Teacher's Visit

The knock on the door startled me. I had been home from school about a half hour, and was sprawled out on the couch watching television. I jumped up, spilling my bowl of Cheetohs on the floor. Shucks! I'd just opened the bag and now half of it was on the floor! The floor was really dirty, too, the Cheetos were now covered in dust and cat hairs. Mom kept saying she'd do the floors on her next day off, but somehow she never did.

Another knock. I'd better see who it was. Mom had told me never to open the door for anybody, ever, unless she was home, but I could see who it was.

I went into my mother's bedroom, she had a window that looked out onto the front door. I climbed up on the bed, and peered out.

"Mr. Skyler!" I shouted from the window. It was my teacher from second grade, Mr. Skyler! He was standing outside all dressed up in a business suit. He went visiting his students' homes on Thursday nights, but his last time at my house had been near the first of the year, and my dad had been living with us then and Mom had been staying at home with me. A lot had changed since last October, so I guess he figured another visit was needed.

He saw me in the window and waved and I ran to open the door for him. It was great, Mr. Skyler coming to my house! He was a great teacher, loved his work and loved us kids and the feeling was real mutual.

I opened the door and looked up at Mr. Skyler and he looked down at me. Smiling, then a bit concerned. "Keith! You're not dressed!"

I looked down at my briefs and shrugged sheepishly. "I was home and watching television. Didn't know you'd be coming by. Come on in!" He walked in with me and looked around while I looked at him.

Mr. Skyler was maybe thirty years old and had the blackest, curly hair you could see, all shiny and clean and cut close to his head where it made a mis-arranged mop. His face was serene and reassuring with the strong blue eyes above the rather-puglike nose with its wide-flared nostrils, you felt safe around him and when he smiled at you for something you did right in class, moving his cheeks from their flat perch upon his face into a pair of moon-shaped crescents, you stood up a little taller and tramped triumphantly back to your seat, bathed in that pearly light.

But he looked troubled as he regarded our house, the dirty clothes strewn all about, the layer of dust on everything and things piled on every surface, with a smell of unchanged cat-litter box and rotten banana skins over all that. He looked around, then back at me, started to speak, stopped, cleared his throat, and started again. "Is your mother home?"

"She's working." I said.

"I thought she stayed home with you."

"She did, until Daddy left us." I said. "Then she had to get a job, and fast."

"Oh." he said and silence fell again.

"She'll be home about six-thirty." I concluded. "Usually, unless the job runs late, or she gets stuck in traffic. Then it's more like seven o'clock or seven-thirty."

"So who stays here with you from the time you get home until then?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "Nobody."

"Nobody?"

"I watch television." I said. "I eat a snack and wait for Mommy to get home. Then we eat and watch some more television. Mommy's tired when she gets home."

"Oh." he said again.

"Weekends are worst." I finished. "Mommy has to work all of them, both days, so I spend all day alone. Mom won't let me stay over the weekend with anyone."

"I see." he said. "So that's why...the house could use some help." he said delicately.

"Uh-huh." I said. "Mom says she's going to clean up her next day off...but she hasn't done that yet. She says cooking meals for me and doing the laundry is all she can take."

"I see." he said again. Looked at his watch. "It's only four o'clock now. She won't be home for another two and a half hours."

"Nu-uh." I agreed. "You want some Cheetohs? I got a half-bag left. And we have some ice water in the refrigerator."

"No, I'm fine." he said. "But I think I should stay here until she gets home."

I thought of that and a big grin lit up on my face. "Okay, come on. We can watch cartoons!"

I grabbed his big hand and tugged at him. The hairs on the back of his hand tickled my palm, but I held on and he let me drag him over to the couch which was our sole piece of furniture to sit on.

The Cheetohs I had spilled crunched under his shoes as he stepped over and sat down. Dead center of the couch, which sagged toward him from both sides. That suited me, I got up beside him and let the couch slide me right down against him. I grinned up at him, said, "Sorry!" but I wasn't sorry one bit.

