Date: Sun, 1 Aug 2004 23:20:45 EDT
From: daddy2maggie@aol.com
Subject: Professor Baker

I am a college professor.  The following is an account of my experience with
a young student.  It involves sexuality and is intended for a limited audience
of those who enjoy such erotica.  If you are under the age of 18, do not wish
to view such material, or it is illegal, for whatever reason, for you to view
such material, please exit now.


Professor Baker


I am Dr. Benjamin Baker, professor of English at a large college which is
located on a large lake in New England.  I am 45, 6'4", 210 lb.  I have short,
salt and pepper hair and am clean-shaven.  I am in good shape, playing hockey in
the winter on a recreational team, and playing tennis in the summer.  I go to
the gym daily to stay toned.  I have a beautiful home, which is on the other
side of the lake, facing the water, about 3 miles away from the college.

10 years ago, my wife, Beverly, and 15 year-old son, Tommy, were killed in an
automobile accident, which left the house very empty.  It took me a good 5
years to heal from the trauma.  I would function at work, then go home to an
empty house.  Friends and family had suggested I sell the house and move into
something smaller.  Others thought it was time for me to start dating.  Still
others suggested I rent out a room so there would be someone else in the house.
I didn't want to move, and I wasn't looking for a date, but the thought of not
being all alone in that big house sounded rather nice, although I knew it
would mean a serious change in lifestyle.

I decided to seek out a male college student who needed a place to live near
the college, and who would be around for a few years.  After all, I didn't
want to go through this once a semester.  In return for his taking care of house
(dusting, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, laundry, etc.) he would get free
room and board.  Sounded like a pretty good deal to me, so I asked around the
department, wondering if any of the professors had any "A" students whom they
thought would be a good fit.  My buddy, John Cook, introduced me to Sean, a
redheaded young Irish fellow, and the two of us hit it off really well.  Sean was
with me for 3 1/2 years, and was not only great at laundry and cleaning, but
was a heck of a cook.  That boy will make some lucky girl a terrific wife.
LOL  I was truly sad to see Sean go.  We had become really close.  He was an
excellent student, and a polite, all around terrific guy.

I didn't think getting another tenant would be such a great idea, since I
didn't feel anyone would live up to Sean.  But in the middle of the next
semester, my life would change for ever because of a young man I invited to share my
home.  His name is Noah.  He was in my English comp. class.  I didn't usually
teach this freshman course, but the grad. student they had selected to teach it
had fallen off a ladder while painting someone's house during the summer, and
still wasn't mobile.  The dept. chair came to me, and I caved.  At any rate,
this is where I met Noah.  Noah is a cute, compact blond fellow, about 5'6",
130 lb. with stunning, blue eyes.  His hair bleaches in the sun, and coming off
the summer break, he was mighty blond.  He sat right in the front row of my
class.

Noah had begun the semester great guns.  He scored an "A" on his first
prelim, and had done very well on his first 2 compositions.

"Looks can be deceiving," I thought.

As the semester progressed, Simon seemed to be slacking.  I reached out to
him, and asked him to meet me in my office.  We agreed on a time, and he met me
there.  He was nervous.  He needn't have been.  I wanted to help.  Most
professors don't much care about individual students.  This one was different.
Simon was special, and I was about to find out why.

"Simon, come in," I invited, "and have a seat."

Entering tentatively, Simon responded, "Thank you, sir."

I reached my hand across my desk.  He leaned forward and grasped it firmly.

"Sit, please," I instructed, pointing at the chair behind him.

"Thank you, Dr. Baker," he said, slowing lowering his butt into the chair.

Looking into those handsome blue eyes, I inquired, "What seems to be
happening with your school work?  You did so well during the first month.  Since then,
you've gone steadily downhill."

"I am sorry, sir," Simon reacted nervously.

"Is mine the only course you're doing poorly in, son?" I continued.

"No, sir," he admitted.  "I'm not doing very well at all."

"Well," I nodded, "I know you're not stupid, because you proved your
intelligence to me at the beginning of the semester.  I'm guessing there's something
pretty seriously wrong going on with you.  Am I right?"

Simon crashed.  He began to weep.  My eyes must have bolted from their
sockets.  My chin nearly hit my desktop.

"Son, what is the matter?" I said sincerely, if not intrigued.

"You won't understand, Dr. Baker," Simon sobbed.

"Try me," I encouraged.

"The dorm," he began, "it's a nightmare."

"In what way?" I wanted to know.

