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After we were dressed, I looked at Todd -- Mr. Adams -- trying to gage his reaction. He was still quiet and seemed to be avoiding my eyes. I could not tell from his face -- passive as it had been in my youth -- what emotions flared inside of him. As a teacher, his passions had been the great literature and his emotions would flow and glow from his face as he read certain poems, chapters, passages; he lived for the literature and it showed.
Finally, I could take no more of the silence. I reached for him, touching his shoulder. I was about to give words of encouragement and approval for our actions, when a single tear slid from his eyes. I pulled him close and held him as sobs wracked his body.
"I ... I ... we," he stammered, trying to put words to the war of feelings inside. "I've wanted this for so long, but now that I've done it -- done what we did -- I can't help but feel it was wrong. That I've broken some kind of trust that should not be breached."
I could feel the conflict within him; comforting words seemed to elude me. He clung to me and I held him tight. Finally, I said "Todd. This is something we've both wanted for so long. I wanted you when I was a kid. And you wanted me. And now we've found each other -- as adults -- and we've been able to find a moment of clarity from the jumbled passions we've had."
He stepped back from me; his eyes bright and clear, his cheeks traced with tears. "But, what if I want more?" he asked simply.
I was taken aback for a moment. Here was a man that I'd desired and yearned for, so many years ago, for so long, and he was wanting more than just our quick slip into primal sexual urges. Here was a man I knew the so much about and yet so little; here was a man I'd wanted for 20 years, admitting that he'd wanted me -- he still wants me -- and I'm finding that I want him.
"Let's talk about that over dinner, wine, and after we've examined our bodies in the softer light of candles, in a warm, soft bed. Let's go." I held his hand and headed towards the door.
Hours later, we were in my home, in my bed, Scott just down the hall. His teacher and his parent were having another conference -- a joining of our bodies -- a joining of our passions -- as we had wanted for so long. We had eaten and had probably consumed too much wine. Our passions were reignited and we were following those desires. Just after getting home, we'd gone to my bed, stripped naked and allowed our bodies to touch again.
We climbed into the bed and began to suck on each other's cocks. I slowly ground my pelvis against his face as his cock slipped in and out of my lips. Silent moans and groans slipped from his mouth into my cock, driving my desire and fuelling the flame. He admitted that he wanted to feel my cock in his ass, filling him with my lust. I obliged.
I rolled onto my back as he squatted above me, his own cock jutting hard, throbbing with desire; he slowly descended down, taking all of my cock inside of him. Pre-cum oozed from his cock and dribbled on my abs; I used my fingers to capture the golden fluid and brought it to my lips. It tasted as sweet -- if not sweeter -- than it had just hours before in his classroom.
He slid up and down the length of my cock, his eyes closed and a smile on his face. A look of even more pleasure would cross his face each time he slipped to the bottom of my cock, taking it all deep inside. I was wracked with my own pleasure, snugly encased in him. I leaned up to kiss him, to hold him as we rocked together. We rolled over, and my cock was able to go deeper into him, filling his ass completely, my balls touching his body. His cock throbbed and twitched with lust and fire.
As he lay on his back, his ankles on my shoulders, his ass warmly consuming every inch of my cock, I could see that I was now the teacher, he was my student and I was teaching him how to live his dreams. We rocked together, slowly and lovingly fucking our past into our present.
As he stroked his cock and began to cum, another load of white juice on his abs, my own climax released, filling him with my cum; our futures were now melded into our past and present as we drifted in our desires and our satisfaction.
Tomorrow had come and would be here forever.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 5 years agoI found out a few years ago that I enjoyed BUGGERING the Females I Fucked, but also that, few of them were willing, and very few enjoyed it. One Mature Village Bike that I was using told me her husband was a raving POOF and suggested a threesome. I had her twice and he Blew me once and gave me his arsehole (he called it his "PUSSY") once. He was a superior fuck! A couple of days later he called me and asked if I was interested in fucking him and a friend, and we arranged to meet at the friends place that night. The friend turned out to be a cross dresser and nervously asked if that was OK? I picked him up put him on his bed and, pulling the string of his knickers to one cheek Sissy-rolled him onto my cock, sliding easily into his well reamed pussy. I had both of them twice that night, and during recovery time I like to talk to whatever sluts I'm banging, so I began by asking the classic "How did you start having sex with Men, and when were you first fucked"? They had both gone to the same small English boarding school (BS) and were civil sevants. From them and others they mentioned and I screwed, first locally, then by the web, I found that most of the guys from boarding schools became civil servants, and the following is an outline of their "PROGRESS"
They typicaly went to BS between 9 and 11 years old. Older boys would Mentor and generally "look after" younger ones in a hierachy up to Prefect, with Masters over them. None of they felt they were bullied or co-earsed into gay sex, but it was a general Peer Presure that most boys followed. Playing with their own cocks (they called them Willies), and others willies was soon learned, if not already a habit. After a couple of years, most were "mouthing willies" and being taught to Suck. Prefects (sharing in two's) had "Fags" who did small jobs (cleaning shoes and sports gear, making a warm drink etc) for them, and "Faggot" MAY have been born out of this, because most of the fags were being regularly shagged by then. Masters were also screwing them.
About 70% of the ex BS boys, now men, I contacted, were interested in some sex, after I mentioned some names known to them that I had already used, backed up by pics of my cock, by itself and in male pussies. About half of them were "happily Married" and hadn't had a cock in them for years, but were almost desperate to be active again. I had, and stil have, a FUCKING GOOD TIME!!!
Anonymousabout 12 years agoI love student and teacher erotic stories. With all of the descriptions, I was able to fully experience this and the pleasure was unimaginable. I really felt as if I was the student (well, grown up). This really got me going.
OtherSideofDalmost 15 years agoStraight female addicted to gay stories #: }
----LOVE this one! The explanation of his teenage self’s anguish and lust for his teacher is very believable. Enjoyed every aspect of this story!
Texan065almost 15 years agoThat was very nice. Thank you very much. I liked it even better than my stories.
