Date: Mon, 29 Jan 2007 14:50:48 -0700 From: Joseph Farrin Subject: Yet Another Teacher - 2 0nce we were in bed he really started making love. He wrapped his arms around me kissed me, took my hand and wrapped it around his shaft, and kept rubbing his body up and down against mine. He had me so fucking hot I was about to explode when he said, "Joey, I want to fuck you!" I couldn't believe what he'd said and replied, "Huh?" as though I either hadn't heard or hadn't understood. "You know, I want to stick my cock inside you and fuck you like I'd fuck a girl." "Have you ever fucked a girl?" "No but all it takes is sticking your dick in and pumping it in and out." "Stick it where?" "In your bottom." "Will it hurt?" "I've been told it does, especially the first time, but then you'll get to like it. It's the other kind of male love I was telling you about. I guess if I rubbed lard on my cock it might make it hurt less." "That sounds too messy. If it hurts will you stop?" "You know I would. I don't want to hurt you." He put me on my back, lifted my legs and told me to hold them up. He slowly began to push his cock inside me, which was sort of OK, as he stopped often enough for me to get somewhat comfortable with having it inside me and I liked raising my head and looking down and watching it going into my body. Finally he got it all in. It felt like it was twice the length and thickness that it really was and it hurt like the devil. "Wrap you legs around me, Joey. So far, you're doing great!" "So far" was right. When he began fucking me, I asked him to stop. He didn't. I started crying and asked again. He said, "I can't, I'm cuming!" He really was, I could feel his cock climaxing in my body. It still hurt, I was still crying but, at the same time, I realized it was probably the ultimate intimacy that could possibly occur between a man and a boy. He leaned over, practically crushing me, locked me into a kiss and then said, "Jesus, Joey, I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?" I couldn't stop crying and he kept telling me how sorry he was, why he shouldn't have done it after he'd been drinking. Finally I managed to reply, "Terry, it really did hurt, but I know it excited you and having sex with you has become very important to me these past two weeks. If you liked doing it, there's nothing to forgive. I want you to do it again. I'll get used to it. It was Terry's turn to cry. "Joey, in two weeks, we've come full circle, from experimenting with sex all the way to love. I didn't mean to but I've fallen in love with you." "I glad, Terry. I love you, too, and it's the nicest, warmest feeling I've ever had. "It really is, Joey. It really is and especially on a cold, November night." "Terry, don't blow out the candle. Just face me and throw an arm and leg over me and put your head next to mine. He did, and, believe it or not, we actually made the Presbyterian Church service. I was so proud being seen with Terry; especially when he introduced me to people he knew and told them I was staying with him for three weeks and explained why. There weren't many 12-year- old boys that got to stay with their teacher for three weeks. It was especially enjoyable because they all lived in identical houses and had to know "staying with" probably also meant "sleeping with". I loved watching the expression on some of their faces. The last week with Terry seemed to pass quicker than the first two. Every day he was leaning over me from the back of my seat to look at my homework and I was pushing my head back into his crotch and he was noticeable harder. I guess to make up for his fucking me; he always let me choose what I wanted to do. I varied my choices from sucking him, to 69 and getting fucked. Sometimes I was just hot to jack him off so I could watch him harden and shoot his load out of his piss slit. He was noticeably hornier, too. When he'd take his pants off his cock would already be sticking out between the bottom buttons of his long underwear. We always did something at night in bed, too, including a lot more talking. He kept telling me how much he loved me, as if I doubted that he did. At night in bed, we also laid plans for what would happen when my mom returned and decided that he'd pop over to my house everyday after school and help me carry in coal and chop kindling wood to get a fire started, which would leave time for me to go to his house for love making. When my mom came home she explained that her father was going to sell his house and move into a small apartment so the things he gave her amounted to far more than she'd originally imagined. I had to get my red wagon out of the shed and take it to the post office to carry the almost daily boxes home. In return for Terry taking care of me for three weeks, she gave him a lot of glassware, dishes, cookware, some nice blankets and bed linen and heavy towels. He was sort of overwhelmed; so one Saturday while mom was at work he installed the same wire mold and light fixtures in our house as he'd done in his. He even bought a floor lamp, not the same, but a similar one that he found in the Sears Roebuck catalogue. Mom invited him for dinner on Thanksgiving and knit two sweaters, one a slip over with long sleeves and one that was like a vest, no arms and buttons in front, as a Christmas present. She knit me one with no arms and buttons down the front. They were great for wearing in school and we both wore them all the time. The kids probably thought we'd bought them at the same store. Terry went home for the Christmas – New Year's vacation. I about died while he was gone, but we made up for lost time when he returned. It made me wonder how I'd possibly get along without him during summer vacation. It was somewhat mitigated when he told me the school board wanted him to stay on for another year. The really good news, though, was when he told me that after his second year in Martinsville, he was going