Me and Mr Donovan

Yeah Mr Donovan, oh yeah, take it Mr Donovan, take my big fat cock up your hairy ass.

I woke, there was a pool of cum in my groin. Again.

I was newly 18 and in my final year at school. My favourite subject was drama, and my favourite teacher was the new one, Mr Donovan. He was my favourite subject too, to be honest. Every night I jerked off thinking of him, and every morning too. Oh yes, and with the occasional wet dream in between.

Mr Donovan was maybe one of the youngest teachers at school. I guess. He was 28. I knew that as due to an elaborate question in class about something else entirely I had discovered the year of his birth.

He was tall but not freak tall, like the PE master, Mr Herlihy. Mr Donovan had a broad smile and great teeth. Sometimes he had a beard which tended to be red, and sometimes he was just clean shaven. When his shirt cuffs road up or his shirt sleeves were rolled up his wrists were thick with curly reddish hair, and his forearms were like a forest.

And he wore a corduroy jacket. Sometimes corduroy trousers. And often the corduroy when it was not green was the same golden colour as his hair. His eyes, by the way were the deepest blue. I knew that. Because I stared at them all the time through class.

I was very pleased one day when Mr Donovan announced that we were going to go into the city to see a theatre performance. This was going to be Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida. I was very excited indeed.

Mr Donovan stood at the front of the class. He was clearly very excited himself. Not the boner sort of excitement like me though. That day he was wearing his tan coloured corduroy jacket, as well as clean blue jeans. I could not help but notice that day as I had noticed many times before that he filled out the crotch of his blue jeans very well. He was, I guess the term was – hung.

How many of you would like to go and see Troilus and Cressida? He asked. I am sure it is going to be very exciting. Ask your parents if you can go. The school is going to pay. For the tickets. And for the overnight stay in a real live swanky hostel. So let's go to the city. And have some fun and see a really good Shakespeare play. It should be quite an experience, he said.

Five of us seniors were gonna go, but in the end there was an outbreak of influenza at our school, I was fine but three all were in bed or recuperating and another had a soccer injury. So it looked like the trip to Troilus and Cressida, was off. I was just waiting now to go off sick too. Mom took my temperature all the time.

But then, Mr Donovan asked me to wait after class a couple of days before the date.

Hey, Christian. I know you were looking forward to going to see this Shakespeare play. Do you still want to go? I know it will just be you and me and none of your friends. But if you can put up with me, Then I would sure still like to go. How about you? But you will have to get permission from your parents – as you will, you know, be alone with, erm, just me. It is kinda unusual.

I blushed very deeply. How could I tell Mister Donovan that the idea of going to see Shakespeare with him - And with him alone - Sounded like perfection to me?

I nodded.

Yes, Mr Donovan, I would like to do that.

I prayed I would not get sick. I packed aspirin just in case. I made a deal at Church not to jerk off if I could go on that trip. I broke my vow, but got to go anyway.

We were gonna catch the train and he shook hands with Mom at the station. He had his glasses on so he looked older and he was growing a bit of a beard at that point so maybe that made him look older too.

I heard him tell Mom that he would look after me, and Mom told him that he needed to tell me off if I got a bit above myself. And make sure he showers.

We all laughed, though I was a bit embarrassed.

He sat opposite me on the train and asked me various questions about books and hobbies and sports I played. I thought he seemed interested when I told him about my medals for diving. He said he had done a lot of swimming at college. I guess that meant he would have had to shave off all his chest and stomach hair. I knew some of the older guys had to do that at the pool. And was about to ask him about that when he mentioned his fiancee by name and I was a little bit upset but mostly just jealous. I managed to ask if they had set a date for the wedding, and was pleased, when he looked a little troubled and replied, no they had not yet.

When we got to the city we checked into the hotel. The first of the surprises came then. We had been told it would be a hostel with bunks in a dorm. Pretty basic. Mr Donovan led me to rather a smart elegant place not far from the train station and in an elegant square of historic buildings.

When he saw my face he explained that he had switched the reservations at the last minute when he knew I was gonna be the only one on the trip, so we were getting, as he said, a bit of comfort and class.

The second surprise came when we got to the room, as there was only one room. We were sharing. There were two beds side by side.

He saw my face and maybe tried to read my expression.

