Rich Boys' Reform School

RICH BOYS’ REFORM SCHOOL - 2

by Mighty Mouth

            By popular demand, I provide herewith episode two of this narrative. Perhaps it should be sub-titled “the lemonade saga.” To summarize, I am the grounds keeper and handyman for a rich boys’ reform school. Episode one chronicled my sexual adventures with a couple of the 30 boys here. The school has a headmaster, and two full-time teachers. So, on with the story.

            It’s appropriate to talk about the headmaster. He’s about 30, and is the equivalent of a drill sergeant, which his job requires. He has an aristocratic American name. When we first met he introduced himself as Benjamin Harrison Meriwhether, but said, “You can just call me Benjamin.” 

            The next afternoon after Henry and Phillip gave me double pleasure, I was watching porno in my cottage when somebody knocked on my front door. When I opened the door, there stood a fat and ugly teenager whom I had seen around the school.

            He greeted me with, “Hello, my name’s Teddy. I heard that you serve great lemonade.”

            I thought to myself, “Yeah, you look like a fat teddy bear, but not one I would want to cuddle. I’ll bet you read the ad in the bathroom and that’s your real motive for coming here. I wouldn’t suck you off if you were the last male left on earth beside myself.”

            I replied, and not very politely, “Sorry, I don’t have any lemonade, and besides I’m very busy. You’ll have to come back some other time.” He looked crest-fallen, but went away, as I slammed my front door to show my disapproval.

            Finishing a good jerk off session at my computer, I poured myself an Irish whiskey and went to sit outside my “shack.” Shortly, the guy whom I recognized as the reform school bully started pacing back and forth near my house. I thought, “That asshole, no wonder his parents sent him here. This looks like potential trouble.”

            After a bit he approached me, and startled me by saying, “Hey, faggot, why don’t you go get a job somewhere else?”

            This infuriated me, so I shouted, “You’d better get the fuck out of here before I beat the shit out of you and phone  headmaster Benjamin.” Of course I had no intention of punching him, because it would mean the end of my job at the reform school.

            He meandered off slowly back toward the main building, turning around every few paces to glare at me. But ten minutes later I saw him returning. By now I was really boiling.

            He surprised me, saying, “Hey, I apologize for saying what I said. It’s just that I want to ask you a question.”

            “What question,” I scowled.

            “Well... it’s hard to put it, but .... I read something about you on the shit house wall.”

            “Yes, I know about it,” I told him.

            “So, is it true?”

            I retorted, “Even if were true, I wouldn’t tell you, You’d just go blab to everybody at the school.”

            “No, I wouldn’t. I swear.”

            I answered, “Go inside and get my other chair. Then we’ll talk.” He seemed to want to open up to me. I figured out what was really on his mind–getting a blow job.

            I thought, “He’s quite handsome. He must be at least six feet tall. It would be nice to see what’s between his legs, but I think I’ll just play mind games with him.” When he returned, I asked, “So, what’s your name? I’m sure it isn’t Bully. He scowled but answered, “It’s Reginald, but don’t call me Reggie. I hate that nickname.” I offered him some lemonade, and he accepted.

            I said, “I’ll bet you would really like to have some alcohol, but I know that you are only 18, and the legal drinking age is 21.”

            “You’re right there.”

            I poured a lemonade for him, but added a bit of champagne, a viagra pill, and more sugar, to camouflage the added zest. I served him this concoction, and said, “Tell me about yourself. You must make out with girls very easily.”

            “Yeah, I have my pick when I’m on the outside, but here I’m very hard up.”

            I replied, “Well, I’ll bet you feel hard up a lot.” I queried, “Did some of those bitches suck you off?”

            He bragged, “Yes, they loved my big dick, but I had to force them to do it. And they couldn’t do a good job.”

            I wondered how big his dick was, but wasn’t ready to broach this subject yet. He began to fiddle with his dick in his pants, so I asked, “Do you like to watch porno?”

            “Sure, but I can’t do it in this hell hole of a place.”

            I told him to go inside and help himself to my computer. I didn’t budge from my seat. I imagined that the porno would speed up the viagra’s effect. After about 10 minutes, I wanted to see what he was up to, so I went inside. He was sitting all sprawled out, with his long legs spread way apart, and rubbing his crotch like crazy. I could see the outlines of a very sizeable cock, just as I had expected.

            “I could sure use a mouth on this baby right now,” he exclaimed, squeezing his prick.

            I answered, “Well, I don’t know who’s gonna do it for you. It’s just you and me here. I don’t have a female waiting to suck you off. You came here because you thought I would give you a blow job, right?”

            “Yeah I hoped you would. Tell me the truth, aren’t you interested?” With that he unzipped his pants and hauled out a whopper, shaking it in my direction.

            “What chutzpah,” I thought, as I stared at his prick.

