The Seduction of Mr Fitzpatrick (closed for Shelbakk)

TOMAS RANDAZZO

Nationality: Argentine
Age: 18 years
Height: 6 feet
Weight: 163 pounds
Star sign: Leo/Virgo cusp
Portrait: http://www.cybersocket.com/images/18-03/belami/peter.jpg

Tomas looked around the train station as he waited for his luggage. Unlike the noisy crowded stations in Buenos Aires where he was from, here in Ohio there were few passengers and little activity. Maybe it's different in a big American city, he thought.

He patted the top left pocket of his tight dress shirt. Four condoms and the crackle of an empty packet. Tomas smiled thinking about the guy he'd fucked last night on the train from New York. A college student a year or two older than Tomas, making his way west after the summer vacation to resume his studies. Sure the guy was older, but Tomas had taken control. They'd hit it off, talking and drinking in the bar. And then when the barman had closed down and they'd walked back through the swaying cars to their seats, a toilet door had swung open. Tomas had pushed his cute new friend through the open door, locked it behind them, and fucked him. Mouth, then ass. It was too easy. And the college guy was a great fuck, if a little tentative at first. He'd left the train at Cleveland in the night. Tomas had already forgotten his name.

His luggage still hadn't arrived. The train left the station and Tomas could see across the tracks to derelict platforms and thick green undergrowth.

He ran his hand across his neck and chest, fingering the fine gold crucifix he wore. Tomas had long ago given up any serious adherence to his family religion, but the cross was a gift from his grandmother and a fine piece of jewellery. And Tomas thought he looked hot teaming it with an open shirt.

He was wearing his shirt open today. Tomas knew he was fit and handsome. He loved showing off his body, his toned abs, his firm stomach. Wearing his shirt unbuttoned always drew attention. He ran his fingers down the empty buttonholes and counted one, two, three. The late August day was warm already, even at 9.00am, and promised to get hotter. He undid the fourth button, and turned to a mirrored column where he adjusted his open shirt and checked himself out.

The letter peeked from his top right pocket. From the Principal of St Priapus College. His father had been an exchange student there more than two decades ago, and now it was Tomas's turn. The Catholic boys boarding school had awarded him a scholarship for his senior year, and today he would set foot inside the place his father had attended, but talked so little about before he died.

Tomas didn't need to read the letter again. He remembered that Mr Stanley Fitzpatrick, a teacher, would collect him from the train station and drive him to the college. But like Tomas's luggage, there was no sign of Mr Fitzpatrick either.

Three days ago Tomas had celebrated his 18th birthday with his mother, the sole surviving member of his family, in their apartment in the north of Buenos Aires. And then he'd gone downtown and celebrated again with his friends. They'd trawled the bars of Recoleta, drinking and dancing and looking for trouble. They'd joked about his not receiving the traditional male 18th birthday present, a visit to a brothel. There were gay brothels in Buenos Aires, of course, but fathers didn't take their sons to them. Maybe they took other men's sons, Tomas thought, wondering how many gay brothels there were in Ohio.

And two days ago he'd said goodbye to his mother and flown to New York. His friends had come to the airport to see him off, a rowdy group of stylish, rambunctious, out gay teens. He loved his friends. He loved how their shared gayness gave them the freedom and the licence not to cover up who they were. And he loved how Buenos Aires was big and cosmopolitan and progressive enough to give everyone a space in which to be themselves. Tomas was pretty sure a rural boys boarding school in Ohio might not be as accommodating.

And most of all he loved Florencio, his fuck buddy. Tomas and Florencio didn't use the term boyfriend. They weren't monogamous and they weren't looking for a permanent relationship. But as they discovered their sexuality and made their way around teenage pitfalls, Tomas and Florencio had supported each other, and fucked each other. They'd kissed at the airport, and Florencio had placed the five condoms in Tomas's top left pocket. Be careful, he'd said. Tomas promised.

An attendant pushed the luggage trolley into view and Tomas gathered his trunk and his backpack. He slung the backpack over his shoulder and felt the crucifix swing wildly as his shirt fell open. And then he dragged the trunk through the doors into the carpark in the hope of encountering Mr Fitzpatrick.

STANLEY MICHAEL FITZPATRICK

Born: Albany, New York

Married: Susan Fitzpatrick ( 17 years)

Carreer: History Professor and mentor
Age: 45
Hight : 6’2
Weight: 185 lbs
Star sign: Cancer
Portrait:

https://encrypted-tbn3.***********/...oHNovIpOqx2hckJ0zsSEpTBkCQxnHL9I-wFw2nfA1AJL-

Mr. Fritzpatrick or Stan as he known to his few friends, sits in the college station wagon waiting for the new exchange student to arrive. He is tired and frustrated with the college dean, his job, his wife and the status of the current Catholic Church.

Stan was raised strictly old school Roman Catholic and is proud to have the same beliefs as the popes from centuries ago. He feels that the church and the catholic college beliefs have been eroded and forced to come aligned to the modern beliefs of anything goes. Stan knows this is wrong and prays daily that the church will go back to its old beliefs.

To make things worse Stans wife of 10 years seems to be conforming to these new beliefs. Susan was so religious and pious when they first met. Now she drinks, wears confronting clothing and goes out with her friends to bars more then ever. Stan feels ignored by his once strict prudish wife, the church and the college dean.

Stan attempted to speak and discuss his opinions with senior professors on staff but they ignored him and told him to get with it and to accept the new century. Stan only reprieve was Miguel. Miguel was an exchange student from Portugal. Miguel was a senior last year and seemed to really care about the church and the old believes. Stan had many mentoring sessions with Miguel and they became close friends. Stan had actually became more positive and upbeat about life as he was finally able to relate to someone with the same beliefs. That wass until that horrible night last year before the Christmas break. Stan and Miguel were sharing a wine and discussing Greek architecture and art when Miguel tried to kiss him. My god! Miguel tried to explain how the ancient church stated that same sex relationships were not only condoned by the church but encouraged. Miguel stated the church needed adults in leadership positions to mentor and lead the younger generations in all ways including sex!

Stan showed Miguel the door and they haven’t spoken since. Stan regrets the broken friendship. Stan knows he did the right thing but his mind wonders back to that kiss from time to time. That kiss always makes Stan flush and perspire. Stan has tried all year to repress this urge. This SIN!

Stan looks at his watch and gets out of the car. Stan adjusts his tie and straightens his suit jacket. As he walks toward the train depot. Stan pulls out the welcome package envelope and looks at the old image sent to them from Argentina. It’s and old pic from 4 years ago. How was he to recognise him now? I’m so tired of the exchange students! Stan mutters to himself. They are morally corrupt.

Stan scans the crowd when his eyes settle on this young looking Latino lad. Stan sees the slicked back jet black hair. The Lad seems to strut about with his shirt all but undone. Stan can see men and women stealing looks at the lad.This young man exudes confidence and his walk makes it appear as if he is gliding across the floor. Please tell me this is not him! Not Tomas!

As Stan approaches his heart jumps in his chest as he sees the lad holding the college sign. He takes a deep breath and approaches. As Stan steps up to the lad and says hello he is suddenly struck at how he resembles Miguel. But but much more beautiful. OMG! Stan shakes his head and forces the image of Miguel and the kiss from his mind.

Im Mr. Fitzpatrick. You must be Tomas? Stan says. Stan looks down on the lad. Clearing his throat. Ahmmm. I think you need to button your shirt son! Please follow me.

Tomas stepped through the door into the car park and remembered the sign tucked into the outside pocket of his backpack. 'St Priapus' in big black letters. He had no idea what Mr Fitzpatrick looked like; probably some stuffy old professor with grey hair and thick glasses and a limp, he thought. And the car park was much busier than inside the train station.

He stood by the road and held the sign with one hand, tousling his hair with the other, then running a finger down his chest and his unbuttoned shirt. It was hot outside and Tomas was sweating. He'd been in these clothes all night and hoped Mr Fitzpatrick would turn up soon and that the drive to the college was short.

Mr Fitzpatrick saw him first. He was alongside Tomas before the boy noticed.

"I'm Mr Fitzpatrick," he said. "You must be Tomas."

Tomas sized him up. He wasn't quite the stuffy professor Tomas was expecting. Younger. In his late thirties or early forties maybe, well worn shabby suit and tie, unfashionable haircut, scuffed shoes. Sad eyes.

Mr Fitzpatrick cleared his throat. Tomas dropped the sign by his side and watched Mr Fitzpatrick's eyes take in his unbuttoned shirt which displayed his smooth, toned chest.

"I think you need to button your shirt, son," he said. "Please follow me."

Tomas complied by doing up one button and shrugged. But Mr Fitzpatrick had already set off across the car park. Tomas followed, dragging his luggage. The car was not parked close. Mr Fitzpatrick wove in and out of the rows until they reached an ageing station wagon. He put the key in the lock and opened the rear doors, then turned. Tomas noticed his sad eyes watching his slow progress towards the wagon. He unhooked the backpack first and then bent to lift the trunk into the wagon. When he turned Mr Fitzpatrick was standing disconcertingly close to him, his eyes fixed on Tomas's chest.

