Date: Wed, 23 Apr 2008 02:52:19 -0500
From: Manny Oaks <mannyoaks@gmail.com>
Subject: Our Secret - 2

Usual Rules Apply. Feedback appreciated.  mannyoaks@gmail.com (c)2008
by Manny Oaks.


The next day was Friday.


My mom woke me up for school, and I immediately went into a panic.  No
matter how hard I tried, I couldn't erase the images of the things
that happened on the bus, not even twenty-four hours ago.  I was very
confused; on one hand, what happened between Mr. Kean and I was
definitely wrong, on so many levels.  But on the other hand, I had a
raging hard-on that wouldn't quit, and it felt so good and so nice,
and I even felt a little special that Mr. Kean did the things he did
with me and not one of the other kids.

I was all nerves on the bus that morning.  I sat and stared out the
window, on a seat just like the one my teacher had taken advantage of
me on, trying to think of anything that would get my cock to go down.
I wanted to beat off, but there wasn't time or privacy.

"What's with you, man?" my friend Thomas asked me during lunch.  "You
haven't eaten anything and you've said like, six words all period."

"Oh," I barked. "I'm just kind of out of it today... I was out late
last night with the art fair."

"Aw, shit, that was yesterday, wasn't it?" Thomas shoved a couple of
fries in his mouth and continued.  "Sorry man, my sister had youth
group last night, I couldn't get a ride up there. How'd it go?"

"I got second place for the one of that old railroad bridge," I said,
finally taking a bite of my burger.  "The other two came in eleventh
and thirteenth, but Mr. Kean thinks I'll do even better next year, now
that I'm on the map."

" 'On the map!?' " Thomas laughed, throwing some fries at my ear like
little javelins.  "Off the CHARTS is what you are man, your shit's
great.  Like REALLY great."

"Fuck you," I said, grinning a little.  "They're okay."

There was some silence as Thomas inhaled more fries and I make a few
more forced efforts at feigning hunger.  I'd see Mr. Kean for the
first time since what happened.  I kept referring to it in my head as
"What happened," maybe to detach from it, but after a while, even
hearing those words in my head made my dick throb.

"You never did tell me what's wrong with you, bitch," Thomas jabbed me
in the shoulder, but quickly grew serious.  He'd seen it in my face,
my inability to respond with anything at all.  "Seriously Davey,
what's up?"

"I told you man, I'm just tired," I said.

Just then, the bell rang.

"Lunar Bar later?" asked Thomas.  I nodded and grabbed my bag to head to class.



Mr. Kean wasn't in the room when I got there, which I'd expected as
I'd accidentally rushed to his class.  Slowly my classmates began to
trickle in, talking about silly little kid things like gym class and
girls.  I had no time for it; my heart was beating so hard in my chest
I swore the sound was coming from outside of me.

Eventually the classroom filled, and everyone was present, no
absentees, but still no sign of Mr. Kean.  Where the hell was he?  I
felt like I needed to see  him, just SEE him, even as afraid as I was,
to maybe validate it, what happened.  I pulled out my sketchbook and
began to draw a shaky-lined sketch of a human skull.  I tried to
channel all of my thoughts into the details and shading and not think
about Mr. Kean, but I found myself drifting off into thoughts of lust
all over again.

Finally, we heard the sound of someone futzing with the door handle.
It opened slowly, and my heart stopped beating altogether.


It wasn't Mr. Kean.


Instead, it was Mrs. Van Buren, one of the regular substitute
teachers, with a generic painting assignment for us to do.  Mr. Kean
had called out of work for some kind of situation with out-of-town
relatives, and would likely be back by Monday.   My heart sank, and it
took everything I had to keep from bursting into tears right in front
of my classmates.  I waited a few minutes for things to settle down,
and then asked Mrs. Van Buren for a bathroom privileges.  She obliged,
and I, dejected, walked across the school to the bathroom by the old
shop rooms.



