Date: Sun, 27 Jul 2014 20:26:05 -0400 From: Evan Williams Subject: English Teacher and Markel English Teacher and Markel ********************* The following is a work of erotic fiction for entertainment purposes only. It contains intergenerational sexual references that some might find offensive. If you think you might be offended by this content, or are underage, or are potentially unduly influenced by such eroticism, please search for another form of entertainment. ********************* "Okay, now it's time to settle down and get some reading done," said Mr. Carlton, sweat dripping down his face and a large, dark, wet blotch slowly spreading across the chest area of his T-shirt. Markel, Mr. Carlton's thirteen-year-old student, who stayed after school to work out and be tutored by his teacher, gave the man a rueful look. Running around the track was the fun part; the boy was not looking forward to the reading exercises that were to follow. The school was unusually quiet. Almost everyone left for the day. Mr. Carlton figured this should make it easier for the boy to concentrate. They went to the library, where there were large comfortable chairs and where they were unlikely to be disturbed by anyone who happened to still be in the building. As the two of them settled in Mr. Carlton spread out a magazine on the table for the boy to read. Mr. Carlton sat back in his chair, clad in cotton sweat pants and a T-shirt, recovering from the physical exertion on the track field. Markel seemed to be relaxed too, his young, brown body clad in a light T-shirt and cotton gym trunks seemed right at home in the library's large comfy chairs. Instead of picking up the magazine, however, the boy leaned across the armrest of his chair, the trunk of his body resting in Mr. Carlton's lap, so he could see the pages better. "Wouldn't it be better for you to just take the magazine to your own chair to read it?" Mr. Carlton asked, wondering why middle schoolers always insisted on doing things the hard way. "I'm cool," the boy answered, without even bothering to look at his teacher. The boy's firm body pressed against his teacher's lap. The teacher was about to say something more, but he noticed that the lad really did seem comfortable. It's rare that a teacher can establish this level of trust with a student, he told himself, and this might be the kid's only chance to feel secure around someone else, especially an adult. Better leave him alone. As Markel turned the page he shifted his body even further onto his teacher's lap so that only his sneakers were still in his own chair. He slowly stretched, catlike, and snuggled up against the man. Mr. Carlton cleared his throat and looked nervously around the room, trying to figure out whether or not he should stop the boy and file a written report to the principal about this behavior. The boy looked innocent and oblivious and sighed as he continued to turn the pages of the magazine. Mr. Carlton decide to leave the boy alone, so long as he didn't go any further with his cuddling behavior. What harm could it do, after all, for the boy to feel comfortable against the warmth of a human body while he was getting his lessons done? Slowly, however, Markel pressed even harder against his teacher. The boy felt firm and warm. Mr. Carlton, not knowing what to do with his arms, rested one of them across his boy's shoulder, softly embracing him. Markel let out another sigh as he turned another page of the magazine. Now the boy was entirely in his teacher's lap; he sat upright and continued to read. Mr. Carlton felt his dick getting hard underneath the boy's bottom. He began to feel uncomfortable. What if the boy could feel his hardening cock? How could he explain to the lad that this was a natural reaction to having a warm, firm body pressed up against you? The kid would think Mr. Carlton was some kind of weirdo. He'd think the man was a freak. He would never be able to trust the man again for taking advantage of him. Markel, however, sitting up in the man's lap, slowly moved his butt up and down against Mr. Carlton's hardening cock, gripping the armrests of the man's seat for balance. Mr. Carlton began to wonder, was the boy actually doing this on purpose? The teacher cleared his throat again. "Ah, I think you better move back to your own chair young man," he said, patting the boy patronizingly on the head. "Why? You don't want me to know you is thirsty?" Mr. Carlton had overheard enough middle school slang to know that they boy was referring to being horny. "I'm not thirsty," the man quickly denied. A mischievous grin spread across the boy's face as he rubbed his bum against the man's crotch and softly said under his breath, "Youse a lie." The boy continued to read the magazine. Mr. Carlton tried not to allow himself to get further aroused. "Okay, young man. Do whatever you have to do – just so long as you are reading." Markel paused and said, "Damn – it's so fuckin' hot in here, Imma have to take my shirt off." Mr. Carlton quickly corrected the boy, "Okay, Markel, no cussing in front of adults, and keep your shirt on." "My bad. I'm sorry Mr. Carlton," the boy said with mock innocence as he slipped off his shirt, ignoring the man and revealing his smooth, cinnamon colored body. A beam from the skylight