertical cock. He
shuddered slightly at my touch but said nothing.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Seventeen. I just turned,” he replied, his voice cracking a bit.
“And when did you start puberty?”
“Not until last year.”
“I guess that’s been kind of embarrassing.”
“Tell me about it! You don’t have any idea,” he said. And
then to my surprise, his eyes teared up and he started to cry.
“Hey, what’s this all about?” I asked, instinctively pulling him into a
“It’s... it’s... it’s just so... so...hard. To be so
different from.... from everyone else. And if my retarded body
isn’t bad enough, I have to turn out gay.”
And having said that, he began full out bawling, his thin chest heaving
with sobs, his face against my chest and tears flowing down his
cheeks. His hardon, I noted, remained unabated, pressed against
So I just kept my arms wrapped around him and held him tight, rubbing
his back, his head, his shoulders, his butt, keeping him in full body
contact. After a few minutes, he calmed down and the sobs
lessened. I handed him a tissue from the box on my desk and held
it to his nose, as if he were a little kid. “Blow,” I told him,
and he did, and then again.
“Let’s sit down and you can tell me what that was about, OK?” It
was beginning to look as if my anticipated college boy office fuck was
not going to go quite as I had planned. I pulled him down onto my
lap sideways, one hand on his shoulder and the other on his stiff cock,
which was now leaking precum. He leaned his head against my chest
as re regained his composure, and I gently stroked him as he began to
tell me his story.
He told me how his late physical development had been a source of
constant pain for him during junior high and high school. As the
other boys gained pubic hair and growth spurts and ejaculations, Donny
had been left behind, a teenager trapped in a little boy’s body.
Puberty had not arrived until he was 16, despite his near desperate
attempts to coax some cum out of his diminutive dick. His doctor
assured him all was well, that he was simply on the extreme end of the
“normal” range, but that hadn’t done anything to ease things for
him. And, as if Nature hadn’t done enough to him, he’d also
temporarily developed small breasts after puberty did finally start
when he was a Junior. He told me that in the locker room he had
been the target for every kind of rude and raunchy remark only high
school boys can dream up. “Guys would come up and squeeze my tits
and call me names,” he told me. “Sometimes they’d pick me up, one
on each side, and another boy behind me would reach thru my legs and
pull my penis back and squeeze my balls, and they’d hold me up and say
‘Look at our little pinup. Isn’t she pretty? Two dollars a
fuck; five dollars for head.’ One time someone had a
digital camera and they took turns taking pictures nude with me, making
me hold their hard dicks by twisting one arm behind my back and
squeezing the hell out of my balls. They showed the pictures all
over school. It was horrible.”
Sometimes they’d kept him out of the locker room until after the bell,
saying “You have to have a penis to come in this room, little girl!”
and stuff like that. Once after gym class, some of the football
jocks had picked him up naked and wet from the shower and carried him
down the hall to the girl’s locker room and thrown him inside the
door. He’d had to run back down the hall stark naked, and
he hadn’t quite made it inside as the bell rang and the hall filled
“That wasn’t the worst, though,” he told me, his eyes tearing again at
the memory, and his voice breaking. “You promise you won’t tell
“Of course I won’t. You can trust me,” I answered, giving him
another reassuring hug.
“Well, the worst time was in the shower after school. I’d stayed
after school for open-gym -- they had open gym every Wednesday and I
liked to play volleyball -- and I was getting a shower
afterwards.” He gazed into the distance, reliving the memory, and
then continued in a barely audible voice. “The same football
jocks who threw me out of the locker room nude come in to the
shower. Of course they start picking on me. I try to ignore
them, but they’re too big and they‘re getting right in my face. A
couple of them have hard-ons, and they’re huge. I try to leave
but they won’t let me past! Then one of them grabs me from behind
by both arms and pushes me against the wall. He pushes his hard
dick against my ass a few times, and then drags me out to one of those
low benches in the drying-off area. He’s so strong I can’t do
anything to resist -- you think I’m skinny now, you should have seen me
when I was fifteen. I looked like most boys did at twelve.
So anyway, this guy drags me over to the bench and pushes me down over
it, face down. My head is hanging over the bench, my hips are on
top of it, and my feet are on the floor. One of the other jocks
pins my arms to the floor by kneeling on them and squeezing my head
between his legs -- I can’t go anywhere, and I’m so scared about
what they’re going to do to me. Then one of them says ‘Who’s got
the faggot lube?’ And then someone is rubbing my asshole, which feels
really strange. And then one of them gets down on top of me and
pushes his dick into my ass. It really hurts, and I’m crying and
trying to get up but the jock keeps me pinned and I can’t move and the
guy in my butt is fucking me and fucking me and then I feel him pulse a
few times and then he pulls out.” He was sobbing again, as he
continued his horror story.