He grinned back at me and said, "No problem, Keith. Might as well get comfortable; it's going to be a while."

"Okay." I said and I grabbed his arm and slipped it up over my shoulders and snuggled in.

Again, he just grinned, this time with a bit of a chuckle and he let me worm my face in against his big, strong chest.

We talked a while, but there isn't a heck of a lot a teacher and student can talk about. He listened diligently to my stories about my classmates, answered my questions about schoolwork and told me some innocent things about himself, like he lived alone and he had liked school when he was my age, and he liked games.

The talk sort of trailed off about a half hour later, a show came on which I could see he liked and I didn't, so I didn't say anything and he quieted down as he watched the show. Talk-talk-talk, that's what they do on those shows, I don't see why grown-ups like them, I don't see why anyone likes them! They're boring!

So I got bored and I began to look at Mr. Skyler. He was such a nice-looking guy. He looked down at me when he felt my eyes on him and he smiled and his hand came up and ruffled my hair. I smiled at him and then looked down bashfully. Where I ended up looking, quite by accident, was at his crotch. He was scooted forward a little on the couch due to the shape of the back cushion and I could see how the center of his pants were bulged out. Just like my briefs were, I noticed, only with my briefs, you expect that sort of thing, but not pants! So I stared at that and stared at that, and Mr. Skyler (I think) didn't notice. I looked up and he was entranced with the men talk-talk-talking on the television. Then back down to his pants and considered that bulge.

I was bored and I was curious and I was barely eight years old; so I did what any curious kid is going to do in a case like that, I reached down and grabbed hold of that bulge. I really just wanted to know what it felt like, if it was all him or if it was just the material folded funny or something.

Mr. Skyler kind of gasped when I got hold of him. Inside that bulge, it was all soft and warm and sort of squishy, not like liquid but like silly putty, it gave way, but slowly under my questioning hand.

I heard Mr. Skyler give another sort of gasp then, and I looked up to see him looking down at me, my hand on his crotch, his eyes were wide and his mouth open and his entire face looked sort of softened. He locked eyes with me, me with my hand on his pants, and I felt a soft area under my hand start to get swollen and harden.

"Keith," Mr. Skyler said, and it wasn't a normal tone of voice, just sort of a husky whisper. "Keith, what are you doing?"

I didn't know any better but to answer, and truthfully. "I wanted to see if that was your peter or not." I said. "And it is, and it's getting harder." I said, also truthfully, because the bulge in his pants was larger than ever, and crowned with a long, thick shaft that could only be his peter.

Mr. Skyler's only answer to that was a sort of gurgle, which I figured meant he liked it. I began to rub his pants, right on top of his peter, and he just sort of gave that same gurgling noise, kind of a "gur-ur-ur-ur-ur!" sound.

My next move was to reach and get hold of the handle on his zipper, and I began to tug it down. When I did, Mr. Skyler shifted, but all he did was kind of straighten out his body, to make it easier for me to unzip him, which I did. When the fly came open, the thick bulge that was his now-hard dong was a white oval in the opened flap, filling it to bursting. The material was thin, much thinner than mine, and I puzzled about that. It was like he had a white handkerchief down there!

"Go ahead." Mr. Skyler said huskily, his voice almost hoarse, but it came out slow, measured, and intimate. "Go ahead, Keith. You can do it if you want to."

"Yeah!" I said with a smile widening my mouth as I reached in to find the way to get it on out. When I did, it was like the side of the handkerchief (I'd never seen boxers on a guy before, honest, I didn't know what they were then, so it was all strange to me) and I could push that aside and tug the entire, turgid length out into the open, and Mr. Skyler's pud stood proud and tall and waved its head at the ceiling.

