Summer Studies
by Ashley Hardric ©2005
ahardric@gmail.com
This is a work of fiction. That means it is
not true. Didn’t happen. It’s a figment. No boys were
involved or harmed in the writing of this story and no trees were
sacrificed. The author does not condone sex with boys; he just
writes fantasies about it. Further, sex in reality requires
caution and protection, but my characters won’t catch any bad bugs
unless I write them in. Be safe and legal in the real world, and
enjoy the story only if you are of age and location to legally do so.
**This story is the property of the author and may
not be reproduced elsewhere (i.e. other than Nifty Archive)
without his permission.**
*******************
Sean’s head turned from my crotch to look up at me;
a large dribble of cum was leaking down his chin and a look of
wide-eyed wonder was on his face. “Not bad, kiddo, not bad
at all,” I said to him, pulling him up to give him a kiss.
“You’re a quick learner.”
“All the teachers used to tell me that,” he
replied. “And you’re one hell of a teacher!”
“Aw shucks,” I said, “It weren’t nuthin’.” I
kissed him again and held his slender chest next to mine. I could
feel the beating of his heart, and when I moved my hand down his smooth
belly I could feel his hard-on as well. I thought back to the
ordinary events that had lead us to this extraordinary situation.
It was the end of the college term; classes were
finished, grades were posted, and only optional conferences
remained. Sean had come by to talk and we had chatted casually
for over an hour, covering things from his progress in the class to our
mutual interest in photography to my recent travels. I had spent
a few years abroad, living in South America. When I mentioned how
that experience had really helped me in my teaching at this school, he
was immediately interested. He was also apparently hard; a
definite penile bulge had appeared in his pants, along the junction of
thigh and abdomen.
“You spent five years in Peru?” he asked
excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to go to South America. I
studied Spanish in high school but I could never afford any of the
school trips. What was it like?”
“It was a fantastic experience,” I said. “I
wouldn’t trade my years there for anything. Incredible country,
wonderful people, motivated students. Está buenissimo!”
“Man, you are are so lucky. I’ll be lucky if I
ever get out of Redneckville, USA, here.”
“Some necks around here do tend to be a bit on the
reddish side, don’t they?” I agreed. “If you’re interested, I’d
be happy to show you some of my pictures. I brought back more
than a few.”
“Would you? That would be great! I’d
really like to see them!!”
“The campus is closing tomorrow; where shall we
meet? We could go to one of the coffee shops in town.
Or you could come out to my house. Which would you prefer?”
“Doesn’t matter to me, but the shops expect you to
keep drinking expensive coffee if you sit and talk. I could come
to your house, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
He was worried that I would mind having a hot
college boy alone at my house?! Not likely; I’d had fantasies
about him all semester, as he parked his youthfully slender body
directly in front of me in the first row, ususally with legs open and
baggy shorts inviting a look.
“Fine with me,” I answered. “How about
Saturday afternoon? “
“Saturday’s good,” he replied. “I work at the
Food Plus until noon; I can come after I get off.” He stood up to
leave, and I could not miss the obvious erection still bulging under
his fly. “Sounds like a plan,” I said.
“See you Saturday. Come for lunch.” I hoped that the last
would be more prophecy than mere invitation.
* * *
* *
He pulled into the drive and got out of his vintage
open top Jeep. A thin mesh tank top cut off at stomach level
revealed a nice thin 18-year-old build, and very low, hip hugging
short-short cut-offs showed curves and contours above a sprinking of
light blond hair on his lightly tanned legs. I had not known that
denim was made in a paint version, but he had surely painted these
shorts on; actually they were closer to Speedos than cutoffs in fit and
cut. The denim was so tight and so thin I could see the
outline of both dick and balls. Where fabric ended, scrotal skin
peeked out from the crotch. The shape of a cut head lay
diagonally upward, and plump balls pushed out from the scant fabric
below. I met him at the door and ushered him in, guiding him toward the
living room with a friendly hand on his naked back. “What would
you like to drink?” I asked him. “I’ve got beer, soda, milk,
water...”
“I’d love a beer,” he said. “It was a tough
morning at the store.”
“One beer coming up,” I replied, bringing one for
both of us. We sat down on the sofa, my many photo albums already
stacked on the coffee table. “We’ll eat after we sight-see for
awhile. What would you like to see?” I asked.
