Date: Sat, 04 Oct 2008 15:16:58 -0700
From: Rilbur IWFYA <iwfya2@gmail.com>
Subject: Not In My Wildest Dreams 4

Disclaimer: This story is fictional.  All characters and situations come
from the mind of the author, potentially inspired from real life events but
not based in them.  As this story involves sex and sexualized situations,
please do not read if your local laws do not allow such material or if such
material is offensive to you.  18 and over only please!

Anyway, whoops, sorry I took to long getting part four out!

***



Author's Note: While some people might find Mrs. Goldstein's ignorance a
little difficult to believe, trust me there are people that bad out there.
This particular incident came from watching a mother and her son on the bus
today.  Said son had to explain certain aspects of the "facts of life" to
his mother...  despite his being the 12 year old.  Ouch.

Brandon had a fairly normal day at school -- even if he had to keep a book
in front of himself, it happened all the time and people understood.  It
was, after all, a high school.  And, of course, he'd gotten off several
times that morning to help release the tension.  So even if his mind did
wander a little, he had it under control.  Jeremy, on the other hand...

Jeremy's mind wandered all day as he went through his classes, though for
the most part he was able to keep his hard-on hidden.  And while he kept
leaking, the wet spot wouldn't show through jeans that easily.  Of course,
he ran into a small problem when he changed into the super-thin uniform
shorts everyone wore to P. E.  The physical activity kept his blood
pumping, but couldn't keep his mind off the events of the morning.
Everyone noticed -- and twitted him -- about his constant hard on, but his
briefs kept it from being too obscene.  Of course, his already soaked
briefs couldn't do anything about containing the copious flow of material
coming out of the tip of his rock-hard cock.  Halfway through the period,
his teacher called him out.

"Yes, Mrs. Goldstein?" he panted.

"Jeremy, I know we don't usually encourage students to go to the restroom
during class, but if you're desperate, you *can* ask," she replied
uncomfortably.  Jeremy just looked blank and she sighed.  "Son, I can tell
your bladder is overfull -- your, um, leaking."

Jeremy glanced down, and touched the wet spot.  "Um... thats...  not pee."

"What are you talking about?  Of course it is!" Mrs. Goldstein didn't even
realize the minefield she was walking into.  Jeremy realized this abruptly
and blushed.  He had two choices, and he didn't know which one to take.
Both would be fun, though!  Either lecture the teacher, or make her
"educate" him... decisions, decisions...

"No Mrs. Goldstein, it isn't."

"Well, what else could it be?" she asked exasperated.

Clearly if she didn't know, he was going to have to go with plan A.  "Its
pre-cum, Mrs. Goldstein."

"What?" Suddenly she went red.

"Well, when a boy gets hard -- thats so he can stick his dick in a girl,
you know -- he can emit this thing called pre-ejaculatory fluid, usually
called pre-cum.  Some boys produce a little, but I produce a lot."
Mrs. Goldstein just blushed and stammered, and those near enough to
overhear the conversation started giggling.  Seventh grade was going to be
fun today -- naughty fun!

"You can use it as lube to masturbate -- which releases the pressures that
cause you to have an erection, though thats a purely temporary release --
though some guys like to taste it instead." a chorus of "ewws" followed,
naturally.  Though a few got suddenly thoughtful -- or guilty -- looks on
their faces.

Mrs. Goldstein spluttered and finally managed to spit out "Go back to what
you were doing!"

Jeremy ran back to the basketball game grinning.  Noticing her attention on
his crotch, he decided to shake his but just a *little* more than strictly
necessary.  Her blush got even worse as she looked away.  Jeremy grinned
and ignored the frequent glances at his equipment, though said equipment
kept pulsing and enjoying the attention.  Class ended soon, and he scooted
off to grab lunch -- you had to feed a hungry cock, after all!  Didn't want
it going hungry!

After lunch, he got called to the principles office.  The principle's eyes
locked onto his (still evident) condition when he walked in the room,
before the principle pulled his eyes up and smiled, indicating a chair.
"You aren't in trouble Jeremy, please, sit."

