tagGay MaleHorny Teachers

Horny Teachers

byCoxswain©

I was horny. No doubt about it. The day started with a look at a surveyor outside my apartment--working his transit out in the street. He was a big, muscular guy who looked like he'd stretch me happy around his big cock. Any man with broad shoulders like those and pecs that bulged his t-shirt had to be hung. Fuck, what a body. Perfect.

My apartment was close to the high school, so I walked. Spotted a postman wearing shorts in the hot autumn weather. Carried a big leather bag. Probably had another one between his legs. Damn, I was horny. I could imagine that guy's postmark jolting me as his hips slammed into mine.

It had been too long. My asshole ached to stretch out over a big cock, to feel a man's seed surging up inside me. My first teaching job, though, in 1959, was in a little town. Orange groves. Old farmhouses. Plenty of well-built farm laborers, but I hadn't spotted a single man who'd return "the look." Conservative place. I had to be careful--didn't want to get fired or beat up. Or both.

But damn, I was horny. Every man looked good. Even the old man with a beard who stood raking the leaves. He was healthy, strong, and--I just knew it--hung. Fuck, I wanted to get laid! Will I have to drive all the way back to L.A. this weekend?

Once at the school I went to the office to fill out some reports. Banging away at the typewriter, I watched as the football team came in to sign bus rosters or whatever for the trip to the away game. Big kids, all of them.

The biggest one, Tom Prandon, a linebacker, was a stud famous throughout the school. I had him in my last class of the day. The kid was a legend. Even as a teacher in this first month I'd heard of dozens of girls he had fucked. I got that feeling deep in my guts, like a guitar chord strummed through my balls. What would he be like, breeding those cheerleaders, stretching their cunts, getting their cherries, turning them into women! Damn hunky kid. I couldn't stop imagining him nude in the showers. Made me wish I had studied physical education. A coach could see him anytime he wanted.

I daydreamed again. Tom Prandon's got a big one. Uncut. Thick. And long. When it stiffens up, his cockhead appears out of the foreskin, sticking out moist and slimy, and then I touch it with my tongue--No! I shook my head, regained control of myself, and typed away at my reports.

But Prandon, the big 18-year-old senior, the big guy, came strutting by where I was working. Damn, he was a monster. Looked older than his age. What would it be like to be fucked by him? How would my asshole stretch around his big hose? I'd never seen it, of course, but as he walked by me, I could almost feel it! I'd heard girls whisper about it when they thought I couldn't hear, but something down deep in my balls guaranteed me that kid had a big cock!

My belly knotted up, and my own dick hardened. Fuck, I don't dare stand up. I bowed my head, anything to keep away from the magnet of that hunky looking kid. He was masculinity on wheels. Muscles. Curly black hair. Even had a 5 o'clock shadow at his age. Face like a movie star. A leather jacket. Tight jeans. I could almost smell his sperm.

Something worse: he seemed to know the power he had. It was like waves radiated from him to me. Somehow I knew he wore briefs, not boxers. Tight things. High cut legs. Low waistband. A Speedo in white cotton. I caught my breath, trying to look at the typewriter keyboard. A huge bulge in front, a white pouch straining around a heavy package. That huge cock. Foreskin over his red cockhead like a hood. A drop of precum oozes out of it, and I catch it on my tongue--

--I caught myself breathing heavier, and I bit my lip, anything to stop the arousal. But I glanced to the side. He stood there, body toward me, his crotch at the level of my face. A big bulge. Huge. Like he stuffed a baseball in there.

I felt the spiral starting up again, and I shook my head. No! I am not getting horny over this kid!! I risked a glance upward. He wasn't even looking at me. His body faced me, but his head was turned to look at the principal, who was telling them something about the bus ride to the football game.

But the big bulge in his pants was right at my face. He knows. Somehow he knows what he does to me. I gulped, so horny I was literally on the verge of cumming in my pants.

But he did nothing. Just stood there, sex waves throbbing out of that big bulge, and I swear I could feel the heat from it on my face. I ached to reach out and cup that huge basket in my hand, but I forced myself to resist.

I looked at the typewriter. I had typed the same word over and over. I was losing it, and I was in trouble. But finally, miraculously, the football team finished its business and trooped out of the office. I let out a sigh. I had beads of sweat on my face. That was a close one.

That's the way the day started out, even before classes began. Throughout the rest of the day, I had more horny experiences. Hunky kids scratching their balls as they sat in their desks. I taught senior English, so all my students were 18. Fully developed. Big bulges in tight jeans.

