Recognised off x-tube [m/m]

[LawrenceJ]

Parents’ evening is never my favourite date in my diary, but I was dreading this one especially. The headmistress had told me in my annual appraisal that, in no uncertain terms, they had made a mistake in hiring me based on one spectacularly misleading interview and the fact I look pretty good in a suit. Control, she said, was my problem, or lack of it. If I couldn’t keep my kids in line, they were hardly likely to sit down and get the grades they needed.

‘This isn’t some rowdy state school where the children rule the roost and people are happy if they scrape a C,’ she told me, with the heavy inference that that was the sort of place I belonged. ‘With the amounts parents pay for St Michael’s, they expect the crème de la crème.’

I had nodded and bowed and scraped. It was true that I didn’t know how to keep the stronger personalities in order, especially those in the sixth form. They were only about six years younger than I was: the bolder girls were a right laugh, and I sometimes egged them on rather than turn to the less pleasurable matters of the maths syllabus. I wanted to go and smoke with them behind the bike sheds, and find out all the details of their heady teenage lives.

That sort of mentality was no good for anybody.

‘Your subject area is the only weak point of my whole establishment,’ the head had told me. ‘Look at Cassie Gardner. She ought to be coasting toward triple A’s. You can’t tell her mother and father she’s failing because of bad behaviour. They’ll hit the roof.’

‘She is extremely disruptive…’

‘Only because of a lack of firmness from you,’ she replied. ‘I hope you’re not distracted by her looks, Mr Hammond.’

I blushed. ‘Absolutely not,’ I said, unable to look her in the eye. She certainly hadn’t got to know me at all during my three terms at St Michael’s.

‘You’ll just have to tell them she’s started seeing a boy,’ said the Head casually, flicking through her papers. ‘It’s the classic reason for distraction in the classroom. They won’t challenge her on it, and even if they do, she’ll do anything to get off the subject.’

‘Right,’ I had said. ‘What about the others?’

‘Good heavens.’ She fixed with her a frozen blue stare. ‘Do I have to do all your work for you? Get creative, Mr Hammond. And I expect to see a change in your attitude from now on, or you might find yourself up the job market without a job reference.’

I didn’t doubt she would do it. She’d expelled a boy the previous term for whistling in the corridor. She knew how to wield power. I only wished I did.

I had my interview suit dry cleaned and pressed to within an inch of its life, and I went to a Soho barber’s to make sure I looked sharp as a set-square for the big night. I knew I had to impress. I had to look like I could crack the whip where appropriate, and even where it wasn’t appropriate: I was a whip in human form, a Newly Qualified Teacher maybe, but one with the confident prowess of a veteran cage fighter.

I was doing alright until Cassie’s parents came across to my table. I’d never met them before but it was unmistakably them: Cassie was, as the Head had hinted, an attractive young woman, and Mr and Mrs Gardner displayed all the beauty and grace they had distilled into their eighteen-year-old daughter. Mrs Gardner had dancing eyes and amazing cheekbones. Mr Gardner had a square jaw, emphasised by short hair and a fine beard. His well-fitting suit suggested he had a sportsman’s physique too. Now I knew where Cassie’s champion hockey talents were inherited from.

Mr Gardner grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. ‘Evening,’ he said familiarly and, to my relief, smiling warmly. ‘How are you doing?’

Some of my military brusqueness melted. ‘Great, thanks,’ I said.

Mrs Gardner, when I forced my head to look at her, appeared more serious. ‘Good to meet you,’ she said, taking a seat. ‘Cassie always speaks very highly of you. Unfortunately, it seems –’

‘Sorry,’ said Mr Gardner, cutting across his wife. ‘Surely we’ve met before?’

I was about to say, ‘Yes,’ because that’s the way I am. I’m eager to please, especially if it means smoothing over some awkward conversation, particularly if the other option is suggesting that someone might be wrong. If it’s a parent, I really don’t want them to think they’ve made a mistake, and if they’re hot, even if I stand less chance with them than an ice cube stands of getting intimate with a pan of boiling water, I’ll happily nod and smile and even pretend to vote Conservative.

