Date: Sun, 27 Jul 2014 20:26:05 -0400
From: Evan Williams <classic14rider@gmail.com>
Subject: English Teacher and Markel

English Teacher and Markel

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

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

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

"Okay, now it's time to settle down and get some reading done," said
Mr. Carlton, sweat dripping down his face and a large, dark, wet blotch
slowly spreading across the chest area of his T-shirt.

Markel, Mr. Carlton's thirteen-year-old student, who stayed after school to
work out and be tutored by his teacher, gave the man a rueful look. Running
around the track was the fun part; the boy was not looking forward to the
reading exercises that were to follow.

The school was unusually quiet. Almost everyone left for the
day. Mr. Carlton figured this should make it easier for the boy to
concentrate. They went to the library, where there were large comfortable
chairs and where they were unlikely to be disturbed by anyone who happened
to still be in the building.

As the two of them settled in Mr. Carlton spread out a magazine on the
table for the boy to read. Mr. Carlton sat back in his chair, clad in
cotton sweat pants and a T-shirt, recovering from the physical exertion on
the track field. Markel seemed to be relaxed too, his young, brown body
clad in a light T-shirt and cotton gym trunks seemed right at home in the
library's large comfy chairs. Instead of picking up the magazine, however,
the boy leaned across the armrest of his chair, the trunk of his body
resting in Mr. Carlton's lap, so he could see the pages better.

"Wouldn't it be better for you to just take the magazine to your own chair
to read it?" Mr. Carlton asked, wondering why middle schoolers always
insisted on doing things the hard way.

"I'm cool," the boy answered, without even bothering to look at his
teacher. The boy's firm body pressed against his teacher's lap. The teacher
was about to say something more, but he noticed that the lad really did
seem comfortable. It's rare that a teacher can establish this level of
trust with a student, he told himself, and this might be the kid's only
chance to feel secure around someone else, especially an adult. Better
leave him alone.

As Markel turned the page he shifted his body even further onto his
teacher's lap so that only his sneakers were still in his own chair. He
slowly stretched, catlike, and snuggled up against the man.  Mr. Carlton
cleared his throat and looked nervously around the room, trying to figure
out whether or not he should stop the boy and file a written report to the
principal about this behavior.

The boy looked innocent and oblivious and sighed as he continued to turn
the pages of the magazine.

Mr. Carlton decide to leave the boy alone, so long as he didn't go any
further with his cuddling behavior. What harm could it do, after all, for
the boy to feel comfortable against the warmth of a human body while he was
getting his lessons done?

Slowly, however, Markel pressed even harder against his teacher. The boy
felt firm and warm. Mr. Carlton, not knowing what to do with his arms,
rested one of them across his boy's shoulder, softly embracing him. Markel
let out another sigh as he turned another page of the magazine.

Now the boy was entirely in his teacher's lap; he sat upright and continued
to read. Mr. Carlton felt his dick getting hard underneath the boy's
bottom. He began to feel uncomfortable. What if the boy could feel his
hardening cock? How could he explain to the lad that this was a natural
reaction to having a warm, firm body pressed up against you? The kid would
think Mr. Carlton was some kind of weirdo. He'd think the man was a
freak. He would never be able to trust the man again for taking advantage
of him.

Markel, however, sitting up in the man's lap, slowly moved his butt up and
down against Mr. Carlton's hardening cock, gripping the armrests of the
man's seat for balance. Mr. Carlton began to wonder, was the boy actually
doing this on purpose?

The teacher cleared his throat again. "Ah, I think you better move back to
your own chair young man," he said, patting the boy patronizingly on the
head.

"Why? You don't want me to know you is thirsty?"

Mr. Carlton had overheard enough middle school slang to know that they boy
was referring to being horny.

"I'm not thirsty," the man quickly denied. A mischievous grin spread across
the boy's face as he rubbed his bum against the man's crotch and softly
said under his breath, "Youse a lie."

The boy continued to read the magazine. Mr. Carlton tried not to allow
himself to get further aroused. "Okay, young man. Do whatever you have to
do – just so long as you are reading."

Markel paused and said, "Damn – it's so fuckin' hot in here, Imma have
to take my shirt off."

Mr. Carlton quickly corrected the boy, "Okay, Markel, no cussing in front
of adults, and keep your shirt on."

"My bad. I'm sorry Mr. Carlton," the boy said with mock innocence as he
slipped off his shirt, ignoring the man and revealing his smooth, cinnamon
colored body. A beam from the skylight on the roof of the library hit the
boy's sleek, sweaty back and shoulders, making him glow.

