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When the bell rings, the students come out from the top, shouting. Someone sends a general greeting, to me and the rest of the class. It's the last hour, free at last! It's the start of a spring weekend.
While I'm putting in my bag some photocopies I used during class and left on the desk, I notice a presence. Paolo is there, standing, waiting. "Prof, can I talk to you?"
"Sure," I say, as I close the bag.
"I'd like to know if you think I'll be admitted to the exams this year."
He's worried. He's looking at his feet and a bit of an unidentified spot on the side of the board.
"I can't answer you now, it's not my decision."
"But you, what do you think?"
"I think you'll make it. Is your situation that bad?"
"I'm afraid so," she says of him, lowering her voice even more. It's strange to hear him say that, because he's a very determined and confident guy.
"How many subjects do you have insufficient?"
"Other than his own? Math and English. But I can manage, I'm trying so hard."
"Good! Then you'll make it up to him."
"I'll never make up his class. Never. Too many things. It's my fault, I could have studied more and put myself first."
I don't know what to say. He's the one who got himself into this situation, but on the other hand he's also analyzing the situation in a lucid way. He catches my hesitation.
"So I was wondering... is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
"Yes, of course, let's set up a question, whenever you want."
He's approaching the desk. The tone of voice has changed, more confident and determined. Eyes no longer wander the room, but stare at me. I didn't make myself clear. I was wondering, could I come to your house and spend some time with you? Maybe it would help me... no?"
The proposal is explicit. I make no secret of my homosexuality at school. I think everyone knows that. What Paolo is proposing is against professional ethics. But the fact is, Paolo is the typical guy I wanted to fuck when I was in high school... it's my weakness. And he knows that.
"This afternoon?" I ask, lowering the tone.
He smiles.
He picks up his backpack off the ground, puts his shoulder strap in and heads for the exit. "Tomorrow morning. At ten o'clock I'll be at his house. I know the address." He winks at me. "Get yourself some condoms."
Ten.
Ten and five.
Ten and ten.
He's not coming. He just made fun of me. In my head, so many thoughts: maybe he recorded our conversation, and now he wants to blackmail me...
At 10:12, the doorbell rings. I pick up the intercom and I see him: in the street, quietly, he looks around as if nothing had happened. When he hears the click of the door opening, he disappears from my sight.
I open the door and leave it ajar.
After a while, Paolo enters.
He's a handsome boy; not very tall, dark, small dark eyes. His strong point is not his face, but his body. He has a well-groomed and dry physique, as you can tell from under his clothes; I know for a fact that he kills himself with sport. He wears a light-coloured jersey and a jeans jacket, which I wear to anyone else would be lame, but he's fine with it.
He smiles at me on the way in.
"So," he says.
"So," I say, "have a seat."
He sits in a chair and looks at me. "Don't you prefer the couch?" I ask him.
"No, no. It's fine here."
We look at each other. The embarrassment on my part is very high. I've never done anything like this.
"Look, prof," he says at the end, "I'm available for you. It's a trade... if you like."
I swallow. "So you're gay?"
He smiles and looks away. "Honestly, no. But I have a good relationship with my body. If you feel like it..."
"Can we do anything?"
"Well, almost everything. Let's say I don't take it..."
"Okay.
Maybe because he sees me still hesitating, he stands up and comes towards me. I feel stiff and awkward like I've never been before. "May I?" he asks me, when he's inches away from my face. He doesn't wait for my permission and kisses me. First he just rests his lips, and we're almost still. Then he squeezes his mouth shut and I let go... I can smell a cigarette in my mouth. He's a smoker, I know, and he must have smoked one before he came here.
"You can touch me... if you wish." And he kicks off his shoes. He's a little shorter than me, so I have to bend my neck a little to look him in the eye. He's wearing his hands down and he's trying to take his shirt off, but I'm blocking him. I won't be able to fuck him as an active, but I want to at least take matters into my own hands. "For the first part, if you don't mind, I'll lead the game," I say. He smiles and nods.
Holding him by the wrists I take him to the room and there, while he's standing, I kiss him again, this time with greater intensity. He lets himself go and opens his mouth, again I feel the smell of a cigarette making its way into my palate. Finally, I put my hands on his body, through my clothes I feel my muscles tense. He has a hard, compact butt and lets me do it while I touch him. I climb up with my hands along his back, and in my path I take off his shirt. Again he accepts what he's doing. I take him away from me to see him: pecs a little bit protruding, small dark nipples, abdominals in plain sight (a great physique, there's nothing to say); the hair goes around the nipples and then it finds itself along the abdomen.
