My Science Teacher, Mr. Duke (Gay SPH)
“You should leave, Timmy” Mr. Duke said as I stood before him, my knees shaking so badly and my head spinning so much that it was a wonder that I was able to remain standing.
I couldn’t leave, and it wasn’t because my Science teacher had a hold of my belt, because I wanted to be there more than anything. After all, this is what I had been hoping for when Mr. Duke had invited me to his place.
All through my senior year I had fantasized about this tall, grey haired man as he stood at the head of the class, wondering about what was beneath those baggy trousers, and on those occasions when he would come around and check our work, I just about died.
Mr. Duke always wore short sleeved white shirts, and when he would be standing next to me my dick would get hard looking at his arms. They weren’t muscular so much as wiry, but what really turned me on was the silver hair that covered them, the grey billowing like wheat in a field.
Mr. Duke was gay, or at least that was what the rumors said, but nobody had any proof of it. I had always hoped the rumors were true, and when he spent a lot of time working with me I had hoped it was because I thought I was cute and not because I wasn’t that great in science.
At 18 I was a bit of a butterball, not fat but a little chubby, and while over the next year I would become a more impressive physical specimen in most ways by shedding pounds and working out, in Mr. Duke’s kitchen that evening I was anything but.
The evening had progressed from him wishing me well and encouraging me to continue in some field of science, to the point where I was standing before him while he unbuckled my belt.
“I shouldn’t” Mr. Duke was saying, but he didn’t stop and I didn’t stop him, although I was starting to become nervous as my jeans dropped to the kitchen floor.
Mr. Duke was staring straight ahead, at my white fruit of the looms which I were hoping were still clean, and as he did I strained to get a little life down there, so at least some kind of bulge would appear.
As it often did when I was nervous, not only did my little dick not respond, it felt like it was retreating into my intestines, and not even feeling Mr. Duke’s hand massaging it from outside of the cotton was helping.
“Are you scared, Timmy?” Mr. Duke asked me, as if my quivering legs weren’t a giveaway, and while I couldn’t speak I nodded.
“Me too, Timmy,” Mr. Duke said as he took his horn-rimmed glasses off and set them on the kitchen table before returning to me. “It’s okay to be scared, but I won’t hurt you. You know that, right?”
I nodded as Mr. Duke’s hand slid a little lower, probably trying to find my balls, which had also retracted from nerves. I tried to concentrate on his arms, those profusely hairy arms that had always excited me, and tried to relax.
Mr. Duke liked me. That was why I was there, and while he may not have been thrilled at what his hand was feeling, at least he hadn’t laughed or sent me on my way, so I felt some of the tension begin to melt away.
Through squinting eyelids I looked down as Mr. Duke gently lifted the elastic on my briefs away from my belly and lowered them down past the sad nest of golden hair and down past my dick, which looked like a mushroom, and not a very healthy one at that.
Mr. Duke let out a little sigh before leaning forward and taking me into his mouth, sucking on my dick as he slid my underwear down my legs. I could feel his chin against my taut nut sac as he rolled my penis around his tongue, the warm wet mouth unlike any hand it had been in before.
My hands went down to Mr. Duke’s arms, which were on my hips, and as I slid my fingers through the long downy hair, I felt my cock start to get hard. Now Mr. Duke was able to move his lips up and down the shaft, and in no time he was sucking on my erection, which had blossomed to the slender not quite 5″ I had been “blessed” with.
Mr. Duke didn’t seem to care, and as his mouth kept going from the tip of the gumdrop glans right on down to the base, my entire body started tingling. I didn’t even have time to warn Mr. Duke before I started ejaculating into his mouth, a series of jets that had my science teacher gasping as he struggled to swallow it all.
By then I was crouched over, hugging Mr. Duke’s head in as much as an effort to remain upright as it was a sign of affection, and Mr. Duke still had my limp wiener in his mouth as I straightened up.
“I pray you aren’t mad at me, Timmy.”
“Mad?” I asked incredulously as I looked down at Mr. Duke, because of everything I was at that moment, mad was not among them. “Gee no.”
“Have you ever been with a man before?”
“Sort of,” I said, because I had experienced a couple of encounters with guys my age, but the only time I had been with a man, after he had given me a ride he had thrown me out of his car after taking my pants part way down.
“Would you like to go to bed me with me?” he asked, and I nodded, pulling up my pants so that I could follow him down the hall.
I might have looked goofy, waddling into Mr. Duke’s bedroom holding my jeans up with my hands, but my science teacher wasn’t laughing, just smiling as he stood in the doorway and ushered me inside.
