Date: Mon, 29 Jan 2007 14:50:48 -0700
From: Joseph Farrin <bigblaise@hotmail.com>
Subject: Yet Another Teacher - 2

0nce we were in bed he really started making love.  He
wrapped his arms around me kissed me, took my hand
and wrapped it around his shaft, and kept rubbing his
body up and down against mine.  He had me so fucking
hot I was about to explode when he said, "Joey, I want to
fuck you!"

I couldn't believe what he'd said and replied, "Huh?" as
though I either hadn't heard or hadn't understood.

"You know, I want to stick my cock inside you and fuck
you like I'd fuck a girl."

"Have you ever fucked a girl?"

"No but all it takes is sticking your dick in and pumping it
in and out."

"Stick it where?"

"In your bottom."

"Will it hurt?"

"I've been told it does, especially the first time, but then
you'll get to like it.  It's the other kind of male love I was
telling you about.  I guess if I rubbed lard on my cock it
might make it hurt less."

"That sounds too messy.  If it hurts will you stop?"

"You know I would.  I don't want to hurt you."

He put me on my back, lifted my legs and told me to hold
them up.  He slowly began to push his cock inside me,
which was sort of OK, as he stopped often enough for me
to get somewhat comfortable with having it inside me and
I liked raising my head and looking down and watching it
going into my body. Finally he got it all in.  It felt like it was
twice the length and thickness that it really was and it hurt
like the devil.

"Wrap you legs around me, Joey.  So far, you're doing
great!"

"So far" was right.  When he began fucking me, I asked
him to stop.  He didn't.  I started crying and asked again.
He said, "I can't, I'm cuming!" He really was, I could feel
his cock climaxing in my body.  It still hurt, I was still
crying but, at the same time, I realized it was probably the
ultimate intimacy that could possibly occur between a
man and a boy. He leaned over, practically crushing me,
locked me into a kiss and then said, "Jesus, Joey, I'm so
sorry.  Can you ever forgive me?"

I couldn't stop crying and he kept telling me how sorry he
was, why he shouldn't have done it after he'd been
drinking.  Finally I managed to reply, "Terry, it really did
hurt, but I know it excited you and having sex with you
has become very important to me these past two weeks.
If you liked doing it, there's nothing to forgive.  I want you
to do it again.  I'll get used to it.

It was Terry's turn to cry.  "Joey, in two weeks, we've
come full circle, from experimenting with sex all the way
to love.  I didn't mean to but I've fallen in love with you."

"I glad, Terry.  I love you, too, and it's the nicest, warmest
feeling I've ever had.

"It really is, Joey.  It really is and especially on a cold,
November night."

"Terry, don't blow out the candle.  Just face me and throw
an arm and leg over me and put your head next to mine.

He did, and, believe it or not, we actually made the
Presbyterian Church service.  I was so proud being seen
with Terry; especially when he introduced me to people
he knew and told them I was staying with him for three
weeks and explained why.  There weren't many 12-year-
old boys that got to stay with their teacher for three
weeks.  It was especially enjoyable because they all lived
in identical houses and had to know "staying with"
probably also meant "sleeping with". I loved watching the
expression on some of their faces.

The last week with Terry seemed to pass quicker than the
first two.  Every day he was leaning over me from the
back of my seat to look at my homework and I was
pushing my head back into his crotch and he was
noticeable harder.  I guess to make up for his fucking me;
he always let me choose what I wanted to do.  I varied my
choices from sucking him, to 69 and getting fucked.
Sometimes I was just hot to jack him off so I could watch
him harden and shoot his load out of his piss slit.  He was
noticeably hornier, too.  When he'd take his pants off his
cock would already be sticking out between the bottom
buttons of his long underwear. We always did something
at night in bed, too, including a lot more talking.  He kept
telling me how much he loved me, as if I doubted that he
did.

At night in bed, we also laid plans for what would happen
when my mom returned and decided that he'd pop over to
my house everyday after school and help me carry in coal
and chop kindling wood to get a fire started, which would
leave time for me to go to his house for love making.

When my mom came home she explained that her father
was going to sell his house and move into a small
apartment so the things he gave her amounted to far
more than she'd originally imagined.  I had to get my red
wagon out of the shed and take it to the post office to
carry the almost daily boxes home.

In return for Terry taking care of me for three weeks, she
gave him a lot of glassware, dishes, cookware, some nice
blankets and bed linen and heavy towels. He was sort of
overwhelmed; so one Saturday while mom was at work
he installed the same wire mold and light fixtures in our
house as he'd done in his.  He even bought a floor lamp,
not the same, but a similar one that he found in the Sears
Roebuck catalogue.

Mom invited him for dinner on Thanksgiving and knit two
sweaters, one a slip over with long sleeves and one that
was like a vest, no arms and buttons in front, as a
Christmas present.  She knit me one with no arms and
buttons down the front.  They were great for wearing in
school and we both wore them all the time.  The kids
probably thought we'd bought them at the same store.
Terry went home for the Christmas – New Year's
vacation. I about died while he was gone, but we made up
for lost time when he returned. It made me wonder how
I'd possibly get along without him during summer
vacation.  It was somewhat mitigated when he told me the
school board wanted him to stay on for another year.