“Anything, really,” he said. “Maybe some old
ruins?”
“You better not be referring to me!” I said in mock
indignation. He started to get embarrassed, so I said “Just
kidding. Let’s look at this one.” I reached for an album and
placed it in our laps. “It’s got a lot of Indian
ruins.” We began flipping through pictures, with me
narrating and explaining and recalling stories as I went. I
showed him the sea-side cliffs where my friend and I had been offered
blow jobs by a pair of young Indian teens, but had not understood
enough local dialect to consummate the deal.
His eyes widened. “You mean the boys actually
wanted to suck you off?” he said. “Right out in the open?”
“Well, I guess it was a pretty secluded piece of
cliff. It would have been neat, getting head overlooking the
ocean. I wish I’d understood more language at the time, instead
of figuring it out later! Then I was half hard the rest of the
afternoon just thinking about it.” His dick had swollen and now
pushed up nearly to his low waistband.
I had been laying the books in his lap as we went
through them. As we looked at more of the beautiful scenery and
the awesome ruins of antiquity, I let one hand rest on his bare
thigh. He did not object, so I left it there, and
casually stroked the sparse, light hair. He reached across me for
another book, brushing his hand across my lap as he did so, and leaving
it there holding the photobook, inches away from my own bulging
erection. I moved my hand to the top of his thigh and dropped it
between his legs. His breathing began to quicken, and a growing
wet spot I saw at the top of his penis told me I was having the desired
effect, so I upgraded my stroking from casual to purposeful.
I moved my hand directly onto the bulge and felt his
hardened prick trapped by his pants. He did the same to me.
We didn’t need to talk. I unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them,
running the zipper down slowly, pressing against his erection with my
fingers as I did so. He moaned with pleasure, and I opened his
fly. He wore no underwear, allowing his stiff rod to immediately
stand free, absolutely straight and at a slight angle from his
belly. I ran my hand down that smooth abdomen toward a
surprisingly small patch of blond pubic hair, and felt a slight
stubble. He had shaved himself almost down to the top of his
penis. I caressed the solid meat, and he moaned again.
“I’ve been dreaming about this all semester,” he
said. “Don’t stop.”
I continued jacking him off, running a hand under
his balls while I continued stroking his rod. Then I ran my other
hand up his stomach to his chest and found his stiff nipples.
“Let’s lose the shirt,” I told him, tugging the loose fabric over his
head. Then I kissed his nipples, licking each one in turn,
teasing them with my tongue while I continued rubbing his cock.
It was covered in precum, and he was close to shooting. So I
decided to slow things down a bit.
“Your turn for awhile,” I told him. “You have
a special homework assignment to do.” And I gently guided his
head toward my crotch. “Unzip me,” I said, “and then suck.”
He needed no further instruction, taking my
throbbing rod in his mouth, licking it up and down like a
popsicle. He licked my balls with his delicate tongue, and then
took them into his mouth before moving back to the shaft. He
moved up to the head and took it into his mouth. His tongue
flicked all over my head, seeming to touch everywhere at once. I
grabbed his head and began thrusting into his mouth, as he moved up and
down in rhythm with me. He was slurping and sucking loudly as I
was fucking his mouth, until I felt the cum ready to burst out. I
held him firmly as I shot my cum into his mouth. It was too much
for him to swallow, and some leaked out and dribbled down his chin.
“Back to Part One,” I said, and began stroking his
hot prick again. It was even harder than it had been
before. I peeled his cut-offs down his legs and he kicked them
off. Returning to his groin, I noticed that he had no tan
line. “Nice tan,” I told him, but he was too engrossed in my work
on him to reply. After just a few strokes, a lot more precum
popped up on his head, and I used the slippery fluid to lubricate my
thumb as I concentrated on the sensitive spot just below the
opening. His breathing became ragged gasps as I stimulated his
young meat beyond his previous limits. My other hand was all over
his naked body, roaming from his smooth chest down to his balls, around
to his tight butt, down his thighs. He began convulsive pelvic
thrusts against my hand, and with a great groan, shot strong
streams of thick teenage cum past my hand and onto his chest. I
rubbed his young man-juice around a bit, and gave my hand to him to
lick clean. He eagerly complied.
