Date: Thu, 15 Sep 2016 10:23:28 -0500 (CDT)
From: rbrbrb163@verizon.net
Subject: Academy RB - High School - RB11

RB11

The usual disclaimers: This story is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to
any real people is completely coincidental. This is not the real world we
live in and the author in no way condones nor encourages acts which mirror
the practices described in this entirely fictional story. Note to readers:
I skipped chapter 7. My mistake. You didn't miss anything. Please remember
to make a donation to Nifty which hosts my story and others you
like. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Like what you are reading? Hate
it? Have suggestions? rbrbrb163@verizon.net

My classes at Academy RB began at around 2pm. I was able to arrange my real
school schedule so I had a back-to-back class schedule ending around 1pm. I
had to be up and dressed at 7am to get to school on time, which was hard
for me to get used to, but at least there was no competition for showers at
6:30am. I would scarf down a protein heavy lunch on the way from
traditional school to whore school. Ron was kind enough to set up a
tailored schedule for me so I can go to school.

I would do some of my homework on the 2 buses I had to take to and from
schools. It was funny because I transitioned from AP Russian literature to
an ab exercise class. I was in the class with two other guys who I hadn't
met before, and the instructor was a striking looking Latino, unusually
tall and of course he had killer abs. If you ran into his stomach with your
head fast enough you might get a concussion. I was willing to try that out.

My fellow students were two guys from different rural towns in the Midwest,
Kansas and Indiana. They were very hot blondish brownish hair beauties with
Midwest accents and bodies that look liked they worked on farms since they
were young men, and that was true for one of them, Billy. They were about
two weeks ahead of me in the program and the condition of their tummies
reflected that, as well as other parts of their bodies. We got to know each
other's abs very well because a lot of the program was a variety of sit ups
in which we spotted each other so certain parts of our bodies did not move,
maximize effort and pain. There were a lot of grunts and moans and
hard-ons. That first day I was partnered with Sam, the other hayseed, Billy
and the teacher, also named Sam, were coupled together. It was a relief
because it would have been hard to concentrate if I was held down by
teacher Sam.

For 45 minutes we worked on our "core" going back and forth between sit-ups
and intense jumping exercises on bikes. There was one time when I got up
from sitting up with Sam holding me down with my thighs, very close to my
dick and balls. When he realized how stimulated I got from the action, he
teased me by getting closer and closer. My dick was milking with pre cum so
much so that the saddle of the bike I went on afterwards was covered by it,
mixed with sweat from my crack and hole.

Teacher Sam playfully came over to me with some Kleenex. "Looks like you're
leaking down there." I turned red. "No worries. It's normal, especially at
the beginning."

My next class was on finances: how to manage our money, how to spread it
around in different accounts, how not to keep cash under our
mattresses. Ron managed to find an incredibly hot looking
accountant/financial adviser to teach the class. Jon Decker was a little
older, I figured around 40 or 45, with sexy salt and pepper hair. This day
was on balancing a checkbook and he previewed that the next would be on
arranging a pension plan. I had missed the very important class two days
before on how to separate money so some of it was money we'd declare in our
taxes. The joke was, "They got Al Capone on taxes. Don't let that happen to
you."

John asked me to stay behind when he dismissed class. "We'll get you caught
up," he pledged.

"Thanks."

"This is an important part of the program," he said.

"I appreciate that. I appreciate you taking a special interest." That last
part was a little flirty.

"I am taking a special interest."

"Well, if there's anything I can physically do to get an "A" in the class,
just tell me what it is."

"Funny. Maybe you do need some special tutoring." He reached around my
waist. "Unlike real school, there are no rules against teachers giving
students special assistance."

"That would be great. I am not that good at math." He moved his hand down
on my ass.

"What about after dinner?"

"That would be great Mr. Decker."

"I'd tell you to call me Jon, but I actually find boys calling me
'Mr. Decker.'"

"I have to wash clothes tonight so I'm afraid I'll have to wear only my
underwear for our session." I looked down and saw that Mr. Decker's dick
had traveled down the right leg of his pants. I rubbed it with my
leg. "Gotta go, Mr. Decker. I have a swimming class now. Gotta get into my
speedos."

"OK, see you later."

"Later, later alligator."

Jon Decker snuck by the pool to check me out in my speedos. I saw him. I
asked myself: Is this a compliment or creepy? Or both. Probably "or both."