Jeremy sat quickly, grateful for the desk that now hid his equipment.  His
jeans didn't do a good job, his briefs weren't keeping his gear 'in line',
and life was getting embarrassing.  Everyone wanted an eyeful of the now
infamous erection.  "Yes Mr. Focker."

The principle winced and insisted, "Please, call me Tom.  I insist."
Jeremy hid his urge to grin.  Of course he'd insist, given a name like
Focker!  "Actually, Jeremy, I called you here to apologize for the incident
earlier.  You shouldn't have been subjected to that."

"You mean with Mrs. Goldstein?" Jeremy asked quietly.

"Yes.  She...  she was deeply disturbed by her failure to handle the
situation more appropriately.  Normally, when something goes wrong, we'd
involve the parents in the apology, but given the exact nature of the
error...  well, I already contacted the school board, and they agree a more
discreet resolution is in order.  For your sake, as much as the schools.

"Parents?!" Jeremy bolted upright when that sank in.  "God, no!"

Mr. Focker laughed, "Thats pretty much how we thought you'd react to the
idea.  As I said, we decided not to go the whole route.  We're going to
quietly reorganize things, insist on better training for teachers with
regards to... changing physical characteristics of the students.
I... don't need to explain myself, do I?"

Jeremy shook his head, "I getcha.  Make sure the teachers know what happens
during puberty, and how *not* to react to it.  Don't want more
Mrs. Goldstein's perving out on little ol' me!"

Mr. Focker shot Jeremy a sharp look.  "Explain that, please."

"Um..." Jeremy squirmed, embarrassed.  "Well, after I... um...
Mrs. Goldstein was really embarrassed by her mistake, she kept looking at
me.  I kinda... well..."  Jeremy looked away.

"Was she looking at you down there?" Mr. Focker asked, concerned.

"Well, only 'cause... well...  I couldn't help it, it was so funny to watch
her blush!"

Mr. Focker suddenly connected the dots.  "Oh.  So thats why..."  he started
laughing.  "You did it to her deliberately!  Oh God thats hilarious.
Completely wrong of you, but hilarious."  The attempt at a stern reprimand
was worse that useless, and Mr. Focker knew it, but it *was* hilarious.
"She mentioned how you, ah, 'wagged your behind' at her.  I just
thought..."  he broke down in laughter.  "I'm sorry, I just thought it was
something you'd picked up from TV and didn't understand.  Martha is going
to love this one when I tell her!  It goes right with your having
'lectured' her on the practical..."

"Martha?" Jeremy asked.

"My wife," Mr. Focker explained.  "Now, I think you need to get back to
class.  Given the state of your clothing, I might recommend a trip by the
restroom first to... release the tension, I believe you phrased it?"

"Um, sir..."  Jeremy blushed.

"I know, there aren't any stall doors -- stupid decision, I'm still
fighting to get it fixed -- but if you go right now there shouldn't be
anyone around.  Just have Mrs. Fletcher call me if she thinks your *too*
late to class."

"But, um, Mr. Focker..."  Jeremy squirmed.

"Whats wrong Jeremy?  And please, call me Tom!" the principle leaned
forward, concerned.  "I mean, you'll have privacy, and clearly you need the
relief...  And its obvious you've, ah, got the lube...  Is there something
wrong?"

"I...  I need to wait until I get home... I..."

"What?" various concerns ran through Mr. Focker's face.  "Is it something
with your parents?"  Jeremy shook his head.  "Someone older than you?"
Jeremy started to nod, than shook his head.  "Another kid?"  Jeremy looked
away.  Mr. Focker hid a slight smile.  "Some kind of dare, I take it?"

"Close enough," Jeremy muttered.

Mr. Focker laughed again.  "I'm not even going to ask, Jeremy.  But you
might want to consider if this is what your dare was meant to do."

Jeremy just kept his eyes to the side.  "May I be excused, Mr. Focker?"

"Get to class Jeremy," Mr. Focker stood up to let him out of the room.
Jeremy wasn't sure, but it looked like his pants were fuller than when the
meeting had started.  Which was amusing enough that he considered some more
but wiggling.  Then again, Mr. Focker knew he was doing it deliberately,
which could mean trouble... decisions, decisions.