"Is it far to the college?"

"A good hour," Mt Fitzpatrick said, not once lifting his eyes to meet Tomas's gaze. "That is a nice crucifix."

Tomas felt for a moment that Mr Fitzpatrick was going to reach out and take the crucifix in his hand to examine it. Even as the older man's hand seemed to jerk forward Tomas decided to hold it up to the other man himself, peeling it off his chest and raising it to Mr Fitzpatrick's face.

"It was a gift from my grandmother," Tomas said as Mr Fitzpatrick stepped even closer to examine it. He was so close that the two cast only one shadow on the ground behind the car. Tomas could smell Mr Fitzpatrick's cheap aftershave. It was the smell of a stuffy professor, the smell of stifled hope and missed opportunity.

"Nice, very nice," Mr Fitzpatrick said almost under his breath. "Now, I think we should get underway."

"If it's an hour's drive," Tomas said, "I would like to change my clothes first."

"Really. But there's nowhere...."

But Tomas had already unbuttoned his shirt. He slipped it off and tossed it into the wagon, then sat on the tailgate to remove his shoes and socks. Mr Fitzpatrick stood back and watched. And when his shoes and socks were in the wagon too, Tomas stood, undid his belt, and slipped his tight jeans down to the ground.

"You can't do that here," Mr Fitzpatrick spluttered.

Tomas stood wearing only black string-sided briefs and the gold crucifix. He turned and leaned into the wagon, opened his backpack and withdrew a black sleeveless T-shirt and branded gym shorts. While Mr Fitzpatrick valiantly attempted to shield any passers by from a glimpse of the near naked Tomas, the boy dressed.

"That's much better," he said. "I will go barefoot if I may, for the ride."

"You may, you may," Mr Fitzpatrick said, sounding very flustered. He gestured to the passenger side and Tomas climbed in. The cheap vinyl seats were already hot under the bare flesh of his thighs and he adjusted himself as best he could. Mr Fitzpatrick climbed into the driver's seat, put the key in the ignition and turned. The engine wheezed into life. Mt Fitzpatrick let the engine idle and Tomas noticed again that his face was downcast. It seemed to Tomas that his companion was fixated on Tomas's long bare downy legs. Tomas adjusted his legs again in response to the hot vinyl. The gym shorts rode up and caught his cock uncomfortably, forcing him to adjust the shorts as well. He heard Mr Fitzpatrick catch his breath and sigh, before selecting a gear and reversing.

"Better put your seat belt on, Tomas," he said. "We don't want anything bad to happen on the trip."

Stan navigates the heavy traffic in silence. Thankfull that the busy city keeps what he just observed from his mind. After ten minutes they are on sparsely traveled road and he begins to relax. As Stan’s mind wonders back to the events in the carpark his Cock twitches and swells with him even noticing.

My god! String briefs on a male! He may as worn nothing! My god and and and and the size of his bulge! The teenager was practically naked! His hard young body muscled, toned, olive skinned and wet with perspiration. Miguel’s attempt floats into Stans mind.

Stan hears yelling and is startled by a horn. Mr!!!!!!!! Stan hears Tomas yell. Stan clears his head with a shake realising he’d almost driven into the other lane, barely missing an oncoming sedan. Sorry! Gulp! I’m just a bit distracted son! Omg. Stan pulls over into a secluded gravelled rest area off the side of the road.

Tomas? You ok? Im a great driver! I don’t know what happened there! Stan’s gaze is drawn to the lads skimpy gym shorts and toned legs. Stan steps out of the car and walks over the small toilet blocks. He steps in and up to the urinal with no door. His eyes look at crued graffiti scratched into the wall. “ for a great Cock Suck Call 555 2323”

Disgusting! Stan mutters as he pulls out his Cock to pee. Stan is stunned that his cock is nearly hard Making it difficult to pee. He manages to relieve him self and turns to the sink. In doing so he nearly knocks Tomas over! Oh!! I didn’t see you. You should wait outside Stan says sternly.

After the near miss, Mr Fitzpatrick drew into a parking area which was empty except for a rundown toilet block. Tomas had no idea where they were or even which direction they'd been travelling. The city had been busy but out on this flat country highway, the traffic had thinned. Mr Fitzpatrick had seemed strangely distracted from the moment they'd met, and Tomas was not really surprised that his driving was so bad. Just a shock when he nearly hit an oncoming car. Pulling off the road was a relief.

The older man stopped the car and jumped out without word, then walked quickly into the toilet. Tomas was alone somewhere in rural Ohio with just the sound of the breeze in the trees and the occasional passing car to amuse him. The day was getting even hotter and he'd wound the window down. His hair was now untidy and he flipped the visor down but the mirror had been removed. So he pulled the rear view mirror round and examined his hair, slicking it back into place with his hand. The feel of the gel on his skin reminded him that he'd need to purchase a tub when he next was in a store.

Tomas waited, but Mr Fitzpatrick did not return from the toilet block. Tomas checked his phone. Florencio had messaged him.

"Hi babe. Hows the USofA? Skype? Missing you. F"

He thought about replying but the signal was weak. He would do it later when they reached the school.

What could be keeping Mr Fitzpatrick? Tomas opened the door, climbed out and stretched his legs. He strolled over to the trees which shaded a pile of rubbish. The sort of stuff people throw out of their cars; drink cans, food wrappers, cigarette butts. But on closer examination he noticed several used condoms. Maybe this was a lovers' lane, a dogging place. Florencio had joked about going dogging once, but Tomas hadn't thought he was serious.

He turned and walked over to the toilet block. It was constructed of concrete and stained where water had run down the outside. Water also ran from the door. Tomas entered the block and met the dank smell of sewage. He turned into the dark room and bumped into Mr Fitzpatrick. The older man was standing at the filthy sink but he wasn't cleaning his hands. Mr Fitzpatrick jumped when Tomas contacted him, throwing his hands up in horror. Tomas had the distinct impression that Mr Fitzpatrick had been holding his cock. Maybe he was peeing into the sink for some reason, Tomas thought.

"I didn't see you," Mr Fitzpatrick said. "You should wait outside."

"I need to pee," Tomas said.

"Wait outside," Mr Fitzpatrick said again, but with urgency.

Tomas's eyes were getting used to the darkness. The toilet was cramped and there was little room to push past Mr Fitzpatrick to get to the urinal. As their bodies brushed in the gloom Tomas looked down and realised that Mr Fitzpatrick still had his cock out of his trousers. And when he looked up he saw the older man's eyes inches from his own.

"I need to pee," said Tomas.

Without warning Mr Fitzpatrick put his hands on Tomas's shoulders. The two men were roughly the same height and in the cramped space, he reached his hands behind Tomas's head and enfolded him.

"Really, I need to pee," Tomas said again. "Are you OK Mr Fitzpatrick?"

The older man was crying. He sobbed uncontrollably and with his hands still behind Tomas's head, leaned down and laid his head against the 18 year old's chest. Tomas was unsure what to do, so embraced Mr Fitzpatrick in what he thought was both a gesture of sympathy and put him in a position to push the older man away if he needed to.

"No Miguel, I'm not OK."

Miguel? Who was Miguel? Over Mr Fitzpatrick's shoulder Tomas read 'for a great cock suck call 555 2323' written on the wall. Tomas wondered if his companion had stopped at this toilet block before.

"I'm not OK."

And he could feel that Mr Fitzpatrick's cock was hard, proud of his trousers, poking Tomas in the groin, and dripping precum onto his gym shorts.

Stan sobs and mutters “why, why, God. Why must you torment me?” Stan leans down and places his head on the young mans chest. He can smell the teens male scent. Almost intoxicating! He feels the strong arms of the teen embrace him. Stan tenses and feels his Cock jump. Omg! It’s still out of my pants. It’s touching him!

Stan’s Cock presses into Tomas’s groin. He gasps knowing what he is feeling. Miguel. Miguel. Maybe you were right. Stan sobs uncontrollably. Miguel! You were right! I’ve been sent a second chance by god! I believe you Miguel. Yes!

Stans tears stop and he takes a deep breath. Stan lifts his head. His face inches from the beautiful boys face. Tomas! I’m sorry you’ve seen me in this state. I’m your mentor. And I need to correct a mistake. You see the church demands that the elders mentor their boys correctly in all walks of life.

I pushed a beautiful lad away last year. He tried to show me gods way, but I pushed him away Tomas! Stan places his hands on Tomas’s shoulders. Tomas. I need you. I need you to do what Miguel wanted. I need you desperately! Stan pushes Tomas gently to his knees. He gasps loudly as his hard Precum dripping Cock slaps Tomas’s chin. Stan looks down into the Latino’s eyes and nods his head.

Inside the gloomy smelly toilet, Mr Fitzpatrick was holding Tomas in a very uncomfortable position. Tomas had to reposition his feet and his hands repeatedly to stay upright and not fall against the wall, or worse, onto the slimy floor.

