Date: Thu, 10 Jul 2014 14:09:36 -0400
From: Evan Williams <classic14rider@gmail.com>
Subject: The English Teacher and Jamal

English Teacher and Jamal

*********************

The following is a work of erotic fiction for entertainment purposes
only. It contains racial references that some might find offensive. If you
might be offended, or are underage, or are potentially unduly influenced by
such eroticism, please search for another form of entertainment.

*********************

"Mr. Allen, if I were in your shoes I wouldn't be wasting my time watching
music videos," Mr. Carlton said, glaring at Jamal, "I would be completing
my assignments so I could bring my grade up."

Mr. Carlton always called his students by their last name, such as
"Mr. Allen", when he was chastising them. He had to chastise them often. It
was only when a student was doing what he was supposed to be doing that
Mr. Carlton could relax enough to call the student by his first name.

This was the last day of class and Mr. Carlton had been going over all of
his student's grades on his computer. Jamal Allen, a stalky dark-skinned
Black kid, in the 11th grade, was on his way to finishing Mr. Carlton's
English class with a "D", even though he knew the boy was capable of doing
much better.

Jamal turned in half-completed assignments. He spent too much of class time
goofing off, talking with the other kids and watching music videos. When
Jamal managed to complete his work it was reasonably good – but the 11th
grader simply did not allow himself to remain focused on a task for very
long.

Many times Mr. Carlton caught himself checking out the teenaged boys in his
school, especially in the spring, when the boys wore less clothing. The
bundle of sweaters and heavy pants, to keep warm in the winter, now gave
way to T-shirts and a single layer of jeans.

In Jamal's case, it meant one could see more of the boy's
physique. Mr. Carlton noticed that, unlike most of the rest of the boys in
his class, Jamal tended to wear tighter clothing. If other boys had tried
to wear clothing that fit as tightly as Jamal's clothes did, they would
look effeminate and would have been the butt of endless "gay" jokes.

For some reason Jamal could pull it off. His stalky football-player build
was clearly on display as he walked around the school. Mr. Carlton found
himself glancing at the boy's tight thighs and the outline of his thick
cock, which was clearly visible, at least to the teacher.

But Mr. Carlton felt he wasn't usually sexually aroused by the boy. The
stalky football-player physique on a boy really wasn't Mr. Carlton's
type. He thought he preferred the leaner, more agile, brown-skinned boys
with soft curly hair that the girls in the school admired as being "good
hair".

Still, as a profile in sexuality, Jamal often caught his teacher's
eye. Mr. Carlton wasn't quite sure why.

Now it was the last day of school. In response to Mr. Carlton's
admonishment about getting his work done, Jamal turned up the volume of the
video, pressed his earbuds deeper inside his ears, and rapped loudly to the
hip hop video playing on his screen.

"Okay, suit yourself," his teacher sighed as he moved on to help other
kids. A girl who was sitting beside the boy giggled, impressed by Jamal's
blatant display of defiance, and said, "That's so disrespectful. You should
be ashamed of yourself." Jamal soaked up the girl's attention.

Mr. Carlton watched the clock and continued to make his rounds in the
classroom. As the period was about to come to a close he noticed that the
stalky black student was lumbering toward him. What did Jamal want now?
Wasn't it enough that he had disrespected his teacher, in front of
everyone, on the last day of class? Wasn't it enough that Jamal was only
hurting himself? Was this black boy now about to humiliate Mr. Carlton even
more, during the final minutes of the semester?

The teacher gazed at his student. The outline of the boy's body continued
to captivate him. Whatever else could be said about the boy, Mr. Carlton
could see why girls thought the boy was sexy.

Mr. Carlton braced himself for the encounter. He expected the boy to say
something crude, to challenge him or flip him the bird. Maybe Jamal would
bump into the teacher, trying to knock him over, in order to add to man's
humiliation in front of the class. What happened next took Mr. Carlton
completely by surprise.

