Lions, Tigers and Bears. Oh My!
Part 11


Usual disclaimers apply.  The following contains male-to-male sex.
If you are under age or such reading is illegal in your country, 
please go elsewhere.  Otherwise, please enjoy.

Comments and Critiques are welcomed at Kindar11@Yahoo.ca

     January 14th, 1952

     He had amazingly blue eyes; that was the first thing I noticed about Martin when he arrived for my class. The other students taking their seats or talking among each other all disappeared when I saw those beautiful eyes; it took the insistent questioning from the student about whether or not we would we would be studying Egypt this year to forced me to look away as Martin took a seat. Yes we would study Egypt, the reign of Tut, I almost snapped at him; that sent him to his seat and I started teaching.

     Every time Martin was around I had trouble focusing; his scent, a mix of allspice and lemon grass was enough to make me forget what I was saying. Catching sight of him out of the corner of my eye resulted more than once in walking into a door.His voice was already a deep baritone; when he spoke I wasn't the only one it captivated, he would make a great orator one day.

     It didn't take him long to notice how I looked at him every time we talked. I thought I was discreet, but his blush and the scent of excitement with hints of desire coming from him told me otherwise. Finding excuses to be around him wasn't always easy; teachers weren't suppose to socialize with students outside of classes, but I usually managed to run into him a time or two each day and I quickly realized he was also finding reasons to spend time with me, culminating in him asking me to be his thesis advisor. From then it would have taken little work to convince him into my bed, but I found I wanted to get to know him instead.

     He was our star cricket player, which explained the solid muscles on his arms, chest and legs, he had a passion for history that almost rivaled my own, but his focus was Rome instead of the world's history and he was afraid of the dark. His father worked at Lloyds of London, raising his family a few notched within English society, his mother was a plump little woman who loved to bake and he had two brothers and one older sister.

     In return I told him everything about Simon Adler; being born to high society form a father that was a little too strict and a mother who would let him get away with almost everything. A youth spent reading books and avoiding every duty his status required of him, running off to see the world and falling in love with its history and eventually returning to study it, excelling and then becoming a teacher.

     Martin got me to come watch him play. It didn't take much convincing; I would never turn down a chance to watch him move on the field. His team never lost, as their star he was a predator owning every inch of it and never letting an opportunity pass. When the weather was warm they would shed their shirts - against school policy - and I would get to watch his muscles ripple as he struck the ball; it was both heavenly and hellish. After the games his scent drove me wild; only my years of training kept me from taking him to a hidden room and doing wonderful things with him; that and the friends who helped me relieve the tension he caused in me.

     Things changed a few weeks after the holidays, I had been his advisor for three months now. Three months spent helping him research the Roman Empire; reading tomes after tomes looking for confirmation of an undiscovered ruler between the age Decius and Trebonianus Gallus that had been hinted at in a letter Martin had found in the archives. Months spent fighting the urge to run my hands through his dark hair, to hold his face while I kissed him, to taste every inch of his skin . . . most days I was amazed I had been able to get any work done.

     It was a bitterly cold winter that year and even wrapped in a jacket my office was cold enough that we worked close together, often touching as we peered through the volumes spread on my desk. As always Martin's scent was distracting; he was sweating under his jacket and I had to constantly force my focus back on the page I was reading. Then I realized his leg was rubbing against mine. I looked at him and he was looking back, blushing slightly, a moment later he looked away.

     "Is everything alright?" I asked him, putting a hand on his. It was trembling, but he didn't pull it away.

     "The way you look at me," he said still not looking my way, "it makes me feel strange."

     "Strange in a bad way?" I asked.

     He shook his head and then turned. "I simply don't understand it. I thought that what I feel when you look at me I should feel toward a woman, not another man."

     "The heart wants what the heart wants," I smiled at him. I'd smelled his interest in me for some time as well as his confusion, but I was happy that he was able of broaching the subject without my prodding.  "Do you want me to stop?"

     "No, I do not. When you look at me such my heart feels like it will take flight and carry me along with it."

     I kissed him to stop him. I had the distinct impression that he was about to attempt poetry, and that could only end badly. His eyes went momentarily wide and then softened. Our kiss started tender but quickly gained in passion. Soon we were holding each other tightly and I had him pressed against the thick oak door.

     I started undoing the buttons to his shirt when he pushed me away slightly, breaking the kiss. "Should we be doing this?" He was panting heavily and everything about him told me he wanted to continue.

     "Why shouldn't we?" I asked no longer working the buttons off but caressing his exposed skin; his breath caught in his throat and goose bumps marked his flesh

     "What will people think if they find out?" he asked once he could breathe again.