Jeremy wiggled his butt all the way to class.  Where Mrs. Fletcher informed
him that, "While your obscene behavior may be tolerated elsewhere, in my
class room you will behave more appropriately!"

Given that her stare was on his crotch, Jeremy almost wondered if she was
talking about the butt wiggling or the erection.  When she called him after
class, he found out.  "Young man, I don't know what you've got in your
pants, but pull it out, *now*.  Its not amusing."

"What are you talking about?" Jeremy demanded, exasperated.

"Whatever your using to make it look like your penis is ten times its size,
you little idiot!" she snapped at him.

Jeremy was only twelve years old.  Jeremy was a student.  Jeremy was a
child.  Jeremy was *not* an idiot.  And he was not one to suffer this kind
of abuse lightly.  He turned, grabbed his backpack, and left the
spluttering teacher behind.  He strode into the office, red face caused by
anger this time, and just walked right into Mr. Focker's office -- where a
meeting was already in place.  "Mr. Focker, I need to talk to you soon.  As
in *now*."

Mr. Focker raised his eyebrows, and the two gentlemen with him turned to
look at Jeremy.  "Jeremy, does this have to do with our discussion
earlier?"

Jeremy nodded curtly.  "Something just happened, and..."  words failed him.

"Is this the boy?" one of the men asked, and Mr. Focker nodded.

"Jeremy, these men are from the school board -- we were just discussing the
situation you were in this morning.  Close the door, you can talk in front
of them."

Jeremy did so and stood there, trembling.  "I just... Mr. Fletcher...
she..."  he was at a loss for words.

Mr. Focker leaned forward and indicated a seat.  "Please, tell us however
you can get it out.  We won't mind if its phrased... badly."

Jeremy sat and looked Mr. Focker in the eyes.  "I want the bitch fired."

The three adults rocked back in their seats.

"What?!" they demanded in unison.

"She just... she..."  Jeremy shook with rage.  "I don't remember her exact
words...  but she saw my dick and then when class was over... she... she
told me to pull it out!"

Mr. Focker shot upright.  "Bloody fucking hell!" he swore.

Jeremy blushed, realizing he'd screwed up.  "Not like that!  I mean she
thought it was a toy or something!"

Mr. Focker cocked his head, then blinked.  "Oh..  He reflexively wiped his
mouth. "She thought you were... um..."

"She thought I'd stuffed something in my pants to look big," Jeremy nodded.
"I just... I couldn't handle it, I walked out on her."

Mr. Focker grabbed the phone on his desk and punched in an extension.
"Hello Mrs. Fletcher... why yes, I was just calling you about that... no,
not going to... because you were the one who was... no, you were out of
line...  Mrs. Fletcher, I'd love to hear you explain to me how you became
an expert on pubescent genitalia...  I mean that for all you know, that was
real...  well I have evidence that he's developing a little early...  shut
up for one moment and let me...  Mrs. Fletcher, I think you can expect a
call from the school board!" Mr. Focker slammed the phone down.
"Gentlemen, I'm sorry, but it looks like the situation is even more out of
hand than I thought.  Jeremy, go ahead to your next class, and don't worry
about Mrs. Fletcher.  I'm afraid we're going to have to call your parents
about *this* situation, but we'll try to keep it as unembarrassing as
possible."  Jeremy stalked out, still angry.

Thankfully, the rest of his classes passed without too much incident.
Unfortunately, his walk to the bus stop took him right pass a snarling
Mrs. Fletcher, being escorted by the two elderly gentlemen Mr. Focker had
been talking to earlier.  Her words were..  impressive.  Then she saw him.
"I'll show you!" she screamed, and suddenly attack him.  Grabbing his
pants, she yanked downward.  Her grip was strong enough that his jeans slid
right off his hips, along with his briefs.

His suddenly loose cock snapped upwards, loosing a splatter of pre-cum all
over the shocked face of his former English teacher.  Who rocked back on
her heels in shock.  Jeremy stood there, rooted to the ground, as everyone
around snickered.  He couldn't believe... how could she... in front of half
the school, no less!