Is this OK Christian? You comfortable with sharing with an old man? You want me to try and get another room?

No, I said, Mr Donovan, this is just fine.

I had a very red face I knew.

Well, at least we are not sharing one bed, he laughed. Then I might really be complaining! Do you snore Christian?

I said I did not know, which was the truth. He said he had been known to snore. I wondered who knew that.

We still had a few hours before the theatre. Mr Donovan said we could shower and change and then go for a walk and then have dinner in the restaurant in the hotel. The theatre was about a 15 minute walk from here.

Or do you want to just have a hamburger or a hot dog if the dinner here is not your thing?

I wanted to have the dinner in the hotel and said so.

Good man, Christian, OK, said Mr Donovan, do you want to shower first? I’ll call the restaurant and book a table. And hey, you can call me Dan for tonight you know, leave out this Mr D business. Heck, you could be my little brother anyway. I’ve got three already, but none as tall as you.

I did not really want to shower, but I got my change of shirt out of my overnight bag, sat down on the bed and took off my shoes and socks, and then decided I was gonna undress in the little bathroom.

Mr Donovan smiled.

Hey, go into the bathroom Christian for the rest. Go ahead, he said. Say, that’s a nice shirt.

I had taken my spare shirt out of my bag. It was a pretty ordinary shirt, but it was my best one.

Hey, why don’t I hang it up for you here on a hanger, get the creases out?

He did just that. I took my old shirt off, unbuttoning it slowly, so I was just in my jeans and teeshirt.

Mr Donovan, sorry Dan, was watching me all the time.

Say, you’ve got big feet Christian, he remarked. And I can see the benefits of all that training for the pool now. You’re big all over.

I swallowed.

He stood over me.

Sorry Christian, but before you go in there, I’d better visit, you know.

He crossed the room, left the door open, and I could hear him urinating then flushing, it was not very long at all, and he came back buttoning up his Levis.

OK, it is all yours, he said.

I showered quickly, trying not to think about Mr Donovan. Who am I kiddin? I had to jerk myself off quickly, and I mean quickly, and before I knew it I was shooting a helluva lot of hot spunk up against the tiles of the shower. I think maybe I shouted out too as I came over and over again and I just fuckin hoped he had not heard that.

I was very careful to wash away all the jizz down the plug just in case he noticed or smelled it. I towelled myself more thoroughly than usual till my skin was red. I dressed carefully. My cheeks were scarlet I saw in the mirror.

When I went to unlock the door I found I had not locked it all. Jesus Christ. Was that what was known as a Freudian slip?

Back in the bedroom I found Mr Donovan was on the phone – it sounded like he was talking to somebody he cared about. He finished by saying, I love you, then hung up, and looked over at me sheepishly.

My other half, he said with a grin.

He had begun to undress, pulling off his tie.

Do you have an other half, Christian, he asked with a smile. If you do not mind me asking that is.

When I shook my head, he responded.

All in due time, a handsome lad like you.

He was now getting ready for his shower and it kinda looked like he was going to strip off in front of me.

His shoes and socks were off and so was his shirt, so he was in a vest, one of those scoop necked kind which showed how much hair was on his chest.

Then he caught me staring and stopped himself.

I’d better finish off in there – sorry Christian.

He seemed to have quite a long shower. Part of me hoped he was jerking off in there too.

I just stood and looked out the window and had a boner. I was ready to go out.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and there was a gust of steamy pine scented atmosphere – and Mr Donovan was back in the bedroom, hair all wet, and wrapped only in a towel.

Sorry Christian, I forgot this – he went to his bag and got out a leather toilet bag.

I was able to have a good look at him, all that hair slicked down on his legs, his forearms too, but most of all the wet furry rug all over his stomach and chest. Heck, Mr Donovan looked like a caveman.

Forgot my razor he said, feel like a shave.

He left the door open, and spoke to me, as he shaved. I could almost hear the razor in the soap.

When I replied, he said he could not make out what I said and I should get closer.

So I stood in the doorway in the scented steam and watched him shave in his towel. He kept having to wipe the mirror. I was close to his broad tanned back and saw the patch of red hair between his shoulder blades and the other patch far down where his towel covered the top of his buttocks.

In the mirror I could see his face and the great expanse of his wet and hairy chest. He had a medal or something in a chain which moved as he shaved. For a bit it hung over one his big flat nipples.

