Date: Sat, 25 Jun 2016 21:58:08 -0500
From: Louis Gorget <louisgorget@gmail.com>
Subject: Teacher's Assistant Part 1

Teacher's Assistant


This story contains sexual themes between two consenting adult men. If this
is not what you're looking for, or if it is against the law in your area to
view such a story, please leave. The characters depicted in this story are
fictional, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is
coincidental. Thanks for reading. Direct any comments, questions or
concerns to Louisgorget@gmail.com



        At the beginning of the school year, each teacher is assigned a TA
to help them out around the classroom. Due to a scheduling error, I was
signed up for an AP English poetry course, which I wholeheartedly did not
want to be in. I stuck it out for a few days, but eventually dropped it and
so I was put into the pool to become a TA. All the spots were filled,
however, which placed me as a general assistant for whoever needed one,
which was an easy enough job. Since I wasn't needed most days, I could just
sit around and doodle for an hour, or catch up on homework. Occasionally, I
would move some heavy things for one of the older teachers, but mostly I
could just sit around and relax, which was a godsend for an 18-year-old,
Senioritis ridden guy like myself, who would much rather goof off for an
hour a day than do actual work.
        Mr. Bockner's usual TA broke both his legs jumping off the bed of a
moving pickup truck (drunk, of course) and was holed up in the hospital for
at least two weeks with talks of surgery. Needless to say, he wasn't going
to be in school for quite some time. He was the history teacher for the
freshmen through seniors, and my personal favorite teacher. As the bell
rang to switch periods to the last hour of the day, I walked down to his
room. His door was ajar, and no students sat at the desks. He didn't have
any classes scheduled for final period so he could finish grading and go
home earlier than the other teachers. I could see him sitting at his desk,
staring down at his laptop, illuminated by the sunlight coming through his
window. He wore a pale blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his
dark tie loosened a bit. If memory served, he had turned 40 at the end of
last year, and it showed in his black hair, which was specked with a wily
grey strand every now and again, and in his beard (when he grew it out at
least) which was touched with grey around the corners of his mouth. He
usually shaved, and right now his face was stubble, somewhere between 5
o'clock shadow and an actual beard. I knocked on the doorframe, catching
his attention, he looked up while leaning back in his chair, scratched his
stomach, and motioned for me to come in.
        "Hey, buddy" he said in his gruff baritone voice "I've got some
papers here I need you to grade, if you don't mind"
        "Of course not" I replied "That's what I'm here for." He handed me
a stack of worksheets and an answer key, and I sat down at one of the
desks. They were from the Sophomore class, who were infamous for their low
grades and bad handwriting. It took me a bit to decipher some of the
scribbles, but I got the hang of it in no time. I graded while he kept
typing away, taking a drink of his coffee every now and again.
        Twenty or so minutes passed, working silently with only the
tik-tak-sip of Mr. Bockner's working and the scrawling of my red pen to be
heard. I only had a small handful of papers left, but my hand was cramping
fast and I was losing hope for the underclassmen even faster. I sighed, and
stretched in the desk, cracking my back against the low seat. Turning to
Mr. Bockner, I said
        "I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." He looked up,
muttered a quick OK, and then looked back down at his computer. He was
lucky, his room was positioned right next to the bathrooms, and so it was
by no means a long walk out the door and to my destination. The door
squeaked as I entered the blue-tiled lavatory, the harsh smell of cleaner
and lingering urine that seemed characteristic of men's rooms hitting my
nose. This was my favorite bathroom in the school, mostly because it had
two urinals, right next to each other, with no partitions in between. This
meant it was really easy to catch a glimpse of cock if you were sneaky
enough. I pulled up to the one on the right, the polished white porcelain
set into the floor. I unzipped, and heard the door squeak again.
        "Ugh, that coffee really gets to me" came Mr. Bockner's gravelly
voice "As soon as you mentioned the bathroom, I realized how many cups I
had!" I could feel my heart quicken as he came to the urinal next to
mine. Standing at six feet, he was a few inches shorter than me, and,
though he was probably trim in his youth, Mr. Bockner's physique was now
more of a dad-bod than anything else. I was prone to getting gun shy, so I
was thankful I had started my stream before he had entered. He never obeyed
the fundamental rules of the urinal etiquette (but really, who was I to
talk), and so started some small talk with his eyes planted firmly
downward. He asked me generic questions about how my other classes were
going, which colleges I had applied to, etcetera etcetera, and my answers
were as sparsely worded as possible accompanied by nervous laughter. I took
my chance, and my eyes ventured sideways. I was careful not to move my
head, as it might give me away. No luck. He was angled just right, or his
hand was placed weird, and so I couldn't see anything. I tried a couple
more times, but to no avail. I finished, shook off, and left the
bathroom. I was already back to grading papers by the time he returned. I
finished them in no time, and put them in a neat pile next to his printer
as per his direction.
