Date: Fri, 02 Oct 2009 11:00:19 -0400
From: hardreader2000@aol.com
Subject: Further Adventures of Justin  & Billy, Chapter 4

The Further Adventures of Justin & Billy
Chapter 4
From Justin's viewpoint

When I left the house that Sunday, I was feeling pretty damn good. I loved
the look on Billy's face when I sprayed him with my wake-up cum. He looked
so cute covered in my jizz.

I thought Billy and I were getting back on the right track. And I sure
liked the feeling that had developed almost over night. We were having fun
again. Not like before. This was something a little different. But it felt
like it was going to be good for us. I had the feeling that not only were
Billy and I best friends and lovers again, but that we were moving in a new
direction. In a way that would allow our love and friendship to grow.

I was feeling confident and secure and sexy. I was on top of the world as I
headed for the studio and a little work on a project that was due later
that week for Professor Allen.

As I drove the short distance to campus, my mind was bouncing all
around. My art project. Sex with Billy. Our night at Phil and Todd's. Did I
say sex with Billy already? And, I have to admit, sex with Phil.

I couldn't get the idea of Phil out of my mind. It had been just sort of an
urge in the background up until now. But as I drove toward my school, it
was taking form. The images becoming clearer in my mind. Phil's perfect
butt. My hard cock ready to drive deep into him. His welcoming smile. The
aching in my nuts. The throbbing in my cock. All just images. In my wild
imagination. But they felt so real.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot, the aching in my nuts and the
throbbing in my cock were all too real. I was so hot and horny and hard. I
was pitching a tent in my jeans even a blind man couldn't miss. Fuck it, I
thought. No one's around to see it. So as I walked into the building lobby,
I had my hand on my cock, gently jerking it through the thick fabric of my
jeans. I love the feel of denim against my hard cock. It's just a little
rough. But so sexy.

I was surprised to see Professor Allen standing there holding two sheets of
drawing paper. Studying them. Comparing them. Then he looked right at
me. And almost as quickly at my crotch. The tent my hard-on was
pitching. My hand conspicuously wrapped around my obvious boner.

I tried to casually take my hand from my cock and put it in my pocket,
thinking that might partially disguise my hard-on. But, if anything, the
attention from Professor Allen was making my cock harder. Making it
longer. Making it strain to stand up straighter. And making it ooze gobs of
pre-cum. Probably creating a big spot on the front of my jeans. There was
no way I could look down to see how bad it was.

I felt completely fucked by this turn of events. Here was the guy who could
make or break me more than anyone else on the faculty and I had just
completely humiliated myself in front of him.

My cheery "Good morning, Professor Allen," sounded lame. Too cheery. Too
much an obvious diversion. I didn't even want to look him in the face. But
I had to.

As I raised my gaze, he was smiling at me. So friendly. Like he was
genuinely happy to see me. "Good morning to you, too, Justin. It looks like
you're morning is off too a good start." I must have looked startled by
that remark. Did he really mean . . . but before I could even think it, he
continued. "I mean," he corrected himself with an innocent sounding chuckle
. . . "off too a good early morning that is."

Was he making a joke about my boner? God, he couldn't be. I'd die. I could
only hope he would pretend he'd never seen it and life could go on. I had
no idea how enlightened he might be. But he was teaching art at this
level. Mine couldn't be the first boner he ever saw on a student.

Nothing more was said as we both headed in toward the studio area. Why did
he have to be there that morning? Why did I walk into a classroom building,
even on a Sunday morning, holding my hard cock in my hand? Was I crazy?

I went to my area and sat at my drawing table. I pulled my sketchpad out
and stared at a blank page. Professor Allen went into his office just a
short distance away. I was still rock hard and I could now see that the
spot from my leaky dick was all too obvious, just as I had feared.

I mindlessly started to draw a sketch of Billy. A variation of one I had
done dozens of times. Billy lying on his back. Naked. Hard. Cock thrusting
up and out. Cum pooling on his abs. Cum still dripping from his dick.

I guess I had been hastily working on this elaborate doodle when I felt a
hand on my shoulder. Oh my god! I jumped damn near off of my stool.

