Date: Tue, 24 Mar 1998 22:33:13 EST From: WorldMakr <WorldMakr@aol.com> Subject: The Lesson Ben looked toward the door. He was nervous, but he wasn't about to leave. This was his chance to finally get to know Mr. Harmon, his History teacher. Ben had known he was in love with Mr. Harmon the first day at his new high school. That salt and pepper hair made his blood boil, and the neat moustache made him want to throw himself at his teacher, begging him to take him right in front of the class. Now Mr. Harmon had asked him to stay after class. It was Friday, so everyone else had cleared out already. The football team was on its way to an away game, with the cheerleaders and band. And the rest of the students just wanted out for the weekend. Ben planned to take advantage of the empty school. He watched the door, waiting for Mr. Harmon to collect his mail and return. He'd taken a strategic position at the corner of Mr. Harmon's desk. He'd even undone the top two buttons of his shirt, to give his teacher a hint. Ben had known he was gay early on, when he'd realized that the girls his friends drooled over did as much for him as old Mrs. Miller down the street. Boys his own age didn't turn him on, either. For a while, he wondered if he just wasn't interested in sex. Then he had caught a glimpse of his best friend's father, cutting the grass in a pair of tight cut-off shorts. Ben had thought he must be sick, his dick had sprang up so quickly. He still remembered how hot he'd felt as he rushed to his bedroom, thinking only to hide the embarrassing thing that had always behaved so normally until then. After a few fumbling movements, he'd caught on to the trick of making his dick feel good. And since then, he'd taken every opportunity to watch the men around him. He loved their hard bodies, their maturity. He'd fantasized about giving his body to a man for years now. And now, he was about to fulfill his dream. He would offer himself to Mr. Harmon. A fumbling at the door alerted him. Mr. Harmon stepped inside. He saw Ben on his desk, and frowned. He didn't seem to notice the shirt. "I asked you to stay because of your grades, Ben," he said. His deep voice made Ben's dick ache. Mr. Harmon made a shooing motion with one hand. Ben slid from the desk with a sigh. "You seem to be an intelligent young man," Mr. Harmon continued. "I can't understand why you are barely passing." Because I can't concentrate on anything but your body, thought Ben. He looked down at Mr. Harmon's hands, shuffling though his mail. They were big hands. Strong hands. Ben thought of what those hands could do to him, and shivered. "I don't know, sir," he muttered. He wondered if he had the nerve to slide around to Mr. Harmon's side of the desk, to shove his bulging pants in front of the teacher. Mr. Harmon frowned. He leaned on his elbows and stared across the desk. Ben felt like he was about to melt into a puddle of precome. He thought Mr. Harmon's glance flickered downward, just once, to his crotch. At least, he hoped it had. "What do you think we ought to do about it, then?" Mr. Harmon asked. Ben stared back, his mouth open. Then he realized the teacher was talking about his grade. His face flushed. Mr. Harmon sighed heavily, like he was just about fed up with Ben. When Ben didn't say anything, Mr. Harmon got up to stride toward the door. "No!" The words were out of his mouth before Ben could stop them. He stood there, face burning, staring at the floor. "No?" Mr. Harmon repeated. "No, what, Ben?" Ben swallowed hard. "No, don't send me away, please. I... I want to stay with you." He closed his eyes, unable to believe he'd actually said that. Mr. Harmon was probably going to throw him out and tell the principal, now. He'd be suspended, maybe even expelled for the year. Click. Ben's eyes flew open. Mr. Harmon put the key into his pocket. He pulled down the shade on the window. He walked back to the desk. Ben's mouth hung open. "Now, just what did you mean by that statement, young man?" Oh, God, here it came. Ben almost wished the room wasn't an inner one, with only the one window on the door. He could have made a run for it, wriggled through and escaped. He squared his shoulders, looked at Mr. Harmon's shoes, and answered. "I mean that I love you." There was a long silence. The ticking of the clock sounded like gunshots. Mr. Harmon