Date: Wed, 17 Aug 2005 14:47:50 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Teacher's Visit

			      TEACHER'S VISIT
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     The knock on the door startled me. I had been home from school about a
half hour, and was sprawled out on the couch watching television. I jumped
up, spilling my bag of Cheetohs across the floor. Shucks! I'd just opened
the bag and now half of it was on the floor! The floor was really dirty,
too, the Cheetos were now covered in dust and cat hairs. Mom kept saying
she'd do the floors on her next day off, but somehow she never did.
     Another knock. I'd better see who it was. Mom had told me never to
open the door for anybody, ever, unless she was home, but I could see who
it was.
     I went into my mother's bedroom, she had a window that looked out onto
the front door. I climbed up on the bed, and peered out.
     "Mr. Skyler!" I shouted from the window. It was my teacher from second
grade, Mr. Skyler! He was standing outside all dressed up in a business
suit. He went visiting his students' homes on Thursday nights, but his last
time at my house had been near the first of the school year, and my dad had
been living with us then and Mom had been staying at home with me. A lot
had changed since last October, so I guess he figured another visit was
needed.
     He saw me in the window and waved and I ran to open the door for
him. It was great, Mr. Skyler coming to my house! He was a great teacher,
loved his work and loved us kids and the feeling was real mutual.
     I opened the door and looked up at Mr. Skyler and he looked down at
me. Smiling, then a bit concerned. "Keith! You're not dressed!"
     I looked down at my briefs and shrugged sheepishly. "I was home and
watching television. Didn't know you'd be coming by. Come on in!" He walked
in with me and looked around while I looked at him.
     Mr. Skyler was maybe thirty years old and had the blackest, curly hair
you could see, all shiny and clean and cut close to his head where it made
a mis-arranged mop. His face was serene and reassuring with the strong blue
eyes above the rather-puglike nose with its wide-flared nostrils, you felt
safe around him and when he smiled at you for something you did right in
class, moving his cheeks from their flat perch upon his face into a pair of
moon-shaped crescents, you stood up a little taller and tramped
triumphantly back to your seat, bathed in that pearly light.
     But he looked troubled as he regarded our house, the dirty clothes
strewn all about, the layer of dust on everything and things piled on every
surface, with a smell of unchanged cat-litter box and rotten banana skins
over all that. He looked around, then back at me, started to speak,
stopped, cleared his throat, and started again. "Is your mother home?"
     "She's working." I said.
     "I thought she stayed home with you."
     "She did, until Daddy left us." I said. "Then she had to get a job,
and fast."
     "Oh." he said and silence fell again.
     "She'll be home about six-thirty." I concluded. "Usually, unless the
job runs late, or she gets stuck in traffic. Then it's more like seven
o'clock or seven-thirty."
     "So who stays here with you from the time you get home until then?" he
asked me.
     I shrugged. "Nobody."
     "Nobody?"
     "I watch television." I said. "I eat a snack and wait for Mommy to get
home. Then we eat and watch some more television. Mommy's tired when she
gets home."
     "Oh." he said again.
     "Weekends are worst." I finished. "Mommy has to work all of them, both
days, so I spend all day alone. Mom won't let me stay over the weekend with
anyone."
     "I see." he said. "So that's why...the house could use some help." he
said delicately.
     "Uh-huh." I said. "Mom says she's going to clean up her next day
off...but she hasn't done that yet. She says cooking meals for me and doing
the laundry is all she can take."
     "I see." he said again. Looked at his watch. "It's only four o'clock
now. She won't be home for another two and a half hours."
     "Nu-uh." I agreed. "You want some Cheetohs? I got a half-bag left. And
we have some ice water in the refrigerator."
     "No, I'm fine." he said. "But I think I should stay here until she
gets home."
     I thought of that and a big grin lit up on my face. "Okay, come on. We
can watch cartoons!"
     I grabbed his big hand and tugged at him. The hairs on the back of his
hand tickled my palm, but I held on and he let me drag him over to the
couch which was our sole piece of furniture to sit on.