But I had been spending all evening practising my authoritative manner in a bid to impress everybody and show the Headmistress wrong. In addition to which, I felt the need to show some backbone to Cassie’s mother, after that ‘Unfortunately’ she was about to speak of.

I frowned, considered and shook my head. ‘No, I’m afraid that’s unlikely. I’ve only been working at St Michael’s since September.’

‘What about before that?’

‘I graduated the previous summer,’ I said. ‘Brighthelmstone University, in Sussex.’

Mr Gardner didn’t look convinced, but he knew when to drop a subject. Unfortunately, his wife had seized on my words to use in her own ‘Unfortunately’ line. ‘So you’re a recent graduate.’

‘Well, it feels ages ago now.’

‘Do you have prior teaching experience?’ she asked.

‘Absolutely,’ I said. ‘Teaching experience is built into our graduation programme.’

‘I thought you sounded rather young,’ she said, ‘from the way Cassie talks about you. And then there’s the matter of her A-Level mock exam grades.’

‘Ah yes,’ I said, trying to instil some gravitas in my tone, ‘that’s what I was hoping to talk to you about.’

‘They’re hardly shining,’ said Mrs Gardner. ‘We were discussing them on our way in tonight.’

She looked across at her husband, obviously cueing him into some particular line of attack they’d prepared between them earlier. Or at the very least, something to back her up. Mr Gardner didn’t seem to be entirely present. He was staring at me, lips slightly parted in his gorgeous beard, dabs of colour in his cheeks. He had the look of someone who’s just been reminded of something outrageous they did when they were drunk the night before.

I wondered if perhaps we had met somewhere before, but my memory for faces is pretty solid, particularly when a man like him is involved.

Then with a jolt I realised what had happened.

 

[LawrenceJ]

Mrs Gardner seemed to resist the urge to physically nudge her husband. I heard her drawing breath to continue, but I just about beat her to it.

‘It’s sex,’ I said, a little louder than I meant to. A couple at the next table along, talking to Mr Stevens about geography resists, turned their heads in unison; so did Mr Stevens.

Mr Gardner flushed even deeper red. Mrs Gardner’s eyes widened.

‘I beg your pardon,’ she said.

My mouth was dry, my heart was racing, I didn’t quite know what I was saying until I heard the words come out of my mouth. ‘Cassie has discovered sex,’ the words said, to my surprise. ‘I don’t know in what terms this would sound best, but I feel I must be brutally honest with you. Cassie is the school bike. Everybody’s taken a ride on her.’

‘This is disgusting,’ said Mrs Gardner.

‘I know,’ I said, forcing myself to take a breath. ‘I know exactly what you mean. I’m a regular churchgoer, Mr and Mrs Gardner, and I don’t believe in anything before marriage. But teenagers are a lawless crowd. One can exert all one’s powers in the classroom. Outside, in the toilets, boys will be boys and girls will be girls.’

‘Darling,’ Mr Gardner said, turning to look at his wife. ‘I’m sure he’s right. You were the same at his age. I know I was.’

‘You still are,’ she said, with a look of disgust. She looked at me sympathetically. ‘You wouldn’t believe the things he asks me to do.’

I crossed my legs. ‘Other teachers won’t say this to parents,’ I said, ‘but that’s because they’re inured. They don’t see it any more. I’m fresh on the scene and I tell you this filth must be recognised for what it is.’

‘Quite right,’ said Mr Gardner. ‘Understand their psychology.’

‘But what can be done?’ asked Mrs Gardner. ‘Should we speak with her?’

‘If you wish her to become a teenage delinquent, yes,’ I said. ‘Better by far to let this run its course. As I say, Cassie has fucked pretty much every boy in her year, and a fair few of the girls from what I’ve heard. She hasn’t anywhere to go after this.’