            “Come on, I can see you want it. I won’t tell anybody, I promise. I’ve never felt this horny in my life.”

            “Why don’t you take off your trousers and shorts and sit back down?” I instructed.

            He looked at me quizzingly, but did as I suggested. Then I surprised him by kneeling in front of him, taking his cock in hand, then swallowing all of it.

            “Jesus Christ! That’s fantastic! How do you do that?” he asked in ecstasy.

            So I began my slow but steady rhythm, with him moaning, breathing hard, and obviously in heaven. And I couldn’t remember when I had last sucked a cock that hard. I knew he wouldn’t last long.

            “Yeah, suck my big dick, you faggot. You love it don’t you?”

            “I came up for air, and replied, “Yes, master.”

            He grinned. I knew that my remark would stoke his ego. Sure enough after about 3 minutes, I felt his dick pulse, and he exploded 5 or 6 big squirts down my throat. I kept my mouth on his cock, and amazingly, it stayed just as hard as before. So I began all over again. This time it took longer, about 6 minutes.

             “I knew all along you would do it. When can I come back for more, pervert?” came his cocky remark.

            “I don’t think you should come back,” I answered, just to keep him guessing. Of course I loved every second of the action and wanted him again, but I wouldn’t let him know that.

            “Oh, why not?”

            “You’re too arrogant for me,” I explained.

            “Well, I’ll try to act better the next time,” he assured me.

            “We’ll see. It’s dinner hour. You’d better get back,” I admonished.

            I slept well that night thinking about my new toy. The next day was a busy one.

I had to start painting the boys’ dorm in the morning, and didn’t know whether I would finish that day, because the septic tank guy was coming in the afternoon. The reform school is out in the country, beyond the city sewer line. We use a giant-size septic tank, and it needs to be cleaned out once a year.

            About 2 p.m. a truck with a big tank arrived, to suck out all of the accumulated sludge and waste. I let the guy in the front gate, and directed him to the location.  Out stepped a gorgeous, muscular guy in his late 20s. My tongue got hard immediately. I introduced myself.

            “Hi, my name is Edgar, I’m the janitor, handyman, gardener, and who knows what else around here.”

            “Pleased to meet you Edgar. My name is Frank.”

             When I explained the size of our tank, the driver told me it would take an hour or so. Instead of going back to my paint task,  I decided to hang out and chit-chat with him and enjoy the scenery. That way I could calculate what my chances might be to get into his pants.

             I admired his tight-fitting t-shirt, revealing strong arms and great pecs. He didn’t seem to object to my presence.  He explained that his father had recently passed away, and he had quit his job as a truck driver to take over his dad’s business. He said that he was 29, married, with one kid, and another on the way. He mentioned that he worked out  at a health club.

            When he finished, I went to the headmaster’s office to get a check. When I returned, he made a strange request.

            “Is there a place where I can take a shower here? My next call is in a mansion down the road and I don’t want to arrive there smelling like shit. I’ve brought a fresh change of clothes.”

            I thought, “Oh, God, what a golden opportunity.” I said, “Well, I live here on the grounds. You can take a shower in my bathroom.”

            “Done deal,” he replied, as he got a duffle bag out of his truck. Once home, I showed him the bathroom, and told him to help himself.

            “You may not need to change clothes. I have a great cologne that I can spray on your clothes and leave them on my sofa to dry. ” He accepted the idea, went into the bathroom, and shortly returned, just wrapped in a towel, with his clothes in hand.

            I sat on pins and needles for ten minutes, until he emerged. He said, “Boy, that was relaxing. Now if I could just get rid of my sore leg muscles from working out, I’d feel even better.”

            Seizing the moment, I stated, “Hey, they say I give a mean massage. If you want, I can offer you one.”

            “Accepted,” he confirmed. “My next appointment is not for another hour. We have a professional masseur at the club, but he charges an arm and a leg.”

            “Well, mine is free of charge, and satisfaction guaranteed. Let’s go to my bedroom.”

            “I’ll start with your back. Keep your towel covering your private parts if you wish.” I began my session. I don’t just rub my hands over a body and call that a massage, I knead the muscles, exert pressure with my finger tips, and use the sides of my hands to

give light to heavy taps, depending on the area.

            When I began, he commented, “Hey, you’re a professional. This is great.”

            After about 12 minutes working his back, arms, and legs, I told him, “You can turn over now.”

            “I don’t think I can do that,” he replied.

            “Why not, don’t you want me to finish?” I queried.

            “Well, I’m embarrassed. Somehow I got stimulated and got a hard on.”

            “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens often. I’ve seen another guy with a stiff prick before.” With that he turned over, revealing a nice tent in his crotch.

            I loved his great washboard stomach and pecs, which stimulated me to do an even better job. When I got to his crotch area, I caressed nearby, but kept my distance from his treasure.