How had I not heard him come out of his office? How did I not see him walk
over, around and behind me? How could I explain this drawing of my
boyfriend in the afterglow of blowing a huge load on his abs?

I was truly fucked.

"Now I can see what had you all worked up when you walked in this
morning. It's a very . . ." he cleared his throat and tried to sound
professorial . . . "artistically interesting piece. But not really
appropriate for your current assignment. I take it that you came in to work
on your project assignment."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Don't know what I was thinking, sir."

"Don't apologize," he said. I noticed he hadn't taken his hand from my
shoulder. "It's a beautiful drawing. Nice composition. Lovely detail . . ."
He paused as though picking just the right words. "But I suspect there may
be some people . . . faculty . . . even students. . . . Anyway, some people
who might not appreciate it . . . as art . . . as I can. And I do."

His hand tightened on my shoulder in a friendly way. Almost like a little
massage. A secret message.

"I'll put it away," I said and reached out to close my sketchpad.

"No, let me look at it a moment," he said almost languidly. He picked it up
and studied it closely. "It's very nice indeed" He held it to the natural
light flooding in the windows. "He's a very handsome young man. He makes a
spectacular model. He's your boyfriend, isn't he?"

I was so stunned by this I was silent for a moment. Before I could think
how to answer, Professor Allen injected, "Or is he just a friend. I didn't
mean to . . ." His words tailed off.

"How did you know," I said. Puzzled and truly wanting to know how he could
recognize that the person I was drawing was my boyfriend.

"Oh, I've seen him pick you up and drop you off some days. I figured you
must be roommates or . . . Well, enough said on that subject."

So he hadn't really known. But now, thanks to my answer, he did, of
course. This day was not going well.

"I better get working on my project," I said and flipped my sketch pad to a
blank page. As I did I couldn't help but notice Professor Allen's crotch
just above it. I couldn't be mistaken. He was the one sporting wood
now. The perv. He was getting off on giving me a hard time.

He might be an older guy, but I had to admit that from the first time I'd
seen him I'd appreciated how he still kept himself in shape. Slim
hips. Nice shoulders. I could never see that much because of the way he
usually dressed. But for a guy who must be at least 27 or 28, he was in
good shape. And apparently, from what was showing in his pants just then,
hung as well as he was put together. Lucky Mrs. Allen, I thought. To my
surprise, my cock tingled and started to stiffen again as I took in the
growing bulge before me.

"Stop in to see me before you leave today. I'm sure I'll still be here
grading the seniors' latest projects," he said. And with that, I tried to
pull my head together and get some real work done.

* * * * *

I worked for about two hours and got a surprising amount accomplished. I
liked the way my sketches were coming together and the events earlier with
Professor Allen were quickly fading in importance.

I closed up my sketchpad and walked over to the professor's doorway and
tapped gently. I could see him studying a group of sketches or drawings on
the large table that served as his desk and primary workspace.

"You asked me to stop in before I left," I said, reminding him why I was
there.

"Of course, step in, please, Justin."

As I did, I noticed his hand go to his crotch and . . . he was adjusting
himself. Or playing with himself. Maybe trying to hide the fact that he was
hard. Again. I wasn't sure. I couldn't really see his crotch from where I
stood, but images of seeing his hard-on bulging in his pants earlier this
morning was fueling the images in my mind.

Fuck! Now I was getting hard. And standing right in front of him with no
way to hide my fast-rising cock. I decided I'd just ignore it and hope it
settled down. Fat chance, I thought.

Professor Allen cleared his throat and studied me standing there, Studied
me as he might a person applying to be a model for one of his
classes. Maybe he was undressing me in his mind. If so, there would be
plenty for him to see beneath my jeans. Nine inches of cock. Getting hard
too fast for my comfort.

"I've been thinking about the sketch of your friend I saw you drawing
earlier. I take it you like to draw the human form . . . as God created
it." He paused. Obviously expecting an answer. An answer I didn't want to
give just then. I could feel my cock get stiffer. I just hoped it didn't
start leaking.

"Sometimes. I suppose. But I like drawing a lot of different things."

"But the human body, the male form, is one of your favorites? Perhaps?" He
both said and asked.

"I guess so," I said sheepishly. Just wanting to leave.

