Date: Sun, 26 Sep 2010 05:06:21 +0200
From: Michael West <michaeljwest@gmx.com>
Subject: Learning Curve: Part 1

All of the usual disclaimers apply to this story. This is a work of
fiction, it portrays consensual sexual acts between a man, a teenage boy
and a preteen boy. If this is not to your taste or illegal for you to read,
please stop here. Feel free to send me an email with your comments!
michaeljwest@gmx.com

==========================

LEARNING CURVE: Chapter 1

It all started when my science teacher caught me fucking a first former's
face in the storecupboard. Michael Barrington, that was his name, but he
was universally known as Mickey. He had been sucking my cock on and off for
about two months now, since the beginning of term. He was a skinny twelve
year old, with red hair and a gob on him like a hoover. I was in the fifth
form at the time, sixteen years old, always horny and still a virgin. I
discovered young Mickey on his knees in the bogs sucking off one of his
classmates. His little friend ran off when I walked in, but Mickey stayed
on his knees in the middle of the toilets, his hand busy on his hairless
little cock. He gave me his trademark silly grin and licked his lips. I
felt my own prick getting hard in my underpants.

"Want me to suck your cock as well, Jones?" he said.

"What? Why would you want to do that?" I asked, puzzled. In comparison to
this twelve year old cocksucker, I was incredibly naive.

"Because you're hot. And it looks like you've got a big cock in there."

I didn't think I was especially hot, girls never took any notice of me. I
was on the first XV, and had a rugby player's build: I wasn't tall, but I
was broad and stocky, with thick dark hair that tended to stick up like a
brush if it got too long. Even back in the early 70s, girls preferred
football players, with their lithe, lanky bodies and stylishly long
hair. But he was right on one thing: I did have a big cock. So I didn't
reply, I just unzipped my trousers, pulled my stiff prick out of my
y-fronts and started fucking his face. I came in record time.

Since then, we've tried to get together as often as we could so Mickey
could get his fix of my thick cock. At my insistence, though, we used
places that were a bit more discreet than the middle of the boys' toilets
for our liaisons. I had found a little-used store-cupboard in the science
block that seemed ideal. We'd used it four or five times already, and
nobody had discovered us yet. I thought we were safe. So imagine my horror
when Mr Dixon walked in on us. I had always liked Mr Dixon: he took me for
science and always seemed really nice. He was in his fifties, about six
feet tall and with greying hair and a moustache. A little bit of a paunch,
but he wasn't fat, and he always seemed to be smiling.

He wasn't smiling now. He froze and stared at us: both of us with our grey
school trousers around our ankles, my prick sticking out of the fly of my
y-fronts and still connected to Mickey's mouth by a thin string of
pre-come. Immediately, I tried to stuff my cock back inside my underpants
and pull my trousers up at the same time, which wasn't successful. Mickey
just sat back on his haunches and grinned that silly grin of his.

"What the hell do you boys think you are doing?" Mr Dixon said quietly.

I stammered incoherently, panicking. Mickey continued to grin stupidly. Mr
Dixon glared at me and told me to shut up. Then he came fully into the tiny
room and locked the door behind him. He looked straight at Mickey.

"I asked you a question. What do you think you are doing?" he said.

"Nothing, sir!" I said, shakily.

"Shut up, Jones, I wasn't talking to you. Barrington, you heard me. What
were you doing?" He glared at Mickey who, after some consideration,
replied:

"Giving Jones a blowjob, sir!"

"Oh, is that what it was supposed to be? Clearly nobody's ever shown you
how to do it properly." He sighed. And then nudged Mickey out of the way
and squatted down in front of me.

"Barrington, I want you to observe closely. Jones, get your John Thomas
back out again." I stared at him in shock, frozen with my trousers halfway
up my thighs, my prick rapidly deflating. "Well, come on boy, we haven't
got all day. Get it out," he repeated. I goggled at him, unable to move. So
Mr Dixon reached out and pulled my prick out of my y-fronts. The shock had
made it go soft, but it was still a little chubby from its recent visit to
Mickey's mouth. Mr Dixon gently milked my foreskin back and forth.