“ ‘My turn,’ says one of the others. Before he gets on me,
though, he kneels down next to my face, grabs me by my hair, and shows
me his massive cock. It looks about a foot long and three inches
thick. ‘Look at this beauty, little girl,’ he says. ‘All
nine inches are here for you. Kiss it for good luck.’ And
he shoves it into my lips, and then gets up and mounts me from the
back, and rams it in me with no warning at all. I feel him
inside me so far I’m sure his cum is gonna shoot out my mouth.
When he’s done the third guy goes. The pain is just constant now,
and I don’t care much what he does to me. And then the last guy
-- the one who grabbed me in the first place -- gets on me and starts
to fuck me. But this guy goes slow and easy, and after he’s in he
reaches around under me and grabs my dick, which to my surprise is hard
as a rock now. So he’s squeezing my dick and fucking my butt and
it still hurts but it feels good, all at the same time. And then
I have an orgasm -- its dry, but it feels great -- and he comes in my
butt, and then pulls out. So they leave me there and tell me
they’re gonna do the same thing to me anytime they find me in the
“That was a horrible experience,” I told him softly. “I’m glad
you shared that with me. Is there any more?”
“Well,” he said, his sobs subsiding, “then I went back into the shower
to clean up. There was so much cum in me I had to let it drain
out for about five minutes. And I was bleeding some, too.
But the thing was, even though it hurt so much it felt good at the same
He was quiet for a bit, and then he said, “After that, I wasn’t too
eager to try much else, but my one friend convinced me to do some stuff
with him, like jerking each other off, and well, I started giving him
blowjobs. And I liked doing it. And then I let him fuck
me. And I liked that too. That’s why I know I’m gay.”
Maybe there was hope for my college boy office fuck after all.
“Being gay isn’t all bad,” I told him. “There are lots of gays on
campus, and groups like Pride you can hook up with. You
don’t have to feel totally alone. And look for faculty that have
Safe Zone signs on their doors.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been thinking about going to a Pride meeting,
but I’m scared.”
“You don’t have to be scared. If you want, I’ll go to one with
you. I’m one of the faculty advisors, and sometimes I sit in on
“Would you? That would be great!” He looked up at me with a
smile, put his arms around me and hugged me. “You know,” he went
on, “this may sound really strange, but I actually feel kind of good
right now. About being gay and everything. And about
sitting on your lap like this.”
“Apparently little Donny feels good about it too,” I said, giving the
smaller head another squeeze and some strokes. He was pretty
slick by this time, and I could give him a firm squeeze with my whole
hand on each stroke. In fact, at this point I was actively
jacking him off.
“Little Donny feels fantastic. Keep doing that!”
So I did, and with my increased attention to little Donny, and big
Donny feeling relieved and reassured, we both turned our attention to
provoking an orgasm. Which did not take much longer. Donny
began pushing up against my hand and breathing really hard. Sweat
appeared on his pale skin, and then with an inarticulate yell, he
shot. And he shot. And he shot some more. Perhaps
Mother Nature felt sorry for him and was trying to compensate for the
late start. He shot at least a half dozen major spurts that
reached as far as his chin, his chest, and his left shoulder.
Then he slowed down and pumped out several more major surges that
flowed over my hand. And finally he was done, limp on my lap,
panting. And covered in cum.
After a couple of minutes just resting and dripping, he looked up at me
“Wow. That’s the best one I’ve ever had. Thanks.”
“Hey, don’t mention it. Besides, we need this stuff.”
“Huh? What do you mean we need it?”
“For lube. Fresh cum makes great fucking lube. You ready?”
“Uh, you mean to fuck? Well, yeah, I guess.”
“You said you enjoyed it.”
“I did. I mean I do. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“But you are ready, right?”
“Yeah, now I am. Definitely ready.”
As we had been talking, he had turned his attention to my pants,
unbuckling my belt and getting my pants open. I’d been hard for
quite some time, and since I was freeballing today, it was easy for him
to get my cock out for action.
“Where do you want me?” he asked.
“Right in my lap, but straddling me.”
He shifted his position as instructed, and then without any further
direction scooped up some of his copious cum and slathered it onto my
cock, and then applied some more to his own backside. Now he was
“OK, lower yourself onto me,” I told him. “You go at your own
speed, and stop if you start to hurt.” After hearing his
harrowing story of the locker room rape, I did not want to do anything
to him that would hurt him in any way. I need not have been
concerned, for apparently he had indeed grown to enjoy a good fuck.