        "Thanks, buddy" he said, drawing out the first word. He picked up
the papers, looked them over, the asked "If it's not too much trouble,
could you help me out with this thank you card?" I agreed, and he told me
that he just needed a simple, neat card to give to some presenters that
came in for one of his classes with some revolutionary war items. I could
really ham up my handwriting if I had the time, and so I set out to slowly
form each letter to calligraphic perfection. Mr. Bockner started up more
small talk.
        "So, do ya have a girl you're sweet on?"
        "Nah, not really" I said with an exhale
        "What about that Susan girl? She's always hanging around you" he
suggested, his tone heavy with implication
        "She's not really my type. Besides, she's really desperate."
        "Ah, I see." He said, clicking his tongue "you're batting for a
different team." I immediately blushed, and tried stammering out a
reply. "No, it's okay, don't turn red!" he teased, laughing a bit "There's
nothing wrong with that." It was hard to tell if he was joking or not.
        "I'm not gay" I finally got out, but it was probably the most
unconvincing thing I had ever uttered.
        "Oh, please" he scoffed "Four years, you've been at this school,
and I ain't never seen you with a girlfriend. Besides, I've seen the way
you look at me. Or, should I say, the way you look at certain parts of me."
My ears were positively on fire. I was somewhere between a stammer and a
laugh, and couldn't form words
        "I...wh-ah-don..." nothing was coming out.
        "I get it, you're a teenager with raging hormones, just trying to
find yourself" he smiled, dramatizing his words with a silly voice.
        "Look..." I started, putting down my pen. He held up a hand to stop
me, leaning back in his chair.
        "No need to apologize. To tell you the truth..." his voice lowered,
a smirk painting his face "It's kinda flattering." He pushed out from his
desk, the back of his chair clicking on the chalkboard "It's nice to know
that I still got it at 40." He flexed mock muscles "I mean, I'm sure you've
heard about the woes of married life. My wife doesn't so much as look at me
anymore." he looked off into space, sighing. I figured, if I was this far
in, I might as well go all the way
        "Well, I could help with that, too." I suggested, trying my best to
smile calmly and wink.
        "I'm not so sure that's gonna happen." he chuckled "All I said was
that it was flattering." I cursed myself for going too far. My mind was a
tornado of thoughts. Now he's gonna be weirded out by me. He's gonna tell
my parents, or the principal, or the school board, and I'll be kicked out
and labelled a freak that tried getting it on with his teacher. My face
burned and I started to panic.
        "Although" he said, and my heart nearly exploded. "It has been a
while." I looked at him, and he looked at me with smiling eyes. He swiveled
his chair toward me and spread his legs. I took this as the signal to get
down on my knees in front of him. Looking up into his brown eyes, he nodded
slightly in affirmation. I put my hand on the front of his pants, and he
gently grabbed my wrist. Did I do something wrong? Had I misred the
situation, was he joking about all this?
        "Gotta lock the door first" he said, and stood, quickly turning the
lock on the doorknob and getting seated again. I put my hand back where it
was, like a magnet. My whole body shaking. I didn't really know what to
do. I hadn't thought I would get this far. I just rubbed on the smooth
khaki fabric of his trousers, and he let out a breath. Unsure of myself, I
unbuttoned the top, and brought the zipper down. He raised himself as I
tugged his pants to his ankles. Nervously, he checked the door, and quickly
looked back down to me. He started to unbutton his shirt, his black chest
hair poking out of his wife beater underneath. I rubbed him through his
undies, feeling the contours of his half-chub. I brought my face to the
blue fabric of his boxer-briefs, and whiffed in his scent. He smelled musty
and manly, and I could feel my erection straining at my own pants. He stood
up, and I inched backward to allow him the room. He threw his shirt on his
desk, and hooked a thumb underneath his waistband
        "You having any doubts?" he asked, putting his other hand on the
top of my head
        "Of course not" I said, putting a hand on each of his thick thighs,
tugging down his underwear to his feet. Surrounded by thick black hair,
Mr. Bockner's dick was reaching full mast. He was circumcised, about 6 or
so inches long. The shaft was a bit wrinkled and several shades darker than
his pale inner thighs. His sack was recently shaved, the hair just growing
back prickly and short. I took a minute to just look at it: I finally had
in front of my face what I had wanted there for at least three years now. I
gently ran my fingers from the head down to his salt-and-pepper pubes
before cupping his pink sack. The other hand I wrapped around his member,
stroking it up and down a few times until a bead of pre-cum welled to the
tip.