I was giving him answers like a robot and he was asking more questions but all the same I was just in a trance watching him.

At last he finished. And when I kept on staring he had to point out he had finished.

Hey, Christian, I am standing naked here and need to get some clothes on.

Oh yes, sorry Mr Donovan I mumbled.

He grinned. Remember, it is “sorry Dan”. But just for tonight.

He held up his hand to make a funny ironic gesture, but then suddenly he dived to grab his towel which had threatened to fall to the bathroom floor.

Hey, that was close, he said, they could have arrested me for that. Don’t tell your Mom will you Christian?

We both laughed.

And then there was the play.

I had read Troilus and Cressida as prep for the show but it was a familiar story and easy to follow even it was not one of the most famous Shakespeares. Heck, it was full of naked bronze soldiers. There must have been a lot of work in the gym during rehearsals. The actor playing Achilles was my favourite – he really was built and spent most of the play with his top off or wrapped in some sort of toga. The Troilus was cute too, like Mr Donovan in fact.

I really enjoyed it, so much so I almost forgot who was sitting next to me, sometimes hot cord thigh to hot denim thigh. There were moments when he touched my knee for emphasis. Even a bit when he stretched his arm over the back of my seat and I could almost feel the fingers on my neck, or what they would feel like.

Afterwards, Mr Donovan was really high.

Christian – will your Mom mind if we go to a bar?

I shook my head.

In that case I’ve got a surprise for you.

 

The bar was surprisingly quiet, subdued lights and music. I had been in bars before but never one in the city.

I was age to drink but just had a coke, and Mr Donovan had something that looked the same but had vodka or rum in it as well.

Hey I said – into the bar walked the actor who had played Achilles, and he walked right up to our table, smiling.

Mr Donovan got up and embraced him. Two grown men embracing.

Christian, this is Mark, Mark this is Christian – he’s my best student.

And I bet the best looking said the actor.

Close up he was not quite so handsome, his hair was thinning, and of course his body was covered up in winter layers, but he had a nice smile and a friendly manner.

Mr Donovan went up to get us more drinks.

You’re pretty cute Christian, said Mark. Are you and Don dating? Or would you rather not share?

He winked.

I blushed and hesitated, and shook my head as if he had said the most ridiculous thing.

Mark laughed and patted me on the arm.

Just hoping, eh?

Just then Mr Donovan came back with the drinks. This time mine had rum in it, and he winked at me.

We talked about the play and Mark told us about the production and the tour and who in the cast was a real pain (Troilus) and who was a sweetheart (Cressida). He had ordered a pizza at the bar and offered a slice to me – here Christian get used to the anchovies, they’re Don’s favourites, so you’d better get used to them if you want to get top marks.

Mr Donovan pretended to be angry and told him to shut up. But I saw he was pleased when I said I liked the fishy taste.

We started drinking beers, and Mark, who was drinking quickly, said he knew a bar in the next block that would be more fun. Mr Donovan frowned a bit and told Mark we were fine where we were.

But we did go to the new bar. It took me about ten seconds to click that there were mostly men there and any women there looked like men too. I guess this was a gay bar. I looked at Mr Donovan’s face to check his reaction. He did not look shocked, maybe wary, that was all.

Mark kept whispering in my ear, pointing out the men he liked. He was funny. I was glad I had drunk those beers but wondered how many more I could have before I vomited or fell over, or both. Mark drank a lot, Mr Donovan less so. Mark asked me to dance, which was weird but fun, then he danced with Mr Donovan, then he gestured me on to the dance floor too.

I like a threesome he shouted into my ear.

Mr Donovan was a good dancer, me not so much. We were dancing very close, and Mark pulled us all together closely so I could smell Mr Donovan’s sweat. Mark took off his shirt. Mr Donovan shook his head and said no way, but Mark got it pulled off him.

Jesus H Christ. They were both hairy men, especially my teacher, and their chests were sweaty now with all the dancing. Who were these men? Who was my Mr Donovan?

Come on Christian, shouted Mark, slipping his hand up my back, then starting to unbutton me. I had a tee underneath, but I pulled it down over my flat smooth stomach as he tried to get that off me too, and Mr Donovan stopped him doing anything else. I think he shouted, leave the kid alone, and Mark shouted back, spoilsport. Then – jealous?

