I suppose most people think that we teachers have our greatest problems with unwilling students. Wrong...the problems are more often with other teachers or the administration.
I'm a high school math teacher, and I think I'm a damn good one. I'm twenty-eight years old and have been teaching for six years, and seeing my students learn gives me the greatest possible satisfaction. But sometimes, teaching is damn frustrating.
Last Tuesday, I was furious. I'd been called into the Principal's office after my classes were done, and told that an exception was being made for Junior Thurgood, one of the football players. The exception meant that he would be excused from a test the next day, and therefore, the results wouldn't interfere with his eligibility to play in the football game Friday night.
When I stormed out of the Principal's office, I was boiling, and when I get angry I have a real temper. Not content with having complained bitterly and at great length to the Principal, with no satisfaction, I walked determinedly toward the athletic department to confront them too.
Now I confess, I am not an athlete. It's my third year at this school, and I've never even been in the athletic department offices. It's not that I don't care about the school's teams. I always put in an appearance at the big games, and I always try to be accommodating about letting players leave class early when they need to. But in this case, the truth is that I felt my job was to teach these kids, and I resented anything that made that more difficult or as in this case, diminished the importance of classwork.
I knew where the athletic department's offices were, in a general way, and walked directly there. I climbed the stairs, made a right turn, and suddenly found myself in the boy's locker room.
Now, even though I'm a gay man, I always make it a point not to look at my male students 'that way.' I really do. So imagine my surprise to come face to face, so to speak, with about ten naked high school football players. Suddenly before my eyes was a parade of naked bodies, with cocks and balls swinging from well built young guys, and believe me, it's hard to keep your composure when you're faced with that.
"Where's Mr. Larson's office?" I asked of the nearest one, fixing him straight in the eye. He pointed to the left and I turned and headed that way.
"I think he's in the coach's locker room," the young man said after me, "It's the second door there on your left."
"Thank you," I said, and with my anger now roiling up again, I knocked sharply on the door of the locker room and walked in.
If I'd been startled by the nude boys, now I was practically overwhelmed. Standing ten feet from me was one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen in my life, and he was stark naked. I did see his face first, but helplessly my eyes swept down over the strong, hairy chest and the flat stomach, down to a very substantial endowment below. I estimated that he was about the same age as me.
"Oh," I said, instantly embarrassed, "I'm sorry to barge in like that."
"It's okay," he said, smiling beautifully as he drew a towel around himself. It successfully covered his lower half, but left the top half naked for me to admire.
"You're Mr. Barnett, aren't you?" he asked in a well modulated voice.
"Yes, Scott Barnett," I said, walking toward him and stretching out my hand.
"Don Larson," he answered as we shook hands, "Can I help you with something?" He was the new football coach and physical education teacher who'd just started two and a half months before. We'd never actually met before though I'd seen him at various faculty meetings.
"I don't know," I said, "Frankly I'm here to complain about this business concerning Junior Thurgood. I really don't think it's right for you to interfere with my trying to teach him math. He needs to learn that too."
"I agree, Scott," he said quietly, "May I call you that?"
"Certainly," I said.
"Let me assure you, I didn't ask for any special consideration for Junior," he said, "In my view, if he doesn't get the grades, he shouldn't be playing football?"
"You didn't?" I asked, the wind suddenly gone from my sails, "I'm sorry, but I just assumed it was you. But then, who did?"
"I think it was the Principal himself who started all this," he said, quietly again, "It wasn't me. Evidently he thinks that we have a better chance of winning if Junior plays."
I laughed. I couldn't help myself. Here I was, all set to really go at it about academic excellence and I had no foe. I felt his eyes looking at me and finally met their deep blue gaze.
"I feel very silly," I said finally, "And I'm very embarrassed."
"Don't be," he said quietly, then smiled again. "I'm just as glad that you're not angry at me anymore. I have a hunch you'd be a real dynamo on the warpath."
"It's just that I get so frustrated with things like this," I said, leaning against the table behind me, "I'm sure you can understand."
He smiled broadly again and his face lit up. His smile was as warm as sunshine.
"Sure I can," he said. He started to turn away then turned back to face me. "Hey, how about waiting until I get dressed, then I'll buy you a drink. Just to let you know I'm sorry about the whole thing."