Mr Fitzpatrick was muttering to himself, his mouth against Tomas's chest. The 18 year old could swear he heard the older man say something like "Why, why, God. Why must you torment me?” This was getting seriously weird.

Mr Fitzpatrick took his hands from behind Tomas's head and started rubbing the boy's chest through his T. He was sobbing and muttering something about Miguel, whoever the fuck he was.

Then Mr Fitzpatrick stopped sobbing, drew a deep breath and looked up into Tomas's face. Even in the dim light he could see Mr Fitzpatrick's faraway look, the lines on his face where he'd cried, and below, down his chest, the man's hard cock, its end buried in Tomas's gym shorts. Tomas noted that as cocks go, Mr Fitzpatrick was quite well endowed.

"Tomas! I’m sorry you’ve seen me in this state," Mr Fitzpatrick said. "I’m your mentor. And I need to correct a mistake. You see the church demands that the elders mentor their boys correctly in all walks of life."

It does? Tomas didn't really think about the church one way or another. It was just a place where they baptised babies, and old ladies dressed in black went to light candles. And as for elders mentoring boys, Tomas had heard plenty about priests interfering with students. There were active campaigns at home to have them all locked up.

Mr Fitzpatrick spoke again, but this time clearly and with resolve.

"Tomas. I need you. I need you to do what Miguel wanted. I need you desperately!"

And then the older man placed his hands on Tomas's shoulders and slowly but firmly, pushed Tomas down. Tomas's knees buckled and he felt the cold slimy floor beneath them. As he lowered himself, Tomas felt Mr Fitzpatrick's hard cock furrow its way up his body, snagging the waist of his gym shorts momentarily, and then pulling his T up with it as the cock zeroed in on its target. Tomas's chin was splashed with precum and then Tomas was confronted with the cock head, its neatly shaved knob pointing directly at his face.

Tomas looked up at Mr Fitzpatrick who was nodding serenely.

Tomas sighed.

"So you want me to suck your cock? Why didn't you just ask in the car?"

Stan gasps loudly at Such a vulgar question. “ ... suck cock...”. He looks down upon the lad who appears way to willing and wonton. Stan sees his own engorged Cock head pressed against the lads chin. His gaze takes in the filthy floor. The stench. The ugliness of the old toilet block. Omg! What am I doing cries Stan! Stan throws his head into his own hands! Arching his back. in doing so his Cock presses against Tomas’s wet lips. Stan feels the strange wet unfamiliar feeling. Crying loudly with closed eyes. No no. I’m so confused.

Stan bolts from the toilet. His Cock still firm and hard. He runs sobbing to the old water spicket. Turning it on and puts his head under the cold muddy water that erupts from the nozzle. Stan quiets down and looks down in relief. His Cock now deflated. He puts it away. Brushes his fingers through his hair. Need to get this cut he mumbles to himself.

Stan pulls himself upright. The water has refreshed him. His mind now sharp and focused. . He knows he’s had some kind of episode but refuses to dwell upon it. Stan walks to the car and opens the centre console where he has his only hidden vice.

Stan fished out a Marlboro Red cigarette out, lights it and inhales deeply. Enjoying the tabacco and the relief it brings. He rarely smokes but enjoys it when he does. Stan looks over at Tomas as he walks from the decrepide toilet block. Stan exhales a plum of smoke as he watches the lad strut up to the car.

You ok Mr Fitzpatrick? The boy asks.

Son. I’m fine. Forget all about this. I just haven’t taken my meds Stan replies. Trying to brush it off as if nothing happened. Stan finishes his cigarette and flicks it into the air. He watches the burning embers twist in the air before falling next to a used condom. Stan gazes at it and sees it’s relatively fresh. Stan shudders as he sees signs of condoms, needles and alcohol containers. Disgusting! Stan mutters. Let’s go Tomas. It’s getting late. Stan fires up the old school wagon and pulls out onto the highway. Feeling better and alert.

They drove for about ten minutes before Mr Fitzpatrick spoke. Tomas licked the spot on his lips where Mr Fitzpatrick's glistening cock head had rested for a moment.

"Tomas. I don't know what happened in there."

He paused. Then coughed.

"You asked if I am OK. Well, I have been under a lot of stress lately. And today I have remembered some things...you made me remember some things..."

Tomas looked down at the precum stain Mr Fitzpatrick had left on his gym shorts. It was a bigger stain than he expected and he wondered how he would wash it out. Fuck it, they were expensive shorts. But he said nothing and looked out the window.

Another five minutes went past in silence. Tomas looked across at Mr Fitzpatrick who seemed to be taking special care to look straight ahead and not glance about, gripping the wheel with white knuckles.

"I am not worried by it," Tomas said. "It's OK. You are curious. I am gay. I understand."

Mr Fitzpatrick exploded.

"Don't be so fucking stupid boy. I am not curious. Nothing happened in there. Nothing."

He took a hand off the wheel and waved it about violently, slapping the vinyl bench seat between them. The car swerved across the centre line and back.

"Well," Tomas said, "you did put your hard cock against my lips."

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up."

Tomas could see the heavy sweat on the older man's forehead. It ran into his eyes. Mr Fitzpatrick struggled to remove a handkerchief from his pocket and with only one hand on the wheel, swerved again. The car skidded into the gravel and came to rest at an angle on a grassy bank.

"Shit. Shit. Shit...I don't usually swear...sorry...I'm not myself today."

Mr Fitzpatrick dropped the handkerchief and rested his head on the wheel. Tomas sat and listened to the engine ticking. He realised his companion was sobbing again.

So what to do? Tomas was not in a hurry to encourage Mr Fitzpatrick to drive off in his present state. It was a quiet road, there were no houses in sight, and checking his mobile again, the coverage was limited. Besides, who was he going to call? He thought while the older man sobbed, making no attempt to compose himself, and decided to talk it out.

"Please Mr Fitzpatrick, I don't want to argue with you. And I'm not complaining or anything. I won't tell. It's just that you're not driving very safely, and you did try to stick your cock in my mouth."

Mr Fitzpatrick jumped as if he'd received an electric shock.

A light rain began falling. The car windows misted over.

"Who is Miguel?"

Mr Fitzpatrick's sobbing turned to a howl.

Stan sobs and cries out for what seems hours. Ok ok. I’ll explain. Stan adjust the driver seat to recline a bit. Miguel was my friend. My best friend from Portugal. I was his mentor. He’s a wonderful young man.

We discussed theology and the church for hours and hours. We just clicked like I never have with anyone. Stan stops momentarily and looks at Tomas. Understand that son. Close friendship? Well one far uhhh just before Christmas break .....

Stan fishes out another Marlboro red and lights up. Inhaling deeply. He cracks the window and exhales. Anyway Miguel tried to kiss me and that’s it I say quietly.

What was that Tomas Asks loudly.

He tried to KISS me I scream at Tomas. Kiss!!!!! My god it’s wrong. It’s against my beliefs! I slap the steering wheel and smoke.

Anyway I have thoughts. Thoughts ? Understand? I’m not curious!! Nooo!

When I saw you today it reminded me of Miguel. Maybe I should have kissed him back! It’s just a kiss. Right? I should have guided him better.

I’m just confused miguel! I mean Tomas! I’m sorry for any Lewd act I may have said or done. Ok. I’m sorry. Let’s put this behind us.

I inhale and Ask. Understand Tomas? I’m sorry. Really I’m truly sorry.

Tomas considered Mr Fitzpatrick's latest outburst. The guy was seriously troubled. The older man's face was a mix of rage and confusion. The windows were totally misted up now and the rain a little harder.

"I guess," Tomas said, and hesitated. "I guess so. I just don't understand. Sure I'm only 18, I don't know everything, but I know that I love men, I love the feel of their lips on mine, I love the feel of their hard cocks in my hand, I love it when I take a cock in my mouth and the other guy's eyes close in ecstasy and then I suck and we kiss, and maybe we explore each other's assholes with our fingers and then...."

He waited for Mr Fitzpatrick to yell again, but the other man had shut his eyes and remained silent.

"...when we are ready, I love it how we can fit together. How a cock fits so neatly into an ass and how you bend into each other. How you twist and turn together, feeling him from inside. I love it when he pulls you back into him, or pushes your legs wide, and your asshole relaxes and you take him deeper than you imagined possible. And then your cock twitches and you explode. Feeling a guy cum in my ass is something I could never not feel. Unloading into a guy's mouth, flooding him with semen, looking down into his eyes while my cock pierces his lips, and then taking it out so that strings of my cum join my cock to his face. And then leaning down and kissing him and tasting my cum on his face. Finding these pleasures has been...has been...I cannot describe."

Mr Fitzpatrick stayed silent and still. Tomas looked down and saw that the other man's cock was a hard rod along his thigh under his trousers. He'd brought this man to erection just by talking.

Tomas took out his phone.

"Let me show you some photos of my friends."

He scrolled through and found what he was looking for, then held out the phone to Mr Fitzpatrick.

"Please," Tomas said. "Please look."

