Date: Mon, 14 Feb 2005 01:07:32 +0000 (GMT)
From: roy p...... <sunbeamtb@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Seduction part 1

This is a story about a young man who is confident with his
sexuality - but little else. He knows what he wants, but not
how to get it. He is a little naive in how to share with
others, but develops a plan. See if it works.
All the usual warnings and disclaimers apply, this is a
fictional account of adult and youth sexual encounters which
are, correctly, illegal in the real world. This, however, is
fiction.



                              1



Ben opened his wardrobe and chose the clothes he was going
to wear carefully. Today, Friday, was a 'dress down' day at
school, and he had paid his pound towards the charity
collection in exchange for not having to wear the school's
uniform for a day. He picked out a dark blue close-fitting t-
shirt, his hip-hugging Wrangler stonewashed jeans, and a
matching Levi's jean jacket. Underwear? Boxers, briefs, or -
yes, nothing. He was dressing for a purpose. He packed his
homework into his backpack, homework that he'd worked
specially hard on, although he found it difficult. All for
the same purpose.
He slung the backpack over one shoulder, then looked at
himself in the wardrobe mirror door. Yes, that was the look
he wanted. Seductive. The denim jacket open, the t-shirt
tight, showing a glimpse of his toned body. The jeans tight
enough to bulge in the right place.
He skipped lightly down the stairs and walked into the
kitchen, picked up the packed lunch his mum had prepared for
him and put it in the backpack. He walked out of the back
door, paused to lock it and pocket the key, and set off for
school.

Benjamin James Bromley was 14 and gay. His preference was
for older men, 25-35, and his dream guy worked at Pagefield
secondary school, and was Ben's maths teacher. He also set
Ben's 'gaydar' bell ringing.

Carl Anthony Beecham, 24, was settling in at Pagefield
school as the new maths teacher, his first post-college
appointment. He had taken a two-room flat over the butcher's
shop in the high street only two weeks before the start of
term, and was missing the company of his former college
friends, particularly Malcolm, his room mate for four years,
the last two of which had seen their relationship grow into
bed partners. Mal had taken a position in central France,
though, as he had specialised in European languages. Carl
missed him deeply.
As Ben walked through the staff car park, Carl had driven in
and parked his elderly Ford Fiesta, and was collecting some
homework books from the passenger side, and trying to
balance them, his briefcase, and lunch box as he tried to
kick the car door closed.
"Morning, Mr. Beecham. Can I give you a hand?"
Carl jumped and half the books fell to the ground. He looked
round to see Bromley striding towards him, hands
outstretched to take the books. Actually he saw the jeans
and jacket and a rather fit body wearing them before he
recognised the face, so the look took three seconds before
he replied, "Oh! Thank you! Yes!" as he composed himself
again.
Ben took the books and Carl picked up the ones that had
fallen, and added them to the pile. He locked his car and
picked up his briefcase and lunch box, and started off
towards the school. "This way, please, Bromley. They're your
class's books and your first lesson is with me."
'I wish it was', Ben thought, 'I bet you could teach me a
thing or two!'
"O.K. Sir!" is what he actually said, though.
They reached the classroom and Ben put the books down on the
teacher's desk. He idly thumbed through them, looking for
his own. "How did I do, sir?" he asked, idly.
"Spectacularly!" replied Carl. "Spectacularly badly! I don't
think you listened to anything I taught last week, did you?"
"I just didn't understand it, Sir." Ben explained. "Algebra
is just a foreign language as far as I'm concerned, I just
cant grasp the idea of it. Sorry."
"You don't seem to try, Bromley. You're always in a daydream
whenever I look at you during the lesson."
'Yes, I suppose I am,' Ben thought. 'Daydreaming about you.'
"I'm trying to understand it, but you move too fast for me,
Sir. I hear the first part, then while I'm trying to get the
point you've moved on and I lose track. Is there any chance
you could go through it all again, Sir?"
"Not really, Bromley. There's so much stuff to get through
this year I can't go back over old ground." Carl said,
believing Ben's excuse.
"Couldn't you give me extra lessons after school, Sir?" Ben
asked, the thought of what the extra lessons could be about
causing a small twitch in his cock.
Carl looked at Ben. He wondered what he saw, a genuinely
slow at learning schoolboy, or a boy bored with lessons and
trying any excuse to escape the truth of failing to pay
attention. Or even a boy whose body he'd like to run his
hands over. There was no hiding the fact that seeing Ben
dressed as he was today was far more interesting than the
scruffy kid in creased school uniform who never listened to
anything he said in the lessons. Those jeans were just tight
enough to show a tantalising bulge he'd like to see more of
!
"Please?" Ben iced the cake.
"I'll see what I can do." Carl said, taking the bait. "But I
don't think the school would be keen on staying open late
just for one pupil -"
"Could you do it at your place, Sir? For a couple of
evenings, or a Saturday perhaps?" Ben sowed the seeds of
seduction deep. Carl had just been considering the same
thing, for different reasons than the educational ones.
"I'll think about it and let you know." Carl said.

The school bell rang, conveniently ending the conversation.
Ben sat in one of the front chairs, and took his text book
from his backpack and set it on the chair-mounted swing-
tray. Other members of the class filed in, talking,
laughing, jostling each other as they entered, then settled
down, more subdued as Mr. Beecham was already in the room.
The lesson began and Ben tried hard to pay attention, aware
that his teacher was watching him. He slid down in the seat
a bit, stretching his legs out, and by thinking out scenes
he hoped he could act for real later, allowed his erection
to grow in his jeans.
Carl noticed, oh how he noticed !  He almost did a double
take, he certainly lost his place in the teaching agenda.
"Where was I?" he asked, of no-one in particular.
Some of the class giggled. "I think you're at the hard
part." Ben called out. "It's too hard for me to deal with!"
The class laughed. Ben was known to be 'a bit thick' with
maths, anything more than 2+2 was 'too hard for Ben to deal
with' as far as they were concerned
Carl realised that Ben had meant more than the class had
thought. He knew that the bait had been laid for him, and he
took it, willingly. He played Ben at his own game. "Bromley,
stay behind after the class has ended, please. I'll have to
teach you how to deal with the hard part, and that's by
paying attention and practicing more."
The class laughed again, thinking that Ben was going to get
extra homework for being cheeky in class.

Ben remained stretched out for most of the rest of the
lesson. He kept his erection, too, occasionally giving it a
rub with his hand, usually just as Mr. Beecham turned back
to face the class after writing on the board. Almost at the
end of the lesson, he sat up and allowed himself to lose the
erection. "Well, Mr. Bromley, what have you learned today?"
Carl asked him.
"I've learnt that I have to pay attention to your hard
parts, Sir!" Ben answered. The class erupted in laughter.
None of them knew he was gay, so the joke was a good
cheeky one. The bell rang and everyone gathered up
their books and headed out.
"Come here, Bromley." Carl called out as the last few
boys left the room. He stood behind his desk, hands
gripping the sides, looking annoyed. Ben walked up to
him. He nodded down to the desk and looking down, Ben
saw a small piece of paper, a quarter page ripped
from a school homework book, with an address written
on it.
"Tonight at six." Carl said. "But I don't know what
you want to learn."
Ben was standing close by the side of the desk, and
leant forward enough for the bulge in his jeans to
press into the back of Carl's hand.
"Anything you want to teach me, Mr. Beecham. Anything
you want to teach me."
Ben turned and walked towards the classroom door,
where he turned his head back to Carl and added, "And
I hope you'll make it hard for me!" then was gone.