by Dane Cooper
He had hoped that by taking a long, hot shower that he would somehow be able to shake off, or at the very least reduce, that dreadful feeling of shame that had overcome him that night, but as was to be expected — it did not. He still felt dirty and had only found that feeling getting worse and worse by the second.
There was no point in fretting over it now. It happened. It's done. Both he and his son were just going to have to accept that and move on, even if it had meant having to put up with one another on a daily basis for the remainder of the year.
The thing about it — he has played the scenario over and over again in his head, wanting to believe that had he been granted the change to go back and change things, he would have, but he knew very well that only thing he'd do differently is suggest taking it into the bedroom where there was
actually a lock on the door.
When Monday came around, Thomas Metzger, for the first time in months, could not wait to go back to work. Sure, he was going to have to spend eight hours dealing with a bunch of rowdy, inattentive teenagers and then another three-five hours planning, grading papers and possibly even attenting meetings, but it sure did beat sitting around the house, trying to pretend like nothing had happened.
He wasn't at all surprised when Zachary had chosen to take the bus to school that morning as opposed to riding with him like he would any other time. In a way, that had been a huge relief for Thomas, but in the end, he knew that he couldn't avoid his son forever.
The first class of the day was always a bitch. Most, if not all, of his students were usually in a lethargic state at that hour and the last thing any of them wanted to do that early in the morning was spend ninety minutes trying to speak in a language different from their own.
To his surprise, first period had actually gone rather well that morning. Everyone had done their homework, everyone was paying attention, and they had all managed to finish that day's lesson about twenty minutes early.
He was sure that this had something to do with how he had completely blown up on these kids the last time he had seen them after discovering that not one of them had done even remotely good on their test. This was a side of Thomas Metzger that neither of his students had seen before. Tom is generally a lively, although flaky, kind of guy. Many of the students, including those who weren't even in his class, were very fond of him. The last time that this group of kids had seen him though, he was yelling, crumpling up their incomplete assignments and practically throwing them at them
— scaring the living shit out of them. He had found himself screaming things at his students that even he had felt crossed the line and was honestly shocked when nobody had reported him. Perhaps this had been the reason for why he had given into Rodney's charm so easily that night. He just needed to get laid, relieve some tension.
The next three classes were also very cooperative that day; however, he had never really had much of a problem with them before. It was always just that first period.
The fourth and final class of the day was somewhat wilder than their predecessors, but they still managed to get what needed to be done done. By this point, Thomas had been in a much better mood. That was, however, until he had realized that it wasn't going to be much longer before it was time for him to go home.
Once the two o'clock bell rang, every single one of his students got up and rushed out the door, all eager to get as far away from school grounds as possible.
And then there was silence.
In spite of all the planning and paper work that needed to be done, this had always been Tom's favorite part of the day, especially on days when his students had driven him up the wall. Today, however, was going to be a different story. His students had unknowingly helped take his mind off of the problems he had been facing back at home. Now that they were gone, it was all beginning to come back to him.
About ten minutes and five graded essays later, he heard a knock on the door. He glanced up from the stack of papers before him, hoping to get a quick look at his visitor through the tiny window on the door, but up until now, he had completely forgotten about the giant poster he had put up the week before, covering up the entire top half of it, including the window.
Because the door had locked automatically when closed, he had almost always remembered to leave it cracked open for his son. Often, Zachary would stay behind and do his homework in the back of the classroom while his father was up front, busy with his own work.
Ignoring it, he had gone back to grading papers. If it had been just another member of the school's faculty, they could just use their keys to get in if they had really needed him, but the knocking just kept on — kept on until the German teacher had finally gotten up to see who it was.
"Hey, I was hoping that maybe I could ask you something about tomorrow's quiz?" Rodney Parker asked, smiling as though Friday had never happened.
Thomas just stood there in the doorway staring at the young man in disbelief. Words could not describe how he was feeling at that very moment.
"Mr. Metzger?"
Grabbing the teenager by the wrist, Thomas yanked him into the classroom and pinned him against the adjoining wall, closing the door beside them.
"Are you fucking stupid or something?" Thomas asked, practically growling the words. "What are you doing here?"
Rodney shook his arm free from the man's tight grip.
"So, I told my parents that Zach and I had a small disagreement which is why I wound up going back home that night," he said. "They don't know a thing."
"That's great," Thomas replied harshly. "You can go now."
The boy continued to speak, completely ignoring the man's order.
"I also told them that we were working it out, and that I would probably be coming home a bit late tonight."
Thomas frowned. He knew exactly where this was heading. "No."
"Come on, Mr. Metzger," Rodney begged.