"Really, I don't want to inconvenience you. It was my mistake," I said.
"Forget about that," he said, "Besides, we've never even met, and as colleagues we should at least get acquainted."
"Well, okay," I said, "But only if you let me buy the second round." We both smiled and nodded, then I said I wanted to go back to my office and that I'd meet him at the exit to the parking lot.
I stood there and helplessly watched his very sexy ass as he headed for the showers, then turned and walked back to my office.
Chapter 2.
I waited for him with more than a little nervousness. I feel that I can hold my own and can make reasonably intelligent conversation about most things, and with straight guys. But he was so damn good-looking that I warned myself to be especially careful about what I said and did, and to try not to look at him in the wrong way.
He came along in several minutes, wearing pretty snug fitting dress pants and a white shirt. He carried a sport coat over his arm.
"Sorry I took so long," he said, "You pick the place, and I even have a tie if one's required."
"Oh no," I said, "I know a quiet little place that's very casual." I stripped off my own tie. The bar I was referring to was one some of the teachers go to on occasion, though I go with them rather infrequently.
"There now," I said, "That feels better anyway." We walked out into the very warm early evening, and as we walked to the parking lot, I took off my suit jacket too.
It turned out that our cars were parked not far from each other, and I noted with interest that his was a late model car. I pondered the matter of comparative pay for teachers and coaches, but quickly shrugged it off.
"I'll follow wherever you lead," he said with a smile and a wink as we got to our cars. I smiled and nodded, started my car and drove off. It wasn't far and he followed me into the parking lot and we both walked toward the entrance together.
"Nice car," I said, waiting briefly for him.
"Yeah," he said, "Fortunately my dad's a car dealer so I got a good price on it. It would be hard to buy a new car on what the school pays me."
I nodded in agreement and we went in, got our drinks and were soon seated at a table in the corner. The bar was only about a third filled and so our conversation was very private.
"You okay, now?" he asked, smiling a little.
"Yes, I'm fine," I answered, "I am sorry, but it just gets me so frustrated. Junior's not a stupid kid, he's not even slow. He just won't put forth the effort to study, and when he's allowed to get by with it, like this time, he'll play it to the hilt. What's really aggravating is when he does take that test he'll have no incentive to pass it."
"Tell you what," Don said, "I'll talk to him. I can't promise anything, but maybe I can get him to work harder." I thanked him for the offer, though I secretly doubted he could have any impact on the boy.
"Tell me about you," Don said suddenly, catching me off guard, "How long have you been here?"
"This is my third year here," I said, "I taught over at Boynton for the three years before that. It was okay, but this is just a better school in some ways."
"Not athletically," he said, rather ruefully, "But they offered to let me coach right away, with just a few of years teaching experience. Most of the other schools would only promise to consider letting me get into coaching in a few more years. So I decided to come here and see what I could do to build the program."
We talked on about the school, the students, the Principal, and so forth. He was very pleasant and an easy guy to talk to. When the conversation began to shift to more personnel subjects, I started to get more nervous.
"You married?" he asked directly but conversationally, as I set down the second round of drinks.
"Nope," I said, adding "Not yet" possibly a shade too late for it to sound genuine, "You?"
"No," he said, "Not even any likely prospects."
"That's hard to believe," I said, "You're a good looking guy. You won't have any trouble once you get to know some women around here."
He smiled again, a slow, easy smile that made me smile in return.
"Tell me," I said, "I thought all you football coaches were big, burly guys. You sure don't fit that image."
"Well," he said, "The truth is that those big bruisers are mostly the defensive players. I played football at the small college I went to, but I was on the offense, and we don't need to be quite as big. I also coach baseball where the guys are pretty normal sized. What about you? Do you play any sports?"
"Honestly, no," I said quietly, "I've tried playing tennis and bowling and even golf, but I guess I just don't have any coordination."
"Maybe you just need someone to teach you how," he said, smiling again, "You seem to have a good build and all the right parts, from what I can see." His eyes swept down the length of my body and that and his remark caught me off guard. I felt my face growing red, but I tried to carry on.
