The following story contains graphic sexual scenes between a young male and an older male. If material of this nature offends you, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age in most states you are not allowed to read this story by law.
This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental. The actions of the characters in this story are in no way intended to show approval of, or give sanction to, their actions.
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.
"TAYLOR'S MOMENT": Chapter 2
By: Foster
Taylor
OH SHIT!!! No. It can't be.... My mind was racing faster than my heartbeat. Surely I did not just jack off Mr. Denton. But that shirt... it's the exact same shade.... THEN I noticed the blue jeans around the guy's ankles as I realized he was putting on his shirt.
Quickly, I bolted through the door into the hall. Thankfully, the hall was quiet. My cock was already hardening again at the thought of what I had just done. Then another thought immediately struck me.... "If that were Mr. Denton, does he know that it was I that he was jacking off? Then I thought, "OK... when I get back to the room, if Mr. Denton is in the classroom, I'll know that it could not have possibly been him." I returned to the classroom and immediately saw Mrs. Hall still at the desk. I had gotten there before Mr. Denton. The realization hit me fully as I sat down at my desk and proceeded to try to look busy.
Sitting immediately next to me, my teammate Jon, the son of one of the coaches turned and whispered, "Hey man, are you alright?"
I responded breathlessly, "Yeah... I'm fine."
I turned at looked at him as he whispered, "Well, ok. You just seemed... well... nevermind." With that, he dropped his head back down to his work.
About a minute later, Mr. Denton entered the classroom. Oddly enough, he did not look the least bit flustered. Seeming composed as normal, he did glance my way only as he surveyed the class and then dismissed Mrs. Hall to return to the office. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary with him. I did not see how it was possible. My pulse was STILL racing. For an instant, I thought that maybe that wasn't Mr. Denton I had just shot the biggest load of my life with. Then, I looked at that polo shirt yet again. No... it had to have been Denton; the guy in the bathroom had jeans on. It was definitely a teacher. It HAD to be Mr. Denton.
As I leaned forward at my desk, my hand under my chin, I suddenly realized that my hand smelled like cum.... Mr. Denton's cum. I looked up again at Mr. Denton who was turned with his back to the class as he wrote some notes on the board. I could see his leg muscles pressing into the back of his jeans... his ass just right and firm. As I quietly continued to smell my hand, I could feel my cock pulse again and inwardly smiled. I knew that I would have to beat off again when I got home from school... if not sooner.
Mr. Denton
The day started out normally enough except that I did not have a chance to relieve my morning wood in the shower this morning. I had a conference before class and basically rushed out the door still getting dressed. I usually try to relieve the morning horniness before I go to school so that I won't be standing up in front of the class with a hardon. I'm not particularly shy anymore, but, this day in time, some things are just not a good idea. At any rate, after listening to a lot of parental bitching, I got through the conference with my ass intact after the student's parents realized that their perfect offspring had done perfectly nothing in the way of homework. Already tired before the day was even started good, I went to my classroom just as the bell rung for first block.
Now, I usually do very well being discreet. I am gay and I do not discuss my personal life at school... which is difficult at times. However, if the truth were told, I did not really have much of a personal life to discuss. I began to exit the closet late in life and have done just a little dating. Once in a while, I would go to the gay bar in a neighboring community. So far, I have not run into former {or current} students in the bar. I have never brought my sexuality into the classroom; it would be unprofessional and it is not necessary to do so, even though, some students try to get me to give up the scoop. I also do pretty well at keeping my admiring glances of others to myself at school. Occassionally however, there are just some students who are so beautiful that even the most scrupulous efforts of will sometimes are not enough to keep any of the teachers from stealing a glance.
Taylor is one of those students.
He is just a beautiful young man inside and out. Well mannered, he always was respectful. On this particular morning, however, he walked into the classroom with his hardon visibly pressing into his khakis. "Oh to be a teenager again," I thought to myself; then realizing that my own morning wood was coming back with a vengeance, I tried to push such thoughts from my mind. Finishing the moring routine, I walked to the front to begin the day's lecture. As I looked out, I just about had to pinch myself to keep from staring.
Taylor is sitting back in his seat, and, from my vantage point, obviously discomfitted with his hardon... a jutting post which almost tented his pants. Trying to be discreet, I look down at my podium briefly and look up again only to see him reach down trying to stuff his cock to the side. He wore the snugger Levis khaki pants, so it was apparent what his circumstances were. His cheeks were rosy and he was casually unbuttoned to the second button on his dress shirt. He wore no tee shirt beneath, so his nipples were pressing into the cloth of the shirt... two firm points on his chest. I appreciated his athletic build; I knew myself the work involved having gotten my act together finally a couple of years ago and joining the gym. The striations of muscle of his pecs at the center of his chest were visible through the opening of his shirt and already I had a pretty good idea what his torso must look like. I had the pleasure of walking by the athletic fields one day and spotted him coming out of the gym; he had pulled up the tail of his shirt and was wiping the sweat from his forehead. His stomach looked smoothly rippled with a sheen of sweat which caught the afternoon light. With the agile grace of a teen athlete, he dropped his shirt and smiled and spoke as he walked by me. I smiled as I returned the greeting, now knowing what I would be replaying in my mind as I jacked off when I got home that day.