     The Cheetohs I had spilled crunched under his shoes as he stepped over
and sat down. Dead center of the couch, which sagged toward him from both
sides. That suited me, I got up beside him and let the couch slide me right
down against him. I grinned up at him, said, "Sorry!" but I wasn't sorry
one bit.
     He grinned back at me and said, "No problem, Keith. Might as well get
comfortable; it's going to be a while."
     "Okay." I said and I grabbed his arm and slipped it up over my
shoulders and snuggled in.
     Again, he just grinned, this time with a bit of a chuckle and he let
me worm my face in against his big, strong chest.
     We talked a while, but there isn't a heck of a lot a teacher and
student can talk about. He listened diligently to my stories about my
classmates, answered my questions about schoolwork and told me some
innocent things about himself, like he lived alone and he had liked school
when he was my age, and he liked games.
     The talk sort of trailed off about a half hour later, a show came on
which I could see he liked and I didn't, so I didn't say anything and he
quieted down as he watched the show. Talk-talk-talk, that's what they do on
those shows, I don't see why grown-ups like them, I don't see why anyone
likes them! They're boring!
     So I got bored and I began to look at Mr. Skyler. He was such a
nice-looking guy. He looked down at me when he felt my eyes on him and he
smiled and his hand came up and ruffled my hair. I smiled at him and then
looked down bashfully. Where I ended up looking, quite by accident, was at
his crotch. He was scooted forward a little on the couch due to the shape
of the back cushion and I could see how the center of his pants were bulged
out. Just like my briefs were, I noticed, only with my briefs, you expect
that sort of thing, but not pants! So I stared at that and stared at that,
and Mr. Skyler (I think) didn't notice. I looked up and he was entranced
with the men talk-talk-talking on the television. Then back down to his
pants and considered that bulge.
     I was bored and I was curious and I was barely eight years old; so I
did what any curious kid is going to do in a case like that, I reached down
and grabbed hold of that bulge. I really just wanted to know what it felt
like, if it was all him or if it was just the material folded funny or
something.
     Mr. Skyler kind of gasped when I got hold of him. Inside that bulge,
it was all soft and warm and sort of squishy, not like liquid but like
silly putty, it gave way, but slowly under my questioning hand.
     I heard Mr. Skyler give another sort of gasp then, and I looked up to
see him looking down at me, my hand on his crotch, his eyes were wide and
his mouth open and his entire face looked sort of softened. He locked eyes
with me, me with my hand on his pants, and I felt a soft area under my hand
start to get swollen and harden.
     "Keith," Mr. Skyler said, and it wasn't a normal tone of voice, just
sort of a husky whisper. "Keith, what are you doing?"
     I didn't know any better but to answer, and truthfully. "I wanted to
see if that was your peter or not." I said. "And it is, and it's getting
harder." I said, also truthfully, because the bulge in his pants was larger
than ever, and crowned with a long, thick shaft that could only be his
peter.
     Mr. Skyler's only answer to that was a sort of gurgle, which I figured
meant he liked it. I began to rub his pants, right on top of his peter, and
he just sort of gave that same gurgling noise, kind of a "gur-ur-ur-ur-ur!"
sound.
     My next move was to reach and get hold of the handle on his zipper,
and I began to tug it down. When I did, Mr. Skyler shifted, but all he did
was kind of straighten out his body, to make it easier for me to unzip him,
which I did. When the fly came open, the thick bulge that was his now-hard
dong was a white oval in the opened flap, filling it to bursting. The
material was thin, much thinner than mine, and I puzzled about that. It was
like he had a white handkerchief down there!
     "Go ahead." Mr. Skyler said huskily, his voice almost hoarse, but it
came out slow, measured, and intimate. "Go ahead, Keith. You can do it if
you want to."
     "Yeah!" I said with a smile widening my mouth as I reached in to find
the way to get it on out. When I did, it was like the side of the
handkerchief (I'd never seen boxers on a guy before, honest, I didn't know
what they were then, so it was all strange to me) and I could push that
aside and tug the entire, turgid length out into the open, and Mr. Skyler's
pud stood proud and tall and waved its head at the ceiling.