The shop rooms were all harbored in one of the older sections of
Willow Way High School, and hadn't been used in two or three years at
that point, the victims of a growing student body and a shrinking
budget.  The restrooms at that end of the school were usually open,
but largely quiet on account of there being no classes down there.  My
mind was so overwrought with emotions that I didn't know whether to
scream or cry, but either way I wanted to do it in seclusion.

The lights were off in the bathroom, but the tiny windows along the
top of the west wall gave adequate light at this time of day; enough
to see your way around, though the room was still littlered with
shadows.  I cased the bathroom to be sure I was completely alone,
walking first through the urinal section, then checking under the
stalls.  There was a staff restroom in there as well, but it was
always locked, and the silence gave no indication of it being
occupied.

I settled on the last stall, and locked myself inside.  I sat down on
the toilet there, drawing my feet up on the seat with my chin on my
knees, and closed my eyes.  I gave in to the assault of still frames
from the night previous; the way his arm felt on my shoulder.  His
hand inching down my back.  The way he ordered me around out of no
where, and the feel of his come between my legs.  Still, this was
coupled with the disappointment of him not being in school, and the
idea of going the whole weekend without seeing or hearing from him
drove me nuts!  Finally I decided I couldn't take the tension anymore,
and quietly unzipped my pants, pushing them down around my ankles.  I
took off my shirt and sat it on the floor next to me and gently
wrapped my hand around my hard, throbbing cock.  A quiet moan escaped
my lips at the sensation, and I closed my eyes and began to slowly
work my cock, imagining what it might be like to be alone with Mr.
Kean one more time, even though he promised he'd never do it again.

I remembered vividly the way it felt to have his nine in cock slipping
over my asshole.  I felt so sure if I had it to do over, I wouldn't
begged him to put it inside me, and I wet my left middle finger with
saliva and started poking at my hole while I slowly stroked my cock.
Aside from when Mr. Kean's big head slipped in a bit right when he
came, I'd never had anything in there at all.  It felt strange,
rubbing my finger around the puckered rim of my hole, but I slowly
realized that I enjoyed this new sensaton.

Precum began to drip down the sides of my cock, and I began using it
for lube, sliding my fist up and down, up and down, with
slowly-increasing fervor.  My jaw now slacken, I took my finger away
from my ass long enough to pinch and play with my nipples, yet another
moan reverberating through the room.

Just then I heard the door to the bathroom open, and froze.  Heavy
foot falls, slow and deliberate, across the tile floor.  I thought for
sure it was either a hall monitor or some teacher that Mrs. Van Buren
had sent to look for me.  I quietly picked up my shirt and pulled it
over my head, hoping whoever it was would see my feet under the stall
and leave me be.

The footfalls continued, seeming to follow almost the same steps as
the ones I'd taken when I entered the room, much the way I'd imagine a
sniffing dog would.   They walked past the urinals, over towards the
teacher's restroom.  I heard the sound of keys jingling, and then the
lock to the restroom clicking into an open position.

Suddenly, the footsteps began again, heading right over to the very
stall I was seated in.  I was shocked, and sat perfectly still, trying
my best to come up with something to say to whomever it was out there.
"Uh, occupied!" was all I could muster.

"Open the door, kid!" a voice yelled. I recognized it, but couldn't
place it at first.  Then I realized the person outside the door was
wearing worn steel-toed boots with dark blue canvas pants, like the
janitors.

"Uh.. I'm using the bathroom right now," I reiterated," but the man
wouldn't let up.

"Kid, you got five seconds to open this door before I tell your
teacher what you've been up to in here."  How did he know!?  He
must've been cleaning nearby and heard my moans.  I quickly stood,
pulling up my pants and underwear in one swift tug. I quickly zipped
up and tried to position my undying hardon so he wouldn't see.  The I
unlocked the door. It was Mr. Smith, one of the school janitors, as
I'd suspected.  He eyed me suspiciously, but didn't appear to notice
my hardon.  He quickly looked around the room, and then grabbed me by
the forearm, growling "Get over here, kid."  I began to protest, but
he wouldn't hear any of it.