"No," Thomas repeated. "Because of you, my son hasn't spoken to me in days."
"Because of me?" Rodney said, narrowing his eyes. "You wanted it just as much as I did." "If you hadn't seduced me, I—"
"I gave you two chances to pull away," Rodney reminded him, his tone getting slightly harsher now.
Thomas said nothing. He knew that Rodney was right, but that still didn't change the fact that he had wanted nothing to do with him at this point.
"Come on, daddy," Rodney said, biting his lip as he took a step closer. "We'll be more careful this time."
At that moment, the boy had leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Tom's neck. Tom just stood there awkwardly, soon feeling Rodney's soft lips on his. His heart was now racing at a hundred miles an hour. He thought to himself that this was the time to shove the boy away, but for some unknown reason, he just couldn't bring himself to do that. It was as though he were paralyzed from the neck down.
Rodney broke away from the kiss suddenly, turning his attention over to the large, wooden desk on the other side of the room and began to think about all of the times he had fantasized about having Zachary's father fuck him on top of it.
"Over there," Rodney said. "That way, you can keep an eye on the door. If we hear someone coming, I could just hide underneath the desk."
The young man started toward the desk but stopped once he realized that Tom hadn't moved from that spot. He reached back, taking his teacher by the hand and giving it a gentle tug. Before he knew it, he was following him over to the desk.
Once they got there, Rodney shoved Thomas back into his chair just before taking a seat on the floor below him.
"Alright, now let's get these shoes off," Rodney said eagerly as he casually pulled Thomas' feet into his lap.
Tom just sat there quietly, watching on with a perplexed expression as the first shoe had come off. He started thinking about what Rodney had said before, about how he had been just as responsible for what had happened by not taking both chances to pull away, wondering if that had still been an option.
The second shoe came off.
If someone were to catch them this time, then that was it for him. Having his son walk in on them at home was one thing, but he was risking a hell of a lot more by doing this at the school.
—And finally the socks came off...
Rodney lifted Tom's right foot up to his face, just inches away from his mouth when suddenly— "W-We shouldn't be doing this," Thomas stuttered, his attention fixed on the door facing him. "It's locked, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but anyone could get in here with a key."
Sighing heavily, the young boy pushed himself up from the floor and made his way back toward the door. Thomas flinched the moment that his soles had met the ice-cold tiles and had at that moment considered putting his shoes back on, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off Rodney.
There was another large desk just beside the entrance — the "make-up work" desk Tom called it. Upon that desk were folder and several stacks of papers. Students who were absent were expected to check that desk for any work that they might have missed to help keep their grades from dropping.
Rodney grabbed one end of the desk and began to pull it back, sliding it against the door. "Oh, that's not suspicious at all," the teacher quipped.
"Well, if someone tries to come in, you could just tell them that you're in the process of moving things around," the boy suggested, taking his place back at the man's feet.
Although he was still feeling rather paranoid about being caught a second time, Thomas had moved his feet back into Rodney's lap. He suddenly found himself enjoying the feeling of warm denim against his cold size 10's. If he could have his way, he'd just keep them there but knowing Rodney, that wasn't going to happen. What was with this kid and feet anyway?
Giving it another shot, he raised Tom's foot back up — this time managing to take a long, hard lick up his biggest digit before sucking it past his lips. In an instant, Thomas was reminded of how much he had enjoyed having a boy at his feet.
Rodey looked up, gazing into Tommy's small, blue eyes as he slid his long tonge in between his big toe and the one adjacent to it. Tom was still looking rather from where he was sitting, but it did seem as though he were finally beginning to come around.
He shifted his left foot over onto Rodney's crotch, feeling his hardness over his jeans. He pressed down on it lightly with his foot and began to move against it. The boy let out a soft moan into his toes, taking them into his mouth.
"That's a good boy," Thomas said just barely above a whisper, feeling Rodney's tongue drifting beneath the crevice of his toes.
The teenager moved his head, his tongue slithering along the sole of his teacher's foot. Just like
before, Rodney was determined to get to every inch of Tommy's beautiful bare feet.
Eventually, the young teacher had worked up the courage to bring his left foot up to Rodney's face, his other foot now resting steadily against his shoulder. Rodney moved forward, burying his nose beneath Tommy's toes, taking in his manly scent. Meanwhile, both of his hands had drifted down into his lap. Hearing the sound of the boy's zipper, Tom knew right away that they were soon going to be taking this a step further.
Tom pulled his feet back, allowing the student to squirm out of his jeans. Before long, the boy had been pushing them aside along with his briefs; Tom could only imagine how cold the floor must have felt against the boy's smooth bottom. Surprisingly, it didn't seem to bother Rodney one bit, for he had continued to strip down until he was wearing nothing but a pair of dirty white socks and a couple of wristbands.