cleared his throat. "I don't think you know what the word means," he said. Ben threw up his head, angry now. "I know that I want you," he said. "I think about you all the time, even when I'm not in class. I dream about you." Mr. Harmon smiled, like Ben was a dumb kid. "That's lust, Ben, not love." Ben felt tears spring to his eyes. He wilted back onto one of the desks, trying not to cry. "I do love you," he whispered. "No, you don't," Mr. Harmon said firmly. He reached out. His fingers barely brushed against Ben's jaw. Ben's heart stopped beating. "But you might learn to love me," Mr. Harmon murmured. "And I might learn to love you, too." Ben leaped to his feet. "Take me," he begged. "I want you." "Slowly, slowly," Mr. Harmon said with a grin. "You youngsters are always so impatient." He pulled Ben to the back corner of the room, where he'd set up a display table. Now, he brushed the model Indian village roughly into a box, setting them on the floor. He motioned for Ben to sit on the edge of the table. "Put your hands on my shoulders," he ordered. "Keep them there. I want you to let me do everything." "Yes, sir," Ben whispered, barely able to breathe. His fingers clutched Mr. Harmon's collar hard enough to make his knuckles white. Mr. Harmon frowned down at him. "Is this your first time, Ben?" he asked. Ben nodded, blushing again. Mr. Harmon leaned over. His mouth was on Ben's. Ben opened to the kiss, letting Mr. Harmon's tongue probe his mouth. Their tongues shoved against each other. Mr. Harmon kissed hard, like he wanted to swallow Ben head first. Ben nearly came from the intensity. He slipped one hand downward, to Mr. Harmon's shirt buttons. Mr. Harmon broke away. He grabbed Ben's wrist, hauling Ben's hand back to his collar. "I said keep them there," he snapped. Ben opened his mouth to say something, then Mr. Harmon was back, thrusting his tongue inside. Then, Mr. Harmon's hands found Ben's shirt. He undid each button slowly. Ben wriggled on the table, nearly to the point of pain from his throbbing dick. Mr. Harmon didn't seem to notice. He just kept unbuttoning, slowly. Then he peeled the shirt back from Ben's chest. Ben felt his nipples spring to attention in the cool air. Mr. Harmon took his mouth away. Ben whimpered. Then, the lips were on his chest. Mr. Harmon licked at his nipples, sucking them. Ben moaned with pleasure. He shoved his chest forward. Mr. Harmon sucked harder, nipping and biting. It hurt, but it felt good, too. Ben never wanted him to stop. Then he felt the fingers at the button to his fly. Mr. Harmon undid Ben's jeans as slowly as he had the shirt. Ben was bouncing around like a ball by the time Mr. Harmon had the zipper down and started to pull the jeans off. He leaned forward, pushing Ben onto his back, then slid the jeans under Ben's ass. He shoved them down around Ben's ankles. "Now, let's see if I can do this without hurting you," Mr. Harmon said. Ben felt Mr. Harmon's strong fingers pulling his legs apart. One finger pressed against his asshole. Ben wanted Mr. Harmon's fingers in his body. He pressed down. The finger slid inside, making him gasp at the feeling. "Hmm, needs some lube, I think." Mr. Harmon said, twisting his finger in Ben's hole. He pulled away. Ben groaned, but didn't move. He could hear Mr. Harmon fumbling in the cabinet beside the table. After what seemed like hours, Mr. Harmon returned. He pulled Ben's legs up, to rest on his shoulders. His finger pressed against Ben's hole again. This time, it slid in so easily that Ben moaned. He bounced on the table, trying to get the whole finger inside him. Mr. Harmon rewarded him by thrusting the finger in and out. In only a moment, white cream spurted from Ben's dick. He was astonished. Mr. Harmon hadn't even touched his dick. But Mr. Harmon didn't seem to be finished, either. Ben tried to relax, but he was breathing heavily. His heart thudded. He had never gotten this aroused by himself. "I want to fuck you," Mr. Harmon said calmly. Ben stared up in shock at the unaccustomed language from his teacher. His dick started to harden again at the idea. "What do I need to do?" Ben asked. He hadn't even seen Mr. Harmon's dick yet. Hell, he hadn't seen any man's dick up close, though he'd wanted to. "Just lie back and relax. I'm going to grease you up good so it won't hurt as badly. If this is your