"I doubt it," I said, "But if that's an offer, maybe I'll take you up on it one of these days." I didn't believe it was, and I doubted I'd ever pursue it, but it seemed the right thing to say.
"I guess I'm not really a very competitive person," I went on nervously, noting how his eyes swept over my body.
"You don't have to be a fighter to have fun at sports," he said quietly, "Besides, it's good exercise."
We talked on and he offered me another drink. Overcoming some reservations, I accepted and sat watching as he walked to the bar.
He was incredibly handsome. He was probably two or three inches over six feet tall and had thick but short-cropped dark brown hair. His very dark brown eyes were framed by very long eyelashes. His face was nice and he had an absolutely beautiful mouth. That's one of my weaknesses in a man's face.
His body was extremely sexy and he moved with the kind of fluid grace of movement which I always associate with ballet dancers and natural athletes. Midway through our third drink, he leaned forward and spoke, his face very close to mine.
"I like you, Scott Brandon. You're fun to be with. I think you're very nice too."
There was something about the way he'd said the words that made me feel he was making a pass at me, despite the innocence of the words. I felt flattered, even as it scared the hell out of me. Fortunately, my instincts and experience at cruising took over and I thought I handled it well.
"I like you too," I said, mocking his seriousness and leaning forward until our faces were just inches apart, "So there, Don Larson." I sat back quickly and smiled at him.
"I didn't mean to upset you," he said quietly, "But you're the first guy I've met here who's been at all friendly."
"I know," I agreed, "The school has a lot of older teachers who aren't very friendly." Actually, the only other teacher I was friends with was the art teacher, David Gaine, who's also gay. We met by chance once at a gay bar and have been friends ever since. He's got a lover though, so we mostly just see each other at school or if one of us invites the other over for dinner which we do sometimes.
"Let's be friends, then," he said, sitting back in his chair, "I'd like that." I agreed willingly and thus we became friends.
Chapter 3.
I couldn't get Don out of my mind, even after we left the bar and I'd driven home and had dinner. I tried watching television, reading, anything I could think of, but I kept thinking about how attractive and pleasant Don had been. I just couldn't get the image of him out of my mind.
Finally in desperation, I went to bed and beat off, hoping that at least that would let me relax and go to sleep. It worked, but I slept fitfully, and woke several times still thinking of him.
By coincidence, we happened to drive into the teacher's parking lot the next morning at almost the same time and Don honked his horn and waved when he realized it was me. I answered with a wave as we both got out of their cars and started walking into school together.
"You over being mad?" Don asked, grinning broadly. I felt my face flush, but at the same time I thought I'd seen Don's gaze sweep down his body appraisingly which intrigued me. As we walked along, I felt slightly heady at the prospect that he was actually cruising me, but I told myself to stop the wishful thinking.
"You gonna come to our game tonight?" he called to me. I hadn't planned to, but hated to say 'no' to him.
"Sure," I called back. He walked over to where I was standing.
"If you don't mind coming a little early, how about if I pick up you?" he asked. "Then we could get something to eat after the game."
"Sure," I said, "Then you can explain the finer points of the game to me. I told you I'm pretty dumb about football."
"Okay," he said with a big smile, "I'll tell you what to watch for on the way to the game." I started to give him my address as we walked in, but he stopped me.
"I know where you live," he said, "I read it on the teacher's roster."
"Right," I answered weakly, feeling somewhat confused. We parted at the doorway and he called after me.
"See you about five-thirty."
"Okay, I'll be ready," I called back.
I was sitting in the teacher's lounge later that morning, having a cup of coffee, when I heard a couple of other teachers talking nearby. They were on the other side of some bookcases and obviously didn't realize I was sitting there.
"I don't know about this new crop of teachers we're getting here," said one, Mrs. Goring, an English teacher whose voice I recognized, "I think maybe somebody on that hiring committee is biased in favor of young men. Several of them are nice looking, but I just hope they can teach as well as they look."
"Well, I keep hoping I can get one of them to meet my niece," answered another female voice I didn't recognize. "Both Mr. Brandon and that new coach seem very eligible to me, if you know what I mean."
"I hear what you're saying, dear," answered the English teacher, "But I have a hunch they're both 'ineligible' in another way, if you take my meaning."