        "Go ahead" he said, his hand on my shoulder. I leaned in, and stuck
the rosy head into my mouth. He let out a groan, and the sound sent a wave
through my own cock. It was warmer than I expected, and I loved the way I
could feel his heartbeat through the subtle pulses of his meatus. I placed
my hand around his ballsack, and tugged lightly. The only things I knew
about blow jobs were from the Cosmo articles in my mom's magazines that I
mastrubated to endlessly when I was 11, before any real porn was to be
had. I reached up, and pressed lightly on his chest, intending for him to
sit back down. He read what I wanted, and descended back into his rolling
chair. I took his shaft as far into my mouth as I could get it, held it
there, and then released. I held his wet cock in front of my face, the
glistening head bobbing up and down. Next, I lapped at his sack a few
times, even though it felt kind of weird to do so. Then again, I was the
one sucking my teacher's cock.
 He was breathing heavier, letting out the occasional moan so I began to
corkscrew my hand up and down his shaft.That seemed to illicit a good
response, because his toes curled in his shoes and he tensed a little each
time. I put just the head in my mouth, and continued with the twisting
motion up and down the shaft. I had no idea what to do with my other hand,
and so I held his balls once more, and awkwardly mulled them in my palm
like dice.
        "H-hey, buddy" he stammered "I'm gonna...ooh, keep that up and I'm
gonna..." I popped his cock out of my mouth, but kept twisting down the
head and to the base with both hands"
        "Go ahead" I whispered, too enamored to speak much. I started
sucking again, and he placed both of his big hands on my shoulders.
        "Oh, fuck" he moaned, and I felt his cock-head swell. I looked up
to watch his face contort, his eyes kept tightly shut and he shuddered in
orgasm. Blasts of cum erupted onto my tongue, filling my mouth with a
bitter-ish, salty flavor, and I instinctively swallowed. I kept him in my
mouth for a little while, before slowly sliding out his softening dick. A
bit of semen drizzled down my chin, and he wiped it off with his thumb,
looking down at me starry-eyed.
        "Wow" he said shortly, his breath coming in great heaves.
        "Wow" I repeated, starting to stand. My jeans were tented, and it
hurt to have that much strain in my pants.
        "Let me return the favor" Mr. Bockner grabbed me by the hips, using
me to stand. He unbuttoned my pants, and let them drop before he shoved me
into his still-warm chair. He pulled my briefs out from under me, securing
his rough hand around the base of my dick, and smiled. I was also average
length, at least I thought so. But, unlike Mr. Bockner, I was uncut. He
waggled my hard cock a couple of times, and rolled my foreskin once or
twice. I was drooling precum like a champ, and the back of his hand already
had a snail trail running down it.
        "You're intact!" he said in mock surprise "You don't see these
around much anymore." We both laughed, a bit less nervous now. I knew I
wouldn't last long as he licked up my shaft, paying special attention to my
frenulum. I wasn't sure if it was my inexperience in the matter, or if
Mr. Bockner had done this before, but he was really good at sucking
dick. It wasn't long before I felt a building sensation, a deep pressure in
my groin much more intense than mastrubation brought about.  I looked down
and saw him looking up at me, gauging his skills. His beautiful brown eyes
pushed me over the edge. An involuntary groan was the only warning I could
give as I came in his mouth, spurting a little onto his cheek, but he
seemed to ignore it while he sucked the last bit out of me and
swallowed. He laughed again, wiping my cum off of his face and onto his
undershirt. I sat in disbelief, staring at his soft penis while he pulled
his trousers back on. He patted me on the top of the head, and I brought my
pants back up and stood in one fluid motion, fumbling to find the fly.
        "We should do this more often. I need a TA for at least the rest of
the week." Chuckling, he patted me on the backside. The bell rang, and I
grabbed my backpack from beside his desk. He hoisted himself up, and drew
me in for a kiss, his tongue prodding at my lips.
        "I'll be late for the bus" I said, pulling away.
        "See you tomorrow" he winked, punctuating with another slap to the
ass. I closed the door as I left, straightening my backpack and joining the
milling crowd of students.


END