             “I said, “It’s difficult to do my job through a towel. I’m sure you have nothing to be ashamed of.” He kinda  smiled and removed the towel. I knew I was going to get a nice reward for my efforts. He had a beautiful, average-size dick, but enough to satisfy me. I could feel my throat muscles get hard. I got closer and closer to my target, finally wrapping my hand around his tool.

            He said loudly, “No, don’t do that.” Too late, my mouth was practically at dick level, so I just swallowed it whole.”

            “Wow!” was all he could say as he let me have my way. “I really needed this, but didn’t know I’d let a man do it.”

            “Well, It’s not so bad, is it?

            “Not so bad, it’s out of this world. You are a professional at this too.” With that  he laid back to enjoy. My gum jobs always work wonders on a hard dick. He probably hadn’t come in a coon’s age, so it was just a few minutes before I got a generous load.

He thanked me, got up to dress, decided that his perfumed clothes were OK, so he didn’t put on clean ones. I gave him my phone number and told him I would provide my services to him whenever he wanted, but preferably after work hours. He said he’d think about it.

            The next morning I finished painting the boys’ dorm, including the john, where I erased the ad on the stall wall that said I was a terrific cocksucker. Then during the staff and students’ lunch break, I painted the classrooms. I hurried home to have a fast lunch, then on to some lawn work, which I finished by 3 p.m.

            About 4 p.m., as I was sipping some Irish whiskey, I saw the headmaster, Benjamin, approaching. “What’s he want, he never comes here,” I pondered.

            He greeted me warmly, “Hi Edgar, what’s up?”

            “Hey, Benjamin, nothing at the moment,” wishing I did have something “up” that I could work over.

            “I have some good news. Last night we had a board meeting, and you were voted a modest raise. That’s because I told them that you are valuable here, and even the boys like you.”

            “Thanks, Benjamin. Every penny counts.” I wondered what he may have heard to make that remark about the boys liking me.

            “Wanna join me in a whiskey?” I asked.

            “Don’t mind if I do. On the rocks is OK.” I fixed him a double, and took out my other chair.

            “Cheers,” he toasted. “It’s good to get away from the grind and just relax occasionally. By the way, my wife’s pregnant, and that’s a bit stressful.”

            “Congratulations. Is it the first?”

            “No, we have a three year old boy.”

            Finishing his drink, he apologized, “Sorry, I gotta go. Feel free to stop by my office any time to chat.”

            “Thanks, I’ll probably take you up on that,” I replied. I thought this a bit odd, and wondered what he had up his sleeve, or maybe he had something up in his pants and needed relief.

            Just short of the dinner hour, Henry showed up. He hadn’t visited me for several days. I gave his big prick a quick tongue bathing, and he went on his way. Thus ended another interesting day.

Denouement

            And so it went. To wrap up, I’ll summarize out things ended up. Reginald, the bully, became more and more insulting to everyone, including his teacher and fellow “inmates.” Occasionally, small items like chalk and erasers from the blackboard would mysteriously disappear.  Also someone put chewing gum in the locks on several lockers where the boys store their clothes and personal belongings. Somehow suspicion fell on Reginald. Headmaster Benjamin told Reginald’s parents that they would have to remove him from the school. He  never come back to visit me again after our one and only episode . His most likely motive in coming in the first place to find out if I was gay.

            Phillip and Henry continued to visit me at once a week. Word got around that Phillip was ogling some of the other boys, which confirmed my suspicion that he might be gay. Frank, the septic tank guy, did phone me, but asked if he could come visit me on a Saturday. Since the boys went home to spend weekends with their parents, and things were quieter, I thought that a good idea. Besides, I didn’t have to work on Saturdays. He became a regular Saturday event.

            Benjamin finally revealed in a not-so-oblique way what he had in mind. I took him up on his offer to visit him in his office late one afternoon. Hardly waiting to get the greeting formalities out of the way, he came right out and told me how hard-up for sex because of his wife’s pregnancy.

            He said, “You know, we men need our regular sex one way or the other. I don’t want to cheat on my wife, so I have to use my hand.”         Then he got very personal, and asked, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

            “Not at the moment,” I replied.

            “So what do you do for sex?” I was sure that he had heard gossip somehow, or was just naturally curious.

            I resented the question, but kept my cool. “Well, to be honest, I don’t discuss my private life, especially with my boss.” The truth is, he just wasn’t my type. He wasn’t ugly, and had a good body, but somehow didn’t interest me sexually. Otherwise......

            He frowned, and probably decided that he wasn’t going to get his wish for me to suck his cock.

            “Excuse me, I’ve got to wrap up some details before I go home,” he advised. “See you around.”

            “No problem,” I replied, “I want to get back and clean up some details myself.”

            Benjamin never broched the sex subject again, which relieved me.

THE END