"We'll soon get this back in working order, young man," he said, and bent
his head. He nuzzled my balls through the cotton of my underpants, gently
wanking my prick. Then he started licking them with firm, broad strokes of
his tongue until the pouch of my y-fronts was thoroughly damp with his spit
and my prick as hard as rock. He grasped it near the root and sat back to
admire all seven and a half inches of it, shifting it this way and that,
tracing the throbbing vein on the underside with his fingertip and gently
circling my foreskin-covered head with his thumb.

"Mmm. I can see why the other boys call you 'three-legs', lad," he said
before leaning forwards again. Slowly, so slowly, he stuck out the tip of
his tongue and flicked it over the tip of my foreskin. I groaned, my prick
throbbing and oozing pre-come. He gently pulled my foreskin back and ran
his tongue over my exposed helmet, making me shudder.

"Sensitive, are we?" he smirked. He took the whole of my helmet into his
mouth and started to suckle on it, flicking his tongue over the tip. With
his free hand he reached up and cradled my balls through the still-damp
fabric of my underpants. I glanced over at Mickey and saw him staring
intently at my prick, his fist busily working in his y-fronts on his own
little prick. Mr Dixon pulled off my cock and rubbed the head over his
lips, leaving a trail of my slime gleaming in his moustache. He jerked my
prick for a few strokes and dived back on, taking half of my length into
his mouth. My eyes rolled up into the back of my head and I moaned
loudly. Mr Dixon's hands ran up my thighs and round under my shirt-tails to
cup my buttocks. Slowly, he pulled me forward until all of my prick was in
his mouth, my balls resting on his chin. I could feel the head of my prick
at the back of his mouth, his throat tightening and loosening around
it. Grasping the fabric of my underpants, he pulled me out of his mouth and
then pushed me back in. I got the message and started humping his face,
moaning as I fucked in and out of his mouth.

I looked at Mickey. He was kneeling right next to me, his eyes glued to my
prick pistoning in and out of Mr Dixon's mouth. He had one hand down the
front of his y-fronts, still playing with his dick. The other hand was down
the back of his underpants. I couldn't quite make out what he was doing
back there until I saw him take out his hand, stick a finger in his mouth
and then return it to his arse: he was fingering his own bum-hole! I had
heard about bumming from the other lads in my form, but I'd never thought
that someone would want to do it to themself.

I gasped and felt my balls tightening. I was about to come, about to shoot
my load down my science teacher's throat. My hands tightened on the back of
his head in anticipation, but suddenly he pulled free of my grasp and let
my prick fall from his mouth. With a curt "not yet, my lad," he reached out
and flicked the end of my prick. Hard. Doubling up, I made a strange
squawking noise and my prick rapidly deflated. Mr Dixon turned to Mickey
and, surprisingly, answered the twelve year old's silly grin with one of
his own.

"So, boy, do you think you can do it properly now?" he asked.

"Yes sir! Definitely!" Mickey turned and looked hungrily at my now-flaccid
dick, licking his lips in anticipation. I felt a bit of hope rising within
me: maybe I was going to get to come in somebody's mouth after all! Mr
Dixon, however, had other ideas. He stood up, taking off his blazer and
loosening his tie.

"Very well, Barrington. Practice makes perfect, as they say. So I'd like
you to practice on me first, so I can correct any errors you happen to
make." He gestured at the bulge in his trousers, and Mickey went and
kneeled in front of him, licking his lips again. I suppose from his point
of view, a cock was a cock, and any one would do.

My red-headed little cocksucker reached up and unbuckled Mr Dixon's
belt. He undid the button on his trousers and pulled down the zip, letting
the teacher's slacks fall to his ankles. Mr Dixon pulled his white shirt up
out of the way, revealing the tent in his green-striped boxer shorts. The
fabric of his shorts was wet and slimy around the tip of his cock, and the
fly gaped open, showing half of the teacher's shaft. Mickey reached in and
pulled out Mr Dixon's stiff prick and his balls. I leaned down for a closer
look: he had a big cock, and a pair of fat egg-sized balls covered in wiry
greying hair. Big as it was though, it wasn't as big as my own, and it was
certainly a lot thinner. I grinned smugly.

