Date: Mon, 1 Mar 2010 19:33:03 -0800 (PST)
From: Jon T. <t_jon15@yahoo.com>
Subject: Who's Fucking My Boy - Chapter 12 - Jamie the Seductor

	This is a work of fiction - these characters exist only in my
fevered imagination. This story features sex between adults and willing
minors, both family and non-family members. If you're not into that or if
you are not of an age to be reading X-rated stories, please go
elsewhere. If you wish to provide feedback, you can contact me at
t_jon15@yahoo.com. Thanks to the guys who have written.
	Note to those who have read the story up to here: this is one of
the vignette-type chapters I mentioned. The timeline has been
abandoned. Hope you enjoy it.
	An additional note: I do not advocate for incest. I also am not in
favor of sex with underage boys or girls or unsafe sex. I personally find
bare sex to be more interesting and conducive to fantasy, but I beg of you:
use a condom if you are having anal sex with an actual live
person. HIV/AIDS is very real and is not to be taken lightly.


Who's Fucking My Boy - Chapter 12 - Jamie the Seductor

	One afternoon in May, a couple of weeks before school was set to
let out for the summer, Jamie was having a trumpet lesson with his favorite
teacher, his middle school's band director, Mr. Thomas.  It was the last
item on Mr. Thomas' schedule for the day. He had had a long day, and he was
very tired of being too warm. The middle school Jamie attended was not
air-conditioned, and Mr. Thomas' band room tended to be the warmest room in
the building. It was tucked in next to the gymnasium and had only one
window that could be opened. Mr. Thomas was able to set up a fan in one end
and set up some circulation between the window and the door, but it was
woefully inadequate.

	On top of the heat, Jamie couldn't seem to settle down. He kept
squirming in his chair. Jamie was one of his favorite kids and one of his
most talented, but today the little guy was driving Mr. Thomas nuts.

	"Jamie, please stop moving around on your chair. You need to sit up
straight and hold your trumpet up to get the best tone."

	"I'm sorry, Mr. Thomas. My butt itches. I didn't get fu... Oh, I'm
sorry." Jamie was embarrassed. Mr. Thomas didn't know about his activities
with some of the other teachers. He didn't want to lose Mr. Thomas'
friendship or damage the relationship they had. He saw nothing wrong with
getting fucked often by whoever wanted to fuck him, but, at the age of
12-going-on-30, he knew many, if not most, adults were shocked at such
things.

	"What did you say, Jamie?"

	"Never mind, Mr. Thomas. I'll stop wiggling around. It sure is hot
in here!" Jamie paused and thought for a moment. "How about if we took off
our shirts?"

	Sweat was dripping off Mr. Thomas' chin and his shirt was
soaked. Normally such a thing would have been out of the question, but
today it seemed like a great idea. He couldn't get the slip Jamie had made
out of his mind. He knew some of his colleagues tapped the asses and cunts
of some of the kids. Jamie was small and seemed quite innocent. But nothing
really surprised him in this place.

	He looked at Jamie, considering the suggestion. Then he said, "I am
about to pass out. Perhaps we can do that, give you some stuff to work on
for the summer, and call it a day." Mr. Thomas wasn't too concerned about
anyone catching them half-naked. The sorry-assed custodian had already made
his cursory pass through the band room. The guy gave him the creeps -
always looking at him in a way he found to be very inappropriate. He did
such a poor job that Mr. Thomas kept a broom, dustpan, and other cleaning
items in his office. Most of the other faculty had already gone home for
the day.

	Jamie put his trumpet on the floor beside him and tugged at his
school uniform top. It came off easily. He started to pick the trumpet up
and then stopped. "Mr. Thomas, can I..."

	Mr. Thomas was looking at Jamie's slender body. It was impossible
to believe this boy could get fucked by an adult. Not that he would be
interested anyway. He was a family man with a devoted wife and four
beautiful children. He had never given a man, or boy, a second
glance. "What, Jamie?"

