Date: Sat, 5 Dec 2015 21:34:05 -0800
From: deacon mushrat <dmushrat@gmail.com>
Subject: A Passing Grade chapter 6

These stories are fantasy, no more.  The characters and events are
fictional and any resemblance to real people is entirely unintended. The
following story contains sexual situations. If this is illegal in your
area, you are underage or you find it objectionable, do not read any
farther.  This story is brought to you by the generosity of Nifty.  Without
Nifty, no stories, no fun.  Keep this site alive by donating:
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The backstory: Scott Barnes teaches English in middle School.  Trevor
Sanders is a student of his who is exchanging sex for grades.  For the rest
of the backstory, read the previous chapters.

A Passing Grade, chapter 6

	Scott woke up Jesse and Neal, gave them the second card key and
left them to download the previous night's vids and photos onto his laptop
to make room for the day's journalism assignments.  Jesse had been smart
enough to make sure all the cell phones had been plugged in to recharge
before getting into bed the night before.

	Scott told them to meet him at breakfast and went down to the Sea
Shell room, where he was immediately accosted by a frazzled Martin Simpson:
"Scott, I'm missing one of my staff, Jesse Horton, the boy I told you
about.  His roommates don't know where he is.  He wasn't in all night."

	"His roommates don't know where he is, eh?  Did they tell you they
kicked him out?"

	"Kicked him out?  No, they did not.  Why'd they do that?"

	"Don't know.  But last night after bed check I ran into him and
another boy in the hall.  They had both been locked out by their roommates,
so I let them spend the night in my room."

	"God damn it!  Pardon my French, but I'm going to give those boys a
talking to.  You've been teaching longer than me; what would you do?
Should I take them all home right now?"

	"Longer than I."

	"What?"

	"Longer than I.  Don't forget I'm an English teacher. You said,
`You've been teaching longer than me.'"

	"Oh.  Sorry."

	"No worries.  I wouldn't take them home.  But I would ask the
roommates why they kicked him out, and when you see Jesse, ask him too.
Don't give anyone a talking to until you find out more."

	"Good point.

	"When you find out, don't do anything right away.  Check in with me
and I'll help you with the next step."

	"You got it."

	When the boys came down, Scott sent Jesse over to talk to Martin,
and he said to Neal: "Dude, what about your advisor? Where's he? You've got
to explain things to him."

	Neal laughed: "My advisor? Mr. Watson is an old fart who drinks all
day and doesn't give a shit about anyone or anything.  He stinks and his
breath would kill cockroaches. He's supposed to retire next year, if he
lasts that long.  He can't even tell you who's on our team.  As long as my
roommates don't say anything, and they won't, he won't know anything."

	Scott said, "I know the syndrome.  Tough to be a student of his."

	"Only if you want to learn something."

	"Sorry.  But you seem to be doing fine. You're a smart kid.  You've
learned a lot."

	"Thanks. All on my own."

	"Okay, have a healthy breakfast, lots of fruit, and enjoy your
day. You can always use me as a substitute advisor if you need." And Scott
went off to take attendance of his advisees as promised.

	At lunch, Martin and Scott sat down together.  Martin started:
"Well, it looks as though Jesse has been taking dirty pictures with that
other boy and that's what happened.  That's perverse."

	"Not so dirty or perverse.  They were having middle school fun the
way boys always have had.  Weren't you a middle schooler once?"

	"Not like that.  My parents were strict.  I didn't even date in
high school."

	"Ouch. Then college must have been out of control for you, a real
explosion."

	"Not that either.  A Christian college.  Not that I'm really a
Christian or anything.  Just graduated last year but the religion didn't
stick."

	"So you've never tried anything with another guy?  Not even
wondered about it?"

	Martin stammered a bit: "No.  Well, not really."

	"So Martin, boys this age are just discovering sex, and there's a
lot to discover.  It sounds as though you have a bit of catching up to do
before you can understand them."

	"So what should I do about Jesse and his roommates?"

	"Ask Jesse.  He's a pretty smart boy.  Uh, there's the call for the
afternoon sessions.  Want to meet in the bar afterwards?  After you talk to
Jesse?"

	"Can do."

	That afternoon Scott went down to the bar and noticed, in the
farthest corner, an older man sagging into the cushions nursing a whiskey,
obviously not his first: most likely the old fart Watson.  At a closer
table, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, sat Martin; Scott noticed again that
he really was a good looking guy.  He ordered a couple of rum and cokes and
they nursed them for a while and talked about the convention.  Halfway
through the second round, Martin paused, stammered a bit, and said, "Well,
I talked to Jesse, like you suggested..."

	"...as you suggested..."

	"...as you suggested, and he told me to get some experience.  He
said you could help."

	"Jesse said that?  He's a troublemaker. How much sex have you had?"

	Martin stammered some more: "Scott, I've never `been with' anyone."

	"That's bad." Scott ordered a third round.  "Here's what I suggest.
I can show you some of those pictures of Neal and Jesse that you call
dirty, and you can see for yourself how undirty they are. These are boys
having fun, and sex is just one of the ways that people have fun. Use them
like a sex manual." He picked up his drink and started towards the
elevators.

	Martin followed him, and there was an awkward silence as the
elevators took them up.  Scott led the way into his room and woke up the
computer.  They arranged a second chair in front, and Scott found the
folder: "Now Martin, this is all new to you, so take it slow.  These boys
are pros, and you're not even an amateur yet.  You sure you're ready for
this?"

	Martin, in a high state of agitation, almost snarled: "Jesus,
Scott--pardon my French--but I'm twenty-three years old and I've thought
and wondered and hoped for and wanted something like this all my fucking
life. This is my chance! Get on with it!"