     I nuzzled him and whispered. "Why would they find out?" I slowly licked his ear. I pulled away and cupped his face. "Soon you will graduate and become a man. When that happens you will have to make decisions for yourself; you should probably start now. Tell me to stop, and I will stop and never do this again."

     Martin looked me in the eyes for a moment and I could see the debate going on. When he made his decision his eyes tightened in determination. He grabbed my shoulders and next thing I knew I was the one against the door; he was kissing and grinding against me.

     He pushed the jacket off my shoulders and his hands roamed my body. "I want this," he said, ripping my shirt open. His hands made my skin tingle where ever they went. My shirt fell off me and he grabbed at my sides and back. I felt his hands move lower and touch my ass only to suddenly pull away. His aggression melted away and lead to uncertainly; I could see in his eyes that he wanted to continue, but there was also doubt.

     I took his hands in mine and kissed them before putting them at his side. I finished unbuttoning his shirt and then laid him down. I kissed him and then nuzzled my way down his chest. He gasped as I licked his nipples taken by surprise at the sensation they generated.

     I left him panting before moving further down, undoing his pants as I licked his stomach. I pulled them down as I moved and by the time I reached his manhood it was fully exposed. I wrapped a hand around it and my lips around the head.

     Martin bucked with a moan, pushing more of his cock in my mouth and I swallowed it whole. I held it there for a moment before pulling off. He was panting and looking at me in disbelief. I took his cock back in my mouth and started bobbing up and down. Martin moaned, groaned and thrust against me. When I felt him getting close I stopped.

     I was panting as hard as he was. When I took off my pants the front was wet. I took a glob of Vaseline out of the container I kept and applied it on Martin's cock as I straddled him. Through the moans I saw some worry on his face as he watched me adjust myself. I smiled at him and pushed down, forcing the head of his cock inside me.

     He gasped and tensed, pushing more in. I tightened my ass around it and he bucked in response, getting it all in. I moved down with him as he relaxed and sat there while he caught his breath. When it looked like he had I started moving up and down, getting him moaning again. I knew he wouldn't last long so I fucked myself on his cock hard and fast; I wanted to cum before he did so he wouldn't be left feeling he had to return the favor. There would be other times for that.

     I was groaning a heart beat before he started and moments later I was shooting cum all over his chest. I kept my ass tight around his cock as I felt it throb inside me. He tried to buck me off him as he came, but I held on, enjoying the ride. Once he'd come down from the high I leaned in and kissed him. When he was out of me I laid next to him and held him close.

     The following months were filled with wonderful discoveries for both of us.

     * * * * *

     "Simon, the Chancellor needs to see you," George informed me. I acknowledged him without looking up from the essay I was reading. Half an hour later I was done and it was annotated where the student needed to provide documentation to support his conclusions. A twenty minutes walk later the Chancellor's secretary led me into his office where he was waiting for me, along with the vice-chancellor and both proctors.

     "Good of you to join us Simon," The Chancellor said after the moment of silence they spent looking at me. The only give away of his age was the thin crown of white hair around his head; I'd seen him without his shirt and he still looked good for a man in his sixties.

     "I apologize for taking so long, I was in the middle of evaluating an essay."

     "It's quite all right, we had other businesses to keep us occupied. Tell me Simon, how long have you been teaching here?"

     "Seven years, sir."

     "Yes, Seven years during which no one has complained about you."

     One of the proctors cleaned his throat.

     "Well, none of the faculty has had reasons to complain about you."

     "Is something wrong?" I asked. Could this be about Martin? It couldn't be, we had been extremely careful during the three months we had been seeing each other.

     "I would say," said the proctor who had cleared his throat, "quite a few parents have expressed concern over your . . . extracurricular activities."

     "I'm afraid I don't understand," I said looking from the man to the Chancellor.

     "Please Simon," the Vice Chancellor said, "don't feign ignorance of this; the entire faculty knows of your," he hesitated for a moment as if he was looking for the word, "preference."

     "This is what this is about? My attraction to men?"

     "Simon, please!" the Chancellor exclaimed.

     "What? Vice Chancellor Auger said that everyone knew about it."

     "That isn't a reason to be so blatant about it."

     "You're correct," I said after taking a moment to calm myself, "I apologize for my outburst, but I still don't understand what it has to do with my teaching position."

     "It doesn't, not really," the Chancellor said, "you have always been discreet in your interest."

     "But not discreet enough," the proctor said, cutting off the Chancellor and earning himself a glare. He took a stack of paper and waved them at me. "Parents have been writing about seeing you in questionable parts of the city and doing questionable things in alleys with other men."

     "Sirs," I said, "what I do outside of the grounds is my own business, and as for those parents who saw me in those questionable part of the city I would ask what they were doing there themselves."

     "The tool shed is on the grounds," the proctor spat.

