WARNING: This story is about an affair between a boy and a man. Do not read the contents if it will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.


Any characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead.


Anyone wishing to contact me can do so at john.thestoryteller@gmail.com


Other stories on Nifty by John Teller/The Storyteller can be found here.


All rights reserved. All parts of these documents are Copyright 2012 John T. S. Teller, and may not be reproduced in any form without the author's consent. Nifty.org have permission to reproduce it on their website.


A small sermon. Nothing in life is free. Everything costs, and Nifty is no different, so please send them a couple of $'s/'s to cover costs and stuff. They're very discreet, and you won't get your name in lights if you do. Donate here.


A Christmas Cracker.


A Merry Christmas to all my readers.


By John T. S. Teller.



My favourite teacher who I'd had a crush on for four months: Ben Kingsley, was leaving today... three days before Christmas.


He'd come in as a supply-teacher in September because Miss Riley was absent during her maternal leave after having a baby. The joke around the class was all the boys were bragging which one of them had put her up the stick. Although I was only thirteen, and gay, I could well understand why the straight lads were enjoying the joke: Miss Riley was a stunner as young teachers go. But I preferred Ben Kingsley. He was only young twenty-six and probably the most handsome guy I'd ever seen. Well, he was certainly the one who filled my fantasies every night (and often during the day), and the man administering my sexual delights every which way I desired them, was `Sir'. That suited me down to the ground, because I was always the submissive one in my fantasies.


It had started as soon as he arrived and took over our class. I could hardly concentrate, and he spoke to me three times that day because I was inattentive. In lessons that was, but I was certainly not inattentive where he was concerned. The first time I saw him he was wearing a check shirt with the sleeves rolled up, which showed off his strong, hairy forearms sporting a large manly wristwatch, and his blue jeans were filled to perfection with curvaceous man-meat. When I went home that day, my dick was sore after having taken two pummellings in the toilets, and the rest of the time it was always semi-hard when I was staring into his handsome face with dark hair and large, beautiful brown eyes that almost had me swooning when he looked at me. Yes, I was well and truly hooked from day one with Ben Kingsley. But the good thing about it was that it wasn't a one-way affair. After that day, he looked at me as often as I looked at him, and by the time October came and went, I knew he was as gay as me, and that he fancied me. But, of course, fraternisation between teachers and pupils was the worst crime he could commit, and although I knew he fancied me, I also knew he'd never cross that crazy line that society draws between us.


But maybe now he was leaving he would.


The school bell rang, and `Sir' stood up. He had a lovely smile on his face when he said, "Right you lot... it's been great teaching you, so thank you all for being ideal pupils. As you all know, I'll be off elsewhere after the holidays, but it's been fun. Now off you go and have a great Christmas."


That's when Yvonne Perkins stood up. "Sir," she said, "We've all done you a special Christmas/leaving present."


Ben grinned. "Thank you, kids. That's nice of you. It's not a time bomb... I hope."


We all laughed, then Yvonne went to him and gave him the present wrapped in Christmas gift-wrap, and Ben gave her a quick peck on the cheek. When she went back to her seat, Ben looked at us. "Do I open it?" We all yelled that he should, so, still grinning, he tore off the gift wrap and opened the box containing an autograph book that we'd all signed and left comments in. He thumbed through it, and then looked at us. "Thank you. That's a very thoughtful thing to do, and I'll always treasure it. Now off you go and good luck to you all."




It was dark outside the school. I'd been waiting forty-five minutes for him. I knew his car, like I knew almost everything else about him. It was a silver Ford Galaxy, and he lived in a small village just out of town; unfortunately, the opposite end of town to where I lived. I also knew he was leaving the area this Christmas, going back to his home town of Milton Keynes some 120 miles away, and as I lounged half-hidden against the railings, I knew that if I missed him now, I'd probably never see him again in my life, and that thought was a horrible one. That's why I was waiting; that's why I was being overly brave and prepared to make an utter fool of myself. If I got the chance, that is. He might not even see me and would drive past, and that would be the end of it all: the end of my very first love. And so I leaned against the railings... and waited.


It was cold; a cold December evening, and I was beginning to think I may actually have missed him when I saw the profile of his car come to the school gates and turn in my direction. Immediately, I was off the railings, and as he came by, I waved like a lunatic at him. He flashed his lights, sounded his horn a couple of times... and was gone. I was devastated... utterly, utterly devastated. Tears were rolling from my eyes when I realized what a stupid fool I'd been, and I began to saunter away from the school towards home. My plan had failed miserably. I would never get to feel his lips on mine; feel the warmth of his embrace; explore the manliness of his beautiful body while his strong hands and lips caressed my own. It was done, and I had failed.


Then I felt it rather than saw it... a car draw up alongside me. I glanced round and saw the Galaxy. He dropped the electric window, and asked, "Can I give you a lift home, Kyle?"


I drifted towards the open window, my head down to hide my teary eyes, and shrugged my shoulders. "There's nobody at home, Sir. My parents have gone to a party and won't be back `till late."


