Date: Sat, 7 Apr 2018 05:07:55 +0200
From: Owen Davis <odavis120@mail.com>
Subject: Schoolboy Cell Phone Violation - Chapter 3 (Gay - Adult Youth)

Schoolboy Cell Phone Violation
Chapter 3

*** From Mr. Pan's point of view ***

I've been happily married to a woman for almost 10 years. What the hell was
I doing getting turned on by one of my 8th grade male students? In 12 years
of teaching, I honestly had never thought of any of my students in a sexual
manner. I mean, I can objectively notice if one of them is handsome or
cute, but I never considered myself attracted to one of them. Until the day
we started our ceramics unit.

Casey was a good-looking kid. I was aware of that. I had taught him for the
past seven months. But the moment he asked me to clean a glob of clay off
of his crotch, everything changed. When I looked down and saw the clear
sign of a boner in his shorts, he suddenly became this sexual being sitting
in front of me. I knew it was wrong to agree to clean off the crotch area
of his shorts, but when he almost begged me to do it, how was I supposed to
reject his plea?

>From the instant my hand made contact with his hard cock through the
fabric of his shorts, I became a lost cause. I felt myself instantly
hardening in my own shorts. As I wiped and rubbed the spot where the clay
had fallen on his shorts, I could feel the entire length of his cock. I
thought it was ironic that his hard cock helped me in my task to clean off
the clay, as I had something to push up against.

I thought I heard Casey let out a stifled moan as I rubbed him. I mean, I
guess that wasn't surprising. He was a teenaged boy getting his dick
stimulated. I took a glance around the room, and it seemed that the other
boys were completely oblivious as they worked on mastering the pottery
wheel. I had to stop before my own cock came ripping out of my shorts. As
soon as it looked like I had gotten the clay wiped off, I pulled
away. Thankfully Casey agreed that I had done a good job, because I
wouldn't have been able to resist "cleaning" him some more had he
asked. After I had walked away from Casey, I found an opportunity to adjust
my cock so that the students hopefully wouldn't notice anything. My shirt
was untucked and mostly covered that area, so I expected to be fine.

*****

For the rest of the day, I couldn't get Casey out of my head. Why did he
ask me to clean him myself? It couldn't have been just because he didn't
want to waste time washing off his hands. Why was he so rock-hard before I
had even touched him? Was it just because he was a 13-year-old boy, or was
he excited about our interaction? It was like I had taken a drug, and I had
to get more. I had to get my hands back on him. I had to find out about his
desires. As I lay in bed that night next to my wife with my hand on my
shaft, I hatched a plan.

*****

First thing in the morning, I sent Casey an email. We weren't scheduled to
have class, but I needed to see him. Using the fact that he had struggled
with the pottery wheel, I asked him to come see me after school so I could
help him out with the procedure some more. I made it sound like he was
already falling behind the other students and that it was important that we
take care of this now before he fell really behind.

When I got out of my shower I already had a response from Casey: "Sounds
good, Mr. Pan. I'll be there right after last period. Thanks!"

Now, how was I going to get through the next 7 hours? What had come over
me? How did I become so quickly infatuated with a teenaged boy?

*****

Somehow I got through my day. Though I was looking at my students in a
different light now. I was used to physical contact in the context of my
art lessons (e.g. putting my hands on a student's hands to teach how to
mold the clay), but I had never felt any kind of sexual reaction from
myself. Now it was different. When I put my hands on certain students, I
felt something now. But I did my very best to just ignore it. I couldn't
just start molesting students left and right. I was focused on Casey.

As soon as last period was finished, I turned out the lights and made sure
the door would stay locked from the outside when I closed it. My
second-story room had plenty of daylight shining in, so the artificial
lights wouldn't be missed. After Casey came in, I wanted it to look like no
one was there, if someone else happened to come by.

Casey showed up fairly quickly, only minutes after the end of last
period. I invited him in, nonchalantly closing the door behind him.