The room was minimally decorated, but the bed was massive. It looked like a water-bed, which was something that was a current craze, and there were dim lights at the headboard which did more illumination than I was comfortable with, but since Mr. Duke had seemed to like what he had seen so far I let him lift my t-shirt off my head as my jeans fell to the floor.
“You’re such a sweet looking young man,” Mr Duke said as he ran his hands over my fleshy and smooth chest.
Sweat was trickling down my sides, and I saw that the shirt Mr. Duke was wearing had large damp patches under his arms too. He was still wearing his tie, so I reached up and started to fiddle with it.
“I am rather overdressed, aren’t I?” Mr. Duke said, briskly pulling on his tie and yanking it off, and when he undid the top button of his shirt I let out a gasp.
“Can I?” I asked timidly before reaching for the next button on his shirt, and after Mr. Duke nodded my shaky fingers worked on the rest of the buttons.
I don’t know whether this man, who was probably close to 60 years old, ever thought of himself as sexy, but to me he sure was, even though his chest was what you might call scrawny. The moment that top button came open and exposed the silver and grey hair that grew up to his collarbone, I was in love.
Never having seen Mr. Duke in anything but a buttoned up shirt, up until then I had only fantasized about what Mr. Duke looked like. In my mind, I had pictured him with a hairy chest, but even in my wildest dreams I was not prepared for the swirling mat of hair that covered his chest and stomach.
My eyes were blurry from the sweat that was pouring off of my forehead as I pulled off his shirt and ran my hands through the luxurious pelt of hair. Soft and thick, my fingers seemed lost in the jungle, and Mr. Duke seemed as shocked as he was pleased at my reaction to it.
Gordon Dewey, the guy I had exchanged hand jobs with the night that everybody else went to the senior prom, had a little hair around his nipples and the center of his chest, but nothing like this.
“You like hair, Tim?” Mr. Duke asked, and I blushed as I nodded, hypnotized by the look and feel of it.
What would Mr. Duke think if he knew that I watched wrestling on Saturday afternoons in hopes that George “The Animal” Steele would be on, and if he was, that I would be jerking off wildly while imagining him putting a bear hug on me?
Maybe it was because I was so pitifully endowed with hair that I found it so fascinating and erotic. The faint dusting on the lower insides of my calves, the soap pad-sized tuft over my dick and the sparse wisps under my arms had always been a source of embarrassment for me, so seeing a hirsute man like Mr. Duke in the flesh was a dream come true.
Mr. Duke laughed when he felt my dick, hard again, poke him in the thigh, and when I looked down I saw a bulge in his trousers, even though they were baggy.
“Can I – you know?” I mumbled.
“You don’t have to, you know,” Mr. Duke said. “I’m afraid that you’ll find me much less attractive than you are.”
“Wanna bet?” I said under my breath as I made undoing a belt seem like a challenge.
When I finally got it undone Mr. Duke’s slacks dropped to the floor like a rock, causing his wallet and keys to fall out, but he told me not to worry when I started to pick everything up.
Was Mr. Duke an Adonis? No. His legs were as bony as the rest of his body was, but they had a nice coating of hair on them, although not as profuse as his upper torso was.
What got my attention were his boxer shorts, but it wasn’t the ivory and brown striped underwear that had my interest. Instead, it was the prominent bulge that was trying to tear through the fabric had got my heart racing.
My hand went up and rubbed the end of the bulge, causing Mr. Duke to let out a soft sigh, and as I let my hand follow the bulge upward my breath came out in a series of ragged huffs.
“I – I always – when I – when you were in class,” I jabbered, trying to make myself semi-coherent. “I always though about what you would look like – you know – naked.”
“As did I with you,” Mr. Duke interrupted.
“But you – you’re so…”
“I’m not disappointed,” Mr. Duke said, interrupting me again. “I hope you aren’t either.”
“No,” I managed to say as Mr. Duke’s hands came up to my shoulders, and as he gave just the slightest pressure on them my knees cooperated.
There I was, on my knees in front of my old science teacher, with the bulge in his boxers right in front of my nose. I could smell the musky aroma of him as my hands came up and undid the snaps at the top of Mr. Duke’s boxers.
The first thing as I lowered the boxer shorts was hair – a whole lot of silver and grey hair that continued down from his stomach – and then I saw the stump of his cock, at least the part not overgrown with hair.
Beige in hue, the shaft of his cock was monstrously thick, with a vein that looked as wide as my entire cock, but as more and more of it was exposed the width of his penis began to lessen.
Just when I began to wonder when I would get the the head of Mr. Duke’s cock, his manhood sprang out from under the briefs, slapping me in the cheek when it did.
Mr. Duke wasn’t circumcised, which made what swayed in front of me look all the more unnerving. I could see the tip of his dick tucked inside his foreskin, as well as the outline of his glans beneath it, the shape of which resembled a jumbo olive.