Slowly, reverently, Mickey grasped Mr Dixon's prick in his hand started
stroking up and down. Mimicking the actions he'd learnt only ten minutes
ago, he bought out his little tongue and started licking the teacher's
hairy ball sack, swirling his tongue around the fat bollocks. Once he'd got
them good and wet, he bought Mr Dixon's prick down to his face and started
licking around the man's engorged helmet, making Mr Dixon grunt. I looked
up at him.

"Sensitive are we, sir?" I said, cheekily.

"Nobody asked for your opinion, Jones," he said, in exactly the same tone
he used in the classroom when he suspected one of the boys of being
'clever'. "Now, get your hands around young Barrington's dick and give him
a good wanking," he added with obvious relish.

I hesitated. I'd never touched another boy's prick before, let alone one
belonging to a twelve year old that I'd been facefucking on a regular
basis. I wasn't a queer, and touching someone else's prick was queer.

"Jones..." Mr Dixon said warningly. So, as little Mickey took more and more
of Mr Dixon's prick into his little mouth, I reached down the front of his
y-fronts and grasped his stiff little prick. His little bollocks were held
tight against his body in his hairless little scrotum, and there was
nothing but baby-smooth skin above his shaft. I grasped his skinny three
inches between my thumb and forefinger and gingerly started tugging him off
inside his underpants. He squirmed a little, and moaned loudly around Mr
Dixon's stiff prick.

"Good lad," he murmured, running his fingers through Mickey's bright red
hair. He had managed to get about two thirds of his six inch length inside
the young boy's mouth. He started to hump Mickey's mouth gently, tiny
little movements that set his great pendulous balls swinging back and
forth. Mine didn't do that, I reflected. My own bollocks were still held
tight in my ballsack. Mr Dixon's movements got faster and slowly he managed
to work more of his prick down little Mickey's throat. I could see the lad
was beginning to struggle with Mr Dixon's length, a string of drool mixed
with pre-come was hanging from the side of his mouth. But he kept at it,
and showed every sign of loving it. The little cock twitching in my hand
certainly suggested that he was.

I found my own prick starting to get hard again, and I reached down with my
free hand and started gently stroking it through the cotton of my damp
y-fronts. My eyes fixed on Mr Dixon's swinging balls, I started rolling my
own around in the pouch of my underpants, wondering if they would start to
dangle like Mr Dixon's when I got older. I was utterly mesmerised, not by
the skinny prick pumping in and out of Mickey's mouth, but by the massive
hairy bollocks at its base. I had to know what they felt like. Leaving my
own balls alone, I reached out with my left hand and cupped my science
teacher's testicles. They were heavy, and the thick hair covering the
wrinkled scrotum was surprisingly soft. The fat bollocks felt good in my
hand, and I began stroking them gently in time with his thrusts.

"Yes, Jones! That's it! Give them a squeeze!" he hissed. I gently started
squeezing Mr Dixon's bollocks as he curled his fingers around Mickey's
hair. I felt his ballsack beginning to tighten in my grasp, and suddenly Mr
Dixon froze and groaned loudly. I saw his prick begin to jerk and throb,
and Mickey's Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tried to swallow all of
the load that the adult's prick was dumping in his mouth. He seemed to
shoot forever, and soon Mickey's mouth began to overflow, dribbling jism
all down his school shirt and tie. I felt Mickey shudder and squirm, his
little prick jerking in my hand, he was gasping and moaning as he heaved an
orgasm without spurting. Gently, he pulled my hand out his underpants.

I stood and pushed my y-fronts down to my knees and started furiously
jerking my prick. I waved it in front of Mickey's mouth, hoping he'd open
up and suck on me again, but he just grinned and started cleaning Mr
Dixon's jism off his tie. I felt myself getting closer and closer to
coming, and then the bell rang out shrilly, signalling the end of the lunch
hour.

"Put it away, Jones, and get yourself to afternoon registration," Mr Dixon
told me, an amused smile playing about his lips as he tucked his shirt back
into his trousers. "I expect to see you in detention after school tomorrow,
my lad. You too, Barrington. Now run along, the pair of you." With that, he
turned and went out, with Mickey scampering out after him. Both of them
leaving me there in a storecupboard with my underpants around my ankles, a
stiff prick and blue balls. Bastards!

==========================

NEXT TIME: Our young hero tries to get his rocks off, but gets more than he
bargained for!