We lay together on the sofa for awhile, quietly
recovering. He was the first to speak.
“I have fantasized about doing this with my teachers
since junior high. But I never knew how to start, and they were
far too scared to start anything with a kid. So I’d sit in class
with a hard on and jerk off in my pants, if I had a seat where I could
get away with it.”
“I know the feeling,” I said. “I’ve had the
same thoughts for years, and the same fears. I sweat every
time I see one of those “Teacher Charged With Sexual Misconduct”
stories in the paper.”
“Yeah, I know. If I ever HAD done anything and
gotten caught, I’d have died of embarrassment. Nobody knows about
me; I’ve never had the nerve to start anything with another guy.
I go out with the occasional girl just to keep up appearances, but I
hate it.”
“This is not exactly the most liberal town in the
country, is it?” I answered. “I’ve picked up a lot of gay bashing
comments around school.”
“Tell me about it. These redneck farm boys
think jerking off is queer. I guess they figure sheep are more
natural. Or their little brothers. But that’s not gay, of
course.”
“Oh, certainly not!” I agreed, laughing.
“That’s just taking care of natural urges. Not gay, no.”
“One year in high school I had this English teacher
who would come to my desk and put his hands on my shoulders
sometimes. It felt so good! I wanted to grab his hands and
pull them down to my crotch, but I didn’t dare do any more than reach
up and hold his hand for a few seconds. One time he sat next to
me and put his arm around my shoulders while he helped me with a piece
of classwork. His other hand was about an inch from my dick, and
all I wanted was for him to touch me. But he didn’t, so as soon
as he left, I stuck a hand into my pants pocket and jerked off. I
creamed my pants a lot in school. I made my mother buy me dark
underwear to hide the stains.”
“And you spent a lot of time trying to keep the cum
from soaking through onto your pants, I’ll bet,” I said.
“Yeah, that too.”
“So you never tried anything with other boys?” I
asked.
“Nope. Too scared. Too worried someone
would tell and I’d be labeled a faggot, or else my parents would find
out. Just last weekend we visited some friends with a Summer
house on the lake. We’ve known them like forever, and I used to
play with their kids, even though they’re younger than me.
Anyway, their son is 14 and just now in puberty. He’s so
cute! We were in their boat one afternoon, and he was sitting on
the bottom cross-legged. His balls and prick kept slipping out of
his swim trunks, and I thought I’d go crazy! Later we were in the
bedroom changing, and I saw about a half inch of slightly curly hair
that looked so cute above his 5-inch dick and he was half-hard.
Man, I just wanted to grab it. But I didn’t. I liked the
way he looked so much I decided to shave mine, though. And what I
really wanted was for him to suck me off. Maybe next time, now
that I know how.”
“Aren’t you still afraid someone will find out?” I
asked, carelessly moving my hand over his body.
“Well, now that I know how good it feels, I think
I’m more likely to try something. Any boy that feels as good as
this is probably not going to go and ruin it by telling his mother!”
“Good point,” I said, discovering his rod stiffening
again. “So, I gather that you’re not going to be telling your
mother?”
“Definitely not!” he replied. “I love my mom,
but she would be totally appalled if she knew about me. Or about
you, for that matter. She’s so straight. And of course, she
thinks I am too.”
“Well, let’s keep her in ignorant bliss, while we
continue in another kind,” I said. “Tell me about the tan!”
“Huh? Oh, the tan. Well, we have a
backyard pool that’s got a privacy fence, and my parents are gone all
day. So I like to skinny dip when I’m home, and lie out
naked. It’s kind of a turn on, and I like the tan. Do you
like it?” He turned a bit so that I could see his abdomen better,
as well as his recently returned hard-on.
“It’s gorgeous,” I told him. “You’re
gorgeous. And I’ll bet you taste good too.” I bent
down and gave his dick a little kiss. Then I licked it, and took
it into my mouth. “Not too bad,” I said, “But you can do better,
I think.” I resumed giving him his first head, and he responded
with the typical speed of adolescent inexperience and enthusiasm.
It was the start of an excellent Summer.
* * * * * *
“We went out to the lake with our neighbors
Saturday,” he told me the following week, “and I taught Bobby
everything I learned from you. It was way cool!”