     "Cool!" I breathed when I saw it. "It's so big!" A sort of star winked
on top of it and I looked closer. "What's that on top?" It had a kind of
small, clear-like-glass button on top, and inside it were lots of smaller
little bubbles, so tiny you could barely see them. All I knew was that it
was definitely not piss! I reached up and touched it and it was real hot
and sticky and I lifted my fingertip away and it reached up with it, making
a lot, still-clear rope of stuff connecting my finger to the top of
Mr. Skyler's pud. "What is that?" I asked him again.
     "Oohh!" He moaned. "It's...it's a sort of thing that your body makes
when you grow up."
     "Yeah?" I said, interested. "What does it do?"
     "This, nothing much, it's just the first of it. If you keep working it
and playing with it, though, it'll make a whole lot more all of a sudden,
and that will be sort of white."
     "Yeah?" I said again. "What do I do, work it like this?" and I began
to pump his cock up and down. Now, I had learned to do that to myself and
get a kind of tingling that felt really good after a while, so I knew
sort-of what to do. Mr. Skyler's cock was so big I had to move my hand a
whole lot, though, not just wiggle my fingers back and forth like I did to
myself, and so I began to stroke up and down on Mr. Skyler's dong, and he
groaned, much louder now, and he muttered words like, "Oh, yeah, Keith,
that's it, yeah, do it for me, do it for your teacher, Keith, I love it,
yeah, come on, do it for me, faster, Keith, do it faster, do it faster for
your teacher."
     "Okay, Mr. Skyler." I said and I worked his pud even faster, my little
hand pumping up and down that huge, turbulent length of man-meat as it
moved like a warm hot-dog in my hand, a hot-dog with a loose wrapper that
slipped up and down as soft as velvet over the huge, now-purplish head.
     Mr. Skyler moaned as I moved my hand even quicker, and his words
mumbled forth again, "Oh, yeah, that's a good boy, that's my good pupil,
you learn real well, Keith, now, would you kiss it for me, kiss it for your
teacher, let me feel your lips on it, Keith, let your teacher feel your
lips on it, please, you can do it, come on, you can do it."
     "Yes, sir." I said and I obediently leaned over and I gave that
cockhead a nice kiss. When I did, the slimy, sticky stuff stuck to my lips
and I pulled away and that rope of stickiness slapped against my chin and I
reached up to wipe it away with my free hand while my tongue came out to
lick my lips clean.
     Salty, warm and salty, that was how it tasted. I stopped pumping
Mr. Skyler's prick in mid-stroke, and I licked my lips clean then lifted my
hand up. "Hey, that tastes good!" I said in wonder. "Kind of salty but real
good."
     "Yes, Keith, it's good, you can eat it if you want to, it's not going
to hurt you any, kiss it off of me, kiss my cock head clean for me, Keith,
do it for me, do it, please, do it for me."
     So I leaned over and this time I really began to lick his pud. That
slimy clear stuff was all over the top of his cock by now, and I slurped on
it eagerly as if I had a Mr. Skyler-flavored Tootsie Pop in my hand and I
took the entire head into my mouth and when I did, Mr. Skyler began to
babble out his low monotone of words again.
     "Yeah, take it in your mouth, take it all in your mouth, now, Keith,
that's a good boy, that's a very good boy, you can suck on it now, suck on
my cockhead just like that, it feels so good when you suck on it, you can
do that for me, can't you, Keith, be a good boy and suck on my cock just
like that, just like that."
     Mr. Skyler's hand which had been around my shoulders was now sliding
down my back, and he shifted just a little bit toward me and his hand
reached down from my other side, the side away from him, and he reached
into my briefs like that and I felt his grape-sized fingertips catch hold
of my little peter. He got hold of it and he began to wiggle it up and down
as best he could, and he kept on muttering, "suck it for me, Keith, be good
to it and I'll be good to you, we'll be best friends, Keith, you and me,
suck it for me and we'll be best friends, suck it deeper, Keith, even
deeper, you can take more of it if you're careful and if you're good, suck
it deeper for me, suck it deeper."