We don't talk anymore. I gently push him towards the bed, he lets go and falls backwards; I take off his pants and socks, so he stays with the black panties. With one hand I grab his package, look for the shape through the fabric and feel that the penis is not yet hard. I stare at it with a questioning look.
"It's not the ideal situation for me," he says, always with his mischievous smile printed, "I hope he doesn't take offense."
"But can you...?"
"I've never failed. Don't worry."
Up to this moment, I've stayed dressed, so I'll undress. He follows my movements with his eyes, then he takes off his panties too; it looks like a cock not huge but straight, with a nice chapel, which is hardening. The dicks are big and full.
I'm so excited, I lie down on him and we start kissing and touching. As he promised, he has no inhibitions, he keeps kissing me and letting himself be touched everywhere, even in the hole. I enjoy this sexting and toned body, his muscles tense and swollen: I haven't fucked such a handsome guy in a long, long time.
As soon as a break comes, while we're both doing it again, he whispers to me: "If you want, we can get a condom."
If I want to? Of course you do. I stretch out on the nightstand where I made them. I open one; he gets down on his knees in front of me, his cock hard and soaring, as he promised. I put it in, smiling; then I lie down and open my legs. He's there, in front of me. I say to him, "Have you ever fucked a man?"
"Only my girlfriend."
"So you know you have to be quiet."
"Don't worry about it."
Put the tip down, slowly, and look at me; as I don't complain, it starts to slip inside me, and then fuck me. He's a bit crude, but he's good at it; the cock goes in and out and makes me enjoy it. He stopped kissing me, concentrated as he is in penetration; he holds himself on his arms and I can see his abdomen stretching, while his pelvis tilts and his cock penetrates me. I raise my legs to enjoy more, I let myself go.
With a guttural and sudden verse, he comes. I feel the last push and I see the contraction of his pupils.
Then he comes out, and takes off his condom. He looks at me, naked, in the middle of the room.
That's it.
We get dressed and go back in there. I offer him a glass of water, which he refuses, and I thank him. He asks me if the deficiency is recovered, and I say yes.
On the door he says, "See you Monday, then."
"See you Monday."
He moves a few steps, then stops and turns around. "Thomas is also willing to make up for his deficiencies." And he disappears at the sight of me, behind the stairwell.
.
While I'm putting in my bag some photocopies I used during class and left on the desk, I notice a presence. Paolo is there, standing, waiting. "Prof, can I talk to you?"
"Sure," I say, as I close the bag.
"I'd like to know if you think I'll be admitted to the exams this year."
He's worried. He's looking at his feet and a bit of an unidentified spot on the side of the board.
"I can't answer you now, it's not my decision."
"But you, what do you think?"
"I think you'll make it. Is your situation that bad?"
"I'm afraid so," she says of him, lowering her voice even more. It's strange to hear him say that, because he's a very determined and confident guy.
"How many subjects do you have insufficient?"
"Other than his own? Math and English. But I can manage, I'm trying so hard."
"Good! Then you'll make it up to him."
"I'll never make up his class. Never. Too many things. It's my fault, I could have studied more and put myself first."
I don't know what to say. He's the one who got himself into this situation, but on the other hand he's also analyzing the situation in a lucid way. He catches my hesitation.
"So I was wondering... is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
"Yes, of course, let's set up a question, whenever you want."
He's approaching the desk. The tone of voice has changed, more confident and determined. Eyes no longer wander the room, but stare at me. I didn't make myself clear. I was wondering, could I come to your house and spend some time with you? Maybe it would help me... no?"
The proposal is explicit. I make no secret of my homosexuality at school. I think everyone knows that. What Paolo is proposing is against professional ethics. But the fact is, Paolo is the typical guy I wanted to fuck when I was in high school... it's my weakness. And he knows that.
"This afternoon?" I ask, lowering the tone.
He smiles.
He picks up his backpack off the ground, puts his shoulder strap in and heads for the exit. "Tomorrow morning. At ten o'clock I'll be at his house. I know the address." He winks at me. "Get yourself some condoms."
Ten.
Ten and five.
Ten and ten.
He's not coming. He just made fun of me. In my head, so many thoughts: maybe he recorded our conversation, and now he wants to blackmail me...
At 10:12, the doorbell rings. I pick up the intercom and I see him: in the street, quietly, he looks around as if nothing had happened. When he hears the click of the door opening, he disappears from my sight.
I open the door and leave it ajar.
After a while, Paolo enters.