Ben could have put me on the spot and made me look small, but he didn't. Ben was clever. He knew why I was waiting. That's why he said, "Would you like to come home with me for a couple of hours, and then I'll take you home later? That's if your parents won't mind?"




Yes, Ben Kingsley was clever. Not once had he ever taken liberties with me, but now this chance had presented itself - no doubt thinking about it during the time it took him to drive down the road, take a right and a right and another right to bring himself past me again - he'd decided that his desire for me had been too strong to stop him taking his chance to do to me what I wanted him to do, and he knew he would be doing it with my full consent. Our four months together had told him what we meant to each other. So, thank God he was clever.


It was small talk all the way to his small house, and he was very good at putting me at my ease. By the time we arrived at his home, I'd been invited to have a pizza with him, and spend a couple of hours watching TV while my parents thought I was at a party at my friend's house. Without asking, he knew I'd been plotting and had all the small details sorted out before he even picked me up, and never once did he query anything I told him. All we needed now was the consummation of our affair... our last night together... and the only nervousness I felt was about exactly what he would do to me. But it was a lovely sort of nervousness: a tickling in my tummy and dick and balls, and even up my bum.




His rented house was nice and tidy and comfortable, with a long fabric covered sofa that took my eye immediately we entered the living room. And he was the proper host, taking my school bag and coat before going into the main room. He'd taken off his overcoat and jacket and left them in the hall, and then he followed me into the large living room and drew the curtains. That's when he really smiled, and walked towards me. He took both my hands, drew me into the centre of the room, jerked his head to suggest I look up, and right above us I saw a large sprig of mistletoe pinned to the ceiling. Then he smiled down at me and stared into my eyes. I stared back into his, our smiles faded, and then he said, "Shall we drop the pretence?"


My throat went dry, and I swallowed hard. I nodded. He smiled and pulled me into his arms.


I was a small boy for my age, slim and just about five feet tall, and he was well-built and over six feet tall. That's why, after I'd put my arms around his neck, I had to go on tiptoes to reach him, and that's why he had to drop his head right down as he took me into his strong arms as our lips came together. At first the kiss was soft and gentle as we stared into each other's eyes, and then it became passionate. I closed my eyes and sucked on the first tongue that had ever entered my mouth, and then I let him suck on mine before both our tongues began the dance of lust; imbibing a sense of surrender in me that allowed Ben to take me completely, crushing his body against mine and mine to his. Like me, Ben was lost in this very first moment of our passion, and it wasn't until he broke the kiss and stared into my eyes that I realized just how worked up he really was. His right hand was on my bum, pressing me against his hardness, and he was slowly humping at me, as I was against him. My dick was too small for him to feel it pressing against him, but I could clearly feel his hard dick against my lower belly.


We were both breathless when he stared into my eyes, and said, "You're beautiful, Kyle."


I smiled back at him. "So are you, Ben. I've wanted this ever since I first saw you."


Ben nodded. "I know. We both did." Then he cocked his head to one side. "But what else do you want?"


I hungrily kissed his lips. "Everything."   




The double bed was soft when Ben laid me onto it. He'd carried me from the living room in his strong arms, kissing me every step of the way. I returned the kisses with equal passion, maybe more because I knew what he was going to do to me. Everything was his to do, and now we'd gone this far, I knew I was about to experience everything I'd desired from him for so long. Although I'd never been with a man before, I'd prepared myself. For the last two years I'd been shoving ever larger things up my bum, and I'd reached the stage where my well-honed, beautifully carved wooden dildo could go in to its full eight inches, easily, and it had become a pleasure. I'd known I was gay since I was ten years old, so that's why I began my preparation to be ready for when I eventually got what I wanted. At first it had been painful, but even the pain was part of my turn-on. I was a natural `bottom', and submissive. But my greatest pleasure was discovering the pleasure my love-button could give to me. It wasn't far inside my bum, before the entrance to the deeper cavern that a man would occupy one day, and I learned how to manipulate it to bring me to multiple climaxes without even touching my dick. That was the best part: my dick never got sore when I was in bed playing with my love-button. My bum got sore sometimes, but that's when I overdid it, which, because I was always a randy sod, I often did. But a couple of days and some Vaseline soon cured that problem.


Very slowly, savouring my body with kisses and small bites as he did so, Ben stripped me naked. Then he sat on the side of the bed and stared at me. Then he went to a drawer in his dressing table and took out a camera. He smiled, and asked, "Can I?"


I smiled and nodded, and he began to take lots of pictures of me. I was a willing model, turning my body every way imaginable to please him, even pulling my bum wide open so he could take pictures of my arsehole. That was the turning point: he put the camera down and stripped naked. I watched him doing it, of course, and I was trembling when I saw how really beautiful he was. He had a body like a Greek God, with superb muscles and a six-pack that most men would die for, and when he turned round to fiddle in the drawer again, I almost swooned when I saw his beautiful bum so round and strong and firm. I was on my knees on the edge of the bed looking over my shoulder at him, and when he closed the drawer, he had a tub of Vaseline in his hands that would have lasted me six months, and I watched, fascinated, as he pulled his foreskin right off his knob and smeared the lubricant all over his ten inch dick.


