Not a Story

This is not a story. At least, not like any of my other stories. This is more about how the mind works, how my imagination can run rampant, taking me to all kinds of places, good places mostly, escaping from the mundane world, in a way.

I’m proctoring. My college students are taking one of my tests. Eighteen of them, 12 girls and 6 boys. Talk about gender equality, huh?

I pace around, checking their work and their names when it suddenly occurs to me that some of the names don’t really fit the persons. My mind is triggered. What if I gave them names, ones that I thought would fit them better?

There’s a Joe—I’m not giving the real name—for example. He’s slender and tall, about 5’ 9”. Hair cut short. Light beard, trimmed. Attractive facial features. Just like a Joe. He’s wearing a hoodie and tight grayish faded jeans, the leg of which ripped open, exposing one knee, narrow legs ending an inch or so above his ankles, showing some hair. Sneakers.

What would Joe look like without clothes, I wonder? For one thing, in my mind I discover that his chest is smooth except for a light patch between the nipples, which are smallish and surrounded by a few curly hairs. His slender body is rippled. I take in a deep breath after exploring his naked chest with my fingers and undo his jeans, eager to see what’s inside them. He’s wearing tight boxers and I can see his bulge, longish dick outlined over the balls.

I pull down the boxers, red with a white band, revealing a thick patch of pubic hair, and as I have expected, a long limp dick, uncut, around 5 inches or so. I grab it, pulling back the skin. It starts to erect, the pink head glistening. I hear Joe moan as he gets hard. His cock gets thicker and longer with each stroke. Can it be over 8 inches already? Joe is fucking hung.

I see myself leaning and flicking at the slit, taking my first taste of this hot kid. But Joe grabs my hair and pushes my head in. “Suck this cock, prof,” he grunts. I know that Joe usually is quite participating in class. He now turns even more vociferous with urgings: “Yeah, take my big dick,” and “Suck this fucker,” which all turns me on even more than I am turned on by seeing him naked and hard. I swallow halfway down the throbbing shaft, bobbing up and down as he keeps goading me, my hand fisting the lower half of his long dick and stroking it in rhythm with my sucking. The ministrations of both my stroking hand and my slobbering mouth quickly bring him over the edge and he grunts as he spills his semen down my throat.

I pull out licking my lips waiting for Joe to compliment my cock-sucking him. Instead, he glares down at me, pulls up his undies and jeans, tucks his dick in, flicks his hand through his hair and walks away.

That is Joe, typical cocky college boy with a big dick and he knows it.

I smile inwardly and scan the test room again. The kid in the back is a hulk. Maybe 6 feet tall, heavily built, a beard, longish curly hair. He could be a Ralph, I think.

I prefer slim boys though, but it wouldn’t hurt to imagine, would it? After all, proctoring is such a boring chore.

What is Ralph like naked? Probably flabby and smooth. In spite of all his hulkiness, his face is baby-like. Full red lips, rounded face cheeks. I undress him.

Ralph towers above my 5’ 6”, his dick hanging low, not too long, but promisingly fat. He does have thick pubes, which I like a lot. I fist the limp cock and it starts to harden, his sweatpants and tighty-whities around his ankles. Ralph barely emits a sound as he erects in my hand. Suddenly I feel slime. The kid is leaking. Profusely. My hand can barely encircle his cock girth: it is so fat.

I bend over and take Ralph’s fat dick into my mouth, fully stretching my jaws as wide as the can get. He pushes in once and just explodes, not giving me a chance to suck on his dick. Quickly, he pulls out, dresses and exits the room almost falling over himself. I snicker, licking my lips.

What’s with those kids today? A touch on their dick and they nut. Amazing.

And of course, the smile returns when I spot Mitch. He is a jock. Man on campus type. Athletically built, blond, light beard, sweats and sneakers. He looks so straight that my heart goes out to him for what he’s missing from guys servicing him. He must be very popular with girls. I have often noticed the girls in class goggling him and I really felt like slapping their faces.

So Mitch must be either smooth in the chest or totally shaved. His nipples are pink and round and stand out deliciously, grapes ready to be plucked. My teeth encircle them, tongue flicking as he arches his back and moans. I grab his crotch and feel his dick inside his sweats. He is trying to pull back, but my mouth on his nipples quickly makes him change his mind and he thrusts into my groping hand.

Encouraged, I slide my hand inside his sweats, never letting go of his nipples. I don’t dare to venture into kissing him. This might gross him out, but my grabbing his dick inside his sweats makes him moan. I stroke his cock and suck on his nipples, rewarded my a thick throbbing hardness, eager to be serviced.

Again on my knees, pulling down the sweats, I study the hard cock in my hand. Cut. Bulbous knob. Thick shaft. Somewhere around 7 inches. I lean in without hesitation and gulp into this throbbing dick. Mitch raises his arms and places his hands behind his head. I notice that his armpits are shave as well. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if to tell himself that it’s not a man working on his cock. After all, he’s straight. But getting head is not gay, is it?