first time, though, it might hurt a little." "I don't care, Mr. Harmon. I want you to fuck me." Ben felt Mr. Harmon's finger slide in and out of his asshole. Mr. Harmon pushed lube into Ben's hole until it started oozing back out again. Ben wriggled, unable to keep still as his teacher played with his hole. He gasped as Mr. Harmon suddenly pushed a second finger alongside the first. It felt tight at first, then his hole loosened, and it felt good. Very good. Ben pushed down on the fingers, wanting more. Mr. Harmon complied, slipping a third strong finger through the tight hole. Ben groaned. He writhed his hips against the table. His hands clutched at Mr. Harmon's shirt, pulling at his teacher. Ben could hear Mr. Harmon unzipping his trousers. He wanted to look at the dick behind those pants. Mr. Harmon pushed him back onto his back, though. "You'll get to play with it later," Mr. Harmon said. "Right now, it's going up your ass." Ben shivered with delight. Mr. Harmon's fingers slid from his asshole. Then, Ben felt a hard, thick shaft pressing down on his hole. He pushed down, trying to open up for it. He thought he was doing well, then he felt a flash of pain as Mr. Harmon moved forward. He grunted, tears stinging his eyes. "Shhh. It will only hurt for a moment," Mr. Harmon whispered. He suddenly thrust hard, and Ben cried out at the pain. He couldn't breathe. He felt like he'd been split open. Mr. Harmon stopped moving. He leaned close to Ben, his lips on Ben's nipples again. Ben struggled to catch his breath. He felt tears running down his cheeks. Then he became aware of a delicious fullness inside him. His asshole was getting used to Mr. Harmon's dick. He could feel it throbbing inside, stretching him wide open. He moaned softly. Mr. Harmon began to move his hips slowly, gliding his dick out of Ben's hole, then slowly back inside. Ben whimpered. He wanted more. Mr. Harmon kept sucking at his nipples until Ben was ready to scream. He shoved against Mr. Harmon. Suddenly, his teacher pulled away from Ben's chest. He grabbed Ben's legs, pushing Ben down against the table. Now, Ben couldn't have moved, even if he'd wanted to. Mr. Harmon started shoving his dick in and out, rough and hard. His pounding slammed the table against the wall, hammering the cinder block. Ben gasped for breath. The onslaught was nearly more than he could take, but it felt better than anything he'd ever imagined. Ben lost his grip on Mr. Harmon's shirt. His hands roamed aimlessly, just as his eyes looked at nothing. All his attention was centered on his ass, the ass that his teacher was pounding for him. Ben felt rough fabric under his hands, then Mr. Harmon's shirt came loose. Ben buried his fingers in a thick patch of chest hair. He knew there was a stupid grin on his face, but he couldn't stop. This was even more than he'd hoped for. Mr. Harmon was fucking him, right here in the classroom. After what seemed like hours, but seemed all too short at the same time, Mr. Harmon grunted. Ben felt his dick swell inside his hole. Then he felt a jet of hot liquid filling him up. Mr. Harmon growled deep in his chest and shoved hard. His dick slid in and out of Ben's hole. He shot so much cream that it squirted out with each thrust. Ben could feel it running down his ass. Finally, Mr. Harmon relaxed. He kissed Ben once more, very slowly. Then he pulled out. Ben couldn't help but whimper a little. His ass felt raw and stretched. He looked up at his teacher. He still couldn't believe he had really done that. Mr. Harmon reached for a box of tissue and handed a wad of them to Ben. He used another handful to clean his dick. Ben now saw that Mr. Harmon's dick was long and thick, just like he had imagined it would be. He wiped Mr. Harmon's cream from his ass, smiling at the idea of him doing it. "Well, Ben," Mr. Harmon said. "Was that what you wanted?" Ben nodded. "That was fantastic, Mr. Harmon. I've never been this happy in my life." Mr. Harmon frowned. "I guess that means you want me to do it again, then." Ben blushed. He wasn't sure what to say. Mr. Harmon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come over to my house after supper," he said. "Just tell your parents you're getting private lessons." Ben grinned. He knew this was just the beginning of a long and happy relationship with his teacher. (c) 1997 A. Cole