"I don't know whether you realize it or not, but the male form is one of my
special areas of interest."

I stood mute. Hard. Speechless.

"If you don't mind, I'd love to see more of your work. Maybe you could
bring some samples next Sunday. Perhaps I could help you out with your
technique. I'd love to see what you've done. I can only imagine what you're
capable of."

He was staring right at my hard cock. The tent pitched in my jeans. The
growing wet spot. Why the fuck did I have to go commando.

"Would you do that for me? If you have some time today . . . right now
. . . I might be able to show you a thing or two. You seem to have a lot of
interesting thoughts and like working hard. So do I," he said and, I swear,
he groped himself. So obvious.

I didn't say anything. My mind was in complete confusion. He was coming on
to me. I just stared at him. Maybe not. A second ago I was sure of it. Now
he was standing there innocently before me. I couldn't see a trace of his
cock. He looked . . . like any other teacher.

Maybe it was all in my mind. Too much time thinking about Billy. And
Phil. And Todd, too.

"Not today, I'm afraid," I said at last.

"Then next Sunday? Is it a date?"

"Yeah. Sure," I said, just wanting to get out of there. And a few minutes
later I was driving home to Billy. Trying to think what I could say. Was it
all in my mind? I had a hard time thinking of Professor Allen as a perv.

But as I drove, I also had a hard time getting rid of that image of his
hard cock pressing against his slacks. I was getting hard again. Really
hard!

Finally I decided I'd call Phil and bounce it off him. He knew me and
Professor Allen well enough to have an informed opinion. I laid it all out
as best I could. Trying not to blow anything out of proportion, but not
leaving anything out either.

When I was done, there was a long pause and then Phil finally said, "I
would love to have been there to see you stroking your hard cock through
your jeans in front of Allen."

We bantered back and forth about bits and pieces of what I'd told him and
then Phil asked, "So does he have a big one when it's hard? I kind of
figured he did. I think he tries to hide it in those pleated pants he wears
for class."

When we were done talking, the most constructive thing Phil had said was,
"The guy could hold your future in the palm of his hands. A few good words
from him to the right people and you can make it as an artist, or
photographer, or whatever you want. The guy can open doors. So if he's
flirting or not, what you're doing is working. And it's working well. Man,
you've got a private coaching session. I'd just keep on doing what you're
doing."

It sounded like good advice. And while in some ways it seemed kind of
creepy to be thinking about doing shit with a teacher who was probably
almost 10 years older than me. Professor Allen really was a hot looking
guy. It wasn't like I'd never noticed him. If he were my age, I'd say he
was damn hot.

When I got home, my mind was twisting again about how I was going to tell
all this to Billy. What was I going to tell him? With the state of mind
he'd been in, he'd probably say I wanted to fuck Professor Allen.

To be honest, I wouldn't mind seeing what the prof had in his pants, but
Billy would blow that all out of proportion. I'd have to tread lightly.

As soon as I walked in the door, I was greeted by a cool reception. A
slightly accusatory, "Where have you been all this time?" from Billy.

"I stayed a little late to talk to Professor Allen," I said, trying really
hard not to sound defensive.

"Whatever you say," Billy countered.

And the conversation slid downhill from there. The more he had thought
about what I had said at breakfast yesterday, the more he was pissed. We
talked for a while, but we weren't getting anywhere.

He didn't want anything to change. I thought it needed to. Finally, to keep
some peace and hopefully create an environment in which we might talk about
this constructively some day soon, I caved.

I said it would be fine with me if we left things the way they were. As
long as that included sex . . . lots and lots of sex . . . between the two
of us. And, when we both agreed, we could mess around with other guys the
way we always had. Like with Ted. Or Greg and Alex. Or, of course, Phil and
Todd.

No fucking in front of other guys. No getting into it with other guys on
our own. Only together.

It was agreed. Billy wanted the agreement sealed with a fuck. And he wanted
to do the fucking for a change.

As we climbed naked and hard onto our bed, I could feel Billy's anger and
frustration. I asked him how he wanted me and he said "doggy style. Doing
it like two fucking dogs in heat."

I reached over to the side table to get some lube, because I was pretty
sure I was gonna need a lot of it. But before I could reach it, Billy
grabbed my hips and pulled me back toward him.