	Scott couldn't believe his luck. He had reluctantly agreed to the
field trip, and on the first night two hot, nearly nude middle school boys
had pushed their way into his room and spent the next two hours throwing
their naked little bodies at each other and at him.  Tonight a hot, totally
inexperienced, eager young man was begging for sex, and Scott was about to
show him videos that would fulfill anybody's fantasies and probably give
Martin some he didn't know how to dream up yet.  Scott had fallen into a
gold mine, and his philosophy was to dig until the shovel is blunted.

	 He laughed and said, "Fasten your seat belt, Martin. It's a wild
ride," and opened the first file; the screen filled with the two naked boys
in full sixty-nine action, and Martin moaned.  He watched for ten seconds
and then couldn't stand still.  He stood up, he grabbed his crotch, he
moaned again, he sat down, he swore, he stood up and undid his belt,
fumbled the top button of his pants, grabbed Scott's arm, let it go, sat
down again but missed the chair and crashed to the floor.

	Scott laughed and helped him up: "Dude, you're freakin'. Take it
easy." Martin hugged Scott and groped his butt cheeks as he looked over
Scott's shoulder at the computer, whimpering.  Scott worked his hands
inside Martin's pants and grabbed his cheeks, then pushed Martin's pants
down and worked his hands around to the front of his boxers.

	Martin was well hung and hard as a rock; he was clinging so
fiercely to Scott that Scott had difficulty pushing him away enough to work
his cock.  He was moaning as he watched the video and giving little cries:
"Oh my god...sweet Jesus..holy shit..."

	Scott undid enough of Martin's shirt to pull it over his head.
Then his undershirt ("An undershirt? Where's this guy from?"). Then Scott
knelt in front of him and took that well hung dick in his mouth and worked
his tongue a bit.  With Martin moaning, Scott stood up and walked him back
to the bed, and where they both fell with Scott on top.  They did a bump
and grind for a few minutes, then Scott stood up: "Undress me." He laughed
and said, in a nod to Randy Newman, "You can leave my socks on,".

	"Oh god, yes." Martin's hands trembled as he got Scott's pants
down, then his shirt off; he almost couldn't undo the buttons.  He sat on
the bed massaging Scott's dick in one hand and his balls in another, and
closed his eyes in pleasure.  Scott said, "Suck me off."

	"What?"

	"Open your mouth and put my cock in it."

	"Oh god, yes. Tell me what to do."

	"You'll figure it out. Do what I did. Use your tongue a lot."  And
he did, a little roughly at first, but he was a quick learner.  Before
Scott came, however, he pulled out and went to the computer: "Lesson two is
a little trickier: watch this."  He pulled up a vid of Jesse fucking Neal
doggie style, Scott's fave, and said, "Okay, let's get the lotion." Martin
couldn't tear himself away from the video.

	The bathroom had been restocked that morning; Scott got the hand
cream and told Martin, "Now you're my student, Martin.  Get on your knees
beside the bed, put your elbows on the bed, and pray for a good grade."

	"Yes sir, Mr. Barnes, sir." He knelt and clasped his hands in
prayer: "Please give me a good grade, sir. I need a passing grade."

	"If you do your homework, you'll do better than pass." Scott got
the laptop and put it in front of Martin on the bed: Jesse was still
working Neal. "Martin, learning can hurt, and this is your first time, so
it'll hurt.  But the second and third time it'll hurt less, and then pretty
soon you'll never want anything else." He slowly inserted his dick in
Martin and even more slowly pushed it further and further in. "How's the
lesson going so far?  Does this hurt too much?  Want to stop? Shall I go
on?"

	"Oh god, I don't know. Yes. No. Yes."

	"Yes what?"

	"Oh god.  Yes sir.  Yes sir."

	Scott had to laugh: "No, I mean, Yes, does it hurt too much?  Shall
I stop or not?"

	"Not yet. Ooh. Maybe.  No, not yet."

	Scott looked over Martin's shoulders at the computer and started
thrusting in sync with Jesse's bouncing bubble butt; it was cool to be
working with him as a team. He lay down fully on Martin's back and wrapped
his hands around his dick.  When he felt his own climax coming, he put his
hands on Martin's shoulder and pulled, cumming with a final thrust.

	Then, still in but with a softening dick, he reached around again
and started jacking Martin off with his right hand as he cradled his balls
with his left; Martin gasped in pleasure.  After jacking for a while, he
felt Martin start to tense as he got close, so his left hand squeezed the
tip just as Martin started cumming.  Martin squirted more than Scott could
hold; it shot into his hand and down onto the the bed and the floor. Martin
relaxed.

	At this crucial moment, they heard the door open behind them, a
pause, and then two joyful shouts: "Awesommmmme!"

	The boys ran around and knelt on the other side of the bed to face
Martin and Scott, who quickly disengaged and were both kneeling side by
side at the edge of the bed; Martin's face was a deep shade of red.  "Yo,
Mr. Simpson, sir.  What's new, if I may ask?" Jesse said, with a broad
smile on his face; he couldn't help teasing. He took a look at Martin's
dangle: "Wow, you're hung!"

	Martin was caught between being embarrassed and proud; he was now
member of a club that he had only looked in on from the outside until now,
but it was not something he was comfortable sharing with his student. Yet.

	Jesse kneeling on the bed and Martin kneeling on the floor were a
perfect fit.  Jesse dropped his pants, put his hands in Martin's hair and
pulled him close.  Martin sucked in Jesse's still-hardening dick like a
vacuum cleaner and squeezed his tight little butt with both hands.  Neal
followed suit with Scott, and the room grew quiet.  School was in session
and night classes had begun.