"Oh really," the other voice answered, "That's impossible. I mean they're both so masculine." The two voices trailed off as they walked toward the other end of the lounge.
"Wonder where she gets her information?" I asked myself as I finished my coffee and left the lounge, studiously looking the other way.
I pondered the question of whether Don could be gay too, but decided it was ridiculous to believe that some old biddy actually had any insight on such things. I put it out of my mind and went about my business. As I drove home from school, the thought popped into my mind again.
"Wonder what she'd think of us having a date tonight?" Despite the outcome holding appealing prospects, I decided I was just being silly and tried to shrug it off.
I showered and dressed for the game, choosing clothes that would be appropriate both for a football game and my role as a teacher. I selected dark grey slacks, a white knit shirt and a navy sweater.
Don was very prompt and I was glad I was ready. Don was wearing a coat and tie which I later realized is the established dress for a coach on the sidelines. I had to admit that he looked just as handsome as ever. In fact, it didn't seem to matter what he wore or didn't wear, I reflected as I recalled our first meeting in the locker room.
"I hope this is okay," I said, gesturing to my attire, "I can put on a tie if you want."
"Oh no," Don said, "This is just a formality among coaches. I'll take mine off as soon as the game is over. You look terrific." He smiled beautifully and I blushed, but just thanked him for the compliment and we left.
As they drove to the school, Don talked about the game and what he saw as his team's excellent chances to win. He talked about the strengths and weaknesses of the team openly, and told me who he thought were the best players on the team. His enthusiasm was very infectious, and I was really looking forward to the game by the time we got to school. He headed off for the gym, smiling and winking at me as he went, and I took a seat in the bleachers directly behind the team benches and waited.
I talked with several other teachers who had come to watch the game, and pointedly ignored the Principal when I saw him coming. I wasn't rude. Instead I just turned and talked to someone else and avoided having to speak to him.
It was quite a good game, and our team was up 14-3 at half-time. As the players left the field, Don glanced up in my direction and I smiled and applauded. He just smiled slightly, then turned and walked off the field. I had a Coke with several of the other teachers, and was surprised when I ran into David and his lover.
"Oh, we come to all the games," David said, gesturing to his lover, "Lou likes to watch football, and I think it's kind of fun too."
"He really just comes to stare at the new coach," Louie said, "He wasn't so enthusiastic last year when old Coach Dwyer was still here."
"Have you met him, Scott?" David asked, "He's so good looking and he seems nice too." I nodded but didn't add anything.
The second half of the game was very exciting and our school's team extended their lead and won the game 28-10. There was a great deal of cheering and excitement among the students and parents, and I admit I cheered right along with them, though I was mostly I realized that I was cheering for the coach.
Don had told me he had to come back to the locker room when the game was over, so I made my way to his office to wait for him. I quickly realized how difficult an office it would be for me as it looked out over the locker room which was again full of naked young guys heading to the showers after the game. I tried to stop myself from looking, but I'm only human.
When Don walked in, he was beaming from ear to ear. I congratulated him and we shook hands, then I waited while he went out and gave the team a short speech full of praise, but also a warning that next week's game would be even tougher. He spoke well and had a real impact on his young charges.
"Any preferences about where eat?" he asked as we walked to his car in the now deserted parking lot. When I said I didn't, he went on.
"I found a kind of nice Italian restaurant a couple of weeks ago, how about that?" I agreed readily and he drove there. I'd never been to the restaurant, but it was just half a block from one of the nicer gay bars in town which is one of my 'regular' haunts. I smiled to myself as we walked into the restaurant, wondering if we'd see any of the clientele from down the street.
We'd talked almost exclusively about the game during the drive, and it was obvious that Don was very pleased with the game, not just the score but also how the team had played.
"Did you notice that I didn't have Junior play at all during the second half?" he asked after several minutes, "I told him that if he didn't improve his grades he would be playing less and less each week." I realized that this was a concession to me, and thanked him for it.
"Let's just hope Junior gets the message," he said, "I don't want you to get angry at me again."