He's a handsome boy; not very tall, dark, small dark eyes. His strong point is not his face, but his body. He has a well-groomed and dry physique, as you can tell from under his clothes; I know for a fact that he kills himself with sport. He wears a light-coloured jersey and a jeans jacket, which I wear to anyone else would be lame, but he's fine with it.
He smiles at me on the way in.
"So," he says.
"So," I say, "have a seat."
He sits in a chair and looks at me. "Don't you prefer the couch?" I ask him.
"No, no. It's fine here."
We look at each other. The embarrassment on my part is very high. I've never done anything like this.
"Look, prof," he says at the end, "I'm available for you. It's a trade... if you like."
I swallow. "So you're gay?"
He smiles and looks away. "Honestly, no. But I have a good relationship with my body. If you feel like it..."
"Can we do anything?"
"Well, almost everything. Let's say I don't take it..."
"Okay.
Maybe because he sees me still hesitating, he stands up and comes towards me. I feel stiff and awkward like I've never been before. "May I?" he asks me, when he's inches away from my face. He doesn't wait for my permission and kisses me. First he just rests his lips, and we're almost still. Then he squeezes his mouth shut and I let go... I can smell a cigarette in my mouth. He's a smoker, I know, and he must have smoked one before he came here.
"You can touch me... if you wish." And he kicks off his shoes. He's a little shorter than me, so I have to bend my neck a little to look him in the eye. He's wearing his hands down and he's trying to take his shirt off, but I'm blocking him. I won't be able to fuck him as an active, but I want to at least take matters into my own hands. "For the first part, if you don't mind, I'll lead the game," I say. He smiles and nods.
Holding him by the wrists I take him to the room and there, while he's standing, I kiss him again, this time with greater intensity. He lets himself go and opens his mouth, again I feel the smell of a cigarette making its way into my palate. Finally, I put my hands on his body, through my clothes I feel my muscles tense. He has a hard, compact butt and lets me do it while I touch him. I climb up with my hands along his back, and in my path I take off his shirt. Again he accepts what he's doing. I take him away from me to see him: pecs a little bit protruding, small dark nipples, abdominals in plain sight (a great physique, there's nothing to say); the hair goes around the nipples and then it finds itself along the abdomen.
We don't talk anymore. I gently push him towards the bed, he lets go and falls backwards; I take off his pants and socks, so he stays with the black panties. With one hand I grab his package, look for the shape through the fabric and feel that the penis is not yet hard. I stare at it with a questioning look.
"It's not the ideal situation for me," he says, always with his mischievous smile printed, "I hope he doesn't take offense."
"But can you...?"
"I've never failed. Don't worry."
Up to this moment, I've stayed dressed, so I'll undress. He follows my movements with his eyes, then he takes off his panties too; it looks like a cock not huge but straight, with a nice chapel, which is hardening. The dicks are big and full.
I'm so excited, I lie down on him and we start kissing and touching. As he promised, he has no inhibitions, he keeps kissing me and letting himself be touched everywhere, even in the hole. I enjoy this sexting and toned body, his muscles tense and swollen: I haven't fucked such a handsome guy in a long, long time.
As soon as a break comes, while we're both doing it again, he whispers to me: "If you want, we can get a condom."
If I want to? Of course you do. I stretch out on the nightstand where I made them. I open one; he gets down on his knees in front of me, his cock hard and soaring, as he promised. I put it in, smiling; then I lie down and open my legs. He's there, in front of me. I say to him, "Have you ever fucked a man?"
"Only my girlfriend."
"So you know you have to be quiet."
"Don't worry about it."
Put the tip down, slowly, and look at me; as I don't complain, it starts to slip inside me, and then fuck me. He's a bit crude, but he's good at it; the cock goes in and out and makes me enjoy it. He stopped kissing me, concentrated as he is in penetration; he holds himself on his arms and I can see his abdomen stretching, while his pelvis tilts and his cock penetrates me. I raise my legs to enjoy more, I let myself go.
With a guttural and sudden verse, he comes. I feel the last push and I see the contraction of his pupils.
Then he comes out, and takes off his condom. He looks at me, naked, in the middle of the room.
That's it.
We get dressed and go back in there. I offer him a glass of water, which he refuses, and I thank him. He asks me if the deficiency is recovered, and I say yes.
On the door he says, "See you Monday, then."
"See you Monday."
He moves a few steps, then stops and turns around. "Thomas is also willing to make up for his deficiencies." And he disappears at the sight of me, behind the stairwell.
.