"They've roomed me with a psycho," he revealed.  "He gets high every night,
and it makes him really mean.  He has a hunting knife.  He's threatened me with
it."

"Good Lord, Simon," I said, in shock.  "Have you told your R. A. or RD about
it?"

"He's threatened me that if I tell anyone he'll kill me in my sleep," Simon
whispered.  "I believe it, too.  I haven't slept since the first week I got
here."

"Well, that would explain the grades dropping," I said to myself.  "But
Simon, you're paying good money for a safe place to live.  You have to tell
someone."

"I am," he said innocently, looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes.

Then, as though a light bulb had lit over my head, like in the comics, I
stood up and said, "How would you like to move in with me?"

"What?" he asked with a rather high-pitched squeak.

"Listen, Simon," I informed him, "I have an extra room that I've had a
student living in for about 4 years.  He moved out in May, and well, the house is a
little empty without him there.  I would be willing to cut you the same deal I
cut him."

"I would love to get out of that dorm," Simon admitted, leaning forward, "but
what kind of deal?"

"Well," I told him in my most professorlike tone, "in exchange for room and
board, I would ask that you take care of the house cleaning, including
vacuuming, dusting, laundry, that sort of thing, and if you can cook, that would be a
great thing."

"Well, Dr. Baker," Simon explained, "when I was in Jr. High, my mom was
diagnosed with cancer.  She decided she needed to teach me and my dad how to do all
that stuff, so we could fend for ourselves, just in case."

He looked at the floor, and tears started to well up again.  I stood and
walked around my desk to him, knelt down next to him and wrapped my arm around his
shoulders.

"She died in the middle of my freshman year," he sniffled.

"You and your dad have been taking care of one another since, I guess, huh?"
I suggested.

"Dad wasn't very good at any of the household stuff, so that all pretty much
fell on me," Simon told me, "but he wanted a clean house and a decent meal.  I
did okay."

"Did you enjoy doing that stuff?" I wondered.

"Yes, actually," Simon said affirmatively.  "When I was doing that stuff, I
would think of my mom, and kinda have a chat with her.  Sounds nuts, huh?"

"Not a bit," I assured him.  "Are you interested?"

"When?"  Simon inquired.

"Now," I responded.  "We need to get you out of there now."

Simon went back to his dorm and packed up a few things.  I told him we would
come for the rest of his stuff over the weekend.  In the meantime, not only
would we be in touch with the resident director of the dorm, but we would also
be in touch with the police to take care of that idiot room mate of his.  Simon
met me back at my office about an hour later.

As we drove around the lake in my car, Simon commented on how beautiful the
town is.  I, of course agreed, having grown up there.

"Do you have much homework tonight?" I quizzed him.

"Are you going to ask me that every night?" he joked.

"Probably," I admitted.

We laughed.

As we pulled into the driveway, Simon's eyes popped wide open.

"You live HERE?" he asked with surprise.

"Yes," I announced, "and now, so do you, son."

I ushered my new house mate into the kitchen, dropping his bag by the door.

"We should probably get something to eat, don't you think?" I asked.

"Would you like me to whip something up for us, Dr. Baker," Simon wondered.

"No, Simon," I laughed.  "I was thinking we'd order a pizza tonight."

"No, please," Simon begged, swinging the refrigerator door open, "let's see
what you have in here."

Simon checked all the shelves and the compartments.  I had a frozen pie crust
in the freezer, some eggs, some cold cuts, and some broccoli, which this
kitchen-whiz whipped up into a terrific quiche.  I wasn't even aware that I had
the ingredients around to do such a thing.

During dinner, Simon told me about his upbringing, and that he loved to play
tennis, which was something we had in common.  He also told me he has always
sung in his church choir, and that he played the trumpet in the college
orchestra.

"Wow," I spouted, "they only have 2 trumpets in the orchestra.  You must have
had some competition."

"They narrowed it down to 4 of us," he explained, "then they picked me and
Billy."

"Oy!" I exclaimed.  "Billy and I."

"Sorry," Simon snickered.

I reached over to him, ruffled his hair, then stood up and took my dishes to
the dishwasher.  Simon followed, doing the same.

"Well," I sighed, "would you like to see your new room?"

"Sure," he responded, enthusiastically.

I led him up the stairs and down the hallway to what was once my Tommy's
bedroom, then later, Sean's, and now Simon's.  I explained everything to Simon as
he unpacked.  He promised me that he would make me as proud as both Tommy and
Sean had.  I was very moved.