Even the faculty lounge wasn't safe. Coach Cadze seemed to know what to say to make me hot. "Never saw a kid like that Prandon," he chuckled. "Hung like a horse." Those words gave me an itch at my back door.

I tried to get away from him--couldn't stand to hear such stuff--but he followed me across the room with his coffee cup. Coach Cadze pushed all my buttons--almost as if he knew he was. "Kid's like a jet fighter, aggressive, powerful, well armed." He laughed. "You should see him when he's stiffened up. I feel sorry for those cheerleaders on the nights we win. Or even when we lose!" Yuk, yuk.

Still later in the day, another bit of stimulus: a couple of bullies yanked down Arnold Gilliam's pants. No big deal, really, just an embarrassment for the poor kid. He just needed a little reassurance, etc. The other boys ran off when they saw me, and I walked over to give Arnold a little arm-around-the-shoulder sympathy.

He, too, was a senior and 18 years old, but he was a wimp. The school nerd. Short for his age. Tousled, dirty-blond hair. Poor kid had pimples and crooked teeth. Wore glasses. He was facing away as I walked up, struggling to pick up his books and pull up his pants. When I stepped in front of him, damn! Little Arnold Gilliam was hung! I helped him pull his briefs up--God, what a cock! and helped him pull up his pants.

I fought myself down! My hand craved to grope just once more over that big bulge--Little Gilliam! Who woulda thunk??--but I didn't. I sent him on his way with a hardon snaking down my pantleg again.

By then I couldn't think of anything but sex. Even Coach Cadze himself was a turn-on when later in the day, I passed him in the halls. Not a bad-looking guy, really. Square jaw. Shaved head. About six feet, maybe 225 pounds. I strained not to look, but the sight of the clearly defined bulge in those unusually tight sweatpants gave me a knot in my throat and a warmth in my guts. I knew he wore a jockstrap--all coaches do, don't they?--so a bulge that big, contained inside a mesh pouch, meant he had to have a cock like a firehose!

Damn, I'm horny. I tried to stop thinking about Cadze and steeled myself for the last class of the day--then I could go home, microwave a pizza, and beat the meat to a couple of porn videos. Maybe I will drive back to L.A. I've got to get laid!

But I had one more trial: the last class of the day was the one with Prandon in it. I was showing a documentary movie in my last class, and I had to get the projector. I went to fetch it from the storage room, which was down a dim hallway at the far end of the school.

As I came around the corner, I spotted Prandon himself. He stood against the wall, his zipper pulled down and his cock out--and Jim Barkett, the quarterback, knelt in front of him sucking it! Freckled, red-headed, All-American Barkett blowing dark, hoodlum Prandon was like the Good Guys surrendering to the Dark Side.

I was right! Prandon was hung! The big thing spread Barkett's jaws wide, and it was so long only a part of it sank into his mouth. Tom bobbed his head back and forth on it, jacking it with one hand and stroking his own cock with the other.

They didn't notice me at first, and by the time they did, I had been staring, entranced by the sight, for too long. I caught them, but they'd certainly caught me. Prandon looked at me with a smile. "Watch Barkett swallow my cum, Canfield, and then we'll go to class."

Outrageous! He expected me to permit such an act on school grounds. And he didn't call me "Mister Canfield."

But I stood there watching. Jim Barkett never stopped sucking. Tom Prandon never stopped smiling. "Yeahhh, here it comes!" Barkett started gulping, and dribbles of white slime leaked from the sides of his mouth. Prandon's orgasm must've driven Barkett into his own--his cock spurted white pleasure out onto the floor.

Fuck, I was horny! I had a terrible craving to kneel down there and suck up some of that hot jizz, myself! But I forced myself not to. It was enough that I was standing there without stopping them.

When Prandon finally pulled back his cock, damn, it was magnificent! A broad, flaring head like a giant mushroom, purple with satisfaction. And Prandon's foreskin slid back over it like Batman's cape swirling around him. I knew it! He's uncut! Damn, I wanted to suck that thing! I licked my lips. Automatically. And he saw me. And smiled. Shit.

"I, uh, have to get the projector."

Barkett stood up, tucked his cock back into his pants and hurried away. Prandon, though, stood there. "I'll give you a hand."

"That's okay, I can handle it."

I unlocked the storage room and walked in. Prandon followed me.