"Cool!" I breathed when I saw it. "It's so big!" A sort of star winked on top of it and I looked closer. "What's that on top?" It had a kind of small, clear-like-glass button on top, and inside it were lots of smaller little bubbles, so tiny you could barely see them. All I knew was that it was definitely not piss! I reached up and touched it and it was real hot and sticky and I lifted my fingertip away and it reached up with it, making a lot, still-clear rope of stuff connecting my finger to the top of Mr. Skyler's pud. "What is that?" I asked him again.

"Oohh!" He moaned. "It's...it's a sort of thing that your body makes when you grow up."

"Yeah?" I said, interested. "What does it do?"

"This, nothing much, it's just the first of it. If you keep working it and playing with it, though, it'll make a whole lot more all of a sudden, and that will be sort of white."

"Yeah?" I said again. "What do I do, work it like this?" and I began to pump his cock up and down. Now, I had learned to do that to myself and get a kind of tingling that felt really good after a while, so I knew sort-of what to do. Mr. Skyler's cock was so big I had to move my hand a whole lot, though, not just wiggle my fingers back and forth like I did to myself, and so I began to stroke up and down on Mr. Skyler's dong, and he groaned, much louder now, and he muttered words like, "Oh, yeah, Keith, that's it, yeah, do it for me, do it for your teacher, Keith, I love it, yeah, come on, do it for me, faster, Keith, do it faster, do it faster for your teacher."

"Okay, Mr. Skyler." I said and I worked his pud even faster, my little hand pumping up and down that huge, turbulent length of man-meat as it moved like a warm hot-dog in my hand, a hot-dog with a loose wrapper that slipped up and down as soft as velvet over the huge, now-purplish head.

Mr. Skyler moaned as I moved my hand even quicker, and his words mumbled forth again, "Oh, yeah, that's a good boy, that's my good pupil, you learn real well, Keith, now, would you kiss it for me, kiss it for your teacher, let me feel your lips on it, Keith, let your teacher feel your lips on it, please, you can do it, come on, you can do it."

"Yes, sir." I said and I obediently leaned over and I gave that cockhead a nice kiss. When I did, the slimy, sticky stuff stuck to my lips and I pulled away and that rope of stickiness slapped against my chin and I reached up to wipe it away with my free hand while my tongue came out to lick my lips clean.

Salty, warm and salty, that was how it tasted. I stopped pumping Mr. Skyler's prick in mid-stroke, and I licked my lips clean then lifted my hand up. "Hey, that tastes good!" I said in wonder. "Kind of salty but real good."

"Yes, Keith, it's good, you can eat it if you want to, it's not going to hurt you any, kiss it off of me, kiss my cock head clean for me, Keith, do it for me, do it, please, do it for me."

So I leaned over and this time I really began to lick his pud. That slimy clear stuff was all over the top of his cock by now, and I slurped on it eagerly as if I had a Mr. Skyler-flavored Tootsie Pop in my hand and I took the entire head into my mouth and when I did, Mr. Skyler began to babble out his low monotone of words again.

"Yeah, take it in your mouth, take it all in your mouth, now, Keith, that's a good boy, that's a very good boy, you can suck on it now, suck on my cockhead just like that, it feels so good when you suck on it, you can do that for me, can't you, Keith, be a good boy and suck on my cock just like that, just like that."

Mr. Skyler's hand which had been around my shoulders was now sliding down my back, and he shifted just a little bit toward me and his hand reached down from my other side, the side away from him, and he reached into my briefs like that and I felt his grape-sized fingertips catch hold of my little peter. He got hold of it and he began to wiggle it up and down as best he could, and he kept on muttering, "suck it for me, Keith, be good to it and I'll be good to you, we'll be best friends, Keith, you and me, suck it for me and we'll be best friends, suck it deeper, Keith, even deeper, you can take more of it if you're careful and if you're good, suck it deeper for me, suck it deeper."