Over the next few weeks, we really began to enjoy each other's company.  He
could iron a shirt far better than I.  Ironing was not Sean's strongest suit,
so it was nice to have someone there who was good at it.

One other thing I really loved about Simon was that he wasn't modest.  I made
it clear to him that when I came home at night, and knew I didn't have to go
out again that evening, I would take my clothes off and hang around in my
underwear.  I informed him that he may feel free to do the same.  Sean had done so
regularly.

"I hate clothes, Dr. Baker," Simon confessed, grabbing at his belt buckle.

This surprised me, since Simon was always impeccably dressed.  He told me he
likes to look nice, but would sooner be in his skivvies.  And skivvies it was.
 He wore regular old tighty-whiteys, which fit his sweet, bubble butt very
nicely.  There wasn't much of a bulge in front, but hey, who knew how big it
would get under certain circumstances?

Simon bent down to pick his pants up off the floor, flashing that jock booty
at me.

"Oh, sorry," he apologized.  "Pardon my back."

"Not a problem," I grinned, heading off to my room.

Over the remainder of the semester we became very close.  Simon would ask me
for help with his assignments, which I really missed since Tommy died.  Simon
actually taught me how to cook a few things.  And when I had the time, I would
help him with the housework, both of us running around the house in our
underwear, he in his briefs, I in my boxers.

Happy to tell, Simon pulled his act back together, and got straight "A's" his
first semester.  He went home to spend Christmas with his dad, but told me he
couldn't wait to get back for the spring semester.

On Christmas Eve, I had gone to a party, then to Midnight Mass.  I came home,
and got into bed, very lonely.  The next morning, I woke up to the phone
ringing.

"Hello?" I croaked in my first-thing-in-the-morning voice.

"Merry Christmas!" a far too cheery voice sang from the other end.  "It's
Simon!"

I sat up straight.  "Simon," I nearly shrieked, "Merry Christmas, son.  How
are things with dad?"

"Just fine, Dr. Baker," Simon told me, "but it's pretty dull here.  Say, my
dad wants to speak with you."

"Put him on," I instructed him.

"Hello, Dr. Baker," said a very deep, soothing voice.

"Hello," I responded, "Mr. Edwards?"

"Phil, please," he encouraged.

"Then I'm Ben to you," I insisted.

"Thank you, Ben," he said, gratefully.  "I wanted to also thank you for what
you've done for my son.  He didn't tell me about his nightmare in the dorm
until he came home for Christmas.  He tells me you practically saved his life,
and for that I am eternally grateful."

"It was a pretty nasty situation in the dorm," I admitted.  "But I'm
delighted he agreed to move in.  I think it's been a good thing for both of us."

"It sure sounds that way," Phil agreed.  "I know I will sleep better knowing
exactly where he is and with whom he is."

"He is safe here, Phil," I promised him.  "And make sure you come down and
spend some time with us."

"Well, actually," Phil went on, "it's a pretty long haul from here to the
school, and I really can't do a round-trip in one day, so I was wondering if,
when I bring Simon back to school, I could..."

"Say no more, Phil," I interrupted.  "The guest room will be waiting."

"That's great!" Phil exclaimed. "Then I'll see you in a few weeks."

After hanging up, those few weeks seemed like an eternity.  But the day
finally arrived.  They pulled up in an SUV.  I went out to the driveway to greet
them, dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans.

"Dr. Baker!" Simon yelled as he ran to me, arms outstretched.  He grabbed me
around the neck and jumped up onto me, wrapping his legs around my waist.  He
was as light as a feather.  I squeezed him back.  "Gee, I've missed you, Dr.
Baker."

"I've missed you, too, Simon," I smiled.

Jumping down, Simon acknowledged, "Dr. Baker, this is my dad."

There was this lumberjack of a man, with possibly the most handsome face I'd
ever seen.  He was the antithesis of his son.  I figured Simon must have taken
after the mother's side of the family.  Phil was about my height, at 6'4",
and I figured he had to weigh in at about 250 lb. or so.  He, too, had salt and
pepper hair, but his was longer, and more wavy than mine.  His chest was huge.
 I wanted to bury my face in it, but resisted the temptation.

"Phil Edwards," he grinned, hand outstretched.

"Ben Baker," I responded, pumping his hand up and down.  "Very pleased to
meet you."

"Likewise," he agreed.

"C'mon in," I invited, "and get out of the cold."

We entered the house and got started on dinner.  While Simon slaved in the
kitchen, Phil and I got aquatinted in the den.  We shared our histories with one
another, realizing how much we had in common, not the least of which was
Simon.  It was evident that Simon and his dad were very close.  I figured that if
I missed Simon when he was away for a month, his dad must be terribly lonely
without him.