He practically dragged me over to the teacher's restroom and shoved me
inside, closing and locking the door behind him.  He then turned me
around and sat me down on the toilet  "Mr. Smith, what are you doing?"
I questioned.  He looked down at me, a sneer etched into his face, and
stared me coldly in the eye.

"Look, Mr. Smith!" I began to plead.  "I didn't think anybody could..
hear me.  You're not gonna report this, are you?  My parents would
crucify me!"  I went to stand up but he shoved me back down.  He
stepped forward, smiling lewdly at me as my eyes locked onto his.
"Mr. Smith," I whispered, "I don't--"


"Shut the fuck up, kid," he warned.  "I seen you and that fuckin'
teacher last night," he grunted, taking all of the air from my chest.


"That's right," he laughed cruelly in response to my astonishment.

Holy Shit, I thought, he'd seen us!  He knew what we'd done, seen it
all!  What was he going to do?

"Ha, yeah," he continued. "I seen you two.  Seen you strokin' his
cock, seen you both naked, watched him fuckin' you against the bus
door."

"He didn't--" I began, quickly realizing that I might get us both in
trouble if I kept talking about it.

"Gonna make this real simple, kid," Mr Smith said, seeming to ignore
what I'd tried to say.  His slender, bony hands moved to the front of
his pants and he began to unfasten them.  My heart sank into my gut.
This couldn't be happening, could it?

Suddenly I found myself staring at the long, skinny, rock-hard penis
of one of the school's janitors.  It was fiercely erect,  the purple
head pulsating with the need to come.  "Yeah, real simple," he
continued.  "You want our little secret to stay our little secret, you
better get those pretty lips wrapped around this dick, you got it?"

"But Mr. Smith," I protested again, feeling like I might cry at any
moment.  The janitor responded by moving only closer to me, his cock
bobbing in my face.  I went to speak again and he began to swing his
hips from side to side, slapping my face with his dick.  "Mmmmmm yeah,
kid, get this dick wet!"

Realizing I was out of options, I leaned forward and began to take Mr.
Smith's cock into my mouth.  "Watch your teeth, you shit!" he
recoiled, slipping his cock out of my mouth and slapping me with it.
The slapping stung, and now that his cock had a little saliva on it,
it left little wet spots on my cheeks, but when he finally steadied
up, I took his dick into my mouth, being careful to keep my teeth
covered up.  Mr. Smith's entire body began to shake as I slid my lips
up and down his cock.  It wasn't as long or thick as Mr. Kean's, I
could tell, but Mr. Smith was about six foot two and weighed probably
a hundred sixty pounds soaking wet, so his tiny size and stature made
his dick look quite large.  He was younger than most of the janitors;
in fact, he'd barely graduated from Willow Way only ten years earlier.

As I sucked, he began to remove first his dark blue shirt, then
dropped his pants to his knees.  He continued to bark commands at me,
inbetween his hushed moans of pleasure.  "SUCK it, boy, SUCK!!
Tightened up your fucking mouth!  That's it, let me feel that tongue,
boy, move it around! Now suck on my balls, kid, come on, like you mean
it!"   I tried my best to keep up with him, slowly learning how to
better execute his commands.  When I began to suck on his balls, he
began to utter a string of dirty talk.  "Ohhh, that's it, you little
bitch, suck those balls, suuck'emmm, yeah... oh yeah, just like that
you little cockslut!  Take 'em both in your mouth--ohhh fuck yeah, you
got a hot little mouth, doncha boy?"  His cock jerked wildly about,
and the amount of precum oozing from his cock was unbelievable.  I
could feel he'd wet a significant portion of my hair with it, and a
bunch was smeared across my cheeks.  I realized my own cock had become
a steel pole inside my pants. I moved my hands to unfasten them, and
then instinctively looked up to my captor for approval.