One of the two gentlemen grabbed Mrs. Fletcher, and the other, seeing his
evident distress, stepped in front of him.  Trying to help out, he squated
down to try and pull the clothes back up.  Jeremy reflexively stepped away
and tripped on his jeans.  Kicking out of them, he sprinted away from the
situation -- cock leading the way, and pre-cum leaving a trail.  He had no
idea where he was going.  He ran across the street, traffic screaming and
horns honking at the sudden interruption -- then screams following as they
noticed his disheveled state.  Much to his later dismay, a news crew was
doing a piece on the high school and was in a perfect position to catch
footage of his run.

Jeremy ran for what felt like miles before a siren grabbed his attention as
a police car pulled up in front of him.  He started running the other way
without even looking, and bounced off another officer who'd been trying to
catch up with him.  Actually seeing it was a cop, he just grabbed hold of
the man and wouldn't let go.  One of the officers pulled a blanked from
somewhere and wrapped it around him before giving him a ride back to the
school.  Where half the staff seemed to be waiting for him.  The principle
and cops did their best to shield him from view as they escorted him to the
principle's office, where he was given his pants back.  Looking at his
sodden underwear, he decided not to bother.  At the very least, his horny
dick had decided to hide from view for a while anyway.  He zipped his jeans
up carefully while the principle did his best to apologize.

Jeremy's dad pulled up within half an hour and drove him him.  The
principle tried to get them to stay for a moment, but Jeremy's dad just
decked the man and walked out, hand over his son's shoulder.  The principle
decided not to make an issue over it and -- after some argument -- the cops
agreed that the man should be excused.  His son had just been assaulted by
a teacher in a manner that could only be termed "sexual", and its hard to
not overreact to such a thing.

On the way home, Jeremy just sat, staring out the window, unable to think.
Unable to speak.  "Son, are you alright?"

"No." Jeremy answered flatly.

His father sighed.  "Tell me about it.  Please."

"Which part?  It started with Mrs. Goldstein in PE -- she thought I'd wet
my pants!  Then, in English, Mrs. Fletcher thought I'd stuck something in
my pants to make my bulge look bigger, only it was my cock.  Which has been
hard all day 'cause I'm horny, and leaking like a motherfucker besides!"
Jeremy ducked his head for that slip of the tongue.

"Under the circumstances, I think I went temporarily deaf there," his dad
muttered, red-faced.  "I...  well...  continue."

"I didn't like the way Mrs. Fletcher talked to me, so I went to talk to the
principle.  He didn't like it either, and called her up.  They...  I think
she got into it with him over the phone.  I left for class, and everything
was fine until I was going to the bus stop.  I walked by her, and, well..."
Jeremy couldn't continue.

"I... I don't *want* to hear it Son, but I *need* to hear it.  I think."
His father was just as uncomfortable with this discussion as Jeremy was,
and somehow that made Jeremy feel better.

"Two men -- from the school board, I think -- were having a discussion with
her when she saw me.  She decided to...  she still thought I'd stuffed
something in my pants...  so she pulled my pants off.  In front of
everyone."

"Thats...  bad." Jeremy's dad almost couldn't speak.

"I was so...  and when she pulled them off, she did it so quick my dick...
it snapped up after being released... and, well...  I kinda hit her in the
face."

"You hit your teacher?!" Jeremy's dad almost screamed.

"I couldn't help it -- when my dick snapped like that the pre-cum just flew
into her face!"

"You hit your... wait...  you hit her with... um... your... ah..."

"Yeah."

"Oh."  Jeremy's dad was silent for a bit.  "And then?"

"Well, one of the school board guys tried to help me.  He stood right in
front of me to shield me, and then tried to help me pull my pants up.  But
when he reached for them, I just stepped away -- I don't know why -- and
fell on my ass.  It hurt."

"Jeremy, watch it," came the warning.

"I fell on my butt, ok?!" Jeremy snapped back, upset.  "I've got better
things to worry about than my fuckin' language!"

"Which is why you aren't -- yet! -- grounded young man."

"OK, ok...  Anyway, I fell on my *butt*.  It hurt.  Half the school was
staring at me, and I just... I panicked.  I kicked my jeans off my feet and
I ran.  I just... ran.  Some cops saw me and tried to help, but I kept
running...  until finally I ran into one and stopped long enough to see he
was a cop.  After that, I just broke down."