Yanking my mind back to the more pressing present moment, I quickly completed the lecture and gave out the written assignment. As the class got busy, I saw Taylor look back at me a couple of times, then look down at his desk. I turned to go sit down when, my underwear snagged my privates, grabbing the whole package quite uncomfortably as underwear will only do in the MOST compromising public places. Seeing no one looking up, I decided to go ahead and adjust myself. As I looked back up, my eyes met Taylor's and that is when I saw it. He, too, was adjusting himself again... while staring at me. I sheepishly smiled at him, not really knowing what to do, but suddenly realizing that he may know the score, I uncomfortably walked back to my desk and sat down. I decided to grade some papers and focus my mind in other more productive directions.
After a few minutes, I see a shadow fall upon my desk. Looking up from my work, my eyes panned across one of the most beautiful young men one can imagine; it was Taylor needing a bathroom pass. As he asked, it was apparent why he needed it. Suddenly, the next thing I know, my drink is tipping over; in our haste to catch it, I accidentally brushed his crotch. I caught my breath... not from the accident of spilling the drink, but from feeling this hard teen cock against my arm. I excused myself immediately for bumping him, my voice a little too shaky. He apologized profusely for spilling my drink. I sent him on and called Mrs. Hall to come watch my class as I had to get the drink off my clothes.
As I went out the door, I realised that I would have to strip somewhat to get cleaned up, so, rather than going to the main bathroom closest to my class, I decided to go down the hall and around the corner to the smaller one on the far side of the building. Interestingly, it had a lock on it, so I knew that I could take off my wet shirt and rinse the sticky cola out without student interruptions. (That's what I get for not staying with the diet drinks...) I went into the bathroom and seeing no one there, {or so I thought...} I locked the door. I took off my shirt and my pants and rinsed them out; I dried the jeans with towels as there were only two small spots and put them back on. My shirt, however, was soaked with the cola and would have to air dry a few minutes before I could put it back on.
As I finished drying out my shirt, I looked up at the mirror and admired myself for a moment. It was not so much out of vanity, but out of a sense of accomplishment at how far I have come after deciding to get in shape... and deciding to stay that way. I had grown to love going to the gym, feeling the burn of the lifting of the weights and enjoying the scenery that made itself at home there. For a moment, a thought crowded into my mind of being back in high school myself. Pudgy, not particularly popular and very self-conscious, for a brief moment, I almost saw the kid looking back at me.
Just as quickly, I shook those thoughts. My ratio of fat/thin and muscle/flab had fluctuated all my adult life. But now, pushing 40 with dark curly hair, no wrinkles and slabs of muscle, I grinned at the realization that, "yeah, I would make love to myself..." It felt good to be able to make a head or two turn for the RIGHT reason.
I rubbed my pec, still a little sore from the chest part of my workout rotation, and felt a tingle as my hand brushed my nipple; the tingle went all the way to my crotch and I found my other hand rubbing my stomach, which, while not a washboard, was nice and smooth with a dusting of light fur. Right then, I decided that while I had a few minutes waiting for the shirt to dry, I would take care of that morning wood after all. Mrs. Hall would not mind keeping my class for that long; it saved her from having to answer the phone.
I walked over to the far stall and pulled on the door; it wouldn't open. I guess I was not really observant; I just figured that a kid had locked it from the inside and crawled out... a typical stunt, so I went to the other stall on the right. I hung my shirt on the door to dry on the hook on the back of the door, pushed down my jeans and sat down. The walls were covered with writing... the typical "Looking for a good time..." or about some girl, "______ sucks cocks" with a phone number. I eyed the walls of the partition and wondered about a couple of names I recognized from other classes I had taught.
I ran my hands down my torso, feeling my muscles beneath the skin. I wrapped my hand around my cock and had just began beating it gently up and down when I heard it.... a slapping noise in the other stall. Surprised, I leaned over slightly and realized that there actually was someone in the other stall. I knew what the sound was instantly and so I decided not to let it bother me as whoever was in the other stall was apparently there for the same purpose, so, I just decided to continue. Suddenly, I saw a leg without pants on around its ankle move toward the partition. The leg leaned outward toward the partition, the overhead light shadowing it on the floor. I could'nt help it... I leaned to the left and looked down to the right at an angle and saw it... a shadow of a hand working a fully hard cock over the edge of the commode.
This was too much. I was so hard that precum had already begun to ooze from the head of my cock. I worked the precum around the head and, using it as lube, I slowly continued to jack my cock. Having been in a tea room once or twice in college, I assumed that this situation was the same. I knew the code. In my pent up frustation and longing, I let my horniness get past my better judgement and tapped my foot. Almost immediately, the foot attached to the naked leg tapped back. So I tapped again; again this guy responded. Finally, I decided to take my career into my hands and figured, "What the fuck... if they did not want this they would not be here..."