"Damned hot in here," he muttered. I heard the sound of a zipper behind me, and I turned to look. Fuck! Prandon was facing away from me and had stripped off his pants and was in the process of pulling down his--Ohmigod!--tiny white briefs! As they hit the floor I could see the pouch in front was stretched and distended.

From the back, Prandon was masculine perfection! A muscular kid big for his age, his back view was more than I could take. His buttocks were two perfectly symmetrical globes of hard muscle. Big sinews in his back undulated as he pulled off the shirt. Shoulder muscles like iron straps. Legs like works of art--like on statues of Greek gods. And he had a bikini line--his body was healthy, outdoorsy tan, but his ass was stark white.

Then he turned around. And there it was, the cock that hypnotized me a couple of minutes earlier. Hard again. Young guys can really reload! I got a good look at his testicles. Fuck, bigger than mine, and he's just a kid!

He looked at me with that knowing smile. "C'mon, Canfield, the kids in the class won't be expecting you for 10 or 20 minutes. We've got time."

I was stunned.

His voice got a little edge to it. "Get over here, Canfield, and wet it down for me while you're pulling down your pants!"

I still stared like a dumb ox.

"Canfield, I'm going to fuck you. You know it, you know you want it, and I'm horned up for you now. Get over here and suck my cock!"

I don't know what was going through my head. The risk was tremendous. Prandon was not a minor, but I would certainly be fired, and there would probably be some legal problems. But I was so fucking horny I couldn't think straight. I dropped to my knees.

Fuck, what an experience! Magnificent cock! Like a stallion! Cockhead so broad I only barely got it into my mouth. I licked rapidly just under it, at his pleasure-spot. I'm a good cocksucker. I know what to do. It tasted of sweat. And cum. Familiar flavors. It had been so long, so fucking long!

I reached under to cup his balls while the other hand undid my pants. When I finally shoved them down off my ass, he backed away. "Okay, Canfield, stand up, we have to make this a quickie."

I stood up, and he shucked my pants and underwear down to my ankles, and I stepped out of them. He stood between my legs, spread my cheeks, and swiped my ass with something slimy! Then he dropped a small tube on the floor. K-Y. Damn, this kid packs his own lube? What a stud!

Then he surprised me. He reached down and grabbed one of my ankles and lifted my foot off the floor. That put him even more in control--I was off-balance. I had to reach back and hold onto his shoulders!

Then his cockhead found my eager hole--Oh, god, it's been so long, so fucking long! As he pushed it in, the pain took my breath away. God, he was big! He got me panting, breathing hard to absorb the pain. It hurt, but I was so hot I wanted it rammed in all the way.

And he sank it in to the balls. The huge stretch of my asshole around his giant girth set my ass on fire, but I was so hot for him, I didn't care if he tore me open.

My cock was iron-hard--this will be a motherfucker of an orgasm! The kid was a great fucker! When he started his lunges, he hit my prostate with every stroke, and the leg I was standing on grew weak. I held onto his shoulders more tightly-- and I tightened my asshole around his cock to give him more pleasure. When he grunted, I felt a glow of pride.

I kissed the side of his face, licking off the sweat, gasping encouragement to him: "Yeah--big fucker--ungh!--big cock--deep--inside--angh, god, yeah!--fuck me--harder!--deeper!"

He let out a deep, low groan, and I knew he'd made it. I love the warm, spreading fullness of a man ejaculating in me. Breeding me. Filling me with his swimmers. I clenched my ass-ring around him to increase his pleasure, and he grunted at each clench, which made me glow with pride, so proud and turned on, in fact, that I cummed, too. Without touching myself. Shot big spurts of teacher-jizz across the room to land in white globs on the floor.

When he finally stopped--and I felt a wet trickle down my leg--he released the leg, pulled out his cock, and I unwrapped my arm from his shoulders. "Yer a good fuck, Canfield. I think I'm gonna take ya regular from now on."

I smiled, feeling rather shy. "I'd like that."

I clenched my ass tight to hold in his sperm--to keep it out of my underwear until I could make it to the men's room.

He stepped back, moved over to the pile of his clothes, and started getting dressed. I stepped into my pants, pulled everything up, grabbed the projector on its rolling stand, and hurried out the door. "Lock the door behind you," I called back.

Oh, man, did I feel good! Felt like singing. I checked my watch. My teenaged lover did me in only 10 minutes. Peppery balls at that age. God, I felt good! My ass was sore, but it was good sore. Like sore muscles after winning the game.