With that as my incentive, I got bolder. When my teeth scraped him for a second, he gave a grunt of pain, and I contritely pulled up and licked the scraped area with my tongue until I had it fully soothed and then I moved again, this time being careful with my teeth and after a time I learned how to take it into my mouth all the way inside, and Mr. Skyler loved that, his cock was so big and hot now it was like holding a big chunk of hot meat in my mouth (I guess it was, wasn't it, a piece of hot meat, hot man meat! He-he-he-he!) and Mr. Skyler was really moving his fingers on my own little pud.

My peter began to tingle like always and I groaned and mumbled and my hips hunched themselves up at Mr. Skyler's hand and he moved even faster when I did that and I was gasping around his cock in my mouth and as I sagged down in relief from my own little tingle, Mr. Skyler began to groan in earnest. His hands caught hold of my head, and he croaked out, "It's okay, Keith, I'm almost ready to shoot all that white stuff, you'll like it, let me help you finish, just hold on and we'll finish, Keith, I'm ready to shoot all that white stuff out for you and you'll like it, just hold on and let me help you."

I did and while I choked a little now and then, it wasn't too bad, and since Mr. Skyler was feeling so good and he had just made me feel good, I let him pump my head up and down while I gripped his cock as tight as I could, and Mr. Skyler's stream of words stopped, choked off, and then he sort of went, "uh, uh, GUH-UH-UH-HUH, KUKH-KUHHHHHHH!" and with that last "kuh" of his, he delivered on his promise to shoot out all that white stuff, and he did, right into my mouth. His hands tightened on me, and then I felt him, through sheer force of self-will, forced himself to let go of me, and I was free again, and somehow I knew he really wanted me to just keep on doing what I had been and I made myself lunge up and down on that cock even while it squirted a ton of that hot white jizz all in my mouth, there was so much of it, it spurted out the sides of my mouth, it ran down his shaft and I encountered it as I moved downwards again, heavy jets of it spurted while it was deepest in my mouth, and I choked and snorted and when I did, a huge glob of it went up into my nostrils and I snorted again and a hot white dribble poured out of both my nostrils at once, and still more hot white goo was pouring out of Mr. Skyler. I started gulping it down as hard and fast as I could, and yet more of it poured out of my mouth and I snorted out still more from my nose, and then I gulped yet again and Mr. Skyler's groans lost an edge, though they continued loud and vehement, and I was then able to get control, for no more was gushing out of his prick, it was all done and I had to clean up, and then I was slurping on his prick which was getting softer, and then it was too soft to hold in my mouth and I let go, and sat back up straight, looked at Mr. Skyler.

He was sweaty now, his chest still pumping air in and out, but he gave me a grin like none I'd seen on him before, it was all the appreciation and well-done's he'd ever given me, all rolled into one giant, open mouthed smile as his breaths hissed in and out.

"Heh-heh-heh-heh!" Mr. Skyler chuckled, and that was another sound I'd never heard him make, he'd laughed with us before, but that was a hah-hah-hah sound, this was deeper and more...special. "You're a very good boy, Keith."

"Did you like that?" I asked, just to hear him say the words.

"Keith, I liked that a whole lot." Mr. Skyler said and he reached to take me into his arms and I realized and I crawled up into his lap, to sit straddle on one leg while he reached for my mouth.

But it was his tongue that came out and he licked my face, Mr. Skyler licked my face where his jism that had squirted out of my nose and had splashed on my face, he licked that off of me, and it was like a dog and not like a dog, it was very warm and felt so good. When he was done, he gave me a kiss then, and it was a real long, warm kiss and I could taste that salty jizz on his lips where he'd licked it off me and I bet mine were even saltier, but he kissed me hard just the same.

"Whew!" Mr. Skyler said. "That was really something." He said with a sort of final sound.

Over? I looked at the clock. "Mr. Skyler, it still isn't five o'clock yet. You're going to be here for another hour at least if you're waiting for my mother."

"Yes." he said, not seeing it.