I take him all the way to the base, noticing how his shaved balls bob up and down. I grab them and work in and out of his shaft, keeping the head inside my mouth all the time for fear of losing him. His hesitation makes him more erotic for me. This hunk of a boy is so delicious. I know that what I’m giving him surpasses any head from a chick. I’m a pro cocksucker and my pleasure exceeds that of the guy I’m sucking.

I venture my hand under his balls and knead his scrotum. I feel his cock getting even thicker in my mouth. I hum and vibrate my throat against the round knob. I can hear him making all sorts of sounds, still not touching me. Tentatively, I reach up, grab one of his hands and place it on my head. He takes the cue, brings his other hand down and grabs my head. What follows is the hottest skull fucking I have ever had. Mitch goes at it with full force, his abs rippling, his thigh muscles taut, his head thrown back. When he explodes down my throat, all he utters is “Oh FUCK!” and I get his straight boy load. In full. Every drop.

Smacking my lips I retreat before Mitch realizes what has just happened and floors me with a punch in the mouth.

Three down! My proctoring isn’t as boring as I have thought it would be, thanks to my vivid imagination.

My eyes move around. Ah, there is what should be a Phil. Not Phillip: Phil. Small in stature but quite fit. What is striking about Phil is his piercings. The ears, the nose, the lower lip. I bet he has other piercings in his nether parts. My body tingles. I notice his hands and lower arms out of his leather jacket as he writes: heavily tattooed. Phil is a punk kid, it seems. Very interesting. A pierced, tattooed, street kid.

He glares at me and nods. What? Has he noticed my examining him? I should see him naked, shouldn’t I? I start a whispering conversation with him.

“Heavily pierced, I see,” I start.

He gazes at me with intense black eyes. His hair is shaggy and thick and his beard is black and longer than any other beard in the class. Is he hairy down there, too? I had to find out.

“So?” he stares at me.

“Just wondering. If there are any other piercings or tattoos?” I suggest, lewdly.

He immediately takes the hint. “Wanna see for yourself, prof?” he smirks.

Of course I want to see. My whole body is electrified by the gruffness of this kid, not like a college boy at all. Even his clothes are punk clothes, all leather. I nod.

Phil stands up and unzips his leather pants. God, the kid is freeballing. No undies. He reveals his upper hip to show a shark tattoo, the head of the fish touching the start of his pubes.

“Like?” he says, keeping his dick hidden, just the pubes. Being cheeky.

I nod again. “No piercings?” I goad for more skin.

Phil laughs out loud. “Prof, you’re really curious, dude.”

He pulls the jeans down to his knees. “Here’s what you want to see,” he adds pulling out his nuts from under his penis, showing me a ring pierced into his left balls.

“Wow,” I mutter, more interested in the cock.

Without hesitation, I kneel in front of him and gobble the limp member all the way to the base, taking in his pubic aroma. He erects inside my mouth, his hand clutching my hair. I keep my lips pressed around the base as the cock hardens and elongates inside my mouth until it is hitting my throat. I gag and try to pull back, but Phil’s hand is pushing on the back of my head, not letting me breathe. I choke and cough, and I hear the bitch kid snicker.

Finally, Phil pulls out his hard dick, quite impressive, not as long as Joe’s or as thick as Ralph’s. Estimate: around 6.5-7 inches, cut. Phil stands inches away from me, his dick pointing upwards and dripping spit on the floor. It plasters on his belly and throbs. I have to reach and pry it down to take it back into my mouth.

Ralph grabs me by the hair again and fists his cock, rubbing it all over my face.

“You fucking slimed my dick. I’m going to slime to fucking faggot’s face.” Very poetic, there.

He slaps my face cheeks with his hard cock. It smarts and stings, but I glorify at the maleness of it, controlling me. Phil’s other hand, the fingers tattooed with L-U-S-T, grabs my chin as he forces his cock inside my mouth. I moan and let him fuck my face, which he does, grunting and pounding into my throat. I’m drooling like crazy. Even snotting as well. Ralph is a rough kid.

I expect him to cum fast like the other boys. But he’s taking his time. His face-fucking is spotted with pulling out, slapping my face, and then thrusting in, deep and insistent.

Suddenly, Phil grabs my face with both hands lifting me up. He is quite strong for such a small boy. He plants a rough kiss on my mouth, pushing his tongue between my lips and grabbing my butt. He is turning me around and pushing my back down over the desk. I feel him fumbling for my pants, undoing the belt as he spoons my butt, roughly pulling them down exposing my ass. The kid wants to fuck.