"Sounds like a bad day, Son."

"And it started out so *nice*," Jeremy muttered.

"Oh, tell me please," his dad replied.

"Um...  just a good day."

"Sounds like theres more to it than that."

"Well...  um..."

His dad smiled and blushed.  "You Mom and I wanted to talk to you and
Brandon about something tonight."

"Er..." Jeremy didn't like where this was going.

"You two were loud enough to wake us up, and you forgot to lock your door
besides."

"Uh-oh."  Jeremy fell back into his seat.

"You aren't...  you aren't in trouble for...  for...  um... well, for
giving eachother-"

"Dad!"  Jeremy protested.

"Just...  I know I'm not comfortable... You're just a fuckin' kid!"

Jeremy blinked.  "That makes a difference?"

"Well...  yeah.  I can...  its easier...  well, with the guys... um..."
Jeremy's dad took a deep breath.  "When its just 'the guys' I don't have a
problem talking about sex, but when it comes to kids I get really
uncomfortable.  Your mom is worse -- she can't even talk about it to me,
much less anyone else."

"Er..."

"Anyway...  God this is hard...  She and I talked it over a long time ago,
and she doesn't like it...  But she understands."

"Er... um...  You mean..."

"We're getting sound proofing installed so we don't have to go the motel,
and you guys don't have to worry about broadcasting every time... every...
when you... um...  God this is hard!"

"When we get vocal?"

"Yeah."

"Cool."

"You and your brother... what did....  um, how did...  oh damn it, what did
you guys try and do?"

Jeremy glanced away.  "I... I don't wanna..."

"Son, you need...  we need...  your Mom is going to wonder if this
morning...  and what happened... well, if it made today... worse."

"All this morning did was... was make me horny.  Horny as hell."

"Oh.  I'm surprised... I would have thought... well, how many times did you
get off?"

"Once."

"Once?!" his dad shouted.  "You guys only shot once?!  Damnit, *I* don't
have that kind of control, and you're telling me *you* two do?!"

"Erm, actually... No."

"Huh?"

"Brandon...  um...  He was..."

Mr. Ramos wasn't a dummy, he could connect the dots.  "He was teasing you."

"Well... yeah."

"I trust you gave as good as you got?"

"Well, um...  he creamed while I was fucking him, so..."

A moment of silence before his dad could talk, "Son, I think we just veered
into TMI land."

"Oh, sorry." Jeremy figured they'd hit Too Much Information land from the
beginning, but ok.

"Let me rephrase: how often did both of you 'cream', and did he get
whatever he got?"

"Um... bro creamed three times, once when he jacked, once when he jacked
me, and once in the shower.  He... um...  I never...  He took it both
times."

Mr. Ramos was shifting uncomfortably.  "So you never... um... caught?"

"No."

"I'm not going to tell you guys how to do things, but doesn't that sound a
little...  unfair?"

"He wanted it.  Nearly killed himself trying to get it in the first time."

"What?"

"Er, well,, in bed, he tried to hop on... um it hurt him too badly, I, ah,
had to throw him off."

"You're talking about... fucking?" Mr. Ramos wasn't comfortable at all, but
he did have his sons' welfare at heart.

"Yeah."

"Did you remember...  um... lube?  And to stretch?"

"Um...  what?"

"God...  Remind me when we get home... oh fuck I...  Damnit, I guess I'll
have to... this fucking stinks!"  Mr. Ramos pulled into the drive and
Jeremy got out.

Once inside, Jeremy put his stuff in his room before coming back
downstairs.  Mr. Ramos was on the phone, lettings Mrs. Ramos know
everything was alright.  Jeremy was starting to get annoyed with only
hearing one side of these conversations.  "Bad day... yeah... no, it set
the scene but didn't really cause anything...  do you really...  alright,
you asked!  It made him so 'horny' that he was running around...  I told
you you didn't want...  good idea, dear...  well, the big problem was when
one of his teachers thought he was 'stuffing' his pants to improve his
bulge-size...  no, I'm not kidding... do I need to answer that?...  well,
it wasn't a problem then and there...  yeah, he reported the incident to
the principle, and the principle took steps to deal with it... well, the
emergency came later, the teacher in question was being escorted off
campus, saw him, and decided to prove her point by showing them he was
'stuffing'... by pulling his pants off...  yeah, she did... no, he
didn't...  ran away in a panic...  turn on the what?"