A spear. Mr. Duke’s cock looked like a spear, and as my teacher reached down and peeled his foreskin back – probably sensing my unfamiliarity with it – the comparatively small head of his weapon looked out of place on the end of a penis that had to be twice as long as my own.
I was afraid to touch it, even though I really wanted to. My inexperience had me frozen, and when I looked up and Mr. Duke looking down at me, I admitted that I was in over my head. Exchanged hand jobs with a couple of guys did not prepare me for this.
“I’m sorry Mr. Duke – I never,” I stammered as Mr. Duke helped me to my feet.
“First of all, Timmy, I’m Donald, not Mr. Duke anymore,” he said, wrapping his arms around me and cuddling me to his chest. “And it’s okay. I told you that you didn’t need to do anything to me.”
“I want to though,” I said, and feeling that warm fur was reassuring, not to mention the sensation of his cock pressed against me.
Even though he was about a head taller than I was, our cocks somehow managed to find each other, and after feeling his against mine, my erection quickly returned.
“Here,” Mr. Duke said. “Just relax and we’ll just get to know each other.”
Donald Duke was 58, and had been married once long ago, until he could take the lying no longer. He loved his work and although he sometimes found it tough, he never so much as touched a student.
“You were the most difficult to resist,” Mr. Duke said. “I know you lost your Dad, and I sensed you were lonely and insecure. A lot like I was at your age.”
“I was indeed. That, and the fact that I found you such a sweet young man, gave me a lot of anxious moments, but I managed to wait until you graduated. And here you are.”
To this day, I have no idea how a pudgy and thoroughly unremarkable 18 year old such as I managed to make such an impression on him, but I was glad I did.
Mr. Duke went down on me again, and all too soon I was ejaculating down his throat. He had been kneeling at my hip, and I had finally managed to reach over and grab his cock, stroking his long prong slowly while his lips and tongue brought me to climax.
After I came, Mr. Duke eased down onto the bed, and when he did I assumed the position that my teacher had been in. I reached down and took his long spear in my hand, the semi-erect organ flopping around a bit as I tried to bring it upright.
As my hands squeezed his manhood, I felt the blood surge under my fingers and he became erect. What an incredible cock he had, I thought as my hands wrapped around the shaft of what looked like a rocket-ship, with my hands unable to reach up as far as the nose cone.
I began to move my hands up and down, the sight of the head of Mr. Duke’s cock popping in and out of his foreskin making me smile. Maybe if I hadn’t been circumcised, the presence of a foreskin might make mine look a bit more impressive, I briefly thought before looking down at my dick, which was poking Mr. Duke’s bony hip, and I laughed at the thought.
“Is this okay?” I asked my teacher, and he smiled and nodded.
“Feels delightful,” Mr. Duke replied as he sighed, linking his hands behind his head and looking down at my jerking him off.
I shivered as he did that, my eyes going to the deep hollows of Mr. Duke’s armpits, which were overflowing with thick tufts of hair. Without realizing it at first, I started rubbing the underside of my dick against his hip.
Mr. Duke smiled when he saw where my eyes were fixed, and then looked down on what I was doing with my dick, leaving a gooey trail of pre-cum.
“Sorry,” I said, while trying to go back to my hand job.
“No, Timmy. It’s okay,” Mr. Duke said quickly. “Truly it is. Don’t be ashamed. I’ll never judge you. Feel free to do anything you want to me. I’m having the most wonderful time.”
Hearing that, I bowed my head down and licked his nipple, feeling the hardness of the nub while my eyes stayed at the thick tuft of arm under his slender arm. He smelled nice – none perfumed or sweaty but a delightful mixture of the two, as if the chemical enhancements had been eroded by his manly perspiration.
My tongue slid over, and as it did Mr. Duke didn’t laugh, but sighed instead as i ran a very tentative tongue through the moist fur. Emboldened, my licking became more like ravaging, with me chewing and nuzzling while continuing to jerk him off.
Mr. Duke not only indulged me, but seemed to relish my odd affections, encouraging me to lean over and lick his other armpit. When I did, leaning over his body to lavish affection on the wild jungle of hair under his arm, I felt a slight tickling sensation under my own arm, and when I looked back I saw Mr. Duke’s tongue straining upwards, dabbing at the little spray of hairs tucked under my arm.
I came, and although whether it was seeing Mr. Duke, the feel of his tongue, or the fact that my dick had been pressing on his stomach after I leaned over him, I ejaculated all over him.
I was humiliated at my utter lack of control, but Mr. Duke didn’t seem to mind that I hosed him down with my semen. Instead, he let me go back to jerking him off and and sucking on his cock, which was now crimson and angry looking, swollen to become even larger than ever.