Swimming was part of the exercise program at RB, not just an excuse to wear
speedos. But I had to say I looked pretty good in my red and white striped
speedos. I looked better than I was a swimmer. I knew how to swim but not
so well. When I was a kid I was scared of the water and my parents never
took us to pools or the beach.

I had finished a bunch of laps when another student moved into my lane,
even though there were other free lanes. I had never seen him before. He
was pretty good looking but what really made him were a pair of nerdy,
heavy black glasses. He took them from the edge of the pool and put them
on. I hope he didn't hear me swoon.

There was this contrast between the nerdy glasses and his incredible body
that was pretty sexy. His abs were so cut that they looked like they could
hurt you, like the abs teacher, and his legs were like those of a fine
horse. Under his speedos you could see a large dick with a big mushroom
head that hurt to think about it going in.

I did another lap and found him in the same place. He held his hand, and
introduced himself as Jason Stern. I returned the introduction. "Are you
done?"

"No, I have some more to do. Can we do circles?"

"Circles?"

"That's when you share a lane and switch from the left to the right sides
as you go up and down."

"But there are other free lanes."

"I know. But I am very far sighted and I want to be able to see you
underwater."

Very flirty. And then I said it out loud, "Very flirty."

"Meant to be. Flirty, that is," he responded, a little fey. "Besides I
wanted Mr. Decker to think you had a boyfriend so he'd stop stalking you."

"What if I want him to stalk me?"

"Trust me. You don't. Been there."

"Really?"

"Yeah, very few of the instructors here are creepy, but he is. He's a
lech. And I don't know why Ron keeps him around."

"Other than creep on you, does he do anything beyond that. Beyond that
that's bad."  "No, not really. If he fucks you it's not so bad because his
dick is pretty small and skinny, so it does do any damage. Besides, it gets
you prepared for creepy clients, who I assume we'll meet."

"I am getting special tutoring tonight, after dinner."

"Prepared to be underwhelmed, sexwise. But he's a pretty good financial
adviser. He knows his stuff."

"Thanks for the advice."

"Would it be terribly obnoxious if I gave you some swimming advice?"

"No, I know I am terrible."

"You need to be more aware of you're the strokes of your arms, hands and
legs as you swim. You are, sorry, all over the place. And it slows you
down. Like, cup your hands and slice them into the water sideways. Don't
slap them in. Stretch your feet away from you. Picture yourself as you
swim. You want to make as little wake and waves as possible. You are
gliding. Not splashing."

"Nice, OK."

He held out his arms and told me to get on top of them. He'd hold me up. I
did. He did. He sensually moved his hand up my arm and sort of molded my
hand into a cup. Then, he moved his hand all the way down my body and moved
my foot as far out as I can go. He moved his hand back to the center.

"Yeah, but, now, my hard on is going slow me down." I took his hand and
placed in in front of my speedos.

"Hmm, yeah, that might slow you down. Think about me chasing you down the
lane. Or better yet Mr. Decker."

I laughed, and moved off his arms. I pushed my feet off the wall and did
two laps back and forth. He followed me and slid his body against
mine. Back at the end he felt my crotch. "OK, it's down now. That was
good."

"Uhm, want to take a shower together."

"No, I don't think so. Besides you have to save yourself for Mr. Decker."

I laughed. "Don't worry, I'd have something left for him. Believe me."

"What if we meet after your tutoring. You'll want something after that to
satisfy you fully." He paused, and got a wicked look on his face. "I can
show you some more strokes."

"I bet you can, you will."

I pushed myself out of the pool and stood above him. He stared at my middle
with a leer on his face. He yelled out, loud enough for the few others in
the pool above water to hear, "You might want to hold your hands in front
of your dick or think about your grandmother naked, or something. Something
is sticking out."

I looked down and saw my hard-on straining the material of my speedos. I
laughed in a theatrical way (not sincere), and said, just as loud as he,
"Now who's the lech?"

I took a shower and was luckily alone so I wasn't so obviously advertising
my sex tool. It took a while to go down and I didn't want to wank because I
had my meeting with Mr. Decker. I was going to be late for my Spanish class
and so I hurried the shower, whipped my hair towards the back so I wouldn't
to blow dry. Not a great look, but I was told lateness to class was not
condoned.

But I was late, and the teacher, an older woman with frazzled black hair in
a frazzled bun. "Welcome to class, Senor."

We were answering questions from "Don Quixote" which we were assigned to
read in Spanish. I actually had done the assignment and was able to answer
my share of the questions, though my accent was criticized.