     I stared at him, how had he known? It had only happened once; it had been a few days since I'd had sex and watching Martin play on the field had me so worked up I wasn't able to restrain myself. The grounds keeper was a friend and occasional playmate, when I'd seen him enter the shed I had joined him there; I was certain no one had noticed me.

     The chancellor silenced the proctor with a wave. "Simon, I understand that we are all slaves to our instincts." The proctor snorted. "Unlike some here I do not espouse the idea that your preference is because there is something wrong with you."

     "Thank you, sir."

     "But, giving into them is something you can and should control." I was tempted to comment that having sex only every few days *was* a show of great restrain on my part. "In the first few years you were here I was able to dismiss those complains or reassured that they hadn't seen what they thought they had, but now there have been too many of them, and the parents in question have been talking. I believe that it would be better if you found employment somewhere else."

     "What? You just said you understood my situation and you're still going to throw me out?"

     "This institution has an image to uphold, we cannot have parents questioning sending their children here because there is a teacher whose preferences they disagree with."

     "You're kicking me out because you're afraid of what a few parents will say? When did we go back to the eighteen hundreds and the witch hunts?"

     "This isn't a witch hunt and you know it," a proctor said.

     "There is also the matter that the tuition these parents pay is how we can offer the quality of education that we offer. If they were to stop sending their children here the consequences would be felt on every level."

     "This is about money?" I glared at the chancellor; I could feel my temper rising and I had no doubt he could see it on my face.

     "I'm afraid that it is. Of course you can fight this decision. I am certain that you have lawyers among your special friends and that they would be happy to take on this institution, but remember that if you chose that path, there will be consequences, and some of those might find their way down to one of your students."

     The fire in my blood turned to ice. He knew about Martin. The others looked at the Chancellor quizzically while I started at him in disbelief. He couldn't have known, there was no way anyone has seen us, but he wouldn't have used that threat otherwise; I liked all my students, but I wouldn't care if my fight with the university affected their career.

     I didn't have to say anything, he knew he'd won.

     * * * * *

     The loudness of the banging on my door was enough to tell me who it was; I ignored him and continued packing. I'd tossed and turned the entire night trying to decide what to do, in the end I realized I couldn't stay here. I started packing as soon as the sun was high enough to see by its light.

     "I know you're in there, Simon," Martin yelled, "let me in!"

     I tried to resist, but ultimately I couldn't deny him.

     "What is this about you no longer being my advisor?" he asked as he stormed in; he stopped upon seeing the trunks filled to various levels. "What is going on?"

     I steeled myself as I closed the door. "I'm leaving."

     "Why?" he asked. I didn't reply; I went back to folding my clothes and putting them in a trunk. "Is it because of me? Did I do something to make you leave?"

     "No, you didn't do anything." I continued to pack, refusing to look at him.

     "Then why?" I didn't say anything. He grabbed my arm and pulled me, forcing me to look at him. "Damn it all, Simon, tell me why you are leaving."

     The pain on his face ate at my resolve; I couldn't even pull out of his grip. "They found out about us," I said weakly.

     "How? We were careful."

     "I don't know." I closed a trunk and sat on it.

     "It doesn't matter, it's our life; we can live it however we want."

     The hope in his eyes was heart breaking. "We can't, they know what I am, no one will employ me now. I have to leave, go somewhere they don't know me."

     "Fine, then I'll come with you."

     "No!" The vehemence behind my refusal made him back away. "You can't abandon your studies. You thesis is amazing. You're going to change the way we see Roman history with it. You have to continue it."

     "I don't care about that. It doesn't mean anything if I can't share it with you. I love you, damn it all."

     I hugged him. "I love you too, more than you know. That's why you can't come with me. I can't let what I am ruin your future."

     He pulled away and looked me in the eyes. "I'm just like you, and what we are isn't ruining anything, it's the most wonderful thing I've ever known."

     I could see the determination in his eyes, I could smell it on him. I wouldn't be able to convince him. "Alright," I said defeated, "I'll stay."

     "Thank you!" he hugged me tightly. "You won't regret this I promise."

     "I know," I answered, "you'd better go back now. I'll see you tonight."

     He kissed me and I responded harder than I had before, kissing and holding him tightly against me. It was with reluctance that I let him go and watched him run through the streets out of view.

     I leaned back against the door and looked the trunks, the things I had accumulated over the last seven years; this life I had built here. I knew in the deepest part of my heart that when I told him what I was he would accept it; that he would fight every battle and make any sacrifice for us to be together.

     And that was why I couldn't stay. I couldn't let him sacrifice his future for me.

     I picked up a jacket and my cane and left, unable to stop the tears, but resolved not to look back.

Please send Comments and Critiques to Kindar11@Yahoo.ca