	"Can I take off my pants? My legs feel really sweaty and yucky."

	A buzz began in the back of Mr. Thomas' mind. Perhaps the heat was
really getting to him, but suddenly he wanted to see as much of Jamie's
body as he could. "Sure, Jamie, if that will help us get through this
lesson."

	Jamie happily kicked off his shoes, unbuckled his belt, stood up,
and pulled the pants down without unbuttoning them. The action caused the
pants to pull at his underwear. Before Jamie could grab them, Mr. Thomas
caught a glimpse of Jamie's cute ass. Jamie quickly pulled them back
up. The elastic in the waistband was worn, and the briefs seemed a size too
big for him, so they sagged around his slender hips. "Sorry, Mr. Thomas."
Jamie sat down and pulled his slacks the rest of the way over his feet. He
folded them carefully and put them on the floor. "Aren't you going to take
your shirt off?"

	Mr. Thomas was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the
situation. However, he was so hot and sweaty, he felt like a wreck. A cool
shower was going to feel fantastic when he finally made it home. He
unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He was wearing an A-shirt
underneath. He pulled it off over his head. There was a towel that
Mr. Thomas kept handy on hot days, draped over a chair nearby. Mr. Thomas
took it in hand and rubbed it over his chest and in his armpits.

	When he looked up, he found that Jamie was looking with unabashed
interest at his band director's body. The buzz in Mr. Thomas' brain grew
louder. Mr. Thomas looked down at his chest. At the age of 36, he was proud
that he was able to maintain a good physique despite the demands of his
family and schedule and an admittedly poor diet. He was moderately hairy
with a flat stomach and nicely formed pectorals. His torso narrowed to
enviably trim hips. He knew his wife loved his body, but he had never
thought about it one way or the other. He was concerned mainly about his
health when he worked out.

	"You have a nice chest. My daddy isn't hairy at all."

	Mr. Thomas didn't know how to respond to the compliment and
disclosure from Jamie. For a moment, he was flustered. "Um - thank you. You
know, a lot of men aren't. Hairy, that is. You want to get on with the
lesson?"

	"Sure." Jamie picked up his trumpet and retrained his attention to
the music on the stand in front of him. He was working on a movement of a
trumpet concerto by a contemporary composer. Though it was the easiest part
of the overall piece, it was quite difficult for a player of Jamie's age,
with syncopated rhythms and octave jumps. It was clearly within Jamie's
ability, but it would offer plenty of challenges for him over the summer
months. Mr. Thomas would be teaching over the summer months at the same
music store where Andrew worked, and Jamie would see him there a few times
for lessons. The store was blessedly air-conditioned - no more of this
awful heat, at least until next fall.

	Jamie came to a rhythmically difficult passage he had not perfected
as yet. Mr. Thomas stopped him and said, "Let me play that for you so you
can hear the rhythm." He picked up his own trumpet and played the
passage. As he held his trumpet to his lips, he was embarrassed to realize
sweat was running down his side. To his consternation, he felt Jamie's
finger reach out and swipe some of it up. When he looked at Jamie, he saw
him lick it off his finger.

	"Jamie! What are you doing?"

	"Oh, I'm sorry. I just wanted to see what it tasted
like. Everyone's sweat tastes different. Kind of like cum."

	Mr. Thomas was shocked at what Jamie said, but even more shocked to
feel his cock begin to harden inside his boxer shorts. Before he could stop
himself, he blurted, "How would you know that?"

	"Oh, I've tasted lots of guys' sweat and cum. It's really quite
yummy. You want to taste mine? Well, I can't cum yet, but I'm sweating like
a pig!" The conversation was getting to Jamie. His own cock, quite large
for a boy his age and of his maturity level, was obviously hardening. Since
he was virtually naked, it was quite apparent.