# # #

Mr. Decker was seated in front of his desk when I knocked on the door and
went in. He told me to sit down next to him, and when I scooted my chair a
little away from him, he scooted closer to me.

"This is a most serious matter, Brandon. The easiest way to get caught or
get in trouble in a serious way in the business you are studying for is
mishandling your finances. So it's important that you take this seriously."

I decided to take on a serious tone with Decker. "Please call me, Brandon,
first of all. And second, Mr. Decker, what makes you think I am not serious
about this. Ron and I spoke about this a lot when I interviewed for
admittance. I assured him of my seriousness, and I do the same with you. So
I don't know where you get off thinking I am sloughing this off.  I am
here. I am on time. I didn't take time to make my hair more presentable
from swimming. And appearance is very important in this business, too."

"Jon, please." From the look on his face, and his wide eyes, I could tell
he was astonished at the tone I took with him. I dug into my backpack,
pulled out a tablet and said, in a very businesslike fashion, "So, Jon,
let's get this party started." Maybe he thought I was referring to a
different kind of party, because he started to caress my leg up and down up
to my thighs. I let him do it for a little, and then held his hand stopped
an inch away from where my balls were resting. "Mr. Decker, can we do a
little tutoring," I said, pausing, and then teasing, "First at least." He
got serious and started to talk about different financial issues such as
holding a variety of bank accounts and banks, and other similar issues. It
went on like that for about 40 minutes. I furiously took notes, and was
taking it very seriously. I was beginning to feel bad for him, because he
seemed to be sadder and sadder. Really.

I took his hand closest to me and put it back on my thigh. I pushed it back
and forth up and down my upper leg, almost like I was working a computer
mouse. I took his middle finger and ran it up and down my hard cock. And
then I did the same thing to his thigh and his cock, which had a spreading
liquid spots on his light colored pants. I teased out more pre cum and ran
it on my lips.

I leaned forward and reached my lips to his and gave him a very sexy set of
bites and kisses. I stood up and pushed my crotch into his face. The smell
must have been a mix of sweat and chlorine from the pool. "Mr. Decker," I
asked breathlessly, "are you sure this is OK between teachers and
students. I don't want to get into trouble." I kept holding his face into
my crotch not really allowing him to answer. A muffled and very horny
teacher responded, "Yeah, this is fine."

I stood him up and pressed for him to sit on the edge of his desk, pushing
some books onto the floor. I kissed him again, moved down to bite his
nipples and at the same time was undoing his pants. I pulled out his cock
and gave him an aggressive, even relentless blowjob. He kept trying to push
me away but I was stronger than him and, pulling on his nipples and his
balls, he came furiously. His yell so loud it could have traveled beyond
the walls of his office. I swallowed most of his cum-about six generous
shots of it--but removed a glob from the side of my mouth and stuck it in
his mouth.

I pushed him down on the desk and climbed on top of him. I pulled down my
pants and underwear. I painted my pre cum on his face. I took his hands and
placed them on my balls which were heavy with my boy juice. I jerked off
and shot about seven spurts of my cum all over his face. My orgasm was
quieter than his but I made it seem no less intense. I licked my cum off of
his face and neck.

I continued to sit on his legs. His eyes were closed. He was spent. When he
emerged he put both of his hands on my cheeks, the ones on my face. "Gosh,
Brandon, you are good."

"Thanks, Jon. I hope I get good grades for my grasp of the financial issues
as I do for my grasp of your cock with my mouth."

"You'll be fine." He closed his eyes again. "Are you always such a top, so
dominant? I really wanted to fuck you."

"You will. But I react to what I sense of the moment. And I thought you'd
be especially excited by my taking total control. I imagine you are not
used to that."

"No, usually the students are more passive unless we request something more
intense as part of a, uhm, lesson. But, like, you were teaching me a thing
or two."

"Good, sweety, I accomplished my goal." I got up on the desk in a different
position. "Here," I directed, "Look what you'll get the next time." I
jerked by ass above his face so he could see my red fuck hole.

"Hmm," he moaned and licked my asshole a few times, and then pushed his
tongue up my hole. I moaned that time.

But I got off him and showed him that I was hard again. "Man, you are
relentless."

"Just for you, Daddy." But he was not hard again yet, and I was
relieved. It would have served me right if he had it in him to go again. I
helped him get dressed and put my clothes back on.

"I have an appointment."

"Another teacher?"

"For me to know and you to, not, find out, sweety pie."