Boy Power House
folder
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
43
Views:
3,448
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Original - Misc › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
43
Views:
3,448
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction about oral & anal sex between men and young boys. The characters, locations & incidents are fictional. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 24
©2007 Herb Cat. Do not reproduce or distribute this story without the author's permission.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
Chapter 24
Date: Monday, November 5, 2001
Place: Jordan Academy, Patterson, NY
The Assistant Chancellor is sitting at his desk staring out his window at the football team practice. Now an administrator at this exclusive private school, Maxwell is well remunerated, but he misses being in the classroom. He remembers how wonderful it was to give a student a pat on the back, just to touch them. Now he has to settle for seeing them in the hall, on the field, but even that gets him aroused.
Usually when he is stimulated by all this eye candy, he can retire to his office to jerk. But last week, he ducked into the bathroom to get his rocks off. He realized he wasn't alone, so he slipped into a stall and tried to quietly masturbate. As he sat, he heard noises from the stall at the end. Obviously two people were going at it, thinking they were alone. Maxwell decided to forego his own pleasure and as an administrator do a little discrete investigation. He slipped out quietly and stood by a bulletin board down the hall pretending to read the notices. He speculated about which boys might be in there. Eventually Carl, a junior came out. Ah, lovely Carl, Maxwell thought. Captain of the LaCrosse team. Was he the cocksucker or the suckee? Did he have another jock in there? Some poor freshman? Let's wait and see who else emerges. But a couple minutes later, it was not another student who comes out. It was Kennedy, the head of the Math department. He strolled up to Maxwell and pointed to one of the notices about an upcoming Math competition. "You should come watch our boys. I know we're going to tromp St. Agnes." Hmm. Maxwell would never have picked Kennedy as a predator. He decided he wanted to learn more.
Today, he calls Carl into his office. Maxwell sits on top of his desk trying in vain to look kid-friendly. "Listen, I know what you were doing last week in the bathroom with a teacher."
"Oh, please, Dr. Maxwell, don't fire Mr. Wilson. It wasn't his fault. I led him on. I know I'm sick. But I really wanted to find out what a man's dick tasted like. You're not going to tell my folks are you?" Maxwell sits dumbfounded. First Kennedy, now Wilson too? "Look, Dr. Maxwell. I always liked you. You're a neat guy. I see you in the stands at LaCrosse meets. Actually, I think I always had a crush on you." Shit, now the kid is playing me. Damn he's good. "I think you sort of like me also." Carl points to Maxwell's bulging pants. "I could help you take care of that if you want. And, uh, if you promise not to fire Wilson or tell my parents." The promise is made. But then Maxwell hustles the boy out of his office before he does something he might regret.
That something is what he plays over and over in his head for the next hour. The door is locked. The pants are unzipped. And the bulge is taken care of by a phantom Carl. Maxwell closes his eyes and reaches his hands out to touch the phantom's bobbing head, to run his fingers through its curly hair, to massage those invisible athletic shoulders. "Yes," he whispers to his empty office, "you are such a fine boy." Maxwell wipes up the mess he made and picks up yesterday's Times, anything to get his mind off Carl. As he glances at the education section of the help wanteds in the Times, his eye catches an interesting offer. A request for a private tutor at a home not far from Jordan Academy. Gee, he thinks to himself, here's a chance to be a real teacher again. To have close personal contact with a student. Maxwell answers the ad and is told to come by for an interview.
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.
.oOo.
Chapter 24
Date: Monday, November 5, 2001
Place: Jordan Academy, Patterson, NY
The Assistant Chancellor is sitting at his desk staring out his window at the football team practice. Now an administrator at this exclusive private school, Maxwell is well remunerated, but he misses being in the classroom. He remembers how wonderful it was to give a student a pat on the back, just to touch them. Now he has to settle for seeing them in the hall, on the field, but even that gets him aroused.
Usually when he is stimulated by all this eye candy, he can retire to his office to jerk. But last week, he ducked into the bathroom to get his rocks off. He realized he wasn't alone, so he slipped into a stall and tried to quietly masturbate. As he sat, he heard noises from the stall at the end. Obviously two people were going at it, thinking they were alone. Maxwell decided to forego his own pleasure and as an administrator do a little discrete investigation. He slipped out quietly and stood by a bulletin board down the hall pretending to read the notices. He speculated about which boys might be in there. Eventually Carl, a junior came out. Ah, lovely Carl, Maxwell thought. Captain of the LaCrosse team. Was he the cocksucker or the suckee? Did he have another jock in there? Some poor freshman? Let's wait and see who else emerges. But a couple minutes later, it was not another student who comes out. It was Kennedy, the head of the Math department. He strolled up to Maxwell and pointed to one of the notices about an upcoming Math competition. "You should come watch our boys. I know we're going to tromp St. Agnes." Hmm. Maxwell would never have picked Kennedy as a predator. He decided he wanted to learn more.
Today, he calls Carl into his office. Maxwell sits on top of his desk trying in vain to look kid-friendly. "Listen, I know what you were doing last week in the bathroom with a teacher."
"Oh, please, Dr. Maxwell, don't fire Mr. Wilson. It wasn't his fault. I led him on. I know I'm sick. But I really wanted to find out what a man's dick tasted like. You're not going to tell my folks are you?" Maxwell sits dumbfounded. First Kennedy, now Wilson too? "Look, Dr. Maxwell. I always liked you. You're a neat guy. I see you in the stands at LaCrosse meets. Actually, I think I always had a crush on you." Shit, now the kid is playing me. Damn he's good. "I think you sort of like me also." Carl points to Maxwell's bulging pants. "I could help you take care of that if you want. And, uh, if you promise not to fire Wilson or tell my parents." The promise is made. But then Maxwell hustles the boy out of his office before he does something he might regret.
That something is what he plays over and over in his head for the next hour. The door is locked. The pants are unzipped. And the bulge is taken care of by a phantom Carl. Maxwell closes his eyes and reaches his hands out to touch the phantom's bobbing head, to run his fingers through its curly hair, to massage those invisible athletic shoulders. "Yes," he whispers to his empty office, "you are such a fine boy." Maxwell wipes up the mess he made and picks up yesterday's Times, anything to get his mind off Carl. As he glances at the education section of the help wanteds in the Times, his eye catches an interesting offer. A request for a private tutor at a home not far from Jordan Academy. Gee, he thinks to himself, here's a chance to be a real teacher again. To have close personal contact with a student. Maxwell answers the ad and is told to come by for an interview.
.oOo.
As an author, I welcome feedback from readers. Please send any comments about this story, positive or negative, to Herb_Cat@mailcity.com. Thank you.