Struggling to keep my mind on what I was doing, I set up the projector and started it. "A Metro-News History of World War II" would hold their attention--plenty of diving Stukas, soldiers firing artillery pieces, and proud marches through Paris. Then they were supposed to write a theme on warfare over the weekend. I slipped out and hurried down to the faculty men's room. When I got there, damn, Prandon really packed a load. It was like a diarrhea of sperm in the toilet.

I checked my shorts--wet in the crotch. I wiped them out as best I could and pulled up my pants. Check my butt in the mirror. Nothing wet or white showing through. Whew!

Back in class, I watched the end of the movie, shut off the projector, and rewound the film as the students filed out of the room. Prandon stayed behind.

When we were alone: "You got a nice, tight ass, Canfield. I'm horned up again for you. You interested?"

"Maybe. When?"

"How 'bout right now?" He pulled open his pants, and there it was again. That magnificent cock.

"N-no, I--I can't--not--not here!"

"It's late. Friday. Everybody's gone, even the teachers."

It was a terrible risk, and I tried to resist, but all I could think of was that big, hard cock. I couldn't help myself. I dropped to my knees and started sucking again. Fuck, that cock owned me. All I wanted to do was service it--any way I could.

"Get naked, Canfield. I like my bitches bare-skinned. Still sucking him, I pulled off my tie, pulled open my shirt, then fought to shuck down my pants.

He pushed me onto my back, and I raised my legs for him as he stood over me, but he surprised me again. He reached down, grabbed my ankles, then lifted up my legs until my whole body was off the floor, upside-down, feet straight up in the air, balanced on my neck and shoulders! I spread my arms out wide for balance.

He was in control. The masterful symbol of his masculinity, that giant cock, stretched me wide open again and claimed me as his once more as it sank in--downward--balls deep. I gasped and panted as his big balls pressed against my ass. Oh, I loved his size. Even the pain was a turn-on.

Precum oozed from my own cockhead in a stream up my belly. I was on a high--a fuck high--and I released all control. "Oh, yeah, fuck me," I begged. The big teenager started moving, and even though I was uncomfortable, all my weight on my neck and shoulders, the kid was hitting places inside me I didn't know I had, and he soon got me moaning low and mindless.

To get a better grip on me, he moved one hand from my ankle to my thigh, and limp and helpless, that leg sagged over at the knee. I was splayed out for him like a complete slut, one leg straight up, the other flopped over. I loved being his slut. Over and over he hit my prostate and my toes curled in ecstasy.

I also loved the complete don't-give-a-shit disdain he had for me. Standing up to fuck me, lifting me up like a side of beef, no regard whatsoever of my pleasure--the bliss I got from his fucking was pure coincidence as far as he was concerned. And being treated like a slut was a giant turn-on for me. I closed my eyes and squeezed my hole tighter for him because I knew I was supposed to. I was his hole.

He quickened his fuck-pace, but I couldn't do anything to express my lust for him--I couldn't lock my legs behind his hips, I couldn't kiss him, all I could do was hang there, upended, vertical, listening to the young, rutting bull as he snorted and groaned, ravishing my worshipful asshole.

He moved to short, jerking strokes, and I figured he was about to cum. Just at that moment, I heard a nightmare sound--the door opening!

I looked up, and Coach Cadze walked into the room! "Well, well, I never figured this of you, Canfield." My whole life passed before my eyes.

But Prandon growled, "Yer next, Coach, strip down fer me." Before my astounded eyes, Cadze began to strip off his sweatsuit!

But Prandon took my attention again, suddenly raising himself up even higher and pummeling me, power-fucking my ass, driving me crazy as he pulled his cockhead almost totally out then sinking balls deep in me again. Finally he grunted back, "Unnngh, cummin'!"

When I heard that, I was a goner. Something like eight intense blasts of cum shot out of my cock, splatting all over my chin and face as I went into a motherfucker of an orgasm, writhing under him, my asshole clenching and convulsing around his mighty cock. The man had fucked me again into an orgasm. It was a weird feeling, really. Submitting myself to a kid 10 years younger--okay, at 18 he was a man--but I still couldn't think of him as anything but a kid, and getting my ass reamed by a kid! The eroticism, the fucking wrongness of it was a gigantic turn-on.

As I wriggled like a landed fish, Prandon dumped his load inside me. I know they say you can't feel it, but I swear each squirt was a boiling surge, a hot, full feeling inside me. I had another load of the big kid's swimmers in me.

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