His two fingers went in easily, and I heard him chuckle when he touched my love-button and I shivered with the thrill of it. Then he gave my bum cheeks two hard smacks before he came behind me and I felt his knob push against my sphincter. It slid through the entrance, and he pushed in further. That was too much for me, and as soon as it slid over my love-button, I began to tremble as the climax built. He realized what was happening, pulled out quickly, threw me over onto my back with my legs hanging over the edge of the bed, and was on my dick with his mouth in an instant. I knew what he wanted, and when the thrill enveloped my body, he swallowed my copious spunk greedily, and then sucked my dick until not a drop was left.


I was still recovering when he turned me over again and roughly set me in the same position I was before: on my knees with my gaping hole bared for entrance. This time there were no preliminaries. Ben didn't know I'd prepared myself for this, but he was so worked up that I don't think he cared. Not that I wanted him to... he was doing to me that which I'd dreamed about many times, and when his dick sank right into me, even beyond the point where not even my wooden dildo had been, I clenched the bed and shoved back at him as his pubic hair bashed against my bum cheeks.


His lovely strong hands had hold of my slim hips when he was banging at me, and then I heard him: "Ohhh... ohhhh... ohhhh... yesssss... yesssss... oh, fucking hell! Yesssssssssss!" And I felt the hot spunk flooding my insides, and again I climaxed.


We were like two animals as the tremendous feelings overtook us, and I joined in, screaming, "Yes, Ben! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck meeeeeeeee!"




His kisses were soft and gentle as he leaned over me, fondling my small body while I explored his with both hands. Then he smiled at me, and said, "You're the most beautiful creature on earth."


I giggled at him as I ran my fingers through his dark chest hair. "Do you really think so?"


He fondled my hard dick, and nodded. "Superb. You look like a blond-haired, blue-eyed angel who butter wouldn't melt in its mouth, but behind that angelic exterior, you're the sexiest little sod I've ever known."


I pulled a silly face at him. "Never judge a book by its cover."


Ben chuckled. "I never will again, you gorgeous monkey. I've wanted you for a long time, but I never thought it would happen."


I giggled again. "You've just pulled your Christmas Cracker."


That made Ben really chuckle, and he pulled me to him and kissed me hard on the lips. When he broke the kiss, he grinned, and said, "And I got the gift part."


I plucked at his bottom lip, and then stared right into his eyes. "We both got gifts. Mine was a super-stud, and I've been waiting for one all my life."


Ben looked puzzled. "Am I your first?"


I nodded. "The very first. And before you ask, I've been preparing myself for you since I was ten."


Ben understood. "Thank you. That's why it was so beautiful. I didn't think we'd be doing what we did."


"Do you want to do it again?"


"Don't you have to be home soon?"


I smiled. "Wait there. I need to make a phone call." I got off the bed, rooted in my trousers pocket and took out my mobile phone. Then I rang dad. I explained to him that I was having a great time at the party and that I would like to stay at my pal's overnight. Ben heard all this, and he was grinning when I ended the call and got on the bed with him again. I grinned at him. "Sorted."


"But what if they ring your pal's home and ask about you?"


I giggled. "I didn't tell them which pal's party I was at."


Ben grinned. "You crafty sod!"


I grinned back at him. "Book... cover?"


Ben grabbed me, rolled me onto my back, lifted my knees onto my chest, put his dick by my arsehole, and asked, "Shall we?"


I nodded. "All night."


Ben grinned. "Not all night."


I gave him a puzzled look. "Why?"


"This now, then pizza, and then all night."


I grinned at him. "It's a deal if you tell me what it's like to be right up my bum."


Ben chuckled. "I'll explain while I'm doing it."


And he did, and it made the fuck even more beautiful as he described how my bum was like satin round his dick, and how the pressure of my tunnel was making the nerves on his dick feel like electricity going right through his body, and when he came inside me again and I climaxed with him, we were so overwhelmed that we rolled over and over on the bed while the feelings took us to sexual Heaven.


We did have pizza, and afterward we showered and made love over and over again. Super-stud! Oh, yes, Ben was a super-stud alright. He was sexually just like me: insatiable, and after I'd sucked him off and swallowed some of his seemingly endless spunk, he matched me fuck-for-fuck, and when we eventually fell asleep in each other's arms, we did so because both of us had reached our maximum tolerance to sexual satisfaction.


********** ********** **********


That all happened last Christmas. We fucked some more on the morning after, and then Ben took me home. I remember that I could hardly walk the couple of streets to my house when he dropped me off, and I never put anything up my bum for a week afterwards. I was well and truly fucked. Because we arranged to keep in touch and meet again, our parting was as sad as I thought it would be. We did keep in touch, but the opportunity to meet never came.


Not until now that is. Ben has rented a small apartment near here for the Christmas Week, and I'm on my way there now to be, as Ben put it: his Christmas Cracker. LOL.


The end.


You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.