He spit on his hand and before I really knew what was happening he was
shoving a finger up my ass. And before I'd really fully adjusted to one, he
was using two. I started to object, but before the words left my mouth,
something deep inside me, something a lot closer to my ass than my brain,
told me to shut up. I was starting to enjoy being roughed up a little. This
was so unlike any sex we'd had. Billy really was usually a caring
lover. But not that afternoon.

Billy thrust his hard cock deep and fast. But my ass, for whatever reason,
was ready for that. Ready for a hard pounding. Maybe it was from all the
sex we'd been having. Maybe it was because I thought in some way I deserved
this. Maybe . . . Maybe it was because it was how I wanted Phil to fuck
me. Had imagined he would fuck me.

Or maybe it was Professor Allen I imagined . . .

There were getting to be too many possibilities in my life.

Billy was pounding my ass, plunging into me with his big, thick, hard cock
There was no talk from Billy. No feeling. No sentiment. Just pure, hard,
pounding, sweaty sex between two guys. He was like a stranger. Almost
raping my ass.

And I was like a willing slut, happy to give up my ass to this guy just to
keep the peace.

After five, six, hell, maybe 10 minutes, Billy finally flipped me over on
my back and started fucking me hard all over again. His face showed no
emotion. No pleasure. No anger. No joy. Certainly no love.

For the first time since he pulled me back by my hips and started fucking
me, I knew this wasn't good. Wasn't right. But at the same time, having
Billy fucking me with such force and mindless lust was in a way a new
turn-on for me. I let our sex just run its course.

I told myself I would be happy. My boyfriend really did care a lot for
me. Loved me. And I loved him. We had our differences, but we'd get around
those. This was just a momentary thing. A one-time step toward something
better. We'd find what we seemed to have lost. I promised that to myself as
Billy ground his cock deep inside me.

Then my nuts started to pull up tight and I could feel that first sense of
my orgasm to come. It was deep within me. But so powerful. The need for
release. The need to be fucked. Raw need. Lust. Passion. Heat. Sweat. And
soon, cum. Lots of fucking cum. Spewing from Billy's cock deep within me. I
was ready. I was willing.

For now, I finally had cleared my mind of all this shit about limits and
boyfriends and rules and lovers. I just wanted to enjoy a good ass fucking.

* * * *

It was a wild ride of sex from bedroom to kitchen to . . .

Two hours later, we were both awash in cum. We'd each gotten off at least
twice, I think. Now we were lying naked and covered in cum in our backyard,
where I had just finished fucking Billy's ass. Hopefully with a little more
love and caring than he'd shown mine.

I was gonna be walking funny for days after that pounding he gave me.

But at least we had released a lot of the tension that seemed to keep
welling up between us. Billy and I were holding each other in our arms. Our
faces resting on each other's necks. Billy lifted his head and kissed
me. Gently at first. Then more passionately.

"I'm sorry," he said. It was so sincere. I wanted to cry. "I hope I didn't
hurt you. I really do love you. You just make me so fucking mad
sometimes. But I'm trying to understand. This is hard. And we need more
time."

We were OK. Or gonna be OK. I was sure of it, hearing Billy's words. Before
long I fell asleep trying to count up how many times I had cum since
getting home from school Friday evening. It had been one amazing weekend.

To be continued . . .

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, guys, I hope you liked that chapter. Write and tell me
what you're thinking, or even just whether it got you off. Believe me,
Billy really wants to know when you get off on the story. And I don't mind
it either. So speak up either way.

This is the second book in the "I Thought I Knew" series. It is not
necessary to read the books in order, although Book 1 chronologically
precedes this book. It can be found under the title "I Thought I Knew" in
the High School section. /nifty/gay/highschool/i-thought-i-knew/

The characters in this project are real. The names and some other
identifying information in this story have been changed to conceal the
identities of the characters described. The Copyright for this story is
held by Hardreader. The story may not be reprinted or distributed elsewhere
in print, electronically or digitally without the permission of the
author. I would love to receive comments on this story from readers.  Email
me at hardreader2000@aol.com

While you're waiting for the next episode, I hope you'll stay happy. And
stay hard! -- H.R.