“Well, I think you better tell me all about it,” I
said, “so I can see if you did it right. In fact, maybe you’ll
want to show me as well.”
“Well, we’d been out in the boat again -- it’s a
really neat little sailboat, but really small -- and Bobby had loose
gym shorts on instead of a swim suit. I had an old pair of
Speedos on that I used to wear on the Y swim team a a couple years
ago. They’re even tighter than my cutoffs. He was sitting
cross-legged on the bottom of the boat and I was facing him on the
seat. I had to duck under the boom every time we tacked, so I
moved down to the bottom with him. Now, like I said, it’s a
little boat, and there really isn’t enough room for two passengers, so
we were pretty squeezed in. We ended up pretty much
crotch-to-crotch, with our legs around each other’s bodies so we both
fit. He was giving me a great view, and I was doing the
same. He’s got really impressive equipment for a 14-year
old. His balls are bigger than mine, and his dick is already
about five inches soft. When it wasn’t hard, it dangled out his
leg hole, and when it was hard, it poked up at about a 45 degree
angle. We got splashed a lot, and his shorts were pretty
well molded to his various contours, and of course Speedos show
everything, especially when they’re too small. I got hard right
after I got down in his lap, and so did he and we both knew the other
knew. We’d get splashed, and our dicks would go soft, and then
we’d get hard again, it was great to watch. But with his dad
there sailing the boat, there was nothing we could do except look.”
“So when we got back, we headed into Bobby’s bedroom
to change. ‘That was fun in the boat,’ he said to me as he pulled
his wet shorts off. ‘Yeah,’ I told him, ‘but I can show you
something even better.’ We were standing naked face to face,
drying off. His shoulders are just starting to broaden and he doesn’t
have any body hair yet. We were both still half hard. I
touched his chest and ran my fingers down to his crotch. “You’re
cute,” I told him, “and so is this.” I took his dick in my hand
and told him, ‘Touching is more fun than looking,’ Then I
squeezed it a little. He got fully hard in about five seconds,
and so did I. I took his hand and put in on my dick, and he
squeezed a little too. We started to sort of jack each other off,
kind of experimenting. I was checking out his ass with my other
hand, and he started touching my chest. We both were getting
seriously turned on, and I knew we might get caught if we didn’t get
out of the bedroom soon. ‘Not here,’ I told him. ‘They’ll
wonder what’s taking us so long. Put on your shorts, and we’ll go
somewhere.’ “
“We put on baggy shorts and tees that covered our
hardons, and went down to this old boathouse. There was a
ladder up to the second floor, where there was some old furniture
covered with sheets. We climbed up and pulled the ladder behind
us. Bobby took the sheet off an old fashioned daybed, and then I
took his shorts and shirt off him. Then he did the same to
me. So we were both naked and still hard, and we just started
touching each other’s body. I told him, I said ‘Sucking is even
better than touching,’ and I pulled him down onto the daybed. I
started kissing and licking my way down his chest and ended up with his
crotch in my face, and mine in his. I started sucking his stiff
prick, and then I felt him take me in his mouth as well. In about
a minute he came in my mouth, a really sudden blast, and that sent me
over the edge too, and I shot into him. Then I turned around and
saw my cum all around his mouth.”
“He looked really surprised, and I said ‘Better than
looking and touching, wouldn’t you say?’ He said ‘What is this
stuff?’ and I said ‘Don’t they teach you anything in school these
days?’ He said that at the Christian charter school all they
teach them is to pray and behave and if they don’t they get
smacked. And his parents won’t even say the word ‘sex’ out loud,
let alone tell him anything.”
“So I told him about orgasms and semen and all that,
and then I asked him if he wanted to do it again, and he did. So
I took some cum from his face and started jacking him off, and he got
hard again, and so did I, and we started licking each other’s chest and
then sucking cock some more, and we both came again. It was
great.”
“I should think so,” I said. “Now you can
demonstrate your new skills and show me how good you’re getting at
being a teacher. Let’s go find my own ‘boathouse.’ ” I took
his hand and led him into my bedroom, and he proceeded to show me
exactly how he’d introduced Bobby to the pleasures possible after
puberty arrives. He was an excellent teacher, indeed.
The End