More Toy Boy Fun 2
It was becoming a habit, fucking John in a hallway. If it was a prelude to the fun we’d had at our last encounter, I was in for a debauched…
It was becoming a habit, fucking John in a hallway. If it was a prelude to the fun we’d had at our last encounter, I was in for a debauched afternoon.
His embarrassment after the fuck was now nonexistent. No longer was he a hesitant young man, but fast becoming a confident lover. In some ways, I found that a disappointment. I’d so loved leading him into my world, but in other ways, the benefits to me — the reward of a good screw - were far greater. And besides, I still had a long way to take him. He was nowhere near the depths of depravity I yearned for him.
My mind went back to our last meeting and two questions that I said I’d leave unresolved until I met him again. Today I intended to get an answer to both.
But first to business. “So what’s this problem you have with your assignment?” I asked.
“It’s easier if I show you the wording. Perhaps you can explain it in a different way.”
He gathered up the papers that had spilt everywhere and we took them into the lounge. He rummaged through them, eventually found what he was looking for, and showed me.
I read it. Re-read it and looked at John. “I see your problem.”
It had struck me when I was at university that some tutors really needed to get out more. They were so enveloped in their subject at the academic level that they lost sight of what the end use of the knowledge might be. In our field explaining weird concepts to members of the public with no technical knowledge was an everyday necessity. This tutor wouldn’t last five minutes at the sharp end.
I explained to John what I thought the tutor was getting at and gave him a pointer in what I hoped was the right direction. He asked a couple of sensible questions and said he now understood what was required.
I also explained what I required. He complied with my request! I won’t bore you with a detailed blow-by-blow account, but it was an extremely satisfying fuck.
We had progressed from the lounge to my bedroom and lay side by side. I judged now would be a good time to raise my questions.
“Do you remember when I was at your house we spoke about you telling your friends about me?”
“Yes,” he answered in a very defensive tone.
“And do you remember how hot you got when I suggested you imagined I was your mother?”
Another very defensive yes.
“Don’t ask where I’m going with this. Just answer my questions. Okay?”
I’d now definitely piqued his interest. He half turned to me, propping himself on his elbow.
“Okay.”
“Has your mother met many of your friends?”
“No, not a lot.”
“What do you think she thinks of them?”
“Okay, I suppose. She’s never commented much.”
“Are they presentable?”
“How’d you mean?”
“Well, are they clean? Hair brushed? Bit smelly?”
He laughed. “Shit. I might not be that social, but I don’t hang out with the dross.”
“Okay, imagine this as a fantasy and tell me what it does to you.
“You tell your best mate about me, invite him round to watch you fuck me.” John went to interrupt, but I stopped him. “Hear me out. “Your mother walks in on us and you think she’s going to go ballistic, but she grabs your mate and starts fucking him in front of you. What’s your reaction?”
I didn’t need to ask. His cock, which had been flaccid and resting against his thigh, twitched.
“Fuck. Yeah. That’d be cool. Never happen though.” In all honesty, I guessed he was right, but there were aspects of the scenario that appealed to me. Aspects? Lying slut! It all appealed. I hoped I’d sown the seed. I would leave it there until next time. A plan was forming to turn that into reality but perhaps wishful thinking on my part.
Now I wanted a drenching. On to my next question.