"Come on," I said, "Let me live that one down, huh?" He gave me a kind of 'hang dog' look and then smiled broadly. We ordered wine and when it came I suggested a toast to the team's victory.
"Thanks," he said, smiling after he set his drink down again, "Now let's talk about something else. I don't want to talk just about the game, do you?"
We had a nice dinner, and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Not only was he attractive, but he was also an excellent conversationalist who knew just how to make you believe what you were saying was the most important thing. We sure covered a wide range of topics and I found myself relaxing more and more.
When we finished dinner, I insisted that we split the check, to which he finally agreed. As we left the restaurant, he suggested a night cap and started walking toward the bar down the street. Suddenly, I panicked at the thought that he didn't know it was a gay bar and if anyone spoke to me, it would prove very embarrassing. I stopped abruptly.
"No, let's go," I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back in the opposite direction to where his car was parked.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," I lied, "I just have to get up early tomorrow."
He raised his eyebrows slightly but acquiesced and we got back in the car and drove to my place. I was feeling embarrassed about the way I'd acted so as we neared my house, I invited him in to stop at my apartment for a nightcap instead.
"You sure?" he asked, "I thought you had to get up early."
"I'm sure," I said, getting out of the car.
Chapter 4.
I'd poured the drinks and when I walked back into the living room of my apartment, Don was standing, looking at the books and the records on the bookshelves.
"An interesting collection," he said as I handed him his drink, "I always think you can tell a lot about someone by what books they choose to keep."
I quickly glanced at the bookshelves, wondering whether I'd left anything embarrassing there. I'm not a big collector of gay literature, though I've read most of it. I do keep copies of a few gay novels I think are classics, but remembered that they were safely stowed in the bedroom closet.
"I guess you'd say I have an eclectic range of interests," I said.
"You think we jocks only know about sports, huh?" he asked with a smile.
"No, I didn't mean that," I countered, "I just never thought you'd...."
"That's okay," he answered, "I'll just have to prove that I'm not the stereotype you expected."
We sat and talked while we had our drink, then had a second one. I guess that's what started my tongue wagging.
"You were something of a topic of conversation in the teacher's lounge today," I said quietly, and his interested immediately piqued.
In the final analysis, I told him what the English teacher had suggested about him, but tried to make a joke out of it by adding that the old biddy obviously didn't know what she was talking about.
"There's a lot about me that you don't know," he said quietly. Suddenly he was looking at me intensely.
"What do you mean? What's wrong?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"Why didn't you want to stop at that bar tonight? he asked pointedly.
"I don't know," I lied, "I guess I'm not too partial for bars."
"Is it because it was a gay bar?" he asked directly and I felt myself blush deeply.
"No...I mean, is it?" I tried to put up a good front but knew I wasn't successful.
He walked over to where I sat on the sofa and looked down at me. Then I saw a deep yearning in his eyes, as he sat down next to me on the sofa.
"Sure hope I'm right about this," he said. He moved closer and closer until our lips touched. I felt his arms encircle me as my whole body quivered in response to his embrace. Years of carefully developed reserve went right down the drain and we were soon locked in an intense kiss.
"Oh God, I've wanted to do that for such a long time," Don said quietly when our lips parted many minutes later, "Really...from the first time I saw you."
"Me too," I answered, "But I never thought you'd...."
"You think too much sometimes," he whispered, and my words were interrupted as he kissed me again, even more passionately than before, his tongue searching deeply into my mouth. We both moaned with pleasure, and we were soon stretched out on the sofa, bodies pressed hard against each other.
All caution was gone now, as I was swept up in passion and desire for him.
"Let's go in the bedroom," I whispered finally. Don pulled away from me and smiled.
"Oh God yes," he said, his eyes intense, "I want you."
We moved to the bedroom and I kicked off my shoes and started taking off my sweater.
"Mmm," he said, gently groping the bulge at my crotch, "I want this too."
"Uh-huh," I mumbled, stripping out of my clothes quickly. "Me too."
When we both got our pants off, he knelt in front of me and quickly slid my shorts down. My cock bounced up to its fully erect seven and a half inches.
"Hey, that's beautiful," he moaned, licking all around the head before taking over half of it into his mouth. He sucked expertly and I felt the electric shocks spread throughout my body as he went on, driving me crazy.