I went off to the men’s room, which was an experience in itself, the narrow corridor full of men kissing, and all the stalls occupied. I was surprised I could even pee but I needed to, and I did, at the trough.

I was in the middle of that when Mark came in and stood next to me. He looked fairly woozy in the harsh lights. He kept talking, asking how I liked the bar and how he had known Mr Donovan for a very long time.

Mind if I look, he asked.

Jeeze, he exclaimed, you’re very well hung boy, no wonder old Don is sweet on you. Have you let him see it yet? He will go fuckin crazy for it. He likes em young and big. But I don’t need to tell you that do I?

I coughed a bit. The beer had hit me. But was I very well-hung? It was not the sort of conversation we had at home.

When I finished off in the rest room and went back into the bar I walked differently. I felt very well-hung and as if every one of the men there knew that as they stared at my crotch.

I lost track of the dancing and the songs and the drinks, though I think Mr Donovan was making sure I was drinking water by then. Mark was doing a lot of dancing with other men, including a couple who I recognised from the play earlier. Mr Donovan stayed with me on the fringes of the dance floor, where I was propped up against the wall.

Mark had met a tall black man. His shirt was off too and he looked like a statue, but a hot sweaty one with a lot of thrusting hip action. They were sort of dancing together but also just embracing and kissing and running their hands over one another.

The other man had a little bottle in his hand which he held under Mark’s nostrils and then under his own. They seemed to kiss a lot after that and press themselves tight against one another.  If it had not been so dark I am sure I would have seen the outlines of their boners. I had one too of course in my jeans, despite my drunkenness and general sick feeling.

It was like watching another play, but one that was all action, no speeches. I had a feeling Mark and his new friend were gonna have sex in front of us on the dancefloor. Better than Shakespeare.

I felt Mr Donovan close to my ear. He was saying he thought we should go. 

We did, just as well as I was immediately very sick in the alley outside. There was light rain in the air and Mr Donovan held my head as I threw up. At last it seemed to be over.

He looked concerned, worried, and asked if I was OK.

I felt great, and told him so.

He laughed and shook his head. Youth, he said.

We were not far off from the hotel, the streets were wet now, and we stopped off at a late night eating place. I had an appetite now and ate a burger while Mr Donovan had a large coffee, which he shared with me. I burped on my coke.

Heck, you look good Christian, he said, for a young man who has been out drinking late, and who five minutes ago lost all of that fancy dinner. I like to see a boy with an appetite. And stamina.

He grinned.

He looked good too, colour in his cheeks, though I had the sense he was anxious.

I am not going to tell Mom about all of this, I said, with ketchup on my chin.

He smiled and looked relieved, reached over and wiped the red sauce off my chin with his finger, then licked his finger clean.

You need a shave Chris, he said. Sorry, I should not have done that ketchup thing.

Nobody calls me Chris, except my parents and Grandma.

Chris, he said quietly, when we get back to the hotel, you know I’d like to … but only if you wanted to, you know what I mean, only if you were willing. I know I am your teacher, but, well you know … I’m not much older.

Under the table my cock was very hard. I felt his hand on my knee. I was going to let him do whatever he wanted to do, in the diner or the hotel or up an alley on the way back.

Just then somebody called out our names and Mark came in with his friend. He was loud and Mr Donovan looked about, but nobody seemed to care. Mark hugged us both and introduced his friend, who was called Rock, as in Hudson he said.

Rock smiled, showing off some fantastic teeth with a gap in the middle. He was one fine figure of a man. He shook my hand and just about squeezed the blood out of it. He sat down opposite me, so close I could feel his thighs under the table. His shirt was unbuttoned all the way down and his dark skin was covered in little black curls. Mr Donovan looked pretty small beside him. In the light I wanted to have a look between his legs. Was Rock part of the well-endowed Club too? Was Mr Donovan, I mean Dan?

Mark went up to order for them, making a joke that just like Christian, he liked something thick and meaty in the early hours.

Mr Donovan shook his head and laughed. We all seemed to be doing pretty good for it being so late or early rather. I looked at my watch.

Hey, said Dan, let’s just call him Dan, we’ve got a train to catch in approximately seven hours, Chris and me. Shall we go?