‘Exactly,’ said Mr Gardner. ‘I see the same thing in the workplace. Let the fever burn itself out.’

‘But what about her A-Levels?’ asked Mrs Gardner. ‘If she’s going to become a barrister…’

‘Masturbation,’ I said, fixing Mr Gardner in my sights and watching him squirm. ‘I recommend it to everybody. It’s safe, it’s time efficient, and it calms you down better than a warm bath. Mention it vaguely in conversation, leave some literature lying about the house, perhaps.’

Mr Gardner swallowed, effortfully. ‘We’ll certainly consider it.’

Mrs Gardner stood up suddenly. ‘Thank you for being so explicit, Mr Hammond. We have to speak with the P.E. team now, I think.’

Mr Gardner reached across and shook my hand again. His palm was sweaty now. ‘Thanks. I don’t suppose you could direct me to the nearest toilet?’

‘This place is a bit of a warren,’ I said, getting to my feet and positioning a ring-binder folder discreetly over my crotch. ‘I’ll show you.’

‘That would be excellent,’ said Mr Gardner. ‘I’d appreciate it.’

I could see Mr and Mrs Evans waiting to speak with me. Neither of them were particularly attractive. I smiled and told them I would be ten minutes. ‘Go and get yourself an orange squash,’ I told them, in the firm tones of an army general.

The toilets on the ground floor are not very far away at all from the school hall, so I made certain to take Mr Gardner up the stairs to those on the third floor, where only the most intrepid visitor would wander. We passed a display of photographs from the 5th Years’ production of Heder Gabler, and an oaken board etched with names of house captains going back to the nineteenth century, as well as a painting of the Headmistress in oils and a view across the quad which particularly emphasised its elegant planting of chestnut trees.

We didn’t stop to pay any of these any heed. There was nobody on these levels to play to, and we only had ten minutes. My cock was uncomfortably hard in my jockey shorts.

As we entered the boys’ lavatories, and I checked that the coast really was well and truly clear, Mr Gardner hissed a whisper through his beard.

‘I am right then, am I? You are horsecock92?’

‘Of course I fucking well am,’ I said hotly. ‘But not here.’

‘No,’ he said, ‘Not anywhere for a while. What happened?’

‘What do you mean?’ I hissed back.

‘I’ve tried searching your username,’ he said, glancing toward the door. ‘You haven’t made any new videos for a couple of years. At least, nothing you’ve uploaded.’

‘I didn’t think it was a good idea,’ I said.

‘Why not?’

My eyes widened. ‘Why do you think?! I’m a fucking teacher now.’

‘But you were amazing,’ he said. ‘You were a star. People still talk about you on forums. I must have cum to your videos millions of times. You could have been professional.’

‘I am professional, now,’ I said. ‘Do you want to talk or…?’

He had to draw breath. ‘I want to see it,’ he said, looking me in the eye.

 

[LawrenceJ]

I reached for my suit trouser fly, but Mr Gardner put a hot, hairy hand on mine.

‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Can I?’

I raised my hands like I was being arrested, and he came in close, his eyes flicking back and forth from my trousers to my face. He unzipped me carefully, almost venerating the act, like he was a housebreaker opening a rich man’s wallet in the dead of night.

‘Fuck,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before. It’s so weird to be on this side of the operation.’

True to his word, he was awkward about getting my cock out, particularly with it being so rigid. He hooked his fingers inside my trousers, pulling my cotton underwear aside, then trying to get his hand in, his hot fingers grabbing for my hard meat. Obviously it was difficult to manoeuvre it up and out of the fly. I could hear him breathing deeply as he worked at it, and because I kept worrying we would be interrupted by his wife looking for her errant husband I lost my hard-on slightly, fortunately meaning he could suddenly bend it how he wanted to. In a second it was hanging out of my fly and he was standing there, staring at it in rapture, not sure what to do with his hands.