The other man opened his eyes and looked at the phone. Tomas moved across the seat so that they sat close.

"Here, this is Florencio, my best friend, my fuck buddy."

Mr Fitzpatrick gasped.

"Your...fuck buddy?"

"Yes, the first guy I fucked. Sort of my favourite."

They looked down at the handsome smiling face of Florencio.

"And here we are at the pool."

It was a photo of Tomas and Florencio, both smiling, and almost naked except for tiny speedos.

"Ahem. Florencio is a very pretty boy," Mr Fitzpatrick said.

"Florencio and I are like brothers," Tomas said. "I will miss him this year. Do you have a picture of Miguel?"

Mr Fitzpatrick leaned back and reached for his wallet from his back pocket. He unfolded it and selected a passport photo and passed it to Tomas. It was a photo of a handsome, dark haired boy in a school uniform.

"I didn't realise Miguel was a student," Tomas said.

Mr Fitzpatrick sighed.

"Miguel was the exchange student last year. He was 18 like you. He loved ancient history. He loved the classics. We talked for hours about the Greeks and the Romans. He had an eye for beauty. And he was beautiful."

Their eyes met and Tomas saw a look of loss and longing.

"And then he kissed me and I pushed him away. And he went back to Portugal."

Mr Fitzpatrick sobbed. Tomas, feeling sorry for him, placed his hand on his companion's leg and felt Mr Fitzpatrick's hard cock beneath the fabric. The older man flinched and made a sharp intake of breath, but he didn't move Tomas's hand away. Tomas looked up. Mr Fitzpatrick's eyes were closed again, and maybe for the first time today, Tomas thought, his face looked a little less stressed.

Tomas moved his hand along Mr Fitzpatrick's cock, rubbing gently but slowly increasing the tempo. With his other hand he reached under his gym shorts and released his own cock which sprung to attention. He sensed Mr Fitzpatrick looking down at him as he enclosed his own cock and stroked himself, while rubbing the older man more firmly. Mr Fitzpatrick was breathing loudly now.

"Do you want to touch me?" Tomas asked.

Mr Fitzpatrick gurgled an indistinct reply.

"Do you want me to get your cock out?"

Mr Fitzpatrick nodded. Tomas used both hands to undo Mr Fitzpatrick's belt, then unzip his trousers. With a little struggling in the cramped front seat, Mr Fitzpatrick slipped his trousers and underwear down below his ass, exposing his hard cock. Tomas took the cock in one hand, and his own cock in the other, and jerked vigorously. The older man had a fine cock, long and red-veined, with a neatly cut head.

"Do you want me to suck you?" Tomas asked.

Mr Fitzpatrick was panting.

"Um, no, um, that's fine. Just do what you're doing."

Tomas himself was not close to orgasm, but felt Mr Fitzpatrick was close. He disengaged from his own cock to concentrate on Mr Fitzpatrick, turning with his knee upon the bench seat so he could place both hands around the older man's cock.

"You have a beautiful cock, Mr Fitzpatrick," Tomas said. "If you want I can suck you. I would like to suck you."

"Suck me Tomas. Suck my cock."

He reached across and placed his right hand behind Tomas's head.

Tomas leaned down, pushing his head behind the wheel, ready to take Mr Fitzpatrick's cock in his mouth. But at that point, just as Tomas's lips brushed the cock head, Mr Fitzpatrick came in a rush, his cock spasming and a stream of cum spurting across Tomas's face.

"Ughhh," Mr Fitzpatrick groaned as his cock unloaded.

Pinned by Mr Fitzpatrick's hand, Tomas kept his head down, inches from the streaming cock and let his companion finish. When Tomas was sure he was done, and the stream subsided, Tomas sat back. He caught a glimpse of himself in the rear view mirror, his mouth and nose dripping with Mr Fitzpatrick's cum. And he was still hard himself.

"Do you want to suck me now, Mr Fitzpatrick?"

Stan sits there breathing heavy in a state of euphoria. The orgasm seemed to drain all of his troubled thoughts from his mind. Stan floats on cloud 9 and looks down at his Cock, now half hard and covered in cum. Stan chuckles I’ve made such a mess. You are a truely a beautiful boy Tomas! Thank you.

Stan leans over and kisses Tomas lightly on his lips. As their lips meet Stan moans softly and presses his tongue inside the lads mouth. The sticky salty cum taste overwhelms his taste buds. Stan pulls back blushing. S s sorry. Iwanted to kiss you in thanks. Stan chuckles. I forgot you were covered in my goo! Laughs loudly.

Stan smiles at Tomas. Um as for sucking your cock. I I I w w would not be a any good the older man stammers. Can I touch it?

Stan reaches and traces his finger along the thick vein. Mmmm. So dark Tomas! Beautiful skin! Stan blushes and says, you know your already longer the me? Your only 18. Tomas? Can you show me how to truely pleasure yourself?

Please. Just stroke your cock. Give me a show Please and I will just watch if you don’t mind?

Stan watches Tomas start to stroke slowly. As Stan gazes upon the lad his own hand grasps his cum covered Cock. His fingers find globs of cum and without thinking sucks his own fingers clean.

They kissed. Tomas felt Mr Fitzpatrick's tongue explore his mouth. With the tongue came a wave of Mr Fitzpatrick's semen swept in from Tomas's face. Tomas responded firmly. It was only a light kiss, but he pushed back anyway, for a moment, against the older man's probing muscle.

When they disengaged, the semen had also transferred from Tomas's face to Mr Fitzpatrick. Tomas expected his face was just as much a greasy slick as his companion's. He licked his lips in confirmation.

"Can I touch it?" Mr Fitzpatrick asked in a whisper.

Tomas, his cock hard and erect, acceded in silence. His companion reached out and with the faintest of touches, traced a vein from the balls, gently and deliberately, all the way to the knob head, and then circled the head until coming to rest on the pisshole, which he fingered as if feeling for the cavity in order to plug it.

Mr Fitzpatrick laughed nervously.

"Can you show me how to truly pleasure yourself?" he asked.

Fuck it, Tomas thought. Every guy masturbates, even a stitched up religious nut job like Mr Fitzpatrick. Maybe even more frequently than average.

"Stroke your cock," Mr Fitzpatrick said. "Give me a show."

But for the steady rain and Mr Fitzpatrick's laboured breathing, the car was quiet. The misted windows gave them complete privacy. The atmosphere steamed. The sweat formed on Tomas's neck and ran down his back to the vinyl seat. He looked across at the older man and just stared, then formed his mouth into a coquettish smile.

Mr Fitzpatrick stared back. Tomas watched as, without breaking the stare, Mr Fitzpatrick's hand moved down to his semi erect cock where he cleaned himself up with his fingers. He did the same to his cum-painted face, rubbing his palm around until most of the globs of cum had been transferred to his fingers. And then, again without looking away or even blinking, Mr Fitzpatrick put each finger into his mouth in turn, and sucked his own cum off his fingers with a loud slurping sound. And when he was finished Mr Fitzpatrick sighed, smiled serenely, placed his hand back on his cock, began stroking, and nodded, as if inviting Tomas to begin.

Their eyes fixed on each other, Tomas lifted his tight black sleeveless T over his head, then pushed his gym shorts over his proud cock, and slipping his fingers into his string-sided underwear, slid both items down to his knees. He was effectively naked in the front seat of the wagon.

Without speaking or looking away, he began stroking his cock, slowly and gently, beginning at the base and pulling up to the knob, then down and up, gradually increasing the tempo. He felt the rate of his breathing increase, and detected the same in Mr Fitzpatrick whose cock stroking mimicked the 18 year old's.

The sweat behind his back made the seat slick. Tomas slid forward, his knees separating, stretching the shorts, until he was reclining, his cock pointing skywards.

Now he looked away and down at his cock. He pumped more strongly, faster, tugging at his cock, deforming any loose skin under the relentless motion of his hand. He was breathing hard. Was Mr Fitzpatrick the oldest guy he'd ever jerked off for? Was he attracted to him? Not really. But if that was the case why did Tomas feel so aroused? So anxious to please?

He felt sorry for Mr Fitzpatrick. Discovering his sexuality gave Tomas enormous pleasure. He felt unburdened by so many inhibitions and strictures which society wanted to teach him. Sex was fun. Sex was liberating. Sex was his social lubricant. Sex was what he and his friends did to cement their camaraderie, clarify their personal identities, find themselves. He knew his whole life was ahead of him. He had ideas about what he would do with himself after this year at St Priapus. And he was mature enough to know that anything could happen. Nothing was fixed in stone. Nothing was guaranteed. There was only the here and now. And here was this hot car and cum on his face and his cock, ripe for release.

And here was this strange older man he'd known for an hour, who'd dripped precum on his gym shorts, who'd cum on his face, who'd stroked his erect cock like it was the most delicate ancient artefact to be worshipped and adored. This sad man who'd suppressed his natural urges all his life and then pushed away Miguel when an opportunity for sensual fulfilment finally presented itself.