"Thanks for coming, Casey. You've been one of the best, if not THE best
student, in this class. So since you have gotten off to a rough start with
the ceramics unit, I wanted to give you a hand."

"Thanks, Mr. Pan. I appreciate it."

"How about you have a seat over here. This wheel works particularly well."
I led him to a pottery wheel that couldn't be seen from the door. "Have a
seat."

Casey sat down on the stool. He looked up at me, awaiting my next
instruction, his young brown eyes opened wide. He was wearing a plain red
polo shirt with two buttons undone. I looked at the beautiful smooth skin
at the top of his chest. I was pretty sure he had on the same pair of
shorts as yesterday and that I could see a small stain where I had wiped
off the clay. His legs were perfect. They screamed 13-year-old boy to
me. Creamy smooth but with a dusting of hair in his early adolescence. The
curves and muscles complemented each other just right. I looked back up at
his face. So smooth, I couldn't find a single blemish as I quickly scanned
each square inch.

I grabbed the fresh block of clay that I had prepared on a nearby table and
put it down on the disc. "Alrighty, Casey, let me see what you remember
from yesterday. Go for it."

Casey dug his hands into the clay and was about to start the wheel spinning
when he stopped. "Um, Mr. Pan?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have an extra smock. I really don't want to get my shirt dirty,
it's my favorite one."

"Sorry bud, the only smocks I have would only fit the lower school kids,
not someone as big as you. I've never actually had a middle-schooler ask
for one that I can remember. Um, if you want, you can just take off your
shirt."

"Oh, uh, I guess I could just do that. My hands are already dirty
though. Could you take off my shirt for me?"

"Sure, no problem." Holy shit. This was already going better than I could
have imagined. First we carefully maneuvered his arms out of the sleeves,
making sure not to let his hands touch the fabric. He looked so cute and
vulnerable sitting there with his arms now inside the shirt. I grabbed the
bottom of his shirt and slowly lifted it up, purposely letting my fingers
brush along his skin as we passed over the entire height of his chest. He
felt so soft. When I lifted his shirt high enough to cover his face, I
pretended to get it stuck for a moment while I took an extra opportunity to
gawk at the glorious sight of his now-exposed chest. Thoughts of sucking on
his nipples rushed through my mind. I gave my hard cock a squeeze. Finally
his shirt was fully removed, and I carefully placed it in a clean place on
my desk.

Casey had started up the wheel on a very slow speed and was starting to
shape the clay.

"First thing to fix is your posture. Do you mind if I show you?" I was
pretty sure posture had very little to do with how my ceramic projects came
out, but I needed to get my hands back on this boy.

"You're the teacher."

I placed my hands on his shoulders and pulled them back slightly. Then I
put one hand on his back and one on his abdomen, straightening the way he
was sitting. As Casey worked on his spinning creation, he kept slouching,
and I would correct him with my hands each time.

"You keep reverting back to a bad position, Casey. I have an idea
though. I'm going to sit behind you to help control how you are sitting." I
pulled up a second stool directly behind him and sat down. I put both hands
back on his body to once again fix his posture. This time I held them there
while Casey continued to work. Slowly I inched a little closer to Casey
until my crotch was probably an inch of his backside. I felt my left leg
make slight contact with Casey's left leg. My body shuddered as I felt his
skin on mine. I could see a few hairs poking out of each of his armpits. I
was getting so turned on, and I could feel my cock straining against my
shorts.

Casey was actually doing really well with the clay at this point. He had a
ton of natural talent in art, and all he needed was a little extra practice
to pick up this new skill. Casey didn't seem to mind that I had held my
hands on him for the past few minutes, so I decided to get a bit bolder. As
I complimented him on how he was doing and gave him a few more pointers, I
allowed my hand to creep a little bit lower on his chest. It was now in the
place between his belly button and shorts. I rested my index finger
directly on his belly button and my pinky finger was making contact with
the waist of his shorts. Then I slipped my pinky ever-so-slighty under the
waist band. It was really just the top centimeter of my finger and could
have been interpreted as incidental contact. But Casey felt it and let out
a tiny moan, hardly audible, especially over the whirring sound of the
pottery wheel. But I heard it.