My hands were almost numb, and my jaw was aching, even though my mouth couldn’t get down anywhere near the really thick part, and I was wondering what I would do when he came. Would I be able to swallow it like he had me?
“Why don’t you take a break,” Mr. Duke suggested, seeming to realize that i was running out of energy despite my comparative youth.
“I want you to cum too,” I said, marveling at his self-control, which was as amazing as my complete lack of it.
“I will, Timmy,” Mr. Duke said as he positioned me on my hands and knees before climbing up behind me. “I want to see more of you. Oh, look at that. What a beautiful ass you have.”
Mr. Duke’s hands were squeezing my butt, spreading my legs and fondling my little nut sac while I knelt and stared at the headboard. He asked me if I ever did this, just before I felt his finger rubbing my anus.
“Once,” I answered, and then he inserted his finger, sliding it slowly through the puckered ring and corkscrewing it deep into my rectum.
“Did you ever do that?” He asked, and I told him once, although Mr. Duke’s finger was way longer than mine, and was probing deep.
“Feels good though, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” I grunted.
“How about this then?” he asked, slipping his finger out of me, and after his digit left my ass I was sorry, but only for a second.
I lurched forward when I felt something warm and wet rubbing my ass knot, and when I felt breathing and the pressing of his face between my ass cheeks I figured out what was happening.
“Ohhh – yes,” I answered regarding whether it felt good.
It felt more than good, and when Mr. Duke’s tongue worked into my ass my arms gave way. Now my face was in the pillow, which made my ass go higher, making it even easier for Mr. Duke’s tongue.
It felt so good that words could not describe it. I actually had a little orgasm, my limp dick tingling and squirting a little cum while he spread my ass cheeks further apart and licked away.
Dazed, I remember his tongue being replaced by his finger, and then a second finger. It hurt, but in a good way, and then there felt like a third finger went inside of me. Maybe it was his whole first – his arm. It didn’t know, only that it felt incredible.
“Mr. – Donald?” I asked when I felt him climb off the bed.
Did he cum? Had he jerked off while fingering my ass? No. He was at the side of the bed, pulling something out of the drawer while his cock sprang around wildly in front of him.
Now he was squeezing something into his hand, and then rubbed some kind of gel all over his cock, making the crimson pole sparkle as his fist slid up and down.
I wanted to do that for him, but as he climbed back onto the bed I realized that he wasn’t jerking off but priming himself, and as he climbed back behind me his fingers primed me.
Being ignorant, I had no knowledge of anything remotely resembling what was about to happen, so when I felt his finger leave me and was replaced with something else, it actually took me a second to figure it out.
Then I felt it. Mr. Duke was putting his cock into me. I panicked, fearing what that monstrous organ would do, but while his bony fingers had been painful, his flesh and blood member was more forgiving, and as he poured more of himself into my ass I gave in and clutched at the bedding.
I didn’t understand how all of that manhood could possibly fit into me, and at that point it hadn’t, but the sensation of his cock going into my rectum made me practically convulse.
“So good,” Mr. Duke was moaning as he mounted me, his long arms wrapped around me as he gently moved his cock into and out of me.
His hairy body felt comforting against my sweaty skin, and his gentle probing made me feel so good that even when his thrusts become deeper and a bit harder, I not only took it but welcomed it.
“I’m okay,” I mumbled when Mr. Duke asked me how I was. “Feels good. Is it all in me?”
“No, Timmy,” he assured me. “I wouldn’t do that do you.”
“Do it,” I grunted. “Go deeper. Please. I want it all.”
Mr. Duke eased more of his cock into me, and the deeper he went the better I liked it. It wasn’t the deepness that was a challenge, it was the thickness of his cock, and when I remembered exactly how fat his tool was down toward the base, I tried not to think of what that was doing to my little anus.
“So good – so fucking tight,” Mr. Duke grunted, and the sound of him swearing only excited me more.
His hands were all over me, pulling on my nipples and yanking on my limp noodle crazily as I felt like I was about to split in two before I heard Mr. Duke groan loudly.
My savaged rectum was soothed when his cum filled my bowels, and as he squeezed me tightly I felt his dick jerking inside of me. Mr. Duke stayed mounted onto me as his breathing finally began to slow down, and then when I felt his tool slither out of my ass I felt empty but relieved at the same time.
My teacher collapsed beside me, and as he spooned up to me I savored his feel of his body as we basked in the afterglow.
I had learned so much from Mr. Duke – not in his class but in that bed. I was never going to be a scientist or anything like that, but I learned that I had a lust for older men – well endowed older men with a desire of their own to sample what I was very happy to offer.