Tomas came explosively. His cock spasmed and he let his hand fall away from the head. His semen spurted in long white streams up into the air and then across the dash and the glovebox and onto the floor. Tomas bucked and moaned, and then as the wave of ecstasy subsided, pumped his cock again, milking the last of his man juice until the last drops ran down onto his fingers, and one final drop hovered on the very top of his cock head like a beacon.

He signed and slumped back into the seat.

"Oh my fucking god."

Mr Fitzpatrick's voice sounded other worldly. He'd relinquished his own cock stroking simply to gaze at Tomas and the post-arousal scene.

"Oh my fucking god," he said again.

And then he leaned down, his lips damp with perspiration, his mouth opening and closing expectantly, until his head was an inch above Tomas's cock and the last drop of cum at the tip.

"May I?"

"You may," Tomas said.

Mr Fitzpatrick closed the gap and gently kissed Tomas's cock and flicked his tongue across the cum drop. When he sat up, the drop was gone.

They sat for some time in silence, listening to the rain.

"I think it is time we moved on," Mr Fitzpatrick said.

He pulled up his trousers and arranged himself, then recovered his handkerchief and wiped his face.

"Here," he said, holding the soiled handkerchief out to Tomas.

Mr Fitzpatrick started the car, turned up the demister and let the windows clear. When he could see, he pulled into the road and drove off.

As they passed through the wet landscape, Tomas, shirtless and shorts still around his knees, the dank handkerchief in his hand, the cum-stained cabin about him, wondered how today's encounter might play out down the track.

Tomas? Tomas? Pull your pants up son. Your cock is beautiful but we are almost there. Time to clean up ok. Clean that cum up now please orders Stan in a worried tone. Stan glances over as he drives and watches the lad clean the globs of cum off of the car interior and himself.

Stan drives slowly as the lad pulls his shorts up and adjusts his gorgeous Latin cock.


After it appears clean Stan reaches over and grabs the kerchief and pushes it into his jacket Pocket. It’s dark and rainy as the approach the school. Stan pulls over just outside the gate and turns to Tomas. Son? Not a word of this. Ok? It would be bad for all concerned. Now staiten them shorts up. Here let me help. Stan awkwardly reaches over and pulls and adjusts the shorts until he’s satisfied. Stan’s hands linger on Tomas’s shorts. Squeezing the lads cock one more time.

They pull onto campus and park in the staff car park. Stan leads the lad to a large red brick dormitory. By the time they reach the entrance they are both drenched.

Tomas this is Mr Blake. He will check you into thr dorm ok? Be at my office at 8:00 am tomorrow for follow up. Ok.

Stan turns and walks to the staff office and turns in the car keys. Thankfully the rain has as he has to walk home. Stan and his wife live in staff housing just off campus. As he walks he wonders what bar his wife will be in. Stan looks at his watch and is surprised he made such good time. He had told Susan he wouldn’t be home till midnight. Wow four hours early. I can shower and clean up! Stan walks quietly up to his house. He normally enters via the front door but Stan left his keys in the car. Dang it he mutters.

Stan walks round back and finds and open window in the back spar bedroom. Stan climbs quietly into his house through the window so he doesn’t startle the neighbors. Stan stands up amd suddenly he hears noises. Unfamiliar noises. Tv maybe? Stan wanders?

Susan Fitzpatrick heard her husband start the car and drive off. She lay in bed for another hour before rising. It was warm and she turned on the air conditioning. Her husband Stanley hated the air conditioning. The school monitored their power usage and surcharged their rent if their utility account was too high.

The fucking school monitored everything.

And Stanley hated being called Stanley. Susan smiled ruefully. Call me Stan, he'd say, especially in front of the boys. Stanley sounds so old. So she'd double down on calling him Stanley. As if Stan sounded any more up to date.

Susan made a coffee and turned down the thermostat another degree. She loved it when the house was cold, which was also when Stanley was out. A win win, she thought.

Seventeen years they'd been married. Her parents had loved Stanley. A good Christian lad with a college degree and a teaching job. And that was that. The man she'd married was still a teacher. Good Christian? What the fuck did that mean? Only he was 17 years older. Chronologically speaking. His head was full of ancient Greece and Rome. And a view of the world which was ageing at the speed of light.

And St Priapus hadn't helped.Well, not until recently. The solid redbrick college sat in featureless fields two hours from Toledo. She made the acquaintance of the other faculty wives, but had never made friends, and watched the lucky ones leave when their husbands were promoted, or they got divorced, or even when their husbands were fired. How she envied Mariella Renwick when her boring husband was implicated in the last exchange student incident. He'd left at night without a word, and the college gave her 2 weeks to pack up her house.

Mariella asked Susan for help clearing up. They'd burned everything, throwing Renwick's papers, clothes, his life's work, onto the flames. They got drunk and somehow made their way into Toledo, ending up in a bar where they'd enjoyed the male strippers, placing fifties drawn from Renwick's account into their g-strings. And ended up in a hotel room with a hot young guy who, as she recalled through her alcohol-clouded memory, had no trouble keeping two older women satisfied.

Mariella went home to New York after that. Fuck she envied Mariella.

Then Stanley befriended the Portuguese exchange student, Miguel. Susan soon wondered if something was going on. Indeed, she hoped it. Stanley and Miguel were inseparable. He was a beautiful boy, tall with dark hair and olive skin. A classic Latino stud. And when he came round to their house one day to do the yard work for pocket money, stripped off his shirt and laboured in a pair of denim shorts so brief no American guy would wear them outside 70s porn, Susan was transfixed. Miguel's body made the Toledo stripper's look like a Dad bod!

It was while she was ogling Miguel that she glanced upwards at a faint noise. Stanley was leaning out of an upstairs window. She repositioned to see him better. Stanley was doing what she was doing. Ogling Miguel. She crept upstairs and listened at the door to the unmistakable sounds of Stanley jerking off. Indeed, he vocalised. Fuck me Miguel. Suck my cock, Miguel. Sit on my face, Miguel.

Now she noticed how Stanley took every opportunity to be in the boy's company. Miguel was 18. All the exchange students were. It was a condition of the scholarship. So technically speaking, if Stanley was interfering with Miguel he wasn't breaking the law. But he was Miguel's mentor in the school. Some teacher student duty of care must have been breached.

It occurred to Susan that here was a way out of the tedium of life at St Priapus with Stanley. She watched for any sign that something was going on. Except when Stanley turned his back to her in bed, he and Miguel were never apart, in class, at the house, around the campus. But no matter how hard she sleuthed and scrutinised, everything seemed above board. The two men simply shared an intense interest in Greek and Roman civilisation. If anything it made Stanley even more fucking boring. With Miguel seemingly on a string he still couldn't persuade or coerce Miguel to bring his fantasy to fruition and suck his cock. She thought about reporting Stanley for masturbating over Miguel, but who would take that seriously? I mean, she masturbated over the cast of The Young and the Restless, in broad daylight with the curtains open. It passed the time.

So Miguel went home and the new exchange student was arriving today. Tomas. From Argentina. His photo wasn't very illuminating. Just another swarthy dark haired Latino.

But Stanley's driving into Toledo freed up her day. And cooling the house was the first step in preparing for her visitors. Six months earlier the new religious studies teacher had arrived. Joe Riffle. Ex Marine, ex seminarian, ex husband. There was a spark with Joe the instant they met, and within days he and Susan were fucking. She did everything to get Stanley out of the house. Volunteered him for extra tutoring or giving seminars to historical societies. She enrolled him in interstate conferences, and ordered him to shop for things she made sure were only available from distant stores. Anything to make time for Joe to come round, tear off her clothes, throw her on the bed, or any appropriate surface, and fuck her senseless.

And it got better. Joe introduced her to Michael Smith. Mike was a travelling textbook salesman. His round brought him to St Priapus once every month. Joe and Mike had served together in the Marines. They shared everything, including their women. Susan and Joe had been fucking for a month when Joe introduced her to Mike. He hadn't been subtle or given her time to consider. He simply said my old friend Mike Smith is in town. You'll like him. Let's have a threesome.

And she liked Mike and they did.

Today was Mike's fifth monthly visit.

Joe and Mike spent all day with Susan. She kept her eye on the clock at the beginning. She fucked the two guys in the living room, first sucking their cocks and then letting them spit roast her across Stanley's mother's velour sofa. After lunch they moved upstairs. For dessert, she let Joe take her ass while Mike filmed. He was quite artistic and she'd seen some of Mike's work posted on a porn site. Joe hammed it up during their filmed sessions by wearing an eye mask. It made him look exotic and mysterious, he said, like she was being fucked by Zorro. And he wore a T-shirt which covered an ugly scar he'd picked up on active service. She asked Mike once what he intended to do with the film he took of her and Joe fucking, and was reassured when he said it was just for his personal use.

After lunch they drank. Beer, then spirits. The air conditioning had been running all day and the house was comfortably cool. Cool enough for her nipples to stay hard as she walked naked from room to room. Joe liked to walk about in his eye mask, naked from the waist down, his cock wagging at her as he strutted. Mike followed them with the camera.