"I want yours too, Don," I whispered, but he groaned and stayed where he was.
"Later," he said leading me to the bed, "Lay down on the bed. I want you first."
I laid down, and he crawled between my legs, quickly sucking first one and then the other of my balls into his mouth. He gulped my cock and I groaned loudly as he took the full length down his throat and started sucking it wildly. This guy was seriously talented.
After many minutes of his hot sucking, he let my cock slide from his lips and began working his way up across my stomach and chest, licking and kissing my body the whole way.
"You're so sexy," he whispered, moving further up my chest. He stopped to nibble gently on each nipple as I groaned softly, then finally we were kissing again as my whole body quivered against his.
He'd gotten me so damn hot that I couldn't help myself. I grabbed his basket and felt his rock-hard shaft straining against his shorts.
"Please, Don," I begged, "I want your cock too."
He moved into a sixty-nine position quickly as he gulped my cock back into his mouth. I finally got his shorts pulled down and his cock and balls were revealed. My memory from our first meeting wasn't wrong. He was hung big, and now fully hard, it reached to over eight inches and very thick.
"Mmm," I said as I sucked the first half of his cock into my mouth as he moaned sensuously. It took quite a while before I was able take the full length of his cock, but I finally succeeded in getting the whole length down into my throat, which caused him to call out.
"Oh God," he cried, "Do that again!"
"Uh-huh," I mumbled, unable to talk as I did what he'd asked. He was sucking almost all of my seven and a half inch cock into his mouth, and for many minutes, we were each deep throating the other's meat to the fullest.
His sucking my rod felt terrific, and I knew my climax was near, but I tried to fight it, wanting to satisfy him first. He was too good, and I couldn't hold it off.
"I'm gonna come, Don...I can't help it!" I shouted as with wild spasms, my cock erupted deep in his mouth.
"Mmm," he groaned, savoring the nectar my cock was shooting into his mouth. He kept sucking on my cock as he started fucking his cock deeper and deeper into my mouth as his passion increased. Finally letting my cock slip from his mouth, he called out.
"Oh, yes! Suck it! I'm gonna come! Oh God yes, that's fantastic!"
I braced myself as his huge cock started to throb then erupted deep in my throat. I moved back and tasted his hot man juices, then swallowed repeatedly as his great load shot wildly. I took it down my throat again when it had subsided, and nursed his cock for the last drops.
"Wow!" he said. "You're incredible. I mean that was wonderful. I'm still shaking."
"Me too," I answered, "You did a hell of a job too."
"Come up here and kiss me, you hot dude," he said, taking me into his arms and holding me as our lips met in a deep, tongues exploring kiss. I felt wonderful next to him, his naked skin hot and sweaty against my body.
We stayed there for at least another hour, making love and kissing, talking and laughing.
"Was I really that obvious?" I asked after a number of minutes, "I would never have believed a butch guy like you was gay."
Don chuckled to himself then smiled at me.
"I'll show you just how butch I am one of these days," he said, turning over and rubbing his sexy buns against my crotch.
"Whoa...I mean...." I stammered.
"To answer your question," he said, "No, you weren't obvious. There were a couple of hints maybe, but I wasn't at all sure."
"You scared me a little bit," I admitted. "I mean, you were so nice and so good-looking, but I couldn't believe it."
"Well," he said, "When you refused to go to the bar tonight, I thought maybe you weren't gay. Then you told me what that teacher had said and that made me think maybe you were okay. Anyway, finally I just decided to take the chance. I figured maybe I could pretend I was kidding around...acting out what the teacher said, you know...if you were straight." He looked at me intently again.
"Any regrets?" he asked, but I shook my head.
"None at all," I said quietly, "It's just too wonderful."
We spent the whole night and the following two days together, hardly bothering to dress. By the time he left to go home and get ready for school on Monday, we'd had sex about every way I've ever tried before and more.
I'd never felt happier nor more content with myself, which I admitted honestly as I shaved that morning.
It was the beginning of a long, serious adventure, which just keeps getting better and better. Don's taught me more about life than anyone I've ever known, and I love him deeply. In fact, I admit I love being this teacher's pet.