     With that as my incentive, I got bolder. When my teeth scraped him for
a second, he gave a grunt of pain, and I contritely pulled up and licked
the scraped area with my tongue until I had it fully soothed and then I
moved again, this time being careful with my teeth and after a time I
learned how to take it into my mouth all the way inside, and Mr. Skyler
loved that, his cock was so big and hot now it was like holding a big chunk
of hot meat in my mouth (I guess it was, wasn't it, a piece of hot meat,
hot man meat! He-he-he-he!) and Mr. Skyler was really moving his fingers on
my own little pud.
     My peter began to tingle like always and I groaned and mumbled and my
hips hunched themselves up at Mr. Skyler's hand and he moved even faster
when I did that and I was gasping around his cock in my mouth and as I
sagged down in relief from my own little tingle, Mr. Skyler began to groan
in earnest. His hands caught hold of my head, and he croaked out, "It's
okay, Keith, I'm almost ready to shoot all that white stuff, you'll like
it, let me help you finish, just hold on and we'll finish, Keith, I'm ready
to shoot all that white stuff out for you and you'll like it, just hold on
and let me help you."
     I did and while I choked a little now and then, it wasn't too bad, and
since Mr. Skyler was feeling so good and he had just made me feel good, I
let him pump my head up and down while I gripped his cock as tight as I
could, and Mr. Skyler's stream of words stopped, choked off, and then he
sort of went, "uh, uh, GUH-UH-UH-HUH, KUKH-KUHHHHHHH!" and with that last
"kuh" of his, he delivered on his promise to shoot out all that white
stuff, and he did, right into my mouth. His hands tightened on me, and then
I felt him, through sheer force of self-will, forced himself to let go of
me, and I was free again, and somehow I knew he really wanted me to just
keep on doing what I had been and I made myself lunge up and down on that
cock even while it squirted a ton of that hot white jizz all in my mouth,
there was so much of it, it spurted out the sides of my mouth, it ran down
his shaft and I encountered it as I moved downwards again, heavy jets of it
spurted while it was deepest in my mouth, and I choked and snorted and when
I did, a huge glob of it went up into my nostrils and I snorted again and a
hot white dribble poured out of both my nostrils at once, and still more
hot white goo was pouring out of Mr. Skyler. I started gulping it down as
hard and fast as I could, and yet more of it poured out of my mouth and I
snorted out still more from my nose, and then I gulped yet again and
Mr. Skyler's groans lost an edge, though they continued loud and vehement,
and I was then able to get control, for no more was gushing out of his
prick, it was all done and I had to clean up, and then I was slurping on
his prick which was getting softer, and then it was too soft to hold in my
mouth and I let go, and sat back up straight, looked at Mr. Skyler.
     He was sweaty now, his chest still pumping air in and out, but he gave
me a grin like none I'd seen on him before, it was all the appreciation and
well-done's he'd ever given me, all rolled into one giant, open mouthed
smile as his breaths hissed in and out.
     "Heh-heh-heh-heh!" Mr. Skyler chuckled, and that was another sound I'd
never heard him make, he'd laughed with us before, but that was a
hah-hah-hah sound, this was deeper and more...special. "You're a very good
boy, Keith."
     "Did you like that?" I asked, just to hear him say the words.
     "Keith, I liked that a whole lot." Mr. Skyler said and he reached to
take me into his arms and I realized and I crawled up into his lap, to sit
straddle on one leg while he reached for my mouth.
     But it was his tongue that came out and he licked my face, Mr. Skyler
licked my face where his jism that had squirted out of my nose and had
splashed on my face, he licked that off of me, and it was like a dog and
not like a dog, it was very warm and felt so good. When he was done, he
gave me a kiss then, and it was a real long, warm kiss and I could taste
that salty jizz on his lips where he'd licked it off me and I bet mine were
even saltier, but he kissed me hard just the same.
     "Whew!" Mr. Skyler said. "That was really something." He said with a
sort of final sound.
     Over? I looked at the clock. "Mr. Skyler, it still isn't five o'clock
yet. You're going to be here for another hour at least if you're waiting
for my mother."
     "Yes." he said, not seeing it.