Susan had a drinking problem. She simply lost track of time. Joe and Mike took turns fucking her on the marital bed, and then they took a turn on the garden swing where they were shielded by the fence and the hedge, but still hear the boys if it were term time.

And when the rain started, they moved back to the bedroom. She danced before Mike's camera and then let Joe try out a few new ideas, most of which involved a scary set of tools and toys he took from a suitcase which Mike had brought. But they looked worse than they felt. Joe tickled and slapped and stretched and penetrated her with a variety of objects, Mike filming them up close. One of the dildos, a particularly large device, hurt her ass, but she didn't complain too loudly. Susan depended on these guys to keep her sane. And Mike had said the pained expression on her face as Joe inserted the dildo really got him off.

Susan was very drunk. It was after dinner time, she thought, but she wasn't hungry. She wanted to sleep. But Mike wanted to play back the film he'd taken. To see if he had what he wanted, he said. He plugged his camera into the flat screen TV in the family room and ran the film on continuous repeat. Susan dozed mostly through a succession of orifices and insertions, Joe and Mike whooping and high five-ing and rewinding and freeze framing.

She stumbled to the bathroom. It was nearly dark and she turned on the light. A bedraggled, cum-smeared witch stared back from the mirror. She sat on the toilet and peed. The TV blared through the house. A woman was screaming something about too hard, too hard.

"Can you turn it down a bit guys?" she called. First Joe and then Mike stepped into the bathroom.

"I need a shower," Joe said, turning on the water and stepping in.

Susan felt woozy and cold. Maybe she fainted briefly. When she came to, the guys were picking her up.

"The water will clear your head," Joe said, and he and Mike held Susan between them as the three stood in the shower together.

The water did the trick. As did Joe soaping her tits and Mike fingering her ass. How did these guys get hard so many times in one day?

Stan waits quietly in the dark spare room. He listens to the noise but can’t make out what it is through the thick walls. Stan’s mind wanders back to the car ride with Tomas. Stan knows what he did was wrong, but Tomas was so erotic! So beautiful! He shivers and shakes his head. Damn! She has that air conditioning on! I’ve told her no! The electric bill will be sky high!

Stan opens the door which opens quietly and walks along the thickly carpeted hall way. The noise from the living room stops suddenly, making him pause in the hallway. Hearing nothing he continues into the living room and looks around. Nothing. No one around.

Stan’s eyebrows are raised when he sees a new curved massively large flat screen. Omg? She’s maxed the the card again! Stan notices the new tv is on and flickering. Suddenly the screen comes alive and Stan sees a view of the living room he’s standing in. She’s making home movies? Stan wonders and frowns. Wondering where she got the money for cameras.

Stan sees a hard drive connected to the tv and camera equipment next to the tv. He approaches the tv when Susan suddenly appears on screen. Stan can see she’s dressed up to go out and rather seductively. Stan watches as susan walks up to a man who suddenly appears. The Cam zooms into the males face but he's wearing a mask and a T-shirt.

Stan sits open jawed as he sees Susan kneel, unbuckle mask-guy's pants and Sucks his Cock! Susan is drunk and saying the most filthy of words as she sucks and gags at times. Stan is further shocked when the view changes to another man Stan doesn’t recognise and his faithful wife sucks him!

Stan looks around wondering where Susan is. He starts to get up when the men start to spit roast Susan and take turns cumming. Stan is angry and aroused. That bitch! Slut! Stan clinches his first as the scene changes. Obviously later in the day. Susan is on their bed and says to the camera. Fuck my married cunt Zorro! Mike Fuck my asshole! Fuck me boys like a filthy whore! Stan gasps loudly. And watches his wife get double penetrated. Stan is so angry but sees that his own cock is hard.

Stan watches the rest of the debauchery and his face grows paler. Stan almost cries out loud as his wife screams in protest as her orifices are stretched with strange looking devices. The Cam zooms in on Susan’s face. It’s a picture of a crazy women. Blood shot eyes. Make up has run streaks. Cum is caked everywhere.

As Stan watches he goes to the liquor cabinet and pours a large red wine. Stan gulps it down and pours another, placing the bottle down next to the Cam equipment. Stan’s eyes tear up a little even though he knows he enjoyed the video.

Suddenly Stan’s attention is drawn to Susan’s voice from upstairs. Come on boys. Out of the shower. Don’t bother drying off either! Come Fuck all my filthy married holes one more time before my pathetic Stanley comes home! Stan hears foot steps on the stair well.

Stan looks around frantically and runs to th large closet with a sliding door just off the living room. He peers out as naked Susan comes into the living room and looks at tv. What a slut! Cackles Susan! He soon hears more footsteps. Stan drinks his wine in the closet then remembers the bottle! Damn! I forgot to put it away. Stan watches and hopes they don’t notice.

Mr Blake, the year advisor, showed Tomas to the dorm.

"Tomas, you're the first here for the new semester," he said. "I haven't allocated beds in the senior boy's dorm yet so you can take your pick."

He showed Tomas the dorm and the bathroom, and left. Tomas scanned the room again. It was spartan and worn, 10 beds in two rows of 5. He'd hoped for his own room, but this was his lot.

Tomas threw his backpack on the farthest bed, then dragged his trunk down the room. His wet clothes had concealed the cum stains from Mr Blake. He undressed to his black bikini underwear, then unzipped his backpack. There was an apple, a banana and a bottle of OJ which he consumed. What was it with Mr Fitzpatrick not eating? Tomas smiled. Mr Fitzpatrick got the show he'd asked for and didn't even respond with a meal. He hoped Mrs Fitzpatrick was treated better.

Now that he was dry and alone it was a good time to skype Florencio. He plugged in his iphone by the bed to charge it, then lay on the blanket with the phone. Florencio was online.

"Hi babe," Florencio said when his face materialized. "How many condoms left? Fucked any gringos?"

"Four left," Tomas said. "But they come in packets of ten. What have you done with the other five?"

"Still in their wrappers," Florencio said. "I'm too busy working to be waving my cock about. What's the school like?"

"I haven't seen it in daylight yet. But this room is a shithole. Ten beds, like military cadet camp. And it's just me. I'm the first arrival."

"You always cum first," Florencio said.

They both laughed.

"I put on a show in the car for the guy who collected me. A mad middle aged fucker who wanted to touch me and suck my cock, and then pray for his salvation. I hope he's the only lunatic."

"Well look after yourself," Florencio said. "I gotta go. Company."

"A guy? You cucking me already?"

"I wish," said Florencio. "My aunt. Give me a quick look at your cock and I'll be off."

Tomas was already hard just hearing Florencio's voice. He pulled his cock out and turned the phone round to give Florencio a stroke show.

"Are you stroking too?"

"Mmmm," said Florencio.

Tomas and Florencio's breathed in unison as they stroked themselves from over 5,000 miles apart.

"Cum for me," Florencio said. "I want to see your cock unload. Cum for me, babe."

"OK," Tomas sighed, gripping his cock, pulling hard, thinking about the last time they'd fucked a few days before. The 18 year olds had returned from their night clubbing and, holed up in Florencio's warm room, cemented their friendship in their now customary way. Tomas recalled pushing Florencio onto the bed, opening his legs and licking him from ass to cock tip. Florencio liked to be passive. Tomas pictured him lying back with his arms outstretched, vocally urging Tomas to take his ass, hard. Tomas liked to kiss while he was fucking. He bent down to French kiss Florencio, his cock buried deep in the other boy's ass. That was the angle he liked, the best angle for....

Tomas came in a rush. Florencio was telling him to hold the iphone still. Semen spurted into the air thenback down onto Tomas's stomach.

"Fuck," Tomas said. "Fuck, Florencio, fuck."

He turned the phone round. Florencio was tugging at his cock to please Tomas, who twirled his free hand in the cum pool, running the grease through his fingers. Florencio lowered the phone and Tomas looked down his friend's chest and watched the familiar cock spasm, then shoot its load.

"I forgot to mention breakfast....oh."

Mt Blake was at the door. Tomas met his startled gaze. The man's eyes scanned Tomas's naked body from top to bottom, coming to rest where Tomas's impressive cock still crested the waist band of his underwear.

"Um, breakfast is in the dining room at 7.30. It won't be much. The cooking staff haven't returned yet. Well...goodnight then."

Mr Blake turned and left.

"Fuck. Who was that?"

"Just the second guy from this school who's seen my cock today. I'm scoring 100%."

"Should be good for your grades," Florencio said. "Thanks for the wank. Gotta go and kiss my Aunt goodnight. She's the one with the moustache. Pray for me too."

Tomas switched the phone off. Absentmindedly, he sucked the cum off his fingers. Then, standing, he decided a shower was in order. But on opening his backpack, then his trunk, then searching his backpack again, his toilet bag was missing. He remembered seeing it in the back of the car. Fuck, he thought. It's fallen out when I was changing earlier.