	Mr. Thomas was suddenly acutely aware of Jamie's boy musk. He knew
he should stop the lesson immediately, make Jamie get dressed, and get him
out of there. But suddenly he wanted nothing more than to taste Jamie's
sweat. Jamie saw the desire on his handsome face. Setting his trumpet on
the floor, he raised his left arm, the one nearest Mr. Thomas, and put his
hand behind his head. He pointed at his armpit. "Here."

	Mr. Thomas shivered as he put his trumpet down. As he leaned over,
Jamie's scent became stronger. Before he could think about what was
happening, Mr. Thomas' tongue was against Jamie's flesh. He licked gently
up and down, lapping up the boy's sweat. The taste was intoxicating.

	"Harder, Mr. Thomas! Do it harder!"

	Mr. Thomas licked with more intensity. He realized he was swiping
Jamie's left nipple with each pass. Jamie moaned softly and reached with
his hand, grabbing Mr. Thomas' head and steering him to his nipple. "That's
so good!"

	Mr. Thomas licked and sucked at the boy's tit with wild
abandon. This was completely outside his experience. Never in his life had
he done anything with a male. He hadn't even jacked off sessions with his
friends when he was a kid. Religious conservatism and almost obsessive
monitoring by his parents prevented it. Being in music, he had known lots
of gay guys, but he was so obviously straight, only a couple of them had
made the error of coming onto him, and he had sent them on their way. He
bucked his parents' viewpoint by being fully accepting of their right to be
who they were as long as they extended the same courtesy to him.

	He pulled his head back. Jamie protested, "No, Mr. Thomas! More,
please!"

	"Jamie, I can't! I'm straight! You're just a boy!"

	Jamie regarded his teacher with a knowing, affectionate smile. "Oh,
Mr. Thomas, you just think you're straight." He reached out and stroked the
obvious knob that had sprung in Mr. Thomas' pants. Jamie's own cock was
ramrod stiff. In a flash, he stood just enough to whip his underwear
completely off. Before Mr. Thomas could react, Jamie grabbed his hand and
put it on his substantial boycock. Mr. Thomas felt like his hand had been
scalded, but he couldn't pull it away. He groaned. "Jamie... no..."

	Jamie leaned forward and took his teacher's right nipple between
his lips. Mr. Thomas had no idea how sensitive his nipples could be. As
Jamie tongued and sucked it, Mr. Thomas' mind spun wildly out of
control. He grabbed Jamie by his upper arms and kissed him. Jamie threw his
arms around his band director's neck and returned the kiss. In a moment or
two, his lips opened and pulled Mr. Thomas' tongue into his mouth.

	Mr. Thomas had never been so turned on in all his life. His hand
returned to Jamie's cock, stroking him insistently as Jamie tugged at both
of his teacher's nipples. They kissed for what seemed like an
eternity. Then Jamie pulled back. "Come on, let's get your pants off."
Mr. Thomas sat back, his heart pounding, as Jamie unbuckled his belt,
unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, and started tugging on them.

	Mr. Thomas made one more attempt to object, even as he lifted his
butt so Jamie could pull his slacks down and off, along with his shoes and
socks. "Jamie, I can't! We can't!"

	He had no idea what Jamie had in mind. He found out when Jamie
reached for his dick and pulled it through the opening in his boxers. The
boy fell to his knees and sucked his teacher's cock into his mouth. It was
not a particularly impressive one - perhaps six inches hard, cut and
slender - but Jamie loved it. This man was one of his favorite people, and
it seemed right to him that he was doing this.

	Mr. Thomas' cock was just right for Jamie's mouth. He sucked
enthusiastically as Mr. Thomas thrashed in his chair. His fingers entered
the opening in the boxers and stroked the man's copious pubic hair. Then he
grabbed the waistband of the shorts and yanked at them. Again Mr. Thomas
lifted his butt and allowed the boy to strip him naked. Jamie's mouth went
to his low-hanging, large balls where he licked passionately, and then back
to his cock. Even though they were relatively young, Mr. Thomas' sex life
with his wife had dropped way off since the birth of their fourth and final
child. And his wife had never been one much for blowjobs. Jamie was very
good at cocksucking, not that Mr. Thomas had much to compare it to. He
couldn't have stopped Jamie if his life had depended on it.