I leaned even closer to his head and breathed in deeply. Usually, I didn't
care for the scent of my 8th grade boys, especially at the end of a long
school day, but something about Casey's smell right then was
intoxicating. I had the urge to reach out and lick his neck. Instead, I
spoke in a low voice near his ear, "You're doing such a great job, Casey."

He turned his head suddenly as he started to say "Thanks," but I couldn't
get my head out of the way in time, and he bumped his face directly into
mine. His lips brushed my cheek slightly. I was so startled that I removed
my hands from Casey altogether and jumped back a few inches.

"Oops, sorry Mr. Pan!" He turned back toward the wheel.

"That's OK, Casey."

Casey continued to work, and I sat behind him staring at his hair and
shirtless teen body. "Mr. Pan, aren't you going to continue helping me with
my posture?"

Hmm. He wanted my hands back on him. Without saying a word in response, I
placed my hands back where they were before. We continued on for a few
minutes before I spoke again. "Casey, you feel a bit tense. I'm gonna
loosen you up a bit, if that's OK."

"Uh huh."

Thus began my massage of Casey's body. I started with his shoulders, a
natural place to begin. I spent a small amount of time on each arm, but
that was hard because I was messing up his clay spinning. But I did feel
his developing arm muscles, and that made my cock twitch. I worked on his
back and his sides before running my hands along the front of his chest,
massaging his young pectoral muscles. As my hands crept lower and lower on
his chest, Mark moaned his approval. He took his hands off the clay and his
foot off the pedal, letting the wheel come to rest. He leaned back
slightly, resting his back against my chest. I decided that it was now or
never, and I started to creep a few fingers under the waistband of Mark's
shorts.

He didn't stop me so I continued. I could feel some of his pubic hair! I
couldn't believe my hand was going down this 13-year-old's shorts. I
thought I would cum in my own shorts right then. I slipped more of my hand
in.

Suddenly I felt a presence behind me. I turned my head and immediately
jumped up from my stool. It was Owen Davis, the 8th grade science
teacher. Somehow he had come into my classroom, and we didn't hear him over
the sound of the pottery wheel.

I spoke first. "Oh! Owen, uh, Mr. Davis, you startled me!" I was attempting
to explain whey I had jumped up, and hoped that somehow he hadn't seen
where my hand had been.

"What's going on here?"

"Oh, I was giving Casey a ceramics lesson. He didn't want to get his shirt
dirty, so he took it off. I was helping him out with his posture a little
bit when you must have walked in."

"Casey," said Mr. Davis. "I think you should leave now."

Casey didn't say a word. But he got up and walked over to the sink to wash
his hands. Then he found his shirt and slipped it on before grabbing the
rest of his stuff and leaving my room. While all of this was happening,
Owen and I just stood there silently. My heart felt like it was beating 200
beats per minute, and my mind started racing all over the place. What the
fuck had I just done? If Owen had seen what was really going on, my life
could be over. How could I have been so stupid?

After Casey left, Owen spoke up. "John. I saw what was happening."

"Uh, what do you mean? I just told you what was happening."

"Your hand was literally in the kid's shorts, John."

"That's ridiculous, Owen. You must..."

"Save your breath. I saw." He then turned his back to me and started
walking toward the door.

"Owen," I called after him.

He stopped and turned around to face me again.

"Can't we talk about this? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, John." Then he turned around again and left.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.


*End of Chapter 3*


Sorry for the teasing! But don't worry, the next chapter will be out very soon.

Link to my other story:
www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/he-brought-his-own-balls

Owen
odavis120@mail.com

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