on the roof of the library hit the boy's sleek, sweaty back and shoulders, making him glow. The boy continued his slow, up and down grinding motion in the man's lap, his armpits coming close to Mr. Carlton's face. The teacher took a deep breath of the funky, healthy smell of the boy's body. He gave a sigh of resignation and gave up on the idea of trying to stop Markel from what he was doing, even though he felt guilty about the fact that he was taking advantage of the boy. The boy glanced at the man, from the corner of his eyes, and then reached down to loosen the drawstring of Mr. Carlton's sweat pants. The teacher's arm jerked. He was about to stop the boy. Then he rested it on the boy's bare thigh, unable to bring himself to interrupt a lad in the process of exploration. The skin on Markel's thigh felt soft and smooth, even though the muscles on the boy were firm and hard. The boy tugged at the man's sweat pants and Mr. Carlton lifted his butt off the cushion allowing his cotton sweat pants to fall below his knees. Now Mr. Carlton was feeling even more vulnerable. The thirteen year old boy was now rubbing his cotton-clad butt against his teacher's throbbing cock, which was barely concealed by his boxer shorts. It wasn't long before the man's fully erect penis pushed its way through the opening in his shorts, so that he was fully exposed and rubbing against the boy's ass, leaving trails of cum snot on the bottom of the boy's trunks. Mr. Carlton felt guilty as he pictured the boy's mother, whom he met many times during parent-teacher conferences, seeing him take advantage of her son like this. Markel paused again, then he slid his gym trunks and boxer shorts down, so that they were dangling off of his feet. Now Markel's bare ass was rubbing against Mr. Carlton's exposed, throbbing cock. Mr. Carlton pictured himself being hauled in front of the school board and reporters snapping pictures of this evil child molester who was caught taking advantage of little children, forcing them to participate in unspeakable sex acts. He began, once again, to try to stop the boy, but as he stared at the boy's ashy brown elbows and the masculine way the boy's triceps flexed as he lifted and lowered himself on the man's aroused cock, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Was it possible that boy actually felt safe and knew what he was doing? Markel cautiously reached underneath his bum and grabbed the man's cock, slowly stroking the length of it. "Wow, he got a big cock," the boy gasped to himself. Mr. Carlton watched the boy as he studied his teacher's cock. The boy looked like a scientist, carefully making observations and noting his findings. The boy pressed the man's cock, lengthwise, against the bottom of his own smaller cock and balls. Markel cautiously eyed his teacher's reactions to everything he did with him. This was a student who was learning. The boy's hand movements became more vigorous. Soon, both boy and man breathed heavily. Markel let out a quick gasp, followed by a jet of boy-cum that shot up and arched through the air before splattering all over the pages of the magazine. Mr. Carlton was not long in following him, with a big burst of man-cum that splattered all over the boy's smooth brown thighs and legs. Markel stared at his cum-covered thighs and the red tip of the older man's throbbing cock, from which the blast of semen just fired, and gasped, "That shyt's tight. We need to do it again." Mr. Carlton, patted the boy on his shoulder, "Maybe some other time, sport. I'm an old man. I've only got one good shot in me a day. Besides, we really shouldn't be doing this kind of thing." Markel's face darkened. He frowned. The teacher did not want to disappoint the boy, but he had let the boy know that what they were doing was improper. Besides, the teacher had reached the limits of his ability to perform. Mr. Carlton lifted the boy by his armpits and lowered him onto the floor, on his feet. The boy twisted his cum-stained body so that he was half-facing his teacher. A look of anxiety covered his smooth, brown face, "You ain't gonna get me in trouble for this, is you?" "Of course not," Mr. Carlton said, a bit surprised, and relieved, that the boy hadn't even thought of the possibility of turning his question the other way around. He put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "Now that you've proven you're a man, let's see you tackle this reading assignment. I'll get a fresh magazine for you to work on." The boy beamed with pride at having been acknowledged as a man. Cum dripped from the boy's cock and down his smooth brown legs as proof that what the teacher said was true. Mr. Carlton and the boy went to the restroom to clean themselves off. The teacher tried to wipe the boy down with warm paper towels, but the lad gave him an annoyed look and pulled away, "What chu doin'? I ain't no baby. I can clean my own self off." The teacher smirked with amusement. The boy couldn't imagine any other motive for his teacher to want to caress the boy's brown, naked body with warm, moist paper towels other than that his teacher thought the boy couldn't do the job well enough on his own. Mr. Carlton stood back and savored the sight of his young student taking control of his lessons as he learned about manhood.