Without any preparation, Phil thrusts into my hole. Rough and deep. Full force. I can’t believe this kid has such power. His cock buries inside me and he starts to fuck in earnest. I will myself not to give him the satisfaction of screaming, which I am sure he was expecting, the way he plunged  into me, impaling me. Again, I am expecting him to unload fast. I must look pathetic with the way I am bent over a desk with a boy’s cock ravaging my ass.

Like he has done when I gave him head, Phil pulls out of my ass, slaps my butt with his dick, and then thrusts back into my tunnel. Grinds. Pulls out. Buries back. Repeats. Butt slapping. Hair pulling. Nipples tweaked angrily. I am in pain, but it is also ecstasy. As he pounds me, I pull his hand and suck on his fingers. His reaction is immediately to push his middle finger down into my throat, gagging me. I bite down on it and he gives out a low scream. Turning my face around, he slaps me hard.

“Fucking faggot bitch,” he mutters and spits onto my face, his pounding cock not missing a beat. On and on, like it is going forever. When will this kid cum? Or does he ever cum?

It has to be more than ten minutes of ass pounding before I feel his rhythm go faster; his cock pulsates harder. When Phil explodes, he is bending over me biting hard on the side of my neck. This is going to leave a fucking mark, let alone the sore ass and the aching jaws. Is the kid marking me as his territory?

“You’re mine, bitch,” Phil hisses into my ear, and empties his load inside my guts. When he pulls out, he slaps my butt again with his dick and laughs. “Fucking faggot.” This seems like his favorite justification of denying that he is as much a faggot as I am.

Smacking my lips, I resume my scan. Patrick and Jonathan are sitting behind each other. These two boys seem inseparable, always coming in together, always working on their assignments together. They don’t seem to be a couple though, but it is still a possibility the way they’re stuck to each other this way. My heart races at being sandwiched by these two boys.

Patrick is taller, slimmer and darker than Jonathan is. Both are delicious enough to eat. I saunter towards them, not satiated by the four young cocks that I have just experienced. Patrick looks up and raises his hand. I lean over his shoulder, pretending to look at his test paper. He whispers a question, the meaning of a word. I lightly press my crotch at his shoulder, and I whisper back the meaning although I don’t usually do that, telling them that I wasn’t a dictionary.

In response, Patrick looks up at me and presses his shoulder back at my crotch. Fuck! Yes, I think. I point to a place on his paper, any place, nothing in particular, and he looks down as I snake my hand, dropping it to grab his crotch, pressing harder on his shoulder. He immediately clutches my groping hand and presses it tighter his crotch. As I rub the young jewels with gusto, grinding on his shoulder, I feel a hand fumbling at my butt. It looks like Jonathan has noticed and wants in on the action. Do I mind?

I feel Patrick’s dick erect inside his jeans and I rub as I shiver at the massaging of my butt from behind me. Turning my head around and back towards Jonathan, I wink at him and he smirks back, pinching my butt cheek and pressing his fingers into my crack.

Slowly, I unbutton Patrick’s jeans fishing his dick out. He’s hard. Uncut and pencil thin. I pull down on the skin and his pink head is already leaking. Meanwhile, as I am busy working Patrick’s boy dick with my hand, Jonathan stands up behind me and spoons me grinding on my butt, his arms around my waist. I can feel Jonathan’s erection pressed onto my butt. Bending over Patrick to get my mouth on his juicy boy dick, I feel Jonathan undoing my pants and pulling them down.

A thick and throbbing rod slips between my thighs into my crack. I go down on Patrick, my hole twitching like crazy as I feel a wet knob prodding at it. I’m held tight by Jonathan, and I know he’s trying to penetrate. The wetness is sliming my hairy crack and greasing my hole. Jonathan is either using spit or is leaking, or is both. My bending over to suck on Patrick’s cock gives Jonathan the perfect position to fuck. Grunting, he pushes in, maintaining his bear hug, his arms tight around my waist. He cock plunges into my hole like a knife into soft butter. I try my best to stretch and relax for him, my groans muffled by Patrick’s long dick inside my throat.

Bobbing on the boy cock in my mouth, I move my butt in rhythm with Jonathan’s thrusts, meeting him half way. The three of us are grunting and moaning. In no time, two hot young sperm loads empty into my body.

With a sigh, I pull away, Patrick’s dick popping out of my mouth, dripping cum and spit, Jonathan’s fat cock slipping out of my butt tunnel, smearing the residue all over my hairy butt cheeks.

I check the time. “Ok, kids,” I announce. “Time’s over.” I can’t wait to get to my office and jerk off what has been building inside me and I know the size of the load I am going to shoot out. After all, my insides are flooded with boy jizz, so much so that I feel my balls hanging full and heavy ready to deliver what should be a volcanic eruption.

If only my imagination wasn’t so vivid. Damn!

It looks like this is a story after all!