Mark and Rock tagged along with us, eating their burgers, Mark especially making a lot of noise and laughing loudly. When we got to the hotel the two of them followed us in.

No way, said Dan. This is a respectable hotel. Go home.

Mark quietened down and continued talking in an impressive Shakespearean voice. The night clerk smiled and said, Good morning gentlemen.

Mark engaged him in polite conversation, then caught up with us at the lift.

Cute guy that, he said, nearly invited him up to share, bet he was willing.

Dan seemed a little nervous now. Our double room seemed very small indeed with three big men and me in it. Rock took a very large bottle of vodka out of his rucksack. We passed around the two glasses, me sharing with Dan.

No music now Mark, he warned. I am on school business remember, I am responsible for Chris remember, and, he added looking at his watch, Chris and I have a train to catch in approximately 6 hours time, we need to get to bed.

Too true, too true, said Mark, we all need to get to bed, and hey there are two beds here, so we are all sorted. And I am ready for bed.

He beckoned to Rock and he joined him on what had been Dan’s bed the night before. Immediately they began to make out, between drinks of vodka from the one glass.

The tops came off with a lot of kissing. Rock’s chest was impressive as well as furry. His tongue was very long and pink, not just in Mark’s mouth but all over his bare chest and then down towards his navel.

Dan was standing by the TV, vodka glass in hand. I tried to read his expression. I was sitting on my own bed, watching him, watching Mark and Rock.

They reached for each other’s belts. Rock stood up and Mark let him do the unbuckling and then the unzipping. His underpants looked very white against his skin.

I looked across to Dan. He looked back at me and sorta shrugged, then he came over and offered me the vodka glass, but a bottle of water too.

You OK Chris, he whispered. He repeated it. You know, I can stop this now, send them home now.

I nodded. I shook my head. I’m cool, I whispered.

Dan sat beside me on my bed and we were the audience, sharing the glass. I felt him put his arm around me.

Mark was pulling Rock’s cock out of his Calvins and exclaiming with pleasure. I heard Dan make an involuntary sound as Rock’s black truncheon came out in the open. Immediately Mark was swallowing it and slurping on it, and Rock was smiling and giggling and telling him to do more of this and that but definitely not to stop.

I felt Dan’s warm hand on my inner thigh, his warm breath on my neck.

Chris, he murmured, and it sounded like a question.

I leaned back a bit and felt his lips on the back of my neck and near my ear, then the brush of his lips on my lobe.

Chris, he murmured again, but not so much like a question.

I felt a finger on my crotch, stroking where my boner was obvious, pushing out the front of my jeans.

Oh Chris, he said. What a special boy you are. Not just in class.

Across on the other bed, Rock’s pants were coming off, and Mark was quickly naked. The bed side lamp was golden on their skin and Rock was shining. Fuck, I had never seen black ass cheeks before. What was it they said, booty?

Mark was kissing all over Rock’s front, his cock was hard and bobbing, not as big as Rock’s, and not as big as mine I realised. And fuck, I was only 18.

Dan’s fingers were unbuttoning my good blue shirt, running inside over my white tee, finding my nipples, which were fuckin hard, who knew that happened. Then Dan’s fingers were lifting up my tee, and I felt the tips of them on my skin underneath, touching my belly button with its little bit of fair fluff, and then up, back to my nipps, tickling them, so I giggled for a moment.

Chris, he whispered, can I?

I did not care what the question was, the answer was yes. In front of us Mark was flat on his back with his dick standing up, and Rock was sticking his cock into his mouth. I knew Mark well enough by now to know he would take it noisily, and he did. There were oaths as well as slurps and moans. For his part Rock just seemed to be chanting yes and fuck alternately.

Dan was still behind me, but I felt he was unbuttoning his shirt, then his hands were at my belt buckle.

Please, he said into my neck. I sat back into him, and then quickly took off my shirt and tee, and he did the same, so I was leaning back with my bare skin against Mr Donovan’s, I mean Dan’s chest hair. He rubbed it against me. He was hairier than Mark or Rock, at least it felt like that, pressed against me. I wanted to reach for his cock. I wanted it in my hand now, or maybe my mouth. Was he gonna be bigger than me? I kinda hoped so.