"So until we hear her car pull up." I said and I slipped back off his lap and one of my hands caught hold of his limp prick. "I'm going to keep right on hanging onto you. Maybe it'll get all nice and hard again and we can do it some more."

His cock was swelling already. "I think it will." Mr. Skyler agreed.

"Yeah." I said. And I scooted down to give his cock some encouragement by wrapping my lips around it.

Mr. Skyler came twice more before six fifteen rolled around, and then he insisted on both of us getting up and cleaning up. In the bathroom, I held still while he plied a washrag over my face, wiping off any remnants of the hot white come loads that he had squirted on me. That third time, he asked if he could shoot it on my face, and I said yes and leaned over, he only got a little of it on me, but I felt really proud of the feel of that. I mentioned how little there was, and he explained that he had to rest between times to make a whole lot like that first time. "That first time, I hadn't let any of it go in about...hmm, three days, I guess. So there was a bunch of it."

"There sure was!" I agreed heartily.

"But after that first one, I didn't have a whole lot. The body has to make more. Then I can shoot it again like that first time."

"Maybe tomorrow?" I asked as he worked the washrag on himself. He wasn't dirty, but he was sort of sweaty and wanted to wash that off himself.

About the time he dried his face and hands and had adjusted his clothing to where he looked pretty much like he had when I had first opened my door, and I had put on some shorts and a t-shirt, that was when I heard Mom's car pull up.

I ran out to meet her. "Mommy, Mommy, Mr. Skyler's here, my teacher from school!" I said. "He's been waiting with me for hours for you to get home."

Mom was concerned about that, and I only then remembered I wasn't supposed to let anyone know I was sitting home alone. "I've been trying to get him a sitter." she explained to my teacher apologetically. "But Keith's a good boy and he hasn't gotten into any trouble and, well, we needed the money more for other things."

"It isn't good for a child to be alone a lot." Mr. Skyler said. "And in a home that...well, needs some housework done."

"I'm doing the best I can!" Mom kind of exploded. "It's not easy working full-time and then coming home to a young boy. He's too young to help out, it'll get better when he's a little older. And I am looking for a sitter for him."

"You don't have to." Mr. Skyler said. "I'll be happy to watch Keith each day after school. He can come home with me, and I'll tutor him until six o'clock and then bring him home."

"Really?" I said, amazed at this offer. "Every day?"

"Sure." Mr. Skyler said. "Actually, I had come to talk to you because Keith's grades are slipping, he's down a whole grade point so far. I see now it's because his father isn't home and Keith is left alone a good deal. I'm sure if Keith has someone with him after school, he'll do much better."

"Yes, he would." Mom said in relief. "I couldn't pay you much for sitting him...."

"No, no, it'd be my pleasure." Mr. Skyler said. "My problem is the opposite of yours, I get home after work and I don't have anything to do."

"I will if I come home with you." I snickered. "You and me will have a lot to do."

"A lot of studying." Mr. Skyler clarified, though of course I wasn't thinking that at all. "In fact, why don't I take him this weekend, I understand you work, you can take the opportunity to clean the house without him in your way and take care of the worst of this...situation."

"Every weekend." I said quickly. "Mom works every weekend, and it's all day!"

"I get Mondays and Tuesdays off." Mom clarified. "They need me on weekends."

"We'll see." Mr. Skyler said. "I'll bring Keith home from school tomorrow long enough to pack a few of his things and that'll give you until Monday night to take care of the house. Or maybe he could stay with me until Tuesday night instead, give you two full days, so you can rest as well as clean up the house?"

Mom's only look was one of relief. She was worked awful hard, after all. "If you don't mind, Mr. Skyler, I certainly could use a break from motherhood. Two whole days to myself would be like having a mini-vacation!"

"So from tomorrow until Tuesday night." Mr. Skyler said. "Keith will be all mine."

"All yours, Mr. Skyler." my mother agreed.

"Yeah." I chimed in. "All yours."

THE END

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