I assumed further that the guy on the other side of the partition might have been the swim coach, whom I believe is gay. This part of the building, just off the gym, usually does not have any students in it during first block. The section was generally quiet until the electives during second and third period, so, I became certain that this had to be another instructor. The guy in the stall finally moved his foot until it almost touched mine and tapped. I tapped back and as I did, he suddenly stretched out his leg.
Finally, overcome by the sight of the swirls of hair on this muscular, naked leg, I lifted my right leg out of my jeans, turned, and knelt on the floor facing the partition. I felt my cock graze the hair on his leg as I touched the floor sending a shiver through my body. With shaking hand, I reached out and caressed his leg as he turned. The next thing I know, two muscular thighs, obviously those of an athlete, eased down and forward into mine and I felt my leg brushed by the hardest cock I had ever felt.
He jacked his cock quickly and hard and in that moment, I realized that this was not a teacher after all, but a young athlete with all the impatience of youth. I felt a moment of panic, then realized it was too late to turn back now. I gently eased my hand toward him and stayed his wrist as I jacked mine slowly. Getting the idea, he reached across and gently touched my cock. I moved my hand from his wrist and touched his cock. He took my hand and placed it on his as he reached for my throbbing cock. Slowly we jacked each other, my other hand occasionally reaching up to pinch my hard nipples. Curious about this stud and anxious for still more, I reached under the partition with my free hand and touched his abs. I felt his sharp intake of air, then his hand moving mine up his body as far as the partition would allow. Apparently he was equally curious as I felt his hand begin to grope up my front. I gently took it and guided it, feeling his warm hand move against my skin. He took his finger and traced my goodie trail to my cock, then gently cupped my balls which were now heavy with cum. I deftly reached below him and gave his sack a gentle tug, feeling the heftiness of his orbs in my hand. A sudden gasp and a short grunt of pleasure let me know that this was appreciated.
Soon, I realized that we were both getting very close. He scrunched up closer so that we could both work each other's cocks better. As his balls touched my leg, I could feel the hairs of our legs touch each other... a sensual tickle which seemed to heighten both our arousals as I felt his cock throb again, seemingly even larger. His precum, which initially had been just a drop or two now was dripping onto my leg. I, too, was slick with precum which wet this kid's hand. Suddenly, I felt him grab my leg and his entire body tensed. I heard the catch of his breath as a rope of cum arced from his hard cock onto my leg and torso. The moment his cum hit my skin, I erupted with my own load. I was lost to my senses... only knowing that it seemed with each burst of cum I shot, another volly hit me in the abs from the kid's throbbing tool. As we both come down from our orgasm, I looked down to see us both covered in spunk, the acrid smell of fresh cum delightfully mixing with the fresh male heat from this guy's body. Finally remembering myself and where we were, I stood up and sat down on the commode. As I heard paper unroll and the clank of the other guy's belt buckle as he was getting dressed, I leaned back and savored the feel of this stud's cum on my skin. I raised my hand to my mouth and touched his cum to my tongue. Sweet, yet salty, I had forgotten how good it could taste. As his cum started to liquify on my body, I reached down and rubbed it slowly into my skin. His juices glided smoothly beneath my hand and then were a memory.
In a moment, I heard the other stall door pop open and the sound of his footfalls heading for the door. I rolled out some paper and wiped the remaining stickiness of his essence off my hand. As I reached for my shirt, I knocked it off of the hook and into the floor. I jerked it up thinking, "That's all I need is to go back to class with cum spots on my shirt from off of the floor." Pausing for a moment, it occurred to me that I had not heard the outside door unlock and open; the guy had not left yet, but was standing by the door. But, as I slipped on my shirt, I finally heard the door pop and realized that he had left, freeing me to go back to class.
Deciding not to take the extra time to wash my hands, I eased out the door and, seeing no one in the hallway, made my way quickly back to my room. I was a little concerned as I had now been out of the room long enough to possibly raise an eyebrow or more. As I walked, I breathed deeply to steel my nerves and not look as guiltily paranoid as I was beginning to feel. I popped open the door to my class and was relieved to see that everything was normal. I sat down at my desk, dismissed Mrs. Hall, relieved that she had no concerns about how long I had been gone, and quietly reveled in the realization that I could still enjoy the smell of the young man's cum on my hands.
I had planned to keep the class busy today on a writing assignment, so I went to the board and wrote the assignment down for the class. Turning around, I glanced over at Taylor, who had set this entire situation in motion. As I watched him writing, his head down and leaning seemingly seductively upon his hand, I thought, "Boy, what a shame it wasn't his body that I was just enjoying...he is so hot..." The top button of his shirt was still undone and I could still see his firm, rounded pecs and the flaring tops of both shoulders as I looked down the collar of his shirt. To my partial surprise, aggravation, and yes, pleasure, I found my cock already getting hard again. It was going to be a terribly long day until school was out and I could get home, strip down and take care of my cock again.
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Well, that is the end of installment #2. THANKS to you who have sent feedback; I've enjoyed reading it. Let me know your thoughts about continued installments or whatever.
Feel free to drop me a line at LFSEX@hotmail.com.