Fuck. Rock stood up, reached for his jeans, then he had that black bottle in his hand, and he was sniffing and Mark was sniffing, then he was lowering himself on Mark’s cock. Fuckin ouch. They both swore but did not stop. Rock’s cock was like a rod sticking out, shiny, and fuck, dripping. Had he cum already?

Rock reached over and handed the bottle to Dan. He took a deep sniff of whatever it was. And another.

Chris, said Dan, he twisted his head around and kissed me, long and deep. Who knew Mr Donovan had a long tongue and did things with it? His mouth and cheeks were rough on my skin, bristles had popped up overnight. His finger was measuring out the full length of my cock in my pants, rubbing through my jeans. It was getting far too fuckin much. I needed to jerk off now, or Mr Donovan’s fist had to do it for me. Quickly. My cock had to get out in the open now before it was too late.

Then I felt him whispering in my ear, his lips and bristly mouth and chin.

Jesus Christ Chris, Mark says you’ve got a really big cock - will you fuck me?

I made some sort of noise which was supposed to be yes.

Let me get at it then, he whispered. Let me get my reward.

Dan unbuckled my belt. I lifted my ass off the bed, and felt him unzipping my jeans, then pulling them down a bit.

I had worn a white jockstrap for my sexy teacher. This big cock that Mark had told me about was now standing up straight (or gay I guess) and proud in my groin, stretching the white cotton to fuck. Stretching so tight that Dan would easily see the slit of my knob that was now dripping into the material and had already made a big stain.

Jesus Chris, whispered Dan, just look at you.

Both Mark and Rock stopped their mucking about and were my audience now too.

Fuck Chris, said Dan, you’re fuckin huge.

I could hear Mark and Rock making appreciative noises.

Here Chris, deep sniff.

Dan held the bottle under my nostrils and I did what they had done. My head fuckin swam.

I saw Dan’s hand go down to the front of my jock.

Any wordless noise I made then was accompanied by a sudden jolt, a violent ejaculation in my jock. Yup, I was cumming and cumming and crying out and cumming again and it seemed to go on for fuckin ever.

Dan was kissing me while I was doing all that and fuck it was prolonged as well as violent and messy.

He fed me more poppers too.

At last I stopped all of that shooting and shouting and Dan cradled me in his arms and comforted me, kissing my face gently.

Good boy, he said.

He was laughing a little too, and Mark and Rock (still impaled on top) were watching and giggling too. They burst into applause and Dan told them to be quieter.

Jesus, man, said Mark, you actually shot thru that jock, like a fuckin rocket. A jizz rocket.

They laughed and toasted me with another vodka.

I felt like a fool. Never mind the big trail on the coffee table. My crotch was full of hot spunk. You could still see the length and girth of my stiff dick through the jock but now most of the material was sodden where my knob had exploded.

Genius, said Mark, a born performer.

I got off the bed and went to the bathroom in my wet jock. Dan followed me in. He looked amused.

I’m proud of you, he said, that was pretty impressive. I’m a little disappointed I did n’t make it happen tho.

You did make it happen, Dan, I mumbled.

I eased the jock down and threw it in the shower and was washing my cock in the sink, washing away all the sticky smelly semen, which was plastered and dripping all over me and my hair growing down there.

I had a red face the mirror showed, so did Dan, but he was smiling.

Here, let me give you a hand, he said.

He gently washed and wiped me, felt my balls, rubbed away all the white stuff, all the way up to my belly button. The water made the hair look darker than it was.

I was still hard, my knob was still swollen and purple. There had been a big dripping trail from the slit and it was now washed away, but it came back soon enough.

He kissed me gently on my cheeks and on my mouth.

You’re a fine figure of a young man Christian he said. And what a cock you’ve got. Lucky boy.

In spite of everything I felt myself get just a bit more rigid in his presence.

But I fucked it all up I said.

How, he smiled. There’s plenty more where that came from, yeah? That was only a taster, eh? That was the preview. He laughed.

We hugged in the small harsh light of the bathroom and for the first time I stroked his chest. It smelled of sweat and cologne and Mr Donovan. His cords were unzipped but his cock was still out of sight.

Mine was up and hard as ever, but wet now with hot water, not jizz.

Dan yawned.

Come on, he said.