The really good news, though, was when he told me that
after his second year in Martinsville, he was going to
teach high school in Colton, and by that time I'd be there,
too.  I asked him where he'd live and he replied in the
same place – he didn't want to move and the school
board agreed to his terms.

My mom was no dummy because she realized that Terry
and I had bonded and she approved saying I needed a
father figure in my life.  Consequently, she began letting
me spend Friday evenings and all day Saturdays at his
house.  We'd go to talkies at the movie theater in Bailey
and always sat at the back of the bus on the way home.

Getting fucked no longer hurt, even on the occasional
times when Drew Carlton knocked at the door and pulled
a bottle of whiskey out of his jacket pocket. I knew that
despite Terry's repentance over the first time he fucked
me when he got drunk, that it would happen again.  So,
I'd get the two little black and white pamphlets out of his
trunk and read them while sitting under the new floor
lamp.

Then, when Drew left and Terry got into bed, I'd fantasize
about my role, picturing myself as the cunt that was
getting fucked in the ass.  And while he was fucking me,
I'd imagine I was the girl he'd never fucked, sometimes I'd
think of myself as his newly wed bride on our honeymoon.
That wasn't as far fetched as you might think – when he'd
been drinking he was really eager and his cock was
strong but it took him longer to climax and he was mushy
in his verbal lovemaking after he did.  I'd even stopped
replying and just listened because I enjoyed listening to
him so much, realizing he was saying things that he really
felt, but wouldn't say if he was sober.

One Saturday night, they were both on their way to
getting drunk but Drew made it before Terry did. A wind
had come up and snow was predicted, so Terry said, "I
don't think we should let Drew chance walking down hill
alone a half mile to Colton."  So we undressed him down
to his long underwear and put him to bed next to the table
with the candle.  We stayed up a half hour longer talking
and got ready for bed ourselves.  We moved the candle
across the room, so Drew wouldn't accidentally knock it
over.  I slept in the middle and Terry got in next to the
wall.  Terry was on the opposite side of me than usual but
he still slung an arm and a leg over me and put his head
against my neck.

During the night he and I shifted positions as we
sometimes did and which I became aware of in a semi-
awake mode. We were back to back. You can probably
guessed what I did, knowing me.  Terry hadn't fucked me
and I had neither sucked him nor jacked him off and I was
horny, I needed to play with a man cock.

I made a slow, exploratory move by reaching around
Drew and placing my hand atop his crotch.  I found what I
had hoped and wanted to find. Feeling his cock through
his underwear, it felt large but still soft.  He didn't move,
so I very carefully unbuttoned the bottom three buttons of
his long johns and lifted his cock out.  It was now entirely
free to play with. All the time I was prepared to roll over
on my back if he as much as moved an inch or uttered a
sound.  In fact I moved my hand away but left my arm
over him for a few minutes before continuing. When I
again felt it I knew he was about the same size as Terry,
but, like me, he hadn't been circumcised. I skinned it back
and paused, listened to his breathing and he didn't move.

I was afraid to jack it, so I just kept feeling it, squeezing it,
stopping and waiting again to see if he'd move, which he
didn't. I was about to chance stroking it when it hardened
but after two strokes his cum started spitting out of his
piss slit.  I rolled over and threw an arm around Terry. I
couldn't get back to sleep so I just remained still. I would
have liked to masturbate, but I was afraid to, not knowing
how I'd explain pecker tracks on my underwear or the
bottom sheet.  If Drew left pecker tracks, and Terry
quizzed me about them, I'd say he must have had a wet
dream – or, as Terry called it, a nocturnal emission.

Luckily I was up and out the door before either of them
woke up.  I went home, the wind had died down and it
hadn't snowed, so my mom and I got ready to go to the
9'oclock Mass.

After that, Drew kept looking at me when he came over;
maybe he knew, maybe he didn't. Maybe he just kind of
liked me.  I eventually found out.

He and three other male teachers from the Colton high
school were spending the summer, earning extra money
by painting some of the classrooms, cleaning  and
varnishing the wood floors, that sort of stuff, because
Colton's one and only painting contractor had gone
elsewhere.  I met him in the grocery store/post office one
Saturday morning and he began visiting with me – had I
heard from Terry – he bet I missed him – that sort of stuff.
Then he surprised me by asking if I wanted to stop at his
house saying it was on the road back to Martinsville and
he'd make some Kool-Aid. It came in packages in
different flavors and you mixed it with sugar and water to
make a soft drink.  I liked it even though he didn't have ice
to make it cold.

Sitting at his kitchen table, sideways so we could look at
each other I noticed he had an erection.  I guessed I
looked at it too long because he said, "Do you want that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean!"  As he said it, he unbuttoned his
pants and took it out.

"Go down on it Joey!"  Terry had never used those words
but I knew what he meant and knelt on the floor between
his legs.  He unbuckled his pants and pulled them, along
with his summer shorts down to the floor.  I skinned back
the foreskin off his cockhead and "went down on it" using
his expression. He seemed to really need it and I sure did
because Terry had been gone for three weeks and I was
dying.  Then he asked, "Do you swallow?"  I shook my
head and had just got to going good when his urinary
tube enlarged and harden.  I knew what that meant by
now and got ready to swallow his "love juice", another of
Terry's terms.

TO BE CONTINUED -- I hope you are enjoying the story.