‘It’s just what I imagined it would be,’ he breathed.

‘It’s not even hard right now,’ I said, somewhat apologetically.

‘I know. That makes it even more impressive.’

‘That’s what you think.’

‘It does,’ he said. ‘Seeing it hanging there, soft like that and just – huge.’

His enthusiasm made it harden up, and I saw him lick his lips at the sight. I wondered if he’d ever sucked anything like this, ever sucked any dick at all, whether he’d even seen another man’s dick hard in front of him like this. I got the sense that he had kept it as a fantasy all this time.

‘Do you want to…’

‘Dance,’ he said.

‘How do you mean?’

‘You do a little dance in your videos,’ he said. ‘Makes it bob around, shows off the size of it, the rigidity. Go on.’

I swivelled my hips. ‘I usually did this when I was drunk,’ I said, though it wasn’t entirely true. In truth, I did it when I was feeling drunk on sex: turned on, and turned on by that warm, powerful, overawing and overawed sensation. When I wanted to celebrate my sex and the business of sex by showing off my body for an audience of appreciators, men like Mr Gardner I realised now. Commenters and sharers and patrons. I wondered if Gardner had contributed £10 or £20 at some point, while his wife was sitting in bed reading her copy of 50 Shades of Grey.

‘You look bigger than ever,’ he said. ‘It looks incredible with you wearing the suit. You have to make a video of this.’

‘Maybe later,’ I smiled shyly, fuelled with enthusiasm for the first time in ages. Maybe if I did have fans still, they deserved a bit of this. Maybe I could even another couple of patrons pinging their money through the air like in the good old days. Perhaps if I really did lose my job I would have to work this asset to make certain the rent got paid.

‘You need to get your balls out too,’ he said, stroking his beard nervously. ‘To show off your size properly.’

I obediently reached into my trousers and produced the bollocks. They sat, big and juicy, on the chilly little point of the suit fly.

Mr Gardner evidently approved. He squeezed his erection through his own suit trousers, and sucked in air through his pouting lips. ‘Oh yes, amazing.’ He smiled at me shyly, but there was something serious and intent about him now. ‘Get your fist around it.’

I started to wank myself slowly for him. From downstairs I could hear the distant hubbub of voices and chairs squeaking on the school hall’s polished wooden boards. One of those voices, perhaps one of those squeaky chairs, was Mr Gardner’s wife.

‘No,’ he said, ‘don’t wank it. Just grab it at the base. Show that big beautiful cock off.’

I did what he said. ‘How’s that?’

‘Gorgeous,’ he said. ‘My goodness, you really can’t get your hand around it, can you?’

‘Obviously,’ I said, reaching fruitlessly with my thumb to show how it refused to close the circle, the pressure making my dickhead flare fatter and harder than ever. I gasped at the sight.

‘I wasn’t sure if it was a camera trick,’ he said. ‘When I watched the videos, obviously I believed completely, but when I thought about it afterward I just thought, nobody’s cock is that thick.’

I remembered another move from my camera routine, and placed one fist on top of the other, demonstrating how much there was to encompass than I could ever achieve by myself.

‘Oh yeah,’ he said, squeezing himself through his trousers again. ‘You’re superhuman, mate. You’re wasted teaching maths.’

It wasn’t the first time I had heard these words lately, at least by inference, and I bridled slightly. ‘Oh really,’ I said, fixing him with a hard stare.

‘Really,’ he said, sliding fingers up and down the hard shape in his trousers now. ‘You shouldn’t be doing anything but fucking arse all day, mate. Or, erm, pussy, of course.’ He looked at me suddenly a little apprehensively. ‘I don’t know what you’re into. Don’t mean to judge.’

I shook my head in disbelief. ‘You’re blowing my mind,’ I said.