The teenager walked up to the man and opened his arms wide for an
embrace. Before the teacher knew what he was doing he fell into the boy's
arms. Jamal enveloped his teacher with his body, holding the man snugly. It
was not a "bro hug", it was more like a full frontal embrace; the kind a
man would give to a woman. Mr. Carlton, aware that his students were
watching, tried to pull away at first, but being in Jamal's arms felt
comforting, reassuring and therapeutic. He didn't want to let go of the
boy. Mr. Carlton melted into the stalky boy's body as he returned the boy's
embrace.

He breathed in Jamal's raw, teenage masculine smell. He felt himself to be
intimate and aroused by the boy. Mr. Carlton was confused by his arousal.

Jamal leaned toward his teacher's ear and said in a low and reassuring
voice, "Mr. C, I just want you to know that, at the end of the day, it's
all cool between you and me." These were words Mr. Carlton needed to hear
although he didn't quite know why. He wanted things to be "cool" with the
boy.

An unexpected and irrepressible thought washed over the older man, "I'm in
love with this boy." He felt like a bubbly teenaged girl who had just
fallen, hard, for the captain of the football team.

Mr. Carlton felt his blood pumping through his whole body. He held Jamal
tightly and didn't let go, even though students were watching to see what
was going on. Mr. Carlton was surprised by his reaction to the obvious
sensuality of the boy's firm, stalky body. He had seen Jamal many times,
but he had not quite thought about the boy in fully sexual terms
before. Now, he was head-over-heels for the boy.

Mr. Carlton, still clinging to his surprisingly manly student, began to
imagine what it would be like to be in bed with the boy.

He imagined what it would be like to be lying under Jamal, as his student
thrust his thick black cock deep inside of Mr. Carlton's pussy, making the
man his bitch. Mr. Carlton shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe
he was thinking about himself in this way. For the first time in his life,
Mr. Carlton actually wanted to be another male's bitch. In the past he had
been aroused by other men, but only in the sense of seeing them as his
masculine counter-parts; as bros who "fool around", man-to-man. This time
he saw himself as being Jamal's woman and he was surprisingly comfortable
with the thought. In fact, he enjoyed it.

The embrace between the two continued. In his mind, Mr. Carlton was
surrendering himself, he was letting go of everything that was inside of
him and giving it to the boy. He wanted the boy to take him.

Although the other students were watching, Jamal didn't seem to be in any
rush to end the embrace. As he remembered there were still other students
in the room Mr. Carlton began to feel uncomfortable. He knew he'd better
break the embrace before someone said something. Damn. Why couldn't Jamal
have done this when nobody else was around?

Mr. Carlton stepped back, looking sheepishly at the boy who had now won him
over completely. "It's okay Jamal. I-it's cool between us," he said, like a
flustered teenaged girl who had just met her first heartthrob.

The bell rang and all of the students rushed out of the room. Mr. Carlton
watched Jamal, with his newly-discovered passion for the boy, as he
strutted out with the rest of the students. His pants and shirt still tight
and the outlines of his firm body bulging through his clothes. Mr. Carlton
allowed himself to deliberately check out the bulge in the boy's
pants. There was no doubt about it, the teenager was well-endowed. Merely
from hugging the boy, and seeing the outline of his body, he knew that the
boy must be great in bed.

As he last student left the class room Mr. Carlton sank into his leather
chair and looked up Jamal's grades on his computer. He brushed aside all
the thoughts about "fairness" and "objectivity" that had been drummed into
his brain and said to himself, "I can't let my man get a low grade in this
course."

He went through all of Jamal's grades, changing every "F" to a "D", every
"D" to a "C", every "C" to a "B", and every "B" to an "A". When he had
finished the task he hit "calculate". He watched as Jamal's grade was
magically transformed from a "D" to a "B".

That was more like it, the teacher thought.

He leaned back in his chair and stared out of his window, still surprised
by his reaction to the boy, and got lost in a daydream.