He wanted to wash and brush his teeth. It was only 8.30. Still early. He decided to find Mr Fitzpatrick and see if he could retrieve his bag. The teacher had pointed out his house when they'd entered the college earlier. Tomas pulled on his wet clothes.

.....................................................................................................................................

As much as Susan liked being soaped and groped by Joe and Mike in the shower, the cubicle was too small. The guys kept banging her into the taps and the screen. She was already tired and spent, and had a headache. But Joe and Mike were still keen to fuck and it seemed a waste of two long hard cocks to call it quits. So she took Joe by his cock and with Mike in tow, and dripping soapy water on the stair carpet, led them downstairs where there was more room.

The video Mike had taken during the day was still playing continuously on the flatscreen TV. They were greeted by a close shot of Susan deep throating Joe, his hands behind her head and pulling her mouth onto his cock as hard as he could. She watched herself gag, disengage, turn and spit, and then greedily latch onto Joe's cock for another pounding.

"Guys," she said. "We've tried everything today except for one thing. One thing I really want to try, wanted to try since that first day you both arrived to fuck me. I want to try double anal."

"Fine by me," Joe said, still in the face mask, his T wet from the shower clinging to his muscled torso. "Where did we put the lube?"

Susan reached under the sofa and pulled it out. Joe and Mike stood while she lubed their cocks, and then let Joe lube her ass while Mike filmed up close.

"Shit I love those fingers in my ass," she said, squirming as Joe took every opportunity to penetrate her digitally and loosen her up.

They kissed Susan, and then Joe positioned himself on his back on the sofa, his cock pointing at the ceiling. Susan sucked his cock until he reached the required hardness, and then she lowered her ass gently onto his waiting member, Mike filming all the while.

"Fuck this vid is hot," Mike said. "I can't wait to upload....watch it back again at home."

Susan and Mike twisted into a position where she could sit up and lean forward.

"Fuck me from behind, Mike," she said. "You can fuck me and film."

Mike maneuvered into a half squatting position and pointed his cock at Susan's asshole which already housed Joe's cock. And then, camera held out wide in his right hand, he pushed his cock up against Joe's cock. Susan reached back and the two used their fingers to open her asshole up enough for Mike to slide in alongside Joe.

"Fuck," Susan cried. "Fuck fuck fuck, that hurts."

Mike tried a few gentle thrusts.

"Give me a fucking moment to get used to this," Susan said.

They squirmed and wriggled together, Susan being careful not to respond to the pain by lifting herself off the two cocks.

"Fucking Jesus," she said. "Christ that hurts."

"You are beautifully tight," Joe said. "Just relax and go with it. Mike , are you getting all this?"

"I hope so," Mike said, bringing the camera in closer until it touched his waistline and pointed down at the conjunction of their cocks with Susan's ass. "It would be better with a third guy to film. More professional. Less shaky."

"Well, give it to me boys," Susan said. She was sore and stuffed full. She wanted some relief and thought about giving double anal another 5 minutes. No more. Joe was quiet, just breathing heavily beneath her. And Mike was intent on filming. She felt strangely disappointed. It was all a bit clinical and anti-climactic. Not really sexy at all. Yet on professional porn, women being double teamed like this cried out in ecstasy. Maybe what was missing was a third guy. A cock in her mouth.

She tried to distract herself from the discomfort by looking round the room. Her earlier violation was still playing out on screen. Mike's hard drive sat by the TV. The empty beer cans were strewn across the floor. There was a whiskey bottle too. And over by the window the wall clock said 6.00pm.

6.00pm. That can't be right, she thought. It said 6.00pm when I went upstairs to pee.

And then she noticed a bottle of red wine, opened, about a third empty, along the wall a bit from the cam equipment. It was hidden by a chair if you entered the room from the stairs. But Susan could see it clearly now. Red wine. Nothing special. The stuff Stanley drank to blot out his day.

But no one had drunk wine today. Just beer and spirits. Why was an open bottle of Stanley's wine sitting on the floor?

Stan gapes open jawed at the kinky filthy sex that’s occurring right in front of him. Worse yet his wife is a participant. A willing participant! I mean two cocks? In Susans ass! Bitch! Whore? Stan mutters. Stan recognises one of the men, but can’t remember where and the other has on a disguise of sorts.

Stan peers through the closet door with his Cock in his hands. My god. Again I’m beating off again! Tomas. Susan. Miguel? They’re all freaks. The men seem to cum rather quickly at the same time. Stan can see the cum spurting from the two men’s Cock as they pull out of his wife’s ass. Stan expects more sex and debauchery, but the two men leave quickly out the back, leaving Susan and the camera.

The video still plays as Susan crawls to the wine bottle. She picks it up and moans loudly. Stan? Stan? I know your here? You Fucking faggot worthless cunt of a husband! Where are you! Susan screams drunkenly. Your masturbating aren’t you fag! Susan crawls to the closet door and flings it open.

Stan stares at his cum drenched wife with his Cock spurting cum all over his hand. Ha ha ha. Hic Hic. I knew it! You find out you faithful loving wife is a filthy cheating Cock crazed whore and instead of getting angry you beat off. Ha. Susan looks at Stan with a sneer on her face.

Suddenly there is a knock at the front door.

Tomas found the house where Mr Fitzpatrick described and knocked on the door. From inside came the sound of someone yelling. When he pushed the door it swung open.

"Fag," cried a woman's voice. And then indistinct moaning.

The 18 year old stepped into the hall and peered round the corner into the living room. A naked woman was kneeling before an open closet in which Mr Fitzpatrick was standing, pants around his knees and cock in his hand. A bottle of red wine disgorged its contents onto the carpet. And on a widescreen TV, an explicit porn video was playing which to Tomas's experienced eye, appeared to be an amateur production.

Mr Fitzpatrick saw Tomas immediately. The look on his face obviously startled the woman who turned her head.

"My, oh my. Let me guess," she said slurring her words drunkenly. "You must be the beautiful Tomas."

Tomas nodded.

"Lucky you've still got your cock in your hand, Stan. Looks like Miguel all over again."

The woman reached for a rug on the sofa, winding it round her naked body. Mr Fitzpatrick adjusted himself and pulled up his pants.

"Tomas, I'm very sorry about all this...about everything. What do you want?"

"My toilet bag. I can't find it. I must have left it in the car."

"Come with me," Mr Fitzpatrick said. "Susan, clean yourself up and turn off the TV. I'll be back in a minute."

"Fuck off," she said.

Mr Fitzpatrick hurried across the room, grabbed Tomas by the shoulder, and piloted him out of the house.

"I'm very sorry," he said again. "As you can guess, that is my wife Susan. I can't begin to explain what's been going on. Better that you simply forget everything you've just seen and heard."

"It seems I have a lot to forget from today," Tomas said.

"Hmmm. We all have."

Mt Fitzpatrick walked Tomas back onto the campus towards the main building.

"I have to collect the key first and then we'll search the car."

As they neared the main door, a man burst through and charged towards them.

"Fitzpatrick," he said breathlessly. "Just the man. There's been a complaint about two naked men running through the campus. The police are on their way. Come and help me search."

"Principal, this is Tomas Randazzo, the new exchange student. From Argentina. Tomas, this is Mr Baumgartner."

The Principal was a small, thickset man with a fierce combover. He was wearing an overcoat which did not conceal the pyjamas beneath.

"Buenos dias. Welcome to St Priapus," Mr Baumgartner said, holding out his hand, which Tomas shook. "Pardon our little excitement this evening. I can assure you not every day at St Priapus is as eventful as this."

"I just need to get the key to the wagon and find Tomas's toilet bag," Mr Fitzpatrick said. "He wants to brush his teeth. Then I will join you."

"I'm sure Tomas's teeth can wait," Mr Baumgartner said. "Come with me, Fitzpatrick. You can go to the car later."

The Principal hurried off towards the teacher housing.

"Go back to the dorm, Tomas. I have to do this now, but I'll get your bag and bring it up to you later."

Mr Fitzpatrick bustled off in the Principal's wake.

Stan looks at the principal as he runs off into the night. As he turns to run after him he remembers where Tomas’s bag is. Tomas go back to my house and go around back. I dropped it by the window when I climbed in. Tomas looks at Stan. Why did you crawl through a window into your own house?

It’s a long story. Go get your bag, I gotta chase the principal.

Stan quickly catches up with the principal who is out of breath near the centre of the campus. Anything? No nothing says Stan. Maybe it was a prank call? It’s quiet and I don’t hear a thing Sir why don’t you go home and I’ll check with security ok? The principal wheezes ok and waddles off.

As Stan walks to the security office he wonders what to do? Susan! Tomas! It’s all crazy! Stan goes to the security office but it’s closed. He calls their cell phone, but the guard says he saw nothing. Probably a prank says Stan. Don’t worry about it. Thank God breaths Stan as he hangs up. I would have a lot to explain if they were caught.

Stan begins to walk home when he notices the light on in Joes office. He’s working late. Stan likes joe because he taught religion the old fashion way and he had faught for his country in the Marine Corp. Stan walks up to joes office and knocks lightly. Joe you there?