‘Have you got any pre-cum yet?’ he whispered. ‘Wanna see you taste it, you dirty fucking whore…’

I let go of my cock and stood, hands on my tips. ‘Fuck this,’ I said. ‘I’m not on camera now and you’re not behind a screen.’

His handsome face registered surprise. ‘Sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to –’

‘Don’t ‘mate’ me,’ I told him. ‘Despite what you’re going to tell your wife later, we haven’t met before and we’re not friends. Use my name.’

‘I’m sorry, horsecock92,’ he said bowing his head.

‘My proper name. While we’re on school premises,’ I said, ‘you use my proper name, okay?’

‘Yes, Mr Hammond.’

‘Now come over here,’ I said, ‘and suck on this big fat cock.’

 

[LawrenceJ]

He had to loosen his tie. ‘Yes, Mr Hammond!’ he whispered, and came and knelt on the school bathroom’s tiled floor. ‘I – um – I haven’t actually ever…’

‘I didn’t think so,’ I said. ‘Well, grab the shaft and lick the head. Taste it properly before you try and take it.’

His dry tongue made quiet, wet noises as it slid inside my foreskin and planed across the underside of my cockhead, then in steady little motions up and down the sides and over the top. I noticed his expression change as he got his first taste of pre-cum. After a while, he attempted to take the whole thing in his mouth but looked up at me uncertainly, beautiful green eyes with long eyelashes and heavy expressive eyebrows.

‘Did I tell you to stop?’

‘I wasn’t sure whether I…’

‘Use your initiative, man,’ I said. ‘You must have watched women blowing men online.’

‘Of course,’ he said.

‘Not to mention queers,’ I said, using the word with care, despite having given it no thought before.

‘A few,’ he said, blushing again.

‘Well then,’ I said, ‘decide who you are and see what you can remember. Except you don’t have to tell me how big it is like they do in porn films. Because I know.’

‘Yes, Mr Hammond,’ he said, and took an experimental length of cock, like a teenager trying their first long drag on a cigarette. It made him splutter, but he returned to business almost immediately, slower and more intently.

I heard a footstep out in the hallway. Had someone come looking for us? I wasn’t even sure how long we’d been away now. I looked down at Gardner but he didn’t seem to have registered anything. His mouth felt so good on my cock, long slow waves of cool pleasure reaching right the way up to where his fist was making a good effort and holding onto me above my balls.

Should I interrupt him and get us into a cubicle? I felt so supercharged with pleasure and power, not to mention drunk on the sex feeling, that something in me couldn’t quite bring myself to stop him in his work.

The footsteps passed the door and died away.

I let out a long sigh.

‘Is that good, Mr Hammond?’ he said, continuing to wank me. Spit and precum pooled in the hairs of his moustache.

‘Very good for a first effort, Mr Gardner,’ I said.

‘It feels amazing in my throat,’ he said, staring at it, hypnotised. ‘It’s like every wrong thing you weren’t supposed to swallow because it was bad for you.’

‘Nothing bad about this,’ I told him, grabbing the back of his head and stuffing his face full of my hard meat. I felt his well-oiled beard tickle my heavy ball-sack. He spluttered and choked as I pressed him to me, and when I released him and pulled out, he gasped for breath, staring at his drool hanging in coils off the huge thick slab of flesh hanging from my suit-fly. Then he smeared the drool up my shaft and over my balls, took a deep breath as if about to dive underwater, and took the whole thing all over again. He choked again, slid it back out of his mouth, gasped for breath again, and then continued to wank the huge heft of it with both hands, making me moan gutturally at the back of my throat.

‘It’s just – enormous,’ he said.

‘I told you,’ I said, ‘you don’t have to say things like that.’

‘It would feel weird not to say it,’ he said. ‘You should see mine in comparison.’

I took the opportunity of a break in our proceedings to move us into the cubicle before I made him drop his trousers and get his dick out. It wasn’t a bad size by any means, but it couldn’t help looking small next to mine. I’m not called horsecock92 for nothing.