to teach high school in Colton, and by that time I'd be there, too. I asked him where he'd live and he replied in the same place – he didn't want to move and the school board agreed to his terms. My mom was no dummy because she realized that Terry and I had bonded and she approved saying I needed a father figure in my life. Consequently, she began letting me spend Friday evenings and all day Saturdays at his house. We'd go to talkies at the movie theater in Bailey and always sat at the back of the bus on the way home. Getting fucked no longer hurt, even on the occasional times when Drew Carlton knocked at the door and pulled a bottle of whiskey out of his jacket pocket. I knew that despite Terry's repentance over the first time he fucked me when he got drunk, that it would happen again. So, I'd get the two little black and white pamphlets out of his trunk and read them while sitting under the new floor lamp. Then, when Drew left and Terry got into bed, I'd fantasize about my role, picturing myself as the cunt that was getting fucked in the ass. And while he was fucking me, I'd imagine I was the girl he'd never fucked, sometimes I'd think of myself as his newly wed bride on our honeymoon. That wasn't as far fetched as you might think – when he'd been drinking he was really eager and his cock was strong but it took him longer to climax and he was mushy in his verbal lovemaking after he did. I'd even stopped replying and just listened because I enjoyed listening to him so much, realizing he was saying things that he really felt, but wouldn't say if he was sober. One Saturday night, they were both on their way to getting drunk but Drew made it before Terry did. A wind had come up and snow was predicted, so Terry said, "I don't think we should let Drew chance walking down hill alone a half mile to Colton." So we undressed him down to his long underwear and put him to bed next to the table with the candle. We stayed up a half hour longer talking and got ready for bed ourselves. We moved the candle across the room, so Drew wouldn't accidentally knock it over. I slept in the middle and Terry got in next to the wall. Terry was on the opposite side of me than usual but he still slung an arm and a leg over me and put his head against my neck. During the night he and I shifted positions as we sometimes did and which I became aware of in a semi- awake mode. We were back to back. You can probably guessed what I did, knowing me. Terry hadn't fucked me and I had neither sucked him nor jacked him off and I was horny, I needed to play with a man cock. I made a slow, exploratory move by reaching around Drew and placing my hand atop his crotch. I found what I had hoped and wanted to find. Feeling his cock through his underwear, it felt large but still soft. He didn't move, so I very carefully unbuttoned the bottom three buttons of his long johns and lifted his cock out. It was now entirely free to play with. All the time I was prepared to roll over on my back if he as much as moved an inch or uttered a sound. In fact I moved my hand away but left my arm over him for a few minutes before continuing. When I again felt it I knew he was about the same size as Terry, but, like me, he hadn't been circumcised. I skinned it back and paused, listened to his breathing and he didn't move. I was afraid to jack it, so I just kept feeling it, squeezing it, stopping and waiting again to see if he'd move, which he didn't. I was about to chance stroking it when it hardened but after two strokes his cum started spitting out of his piss slit. I rolled over and threw an arm around Terry. I couldn't get back to sleep so I just remained still. I would have liked to masturbate, but I was afraid to, not knowing how I'd explain pecker tracks on my underwear or the bottom sheet. If Drew left pecker tracks, and Terry quizzed me about them, I'd say he must have had a wet dream – or, as Terry called it, a nocturnal emission. Luckily I was up and out the door before either of them woke up. I went home, the wind had died down and it hadn't snowed, so my mom and I got ready to go to the 9'oclock Mass. After that, Drew kept looking at me when he came over; maybe he knew, maybe he didn't. Maybe he just kind of liked me. I eventually found out. He and three other male teachers from the Colton high school were spending the summer, earning extra money by painting some of the classrooms, cleaning and varnishing the wood floors, that sort of stuff, because Colton's one and only painting contractor had gone elsewhere. I met him in the grocery store/post office one Saturday morning and he began visiting with me – had I heard from Terry – he bet I missed him – that sort of stuff. Then he surprised me by asking if I wanted to stop at his house saying it was on the road back to Martinsville and he'd make some Kool-Aid. It came in packages in different flavors and you mixed it with sugar and water to make a soft drink. I liked it even though he didn't have ice to make it cold. Sitting at his kitchen table, sideways so we could look at each other I noticed he had an erection. I guessed I looked at it too long because he said, "Do you want that?" "What do you mean?" "You know what I mean!" As he said it, he unbuttoned his pants and took it out. "Go down on it Joey!" Terry had never used those words but I knew what he meant and knelt on the floor between his legs. He unbuckled his pants and pulled them, along with his summer shorts down to the floor. I skinned back the foreskin off his cockhead and "went down on it" using his expression. He seemed to really need it and I sure did because Terry had been gone for three weeks and I was dying. Then he asked, "Do you swallow?" I shook my head and had just got to going good when his urinary tube enlarged and harden. I knew what that meant by now and got ready to swallow his "love juice", another of Terry's terms. TO BE CONTINUED -- I hope you are enjoying the story.