This was all honestly making Tom feel nervous again. He was hoping that this time, they'd keep on most of their clothing, so it wouldn't take as long for them to get dressed if need be.
Shaking it off, Thomas stuck his foot back out toward the young boy's face. Rodney closed his eyes and began slowly stroking himself as he took another whiff. The man tilted his head, catching a glimpse of Rodney's erect member. Up until then, Tom had completely forgotten how huge Rodney's cock was and was just as surprised by it the second time.
Thomas placed his foot between the boy's legs, using his toes to lightly press down on his jewels. Rodney let out a hoarse groan; fortunately for the both of them, it wasn't loud enough to attract attention. The German teacher had then slowly drifted his foot down the side of Rodney's face, pressing his big toe firmly against his lips. The long-haired teenager had welcomed this gesture by taking it into his warm mouth, tenderly sucking on it.
Rodney released it moments later before taking several long, gradual licks up his foot, from his heel to his toes. Within a minute, the entire bottom of Tom's left foot was slick with Rodney's saliva.
At one point, Tom had spread his toes, allowing Rodney to lick in between them. Personally, he had this whole "foot thing" a bit weird, but he had to admit that he was really enjoying himself.
"Okay, I'm ready," Rodney muttered beneath his breath, quickly getting up onto his knees.
Tom leaned forward in his chair, sliding his feet beneath the boy. Immediately, Rodney had started vigorously masturbating above them. Before long, Rodney was shooting across the tops of Tommy's feet, glazing them with his milky-white seed. Once he had gotten it all out, he wasted no time
licking them clean. He had never gotten around to doing that the last time he came on Tom's feet due to his son, so he made sure to get it done this time.
He glanced back up at the man when he heard the sound of his zipper going down. A wide grin had formed upon his young, tanned face.
Rodney inched forward, pulling Thomas' black pants down to his ankles and grasped onto his hardening member. Without hesitation, he began to gradually slide his tongue up his shaft, flicking the tip of his tongue gently against his frenulum.
Tom threw his head back, slapping his hand across his own mouth. He was finding it rather difficult trying to keep his voice down. He reached down, clutching tightly onto the boy's long, flowing hair as he begab to bob his head rhythmically, feeling his lips wrapped around him.
Suddenly, Rodney stood up, remembering just how much he had wanted to be taken right there on top of that desk. Swiftly sliding his hand across the smooth desk top, he sent the stack of ungraded essays falling to the floor. Thomas sat there with a hardened expression as he watched the boy bent over the desk. He had figured that the blow job was going to be the end of it — apparently, it was not.
The teacher stood up from the chair and took his place directly behind the boy. He leaned over Rodney, surprising him with a deep, passionate kiss. He then pulled away for a moment, reaching down and scooping his socks up from the floor. Rodney was a bit confused when Tom had first handed them to him, but it didn't take long before he realized what they were for.
He chuckled softly.
"I'm not going to need these," he said, tossing Tom's sweaty black socks onto the pile of graded papers as Tom spat onto his fingers. He spread his legs apart, soon feeling the man's fingers brushing across his sensitive hole. He took a deep breath just before the first finger went in. Moments later, Tom had inserted the second finger. Rodney bit down into Tom's black socks, knowing that this was nothing compared to what he was going to be feeling, but he couldn't wait.
Tom eventually pulled his fingers back out and moved closer, beginning to tease his hole with the tip of his cock. Rodney moaned softly.
"Fuck me, daddy."
With that said, Thomas pushed his cock deep into Rodney's hole. Rodney bit down on his lip, trying his best not to make a sound as Tom thrusted against him. Once again, he was getting fucked by Zachary's dad, and if it goes right, hopefully it wouldn't be the last time.
Tom moved his hands onto the back of the boy's shoulders, pressing him down flat against the desk's surface as he pounded into him harder and harder.
After a short time, Tom came, filling Rodney up as he slowed to a halt. He soon pulled out, immediately tugging his pants back up.
"I knew you couldn't resist," Rodney said, grinning as he pushed himself up, his ribs feeling a bit sore from the hardwood surface.
Tom smirked, saying nothing as he sat back down in his chair. He reached past the teenager, grabbing his socks off the desk.
"You should probably start getting dressed," he said, beginning to put his socks back on. "And what if I don't?" the boy asked teasingly as he stuck his tongue out at him.
"If you don't," Tom said, looking up into Rodney's brown eyes, ", then I guess this will be the last time I do this with you."
At that very moment, a huge grin had formed upon the young man's face just before he had started gathering his clothes.