His dick was hard and purple and already drenched in his own precum. It smelled amazing, enhanced by the fragrance of his beard oil. I squeezed the two together and ran both hands over them as one meat sandwich. They peeled apart slowly with a sucking noise.

Wanking his dick, Mr Gardner surprised me by suddenly turning his back. ‘I want to feel that inside me,’ he said.

For the first time in the last five minutes, my iron will weakened. ‘I can’t,’ I said.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, ‘I’m perfectly healthy. Fuck me, sir.’

‘It’s not that,’ I said. ‘I just don’t think we have time.’

‘I’m about ready to cum,’ he said, ‘It looks like you are too. We’ll tell everybody you were explaining about the curriculum. Do you have something like a Mac suite or something you can tell me you were showing me?’

‘But I can’t fuck a virgin arse, not with this,’ I told him, smacking my big hard dick for emphasis. ‘You need to be worked on, you need me to lick you out for a while. Even then, if you’ve never been fucked –’

‘Yeah,’ he said, bending over, ‘like I said, don’t worry. Do it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean we’ve got a lot of dildos at home,’ he said. ‘Sometimes I persuade my wife to strap it on. Some of them are even about your size.’

I spat on my hand and my fingers disappeared up his cute, straight boy arse with no argument.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘But I’m going to have to make it quick. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

Mr Gardner bit down on the quilted toilet roll, and came with a barely suppressed growl of pleasure about five seconds after I got my full length inside his arse. He was obviously used to this sort of activity, but perhaps it was the suit, the smell of disinfectant in the bathroom, the knowledge that the entire school staff and most of his daughter’s friends’ families were just two floors beneath us. It could have been that his wife was never quite as into fucking his arse with a strap-on as I was: I mean, I’m told that happens in a marriage. Maybe he used to fancy one of his schoolmasters when he was a teenager. Maybe he fancied me.

He had already said how many times I’d made him cum in the privacy of his own house.

Of course, it could be that he just wasn’t ready for a dick my size. Few men are.

I didn’t take long about things. Clutching his beard with my left hand, his hard cum-spattered dick with my right, I rammed him deep and hard and smooth for just a few thrusts before pleasure welled right the way up to my brain and I followed his example, spunking my load up the inside of his Marks and Spencer’s Collezione shirt and down the hard lines of his muscled lower back.

‘Sorry I couldn’t hold out,’ he said, as we were tidying one another up afterward.

‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘You did great for a first try. Firstish anyway.’

‘And you restored my faith in you,’ he said. ‘The way Cassie talks about you, you sounded like a real pussy, but I know that’s not the case anymore.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, washing my hands and splashing my face with water. ‘We’d better get back.’

‘Oh,’ he said, pausing in the doorway, ‘just one thing.’

‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.’

‘Thanks, but it’s not that,’ he said. ‘When you said about first times…’

I tilted my head back and didn’t allow him a smile. ‘Well, you can always join the Parent-Teacher Association.’

‘Sounds good to me,’ he said, turning with a big smile toward the stairs. ‘And in the meantime, I’ll give you my email address – just in case you feel like getting the video camera out again.’

I kept the poker face all the way downstairs, trying to think hard about SATs tests, Ofsted and Pythagoras, and trying not to imagine the kind of movies the pair of us would surely be making in the coming term…

 

[Xyze97]

Fucking awesome

 

[nyc4hung]

Great story. You are a terrific writer. Would love to chat sometime.

 

[Dave K]

Great!!!

 

[LawrenceJ]

Thanks guys, really glad you enjoyed it! If it actually made anybody cum, let me know!

 

[william1]

Thanks guys, really glad you enjoyed it! If it actually made anybody cum, let me know!

Sure gave me a nice stiffie at my desk

 

[BeardedMuscle]

Well done, buddy. I'd like to hear more of Mr Gardener's cock-worship banter. That got me precumming.

 

[Huex]

MORE PLEASEEE