"So, my son tells me you have a pretty casual place here," Phil grinned,
swishing the red wine around in his glass.

"Well......." I paused...

"Not to worry, Ben," Phil chortled.  "Simon has been a little nudist since he
was a kid."

"Dad!" Simon interjected.  "I can't believe you told him that.  Anyway,
dinner's ready."

As we entered the kitchen, Phil had his hand on my shoulder, which, I must
admit, was pretty distracting.

"Here, Phil," I pointed, "sit right here, next to me.  Simon sits over there."

We all laughed and had a great time during dinner, after which, we helped
Simon clean up.  Once clean up was accomplished, we headed up the stairs to show
Phil to his room.

"Well," I offered, "the hotel is full for the first time in quite a while."

Stopping off at the first room at the top of the stairs, Simon chimed,
"Here's your room, dad.  And there's your bathroom, which connects though there to
Dr. Baker's room."

"I won't be disturbing you, sharing a bathroom, will I, Ben?" Phil very
kindly inquired.

"Not a bit," I assured him, thinking it would be a treat to get a glimpse of
him getting into or out of the shower.  "In fact, let me get you some towels
while I'm thinking of it."

Upon returning to Phil's room with a set of ivory-colored towels, I
interrupted Phil and Simon in an embrace.  I had to choke back tears.

"Ah, here you go, Phil," I said, handing him the towels.  "Fresh from the
laundry."

"Thanks so much, Ben," Phil thanked me, for about the hundredth time.

After another hour or so, we all decided it was time to retire.  As I was
walking passed Simon's room, toward my own, I spied him slipping his briefs off
his smooth butt, then climbing between the sheets and snapping his light off.
That sweet boybutt was all I could think about for the next hour.  I was so
hard.  I got into bed and started stroking my erection slowly.  Soon thereafter,
I heard rustling in the bathroom that connects my room to the guest room.  I
thought this might be my opportunity to catch a glimpse of Phil in some state
of undress, so I snuck out of bed and tiptoed to the door in my underwear.
The door was slightly ajar, so I pushed it open a bit further and caught his
reflection in the mirror.  I gasped, seeing that naked, furry, hard-as-a-rock
butt.

"It's now or never," I figured, so I pushed the door open, pretending not to
know he was there.

"Oh, sorry Phil.  I didn't know you were in here," I lied.  "I saw the light
on under the door and came in to turn it off."

"No problem, Ben," Phil shrugged, shaking the last drops of pee from his
heavy, circumcised penis.

The look on my face must have been a dead give away.

"Lots of guys look at it that way," He chuckled.

"Was I looking?" I stammered.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to look."

But of course I was looking, and I certainly DID mean to look.

"Relax, buddy," Phil said in a calm voice, putting his hands under the sink
faucet.  "Oh, shit, ouch!"

"Oh, damn," I panicked.  "I forgot to tell you that the hot water really
comes up fast.  Let me get something for that."

Phil sat down on the toilet seat cover, panting.

"Here, let me look," I said, holding out my hand.  "Doesn't look too bad.
I'll put some of this cream on there.  The pain should go away momentarily."

"Nurse Ben," he teased.

"Yeah, I guess so," I laughed.

I must have held on to his hand a little longer than I should have.  He
brought his hand up to my face and looked me in the eye.  God, those beautiful blue
eyes.  That WAS one trait Simon got from his dad.

"Thanks," he said gently.

"You're welcome," I returned, putting my hand on HIS cheek.

Slowly, Phil rose from the toilet, and pulled my face to his, gently pressing
his lips to mine.  I wrapped my arms around him, and made out with this
gorgeous man for a long time, right there in the bathroom.  I explored his furry
chest with my hands and my mouth, sucking in both of his nipples.

"God, I love that," he moaned.

I didn't stop.  I kissed my way down his chest and belly, right to that
magnificent mancock, which was now standing at attention.  It had to have been 10
inches.  Mine was a good 8", but man, this was cock perfection.  Now on my
knees in front of him, I drank in the manly aroma of his crotch.  God, I was in
heaven.  I pressed my face against his nutsack and inhaled.

"Mmmmmmm," I hummed.

I began tentatively licking his furry scrotum and sucking his testicles.

"Oh, baby," Phil sighed.  "I can't take it."

I slurped my way up his cockshaft and wrapped my warm lips around his fat
cockhead.  It took me a minute to get used to suck a big wiener in my mouth, but
I managed, drooling all over it.  Phil was so hard.