He lined himself up and sank fully onto my rod, taking me deep inside
of him. Then he pushed up until I was nearly out, and sank down
again. We quickly found a rhythm that worked, me pushing up as he
sank down, and then reverse. Fucking a barely legal bare boy who
looked like he was twelve was way hot, and I’d been holding back for
awhile, so I let myself go pretty quickly, pumping a pretty good load
into him, if I do say so myself. And as I exploded into his tight
ass, he came again, shooting every bit as much as he had the first
time, but now hitting me as much as himself.
This time he virtually collapsed onto me, his thin body on mine, his
arms around my neck, my cock still in his ass. Recovery took a
lot longer this time around. It was probably ten minutes before
he started to get hard again.
And amazingly enough, given my mature years, so did I.
Donny pushed himself back to a sitting position and looked down.
We both watched his cock steadily expand, first getting straight
and firm before beginning its ascent. Without any help from
either of us, it was fully erect and tight against his belly once again
in less than two minutes. Then I started stroking it again,
rubbing the fresh slippery cum all over the pole and sliding the
foreskin around the head.
“Doesn’t Little Donny ever wear down?” I asked him.
“Sometimes I cum five or six times a day,” he said. “But never
this close together before.”
“Maybe this is payback for having to wait so long,” I said.
“Yeah, sometimes I think so too. But waiting so long was absolute
As he’d been re-erecting and talking about it, he’d also been working
his ass muscles, squeezing my cock and encouraging it to also inflate,
and now it had. Feeling me hard in him again, he resumed his up
and down action, and as he got back into that, so did I. Shortly
we were repeating our first fuck of barely fifteen minutes ago.
“Let’s try another way,” I suggested. “Let’s get on the
floor. Wrap your arms and legs around me.”
He did, and I slid off the chair and onto my knees on the floor.
I kicked the chair out of the way, and knelt back on my ankles, and
then gently lowered him on his back onto the carpet, with his legs up
over my shoulders. Fortunately, Donny was flexible enough to
accomplish this bit of contortion. Once he was situated on the
floor, I started a full on fucking, this time driving hard into him
from above while he received on the bottom. And as I
fucked, I was also giving him another vigorous jacking off. He
responded first, erupting with more geysers of cum only slightly less
than the first two times. Feeling his spasms sent me over the
edge, and once again I unloaded my hot cum into his willing ass.
This time it was I who collapsed on top of him, smearing yet more of
his cum between us. I rested a bit, caught my breath, and raised
myself up enough to look down at his face, and then kiss him
tenderly. “I could say that you are fucking fantastic, but it
would be more accurate to say that you are fantastic fucking.”
Then I kissed him again, pulled out of his ass, and got to my
knees. “I think we may need to locate a washing machine,” I said,
“and a shower.”
Indeed, my clothes were a mess. His cum was all over my shirt and
pants, and my cum had leaked out of his ass onto my pants, and his
naked body was covered with it. I used his torn tee shirt to
clean my clothes off as much as possible, and then to wipe Donny’s face
and hands. I didn’t try to clean him up entirely, just enough to
get him respectable for the walk from the building to my car.
I handed him his clothes (except for the tee shirt, which we left
in the wastebasket), and after checking to see if the hallway was
clear, we hurried out of the building and to my car.
I only live ten minutes from campus, so we did not have to worry about
the cum drying. I’d driven my truck to school that day, and Donny
sat right next to me on the bench seat, his hand in my pants. I
needed my hands to shift and drive, or else I’d have had a hand in his
pants too. But I needed to clear up the grade business before we
went any farther with the sex business.
“Now, Donny, about your grade. You take the first two essays to
the Writing Center and get them fixed up. You hand in your
homework, and you come to every class. Understand? Because
if we’re going to have a sexual relationship, your work in class has to
look excellent, or else people will get suspicious. We can’t draw
any attention to ourselves, or have anything look like something’s
going on. Are we clear?
He didn’t say anything; he just kissed my cheek and then snuggled
tightly against me, his hand still wrapped around my dick, which he
gave another squeeze.
A minute or so later, he sort of giggled and said, “Look, I’m hard
again.” Indeed, he had his pants open, and his modest dick
had regained its solid state once again. I gave it a quick
squeeze before I had to shift gears again after a stop light.
We got to my house and I pulled into the garage. We got out and I
led him to the laundry room, right next to my master bedroom and bath.
I unzipped his sweatshirt and helped him out of it, and tossed it in
the washer. He in turn was unbuttoning my shirt and helping to
get it into the wash. Then, his hands at my waistband, and mine
at his, our eyes gazing into each other’s, we both said at the same
time, “Take off your pants!”