Jeremy had walked over to the TV and turned it on, but his dad just
snatched the remote up and turned it to the local news channel.  Jeremy's
face was blocked out well enough that you couldn't see a thing -- thank
God! -- but unfortunately, the blanking out of his dick obscured details,
but not size.

Everyone in town now knew *exactly* how big Jeremy was.  The only thing
that could be worse...

The reporter cut away to a live segment with the principle, asking what had
happened.  "I'm not free to go into details until I work things out with
the family involved, but in short the boy was attacked by one of his
teachers."

"Why?"

"As I said, I'm not free to go into details, but in brief, the school
failed to adequately prepare teachers for the possibility of early
development.  As a result, a situation developed in which one of his
teachers decided to 'prove' a point by attempting to remove his pants.  She
wasn't aiming for his briefs as well -- she simply wanted to prove that
the... well, the bulge in his pants had been artificially enhanced.  And
thats really all I can say for the moment."

"This is Erica Clarksen, with-" Mr. Ramos turned the channel off.

"Excuse me Dad, I need to... I can't..."

Mr. Ramos just folded his son into a great big hug, which they stayed in
for a few seconds until the slamming of the front door let them know
Brandon was home.

"Hey Dad, whatcha doin' home so early?"

"There was a situation at the school... I had to pick your brother up."

"Oh no, what happened?"  Brandon asked.

"I'll...  er...  why don't you two go upstairs and I'll let Jeremy explain
it."

"Oh... kaaaay," Brandon said at last.

"And by the way, you two, I won't...  um, its three-thirty now, your mother
doesn't get home until five-thirty...  Neither of us will... ah...  disturb
you... until at least six."  Mr. Ramos wasn't comfortable, at all, with
this situation.

Brandon blinked, jaw dropping.  Jeremy just walked over and whispered into
his ear, then the two of them scampered upstairs to talk about things.

***

"She *what*?!" Brandon exclaimed, giggling.

"She thought I'd wet my pants!"  Jeremy repeated, infected by his brother's
laughter.

The two giggled for a while over the various events of the day, until they
hit The Big One.

"She *WHAT*?!" Brandon screamed.

"She...  she ripped my pants off!"

"Bloody fucking bitch!"

"Boys, LANGUAGE!" came a bellow from downstairs.

"How the fuck... *why* the fuck...  I'll kill her!"

"You'll have to get in line, bro, I think the principle and the cops are
already on it."  Jeremy almost snickered.

"Yeah, well...  no wonder Dad had to come get you, shit!"

"Well, you missed the best part too..."

"What?"

"When she did it, she got a face full of cock... when it snapped up hard
enough to send pre-cum flying.  Right into her face."  This time Jeremy
could laugh over what happened.  Its amazing what the therapeutic powers of
a brotherly conversation can do!

Brandon looked blank for a few seconds, then started laughing himself.

Finally their conversation wound down about the events of the day.  "Jer,
I'm sorry, I didn't realize... well, if I'd known..."

"Brandon, um...  I liked it."

"What?"

"I... I was horny all day...  and I liked it.  I liked being horny."

"You...  liked it?"

"Oh, I didn't like some of the stuff that happened... but being hard all
day was fun!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah..." Jeremy had scooted closer to his brother.  "But now its time to
cum!" Jeremy jumped on his brother, forcing him to the bed.  The two
wrestled for a while before Brandon was pinned, face down, on the bed.

Both of them froze when Jeremy's resurgent hard-on pressed into his
brother's ass.

"Time... to get rid of these clothes, bro..." Jeremy whispered.  "And Dad
said...  a few things..." he was grinding his crotch into his brother's ass
now, panting, "that will help us get it on..."

Brandon groaned and ground back, helplessly.


***


Please remember that your e-mails as feedback are the only payment I get
for writing this story, so send them!  Use the story name as the subject
line and feel free to critique any parts that don't work well, any
mispellings, or other stupidity!  With the next part, we will return to
your regularly schedules sex-fest.