We went back into the bedroom. I was naked completely now, with a big hard cock sticking out in front of me. There was no audience now though. Mark and Rock had gone, leaving Mr Donovan’s bed crumpled, maybe wet too.

Maybe they were shy, he said.

Dan checked the watch on his hairy wrist. Jesus, he said, we will have to get up soon.

Without any discussion, we both got into my bed. I was naked already but he had to take off his trousers of course.  I was nodding off as he did that. Very quickly. I could see that his legs were covered in rust coloured thick hair lit up by the bedside lamp. I guess he was - Ah, a very hairy young man. Those were my last thoughts before I fell fast asleep.

 

Inevitably I slept well, even with another body in the single bed. Sorry to disappoint you, but I did not wake in the middle of the night and fuck the hell out of my willing teacher. In fact when I woke it was definitely daylight and I saw a clothed Mr Donovan tying his tie at the mirror.

He turned and smiled at me, morning Christian, he said. We’ve got an hour before the train. Can you face breakfast downstairs? I’ve had mine, I left you snoring.

I guess I felt OK or at least I said so. I took the aspirin he offered all the same and felt better for the glass of water.

I got out of bed and took my time heading for the shower, naked. Mr Donovan watched me, smiling. My cock was bobbing about a bit, what with the morning wood and knowing he was watching. I left the door open, took my shower slowly, enjoying the hotel’s classy shower oils, and thinking about the last day and last night and what I had seen and felt.

I turned and saw Mr Donovan was in the bathroom too, watching. My jock was drying on the radiator. He must have rinsed it out, no sign of load stains.

I switched off the shower and opened the glass door.

I’m going to skip breakfast Mr Donovan. I am feeling a bit dirty though, can you help me out?

But I am fully dressed, and we’re short of time and …

Stop wasting time sir I said, get into the fuckin shower.

He did. Soon he was soaked. I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled up his tee and let the hot water stream over his chest and stomach hair. I pulled off his belt and pulled down his sodden cords, and then his fresh briefs and out swung at last Mr Donovan’s hard cock in its nest of curly red hair, his big furry balls swinging about.

Sure my cock was bigger than his, and he soon found that out the hard way, I was a quick learner of course, and I turned him round, pushed him against the white tiles and fucked him up the ass with my big 18 year old cock. And fuck, teacher liked it. I liked holding on to his wet furry body as I fucked him.

No danger of missing the train as it did not take me long to lose my new load deep inside Mr Donovan. I bit his neck as I shot my jizz but no one heard him shout out.

Half an hour later teacher and prize pupil were on the platform waiting for the train home. Mr Donovan’s hair was still damp. And he was back in the smart clothes he had worn last night. Now he also carried a plastic bag of his wet travelling clothes. He had a red face still. But quite a pleased red face all the same.

On the way home we talked about the play and he reminded me I would have to write an essay on the performance.

I bet I get top marks, I said, I’d better, and looked out the train window at the passing scenery, pretending to be snotty. I might need some private tuition before I hand it in though.

I am happy to give you some personal feedback Chris, he said. Anytime, night or day.

We sat opposite one another. I could see Mr Donovan’s boner clearly enough in his dark pants. I had a matching – only bigger – one in my jeans. I reached into my pocket and felt the little black bottle he had left on the bedside table.

Mr Donovan checked his watch on his red hairy wrist. We still had a couple of hours before our home station. Mom had promised to come and collect me. I was going to tell her I wanted to see more theatre in town. I was going to major in theatre history. I sat back in my seat and spread my long legs wider than was strictly necessary.

He looked at my groin and nodded, smiling.

I kept an eye on the rest room between compartments. People came and went.

I leant over the table and said something into Mr Donovan’s fluffy ear. He got up and went into the rest room.

I sat back for a moment or two, my fingers on the poppers bottle in my jeans pocket. When I got up from my seat I did not give a fuck if anybody noticed my giant young cock was tenting the denim or what I was sniffing urgently as I ran along the corridor.

The train was noisy. The rest room door was locked behind me.

Mr Donovan was clutching on to the window frame as I slipped down the fresh white briefs he had lent me and hammered his furry ass hole.

Yes, yes, he cried out, as he spunked suddenly and streaked and spattered on the dirty glass.

I gave him one more big load just to make sure.

He groaned and shouted out.

Top of the fuckin class!