	Jamie knew the man was getting ready to blow his load, so he backed
off and sat back in his chair. He slunk way down in the chair and grabbed
his legs behind the knees. He pulled them up and exposed his butthole to
his teacher. "Please, Mr. Thomas. Fuck me."

	Mr. Thomas had never seen a more desirable sight, but he was in a
panic. He was torn. He knew he was the adult here, and he knew it was
wrong. Twenty minutes ago, fucking one of his students would not have been
on his radar screen. But somehow he knew he had to do this. He also had no
idea how one went about sticking one's dick into a young boy's butt. His
hands fluttered over Jamie's crotch and down to his anus. He clumsily
fingered the impossibly small hole. "How..."

	"I'll show you. Let me get your cock wet." Jamie leaned over and
spat on Mr. Thomas' throbbing cock and stroked it, adding more spit as he
did so. Then he tugged on the man's knees so he sank down further in his
chair, making his crotch more accessible. Then Jamie stood on Mr. Thomas'
chair, his feet on either side of his narrow torso. For a moment, Jamie's
uncut young cock was in his teacher's face. He put his hands on his
shoulders and squatted down onto his cock. Jamie made a face as the head
popped into his ass. He slowly lowered himself, taking in the spit-slick
adult cock in one seemingly easy stroke.

	"Oh my God!" Mr. Thomas had never felt anything like it in his
life. His wife had been a virgin on their wedding night, and not even her
hairy cunt on that night had been this tight and hot. Jamie rode easily up
and down as he kissed his teacher on the lips. Mr. Thomas' hands went to
Jamie's waist. His left hand grasped the boy's turgid cock.

	"Yeah! Fuck me! Stroke my cock!" By now, Mr. Thomas was hot as a
firecracker, primed to blow. He grabbed Jamie's hips and pulled him down to
where his pubes were grinding against the boy. What followed was the most
intense orgasm of his life. The man was gasping for breath, grunting and
moaning, almost sobbing. He shot what seemed like a gallon of thick cum
into Jamie's young boycunt, jerking and bucking as he did so.

	Jamie reached down and stroked himself to a quick dry orgasm. He
cried out and fell against Mr. Thomas' chest as his orgasm gripped him. The
man wrapped his arms around the boy and held on to him. Both of them
shuddered as their orgasms ran their course. Jamie's hole was awash in his
teacher's cum. They kissed again. Though they had momentarily forgotten the
heat in the room, both of them were bathed in sweat.

	"Mr. Thomas! That was fantastic!" Jamie returned to happily riding
up and down on the bare, slick cock until the man stopped him.

	"Stop! Too sensitive!" Jamie reluctantly stood and relinquished the
man's cock. It made a slurping noise as it pulled out of Jamie's well-used,
steaming boyhole. Cum dripped from it onto the teacher's hairy
thighs. Jamie stepped down off the chair and stood on the floor, fingering
his hole.

	"Wow, you shot a bunch!"

	Mr. Thomas sat back in his chair, completely winded, stunned by his
massive orgasm, unlike any in his life, and also wracked by a huge wave of
guilt. The air reeked of sex. "Jamie! You've got to get dressed and go
home! You can't tell anyone about this!"

	"Sure, I know. Is there something I could clean up with first? Or
do you want to suck it out of me?"

	Mr. Thomas was aghast at just how crazy this was and at how easily
he had been drawn in. He felt manipulated by forces and impulses he didn't
understand. "Go to the restroom," he said, pointing to a small unisex
restroom next to his office. "There are some paper towels in there. Take
your clothes with you."

	Jamie followed instructions while Mr. Thomas grabbed the damp towel
and applied it to his crotch. He was shaken to his core and knew his life
would never be the same. Suddenly, unbidden, a vision of the undeveloped
body of his 12-year-old son came to mind. He moaned, "Dear God! What have I
started?"