"Stop, Ben," he begged.  "Please."

I pulled my mouth from his cock and stood up.  I took him by the hand and
invited him to lay down with me on my bed.  I can tell you honestly, I hadn't had
anyone in that bed since my wife died.  Male or female.  It just felt so
right.  And it was about time.

"You are very special," I blurted out, kissing him tenderly on the lips.

"You're not some kind of faggot, are you?" he hissed.

"Oh fuck," my brain started spinning, "he's only in it for the sex, and he's
gonna beat the crap out of me."

Seeing the panicked look in my eyes, Phil began laughing.  "Well, I sure hope
you are, because so am I."

I heaved a heavy sigh of relief and started tickling him.  We got so loud I
started to worry,  "Shh, geez, we'll wake up Simon.  I'm guessing you don't
want him to wake up to the sounds of his father and professor rolling around
naked."

"Well, actually, Ben," Phil confessed, "Simon thought you would be a good
match for me."

Stunned, I retorted, "He thought WHAT?" pulling away from him.

"Will you please relax, Ben?" Phil pleaded, pulling me into his arms.  "Simon
is crazy about you, and tells me he figured out that you were gay, or at the
very least, bisexual when he stumbled upon a couple gay DVD's you have hidden
in your underwear drawer."

"Shit," I admitted, "I forgot all about the DVDs in there."

"I have a number of them, too," Phil continued, "which he found one day."

"How did he react?" I asked, playing with the hairs on his chest.

"Amazingly well for a 17 year-old," he told me, running his fingers through
my hair.  "I confessed to him that about a year after his mom died, I had an
experience with a guy at the gym, nothing much, just some mutual JO, a little
sucking.  You know.  He was fascinated.  He admitted to thinking about such
things.  Anyway, when he met you, he thought you would be perfect for me."

"He told you that?" I wondered out loud.

"Yeah," Phil affirmed.  "And I have to say, he just may be right."

We lay together all night long, making out, making love.  He kissed his way
down my body, much in the same way I did his, in the bathroom.  Only this time,
I was lying on my back, and he was on top of me.  When he got to my cock, it
was so hard it hurt.  He made it feel much better, wrapping his tender lips
around the head and blowing me.  Eventually he worked his way down the shaft to
my nuts, then under my nuts, then right into my pink hole.

"Oh, God, Phil," I groaned.  "Yes, do that."

Phil darted his tongue in and out of my manhole.  I went crazy.  He slid a
finger in.  I almost screamed, covering my mouth with my hand.  He then wrapped
his mouth around my peter again, and finger-fucked me.  He was rocking me back
and forth like crazy.  He felt my cock stiffen even more, so he pulled his
mouth off, got in between my legs, put my feet over his shoulders and teased my
pucker with his cockhead.

"Put it in, Phil," I begged, "PLEASE put it in."

Phil lay right down on me, pressing his erection all the way into me, making
me burn with pleasure, and sliding his tongue in my mouth.  As he fucked me,
and made out with me, he pumped my furry butt.

"Feels so good, Ben," he whispered in his sexy baritone.  "Such a sweet
manpussy."

"Fuck me, Phil," I pleaded.  "Fuck my manpussy.  Cream in my pussy, you hot
fucker."

He was totally getting into me telling him how hot he was.  Before long, he
was spasming.

"Oh Christ, Benji," He exploded, "I'm cumming!!"

With that, Phil shot 7 or 8 ropes of his love cream in my manpussy.

"Oh shit, Phil, I'm gonna cum," I squealed.  I wasn't touching myself.  My
cock was rubbing against Phil's furry belly as he fucked me.  He kept rocking
me, even after he ejaculated inside me.

"Oohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I moaned, squirting stream after stream of ejaculate out
of my hardon.  "Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh..."

Phil collapsed on me and rolled us onto our sides.

In between baby kisses on his lips, I remarked, "You know, Phil, I think
Simon may have been on to something, trying to hook us up.  What do you think?"

Scooping up a wad of cum from his belly, and bringing it to my lips, he
responded, "What do YOU think I think?"

Phil stayed with us several more days, following the house rules by hanging
around in his underwear (boxerbriefs) with us, before leaving for home.  Phil
made many weekend visits while Simon lived with me over the next 3 years.  The
rest of the story will follow in future chapters.


If you enjoyed this story, let me know.  My apologies for the length, but I
felt it was necessary to get to know the characters a bit.  Send an e-mail to
daddy2maggie@aol.com