Come on in. Is that you Stan? Stan opens the door and sees Joe sitting at his desk in a shorts and t shirt and tennis shoes. Evening run Joe? Asks Stan. You’ve built up quit the sweat! You have a minute joe? Something has come up and I’m desperate. I have no one else to speak to. You have anything to drink?

Of course Stan! Please sit. I hope everything is ok? Joe pours Stan a neat scotch. Stan gulps the strong whisky and tells joe everything. Everything that is except the Miguel and Tomas part.

Joe stands up after listening. Pours two more scotches and looks Stan.

You know the Old Testament tells about men with multiple partners. It’s actually part of God’s plan. Maybe this is God’s will? I know it must be confronting and maybe even debilitating to see your lovely wife do such sexual acts with others. Stan? Just ask yourself, have you been a good husband? Have you provided your wife with everything she needs? Emotionally and physically? Something to think about ok mate. If you want I can have a sit down with you and Susan later this week?

That would be great Joe! Thanks. Stan trudges home in the dark and sleeps in the spare bedroom.

Tomas spent the weekend getting to know the campus and the local area. There was a full length pool at St Priapus, but he discovered a great swimming hole in the river which ran along one boundary. There was a small beach and an overhanging tree with a rope tire attached. And signs of an old campfire. He took his speedos, but there was no one about and he swam naked, enjoying the cool water as the hot weather continued.

On Sunday Mr Blake introduced him to Ze, a Chinese guy who would be boarding in his senior year. Mr Blake explained that besides Tomas and Ze, there would only be three other senior boarders, who could be expected by nightfall. It seemed the other senior students were all day boys from Plainville, the town which lay outside the front gate.

Ze was slim and dark haired, not as tall as Tomas, but fit in that wiry Asian way. He chose the bed next to Tomas, and unpacked his things.

"Your English is great," Ze said.

"My mother is English," Tomas said. "I have English family. I have stayed with them in London."

"At home in Hong Kong," Ze said, "my parents like us to speak English in the house so that we improve."

"Do you like to swim? Tomas asked. "There's a pool here but it's not open yet. I found a great swimming hole nearby. After I show you round the campus we should go for a swim."

Tomas showed Ze the breakfast room, the Principal's office, and then the teacher houses. He looked closely at the Fitzpatrick's place. A curtain swayed upstairs, but maybe that was the breeze.

"Mr Blake picked me up from the train station," Ze said. "He drove straight back and didn't say a word in the car. We only stopped once, for McDonalds. I am hoping there's somewhere better to eat, but maybe I expect too much. Do you think there is a sushi bar in Plainville? We could cycle in for dinner some nights."

Tomas laughed. Mr Fitzpatrick had driven through Plainville on their way to St Priapus. The town appeared to boast a plentiful supply of truck stops, tattoo parlors, funeral houses, and churches of the happy clappy variety, but no sign of a sushi bar.

The two 18 year olds chatted about home, America, and their plans for the future. They soon reached the swimming hole. Both boys had dressed in their swimsuits earlier, and stripped off their Ts and shorts. Tomas was pleased to see Ze wearing a pair of racers, not quite as brief as his, but tight and well cut, showing off his neat cock and firm ass. Tomas was wearing his one-inch sided Mategear briefs. They barely concealed the mound of his cock and finished low at the back, showing the top of his ass crack.

"Hey, are those Mategear?" Ze asked "They're made in Hong Kong. I didn't bring my pair. They told me Americans were too prudish to let you wear swimwear like that in public."

"I don't know," Tomas said, "but I will wear what I like."

The boys entered the water.

Stan wakes up on Saturday morning. It’s the last weekend before the new term begins. He slides out of bed. Yes the guest room bed! As Susan has ordered. Stan slips on his runners and shorts and singlet and does a few stretches. Stan has been running everyday since that fateful night he brought Tomas home from the train station. It helps him clear his head and deal with his sexual urges.

Stan steps ouside and begins his jog. After a couple of miles her hears splashing and yelling at the old swimming hole. He stops and gets his breath and walks up to the wooded tree line that obscures the old swimming hole.

He sees Tomas clad in impossibly small swimmer briefs. They’re so small that Stan can see the bulge from 50 yards away! Stan watches as Tomas and the new Asian boy, Ze, take turns swinging off the rope. Stan admires the Asian boys body clad only on swimmers.


Stan steps through some trees and shrubs trying to be silent and gets within 10 yards of the lads. Stan peers from behind the shrubs and sees Tomas and Ze laying on a towel next to each other. They’re both caressing each other’s skimpy swim wear. After a few minutes this leads to both boys having there hands in each other’s pants

As both beautiful boys kiss each other Stan stifles a gasp. Stan quickly takes out his Cock and begins to stroke and gaze upon the kissing and jerking of the boys.

Tomas and Ze swam for a few minutes before returning to the bank. When Ze bent to adjust the towel he'd brought to lie on, Tomas admired his muscular thighs and firm ass. He was sure Ze was gay, or at least curious. The Chinese guy was hot and handsome, and wore a tiny swimsuit which showed off his package to great advantage. And he'd left his Mategear swimwear at home. What a shame!

"Hey Ze. What Mategear suit do you have?"

Tomas leaned on his elbow and turned towards the other boy. Ze lay on the towel, his hands behind his head, stretching his legs wide and looking at the sky.

"Just like yours, Tomas. Tiny and tight. Leaves nothing to the imagination. I love their underwear too. The thongs. The string sides. The peekaboo pouches that show the top of your cock. Wish I'd brought them all now."

Tomas could feel his cock hardening.

"You know Mategear is like signature gay stuff?"

Ze was still looking at the sky, with his eyes closed.

"Yeah. So I wear gay gear. I like the feel of it and so does my boyfriend."

With Ze's eyes still closed, Tomas decided to stroke himself, running his palm along his stiff member and enjoying the rub of the silky fabric.

"My fuck buddy is Florencio," he said. "I skyped him yesterday. I'll introduce you to him next time."

"Is he cute?"

"Cute and fuckable," Tomas said. "Like you."

Ze raised himself on one elbow and positioned himself inches from Tomas.

"Man, you are a slut. Why didn't you say so?"

Tomas smiled, peeling the swimsuit off his cock. It sprang nicely to attention, nearly fully erect, a bead of precum already on the tip. Ze smiled, rubbed himself, and then did the same.

"Snap," he said.

The two 18 year olds stroked themselves in the sun by the river. Tomas had a thing for Asian guys. Loved watching them fuck online, but he'd never fucked one in real life. He rose onto his knees, straddling his horny friend, and with one hand, stroked Ze's cock, and leaned down on the other hand so he could kiss Ze's mouth. Ze's cock was long and hard, heavily veined and cut into a neat round knob. He could feel Ze twitching and adjusting his pose even as Tomas explored Ze's mouth with his tongue.

"Can we fuck here?" Ze asked.

"Who's to see us?"

Ze put his arms behind Tomas's back, kissed him again, and then slid down between Tomas's thighs so he could take the Argentine boy's cock in his mouth.

Stan bites his finger to stifle a moan. His eyes wide with the live gay action occurring in front of him. Stan takes a deep breath and slowly peels off his running shorts so no cum gets on them and places them on a bush. Stan firmly grips his cock and jerks slowly as he watches The hot Asian lad slide down and easily take Tomas’s hard cock into his mouth.

Stan bites his finger again as Precum oozes out of his Cock. Stan’s strokes up and gathers Precum and moans softly as his Cock is now slippery and coated in cum.

Stan watches as Tomas moans and then twirls in his position until he’s in a 69 with Ze. Stan can hardly believe his eyes as both hot boys take each other’s Cock and deep throat suck without a hint of gag!

As Stan watches on in excitement his hand slips and lands on a small twig witch breaks with an audible crack! . Naked from waist down, Stan freezes in place as the boys suck each other eagerly

Ze was a great cocksucker. Tomas moaned and turned so he could suck Ze's cock. The two 18 year olds sixty-nined, thrusting and bending together, Ze on his back, Tomas astride him. Tomas gave Ze's cock a forensic tonguing, making sure to lick every inch of the Chinese guy's member, from balls to tip and back, tracing his veins and folds, and any other corrugation which excited his tongue tip.

Ze moaned and writhed beneath him, working Tomas's cock just as hard in return. The sun, warm on his back, dazzled and flashed on the river, so Tomas shut his eyes to avoid the glare.

Tomas sat up and stroking Ze's cock, leaned forward on his knees to give Ze access to his asshole. Ze reached back and spread Tomas's butt cheeks, then thrust his tongue into Tomas's tight hole, darting and probing as deep as he could. Tomas squirmed in ecstasy as the Chinese guy invaded him, first the tongue, then a finger, then two fingers. Ze pushed and twisted his fingers, easing the sphincter. He realised that Ze was preparing him to be anally fucked. Tomas was surprised as he was usually the dominant one when meeting a stranger. But his new friend was persistent and strong, and Tomas leaned into the digital violation, moaning approvingly.