The boy continued his slow, up and down grinding motion in the man's lap,
his armpits coming close to Mr. Carlton's face. The teacher took a deep
breath of the funky, healthy smell of the boy's body. He gave a sigh of
resignation and gave up on the idea of trying to stop Markel from what he
was doing, even though he felt guilty about the fact that he was taking
advantage of the boy.

The boy glanced at the man, from the corner of his eyes, and then reached
down to loosen the drawstring of Mr. Carlton's sweat pants.

The teacher's arm jerked. He was about to stop the boy. Then he rested it
on the boy's bare thigh, unable to bring himself to interrupt a lad in the
process of exploration. The skin on Markel's thigh felt soft and smooth,
even though the muscles on the boy were firm and hard.

The boy tugged at the man's sweat pants and Mr. Carlton lifted his butt off
the cushion allowing his cotton sweat pants to fall below his knees.

Now Mr. Carlton was feeling even more vulnerable. The thirteen year old boy
was now rubbing his cotton-clad butt against his teacher's throbbing cock,
which was barely concealed by his boxer shorts. It wasn't long before the
man's fully erect penis pushed its way through the opening in his shorts,
so that he was fully exposed and rubbing against the boy's ass, leaving
trails of cum snot on the bottom of the boy's trunks.

Mr. Carlton felt guilty as he pictured the boy's mother, whom he met many
times during parent-teacher conferences, seeing him take advantage of her
son like this.

Markel paused again, then he slid his gym trunks and boxer shorts down, so
that they were dangling off of his feet. Now Markel's bare ass was rubbing
against Mr. Carlton's exposed, throbbing cock.

Mr. Carlton pictured himself being hauled in front of the school board and
reporters snapping pictures of this evil child molester who was caught
taking advantage of little children, forcing them to participate in
unspeakable sex acts. He began, once again, to try to stop the boy, but as
he stared at the boy's ashy brown elbows and the masculine way the boy's
triceps flexed as he lifted and lowered himself on the man's aroused cock,
he couldn't bring himself to do it. Was it possible that boy actually felt
safe and knew what he was doing?

Markel cautiously reached underneath his bum and grabbed the man's cock,
slowly stroking the length of it. "Wow, he got a big cock," the boy gasped
to himself.

Mr. Carlton watched the boy as he studied his teacher's cock. The boy
looked like a scientist, carefully making observations and noting his
findings. The boy pressed the man's cock, lengthwise, against the bottom of
his own smaller cock and balls. Markel cautiously eyed his teacher's
reactions to everything he did with him. This was a student who was
learning.

The boy's hand movements became more vigorous. Soon, both boy and man
breathed heavily. Markel let out a quick gasp, followed by a jet of boy-cum
that shot up and arched through the air before splattering all over the
pages of the magazine.

Mr. Carlton was not long in following him, with a big burst of man-cum that
splattered all over the boy's smooth brown thighs and legs.

Markel stared at his cum-covered thighs and the red tip of the older man's
throbbing cock, from which the blast of semen just fired, and gasped, "That
shyt's tight. We need to do it again."

Mr. Carlton, patted the boy on his shoulder, "Maybe some other time,
sport. I'm an old man. I've only got one good shot in me a day. Besides, we
really shouldn't be doing this kind of thing."

Markel's face darkened. He frowned. The teacher did not want to disappoint
the boy, but he had let the boy know that what they were doing was
improper. Besides, the teacher had reached the limits of his ability to
perform.

Mr. Carlton lifted the boy by his armpits and lowered him onto the floor,
on his feet. The boy twisted his cum-stained body so that he was
half-facing his teacher. A look of anxiety covered his smooth, brown face,
"You ain't gonna get me in trouble for this, is you?"

"Of course not," Mr. Carlton said, a bit surprised, and relieved, that the
boy hadn't even thought of the possibility of turning his question the
other way around.

He put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "Now that you've proven you're a
man, let's see you tackle this reading assignment. I'll get a fresh
magazine for you to work on."

The boy beamed with pride at having been acknowledged as a man. Cum dripped
from the boy's cock and down his smooth brown legs as proof that what the
teacher said was true. Mr. Carlton and the boy went to the restroom to
clean themselves off.

The teacher tried to wipe the boy down with warm paper towels, but the lad
gave him an annoyed look and pulled away,

 "What chu doin'? I ain't no baby. I can clean my own self off."

The teacher smirked with amusement. The boy couldn't imagine any other
motive for his teacher to want to caress the boy's brown, naked body with
warm, moist paper towels other than that his teacher thought the boy
couldn't do the job well enough on his own.

Mr. Carlton stood back and savored the sight of his young student taking
control of his lessons as he learned about manhood.