"Go ahead, you bitch boy, play with your little baby-cock," he
chuckled, his long, dark hair obscuring the sinister face looking down
at me.  I quickly unfastened my pants and went to work stroking my own
cock while Mr. Smith fucked his in and out of my mouth.  "So good,
sooooo good," Mr. Smith breathed.  "Work it, boy.   Work that cock,
suck it good."  He put his hands gently on the back of my head,
fucking his cock slowly but steadily into my mouth as far as I could
take it.

Then it began.  I felt myself getting close, the come boiling in my
balls and slowly traveling up and out.  I began to moan on Mr. Smith's
cock, and I guess he knew what was happening because he quickly shook
his pants from his legs and pushed them away so my come wouldn't stain
them.   "Shoot your little load, kiddo, lemme see it!" He said, his
own breath beginning to get a little ragged.

I couldn't help it;  As soon as my orgasm hit me, I leaned back on the
toilet seat, my mouth slipping off of Mr. Smith's cock.  I let out a
low series of moans and groans as my cock began to fire shot after
shot of cum straight up into the air, most of it landing on my
shoulders and chest.  He reached down and gently pinched at my nipples
as I came.  My body rocked and convulsed as my cock fired the last few
shots and began to slowly drip the end bit down over my fingers.  I
sat there, panting, the shock and shame of what I had just done slowly
rising as my breathing steadied.

Just then, Mr. Smith grabbed my head by the ears and shoved his cock
into my mouth before I even realized what was going on.  My arms flew
about wildly as he fucked his cock into my mouth in quick, rapid
little thrusts.  I kept trying to speak but my words were stifled each
time his cock went into my mouth.  "OH SHIT BOY!" He shouted, "I"M
GONNA FILL YOU FULL OF SCUM, YOU LITTLE PERVERT!!"  Mr. Smith jammed
his cock into my mouth fully, his cockhead poking down into my throat.
 I began to gag uncontrollably, sputtering and coughing around his
cock as it began to shoot a thick, salty load down my gullet.  "OOOH
YESSSSSSSSSSS" He rasped, seeming to be completely calm amidst my
jerking and flailing.  I thought he was going to kill me with his cock
but still hadn't even grasped the situation enough to try and change
it.  "TAKE IT, YOU LITTLE CUNT SHIT!! SWALLOW THAT LOAD, OH YEAH!" He
again whispered, suddenly withdrawing his cock from my mouth.  I fell
onto the floor, gasping for air and coughing profusely.   Mr. Smith
stood still, reveling in the afterglow of the orgasm my heretofore
virgin mouth had given him, a smile spread across his face, eyes
closed.  Suddenly he came to, and looked at me for a moment with
something like fear, but he quickly averted his eyes and began to
dress himself.  I watched him do so, wiping tears from my eyes and
cleaning up my sloppy, sticky face and mouth as best I could with
toilet paper.  He watched me through that long brown hair as he
dressed, an intense stare that made me feel like he was judging me,
sizing me up, or perhaps wondering if I would tell on him.

"Better get the fuck out of the faculty restroom," he grunted.
Slicking his sweat-logged hair back behind his ears, he tucked his
shirt gently into his pants.  Next, he opened to door to the little
room, using his keys to set the lock so that "It'll lock behind you
when you leave."

He stopped the door as it was closing. I couldn't see him from the
floor, as the door was almost shut, but he began to speak.  "Kid you
tell anybody--I don't give a shit, the cops, your friends, your
fuckin' teacher, and I'm fucking comin' for you, you got it?  They
wont' be able to lock me up fast enough, bitch-boy.  You know what's
good for you, youll keep this our little secret."  Then the door
closed, and heard those distinct footfalls as they crossed and
departed the restroom.


(to be continued...)