     "So until we hear her car pull up." I said and I slipped back off his
lap and one of my hands caught hold of his limp prick. "I'm going to keep
right on hanging onto you. Maybe it'll get all nice and hard again and we
can do it some more."
     His cock was swelling already. "I think it will." Mr. Skyler agreed.
     "Yeah." I said. And I scooted down to give his cock some encouragement
by wrapping my lips around it.
     Mr. Skyler came twice more before six fifteen rolled around, and then
he insisted on both of us getting up and cleaning up. In the bathroom, I
held still while he plied a washrag over my face, wiping off any remnants
of the hot white come loads that he had squirted on me. That third time, he
asked if he could shoot it on my face, and I said yes and leaned over, he
only got a little of it on me, but I felt really proud of the feel of
that. I mentioned how little there was, and he explained that he had to
rest between times to make a whole lot like that first time. "That first
time, I hadn't let any of it go in about...hmm, three days, I guess. So
there was a bunch of it."
     "There sure was!" I agreed heartily.
     "But after that first one, I didn't have a whole lot. The body has to
make more. Then I can shoot it again like that first time."
     "Maybe tomorrow?" I asked as he worked the washrag on himself. He
wasn't dirty, but he was sort of sweaty and wanted to wash that off
himself.
     About the time he dried his face and hands and had adjusted his
clothing to where he looked pretty much like he had when I had first opened
my door, and I had put on some shorts and a t-shirt, that was when I heard
Mom's car pull up.
     I ran out to meet her. "Mommy, Mommy, Mr. Skyler's here, my teacher
from school!" I said. "He's been waiting with me for hours for you to get
home."
     Mom was concerned about that, and I only then remembered I wasn't
supposed to let anyone know I was sitting home alone. "I've been trying to
get him a sitter." she explained to my teacher apologetically. "But Keith's
a good boy and he hasn't gotten into any trouble and, well, we needed the
money more for other things."
     "It isn't good for a child to be alone a lot." Mr. Skyler said. "And
in a home that...well, needs some housework done."
     "I'm doing the best I can!" Mom kind of exploded. "It's not easy
working full-time and then coming home to a young boy. He's too young to
help out, it'll get better when he's a little older. And I am looking for a
sitter for him."
     "You don't have to." Mr. Skyler said. "I'll be happy to watch Keith
each day after school. He can come home with me, and I'll tutor him until
six o'clock and then bring him home."
     "Really?" I said, amazed at this offer. "Every day?"
     "Sure." Mr. Skyler said. "Actually, I had come to talk to you because
Keith's grades are slipping, he's down a whole grade point so far. I see
now it's because his father isn't home and Keith is left alone a good
deal. I'm sure if Keith has someone with him after school, he'll do much
better."
     "Yes, he would." Mom said in relief. "I couldn't pay you much for
sitting him...."
     "No, no, it'd be my pleasure." Mr. Skyler said. "My problem is the
opposite of yours, I get home after work and I don't have anything to do."
     "I will if I come home with you." I snickered. "You and me will have a
lot to do."
     "A lot of studying." Mr. Skyler clarified, though of course I wasn't
thinking that at all. "In fact, why don't I take him this weekend, I
understand you work, you can take the opportunity to clean the house
without him in your way and take care of the worst of this...situation."
     "Every weekend." I said quickly. "Mom works every weekend, and it's
all day!"
     "I get Mondays and Tuesdays off." Mom clarified. "They need me on
weekends."
     "We'll see." Mr. Skyler said. "I'll bring Keith home from school
tomorrow long enough to pack a few of his things and that'll give you until
Monday night to take care of the house. Or maybe he could stay with me
until Tuesday night instead, give you two full days, so you can rest as
well as clean up the house?"
     Mom's only look was one of relief. She was worked awful hard, after
all. "If you don't mind, Mr. Skyler, I certainly could use a break from
motherhood. Two whole days to myself would be like having a mini-vacation!"
     "So from tomorrow until Tuesday night." Mr. Skyler said. "Keith will
be all mine."
     "All yours, Mr. Skyler." my mother agreed.
     "Yeah." I chimed in. "All yours."

				  THE END
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