NOTICE: If you are under 18 or under the age where the government in your region permits the reading of adult materials, then please leave now. The following story is only intended for adult audiences who are permitted by law to read fictional accounts of relationships between adults. In this case the characters are both adult and minors, mostly male with male, and involve sexual encounters of a variety of types. If you are offended by man to man sex or by stories involving men with minors, then please read no further.
The following story is pure fiction. Any relationship between the characters and incidents of this story and real life are purely coincidental. Nothing here ever happened and none of these people ever existed. GOT IT? This story is c copyrighted by Jon Thomas (c 2004)
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< TIMMY'S HARMONY LESSONS It was the first day of the semester, and I was nervous as usual. You would think that after 20 years of teaching college music I would be over the first day jitters. But I'm not. First off, I always worry about the first impression I will make. I don't want the students to drop my class. Secondly, I'm afraid I'll get caught. You see, when you're a teacher, you're not permitted to be gay, even in college. And each class always seems to have at least one young guy sitting there just waiting for me to drool all over and get myself caught. Today was to be no exception. By the way, I'm Jonathan Harvey, and I'm 45 years old. I'm 5'9", light brown hair where it hasn't fallen out or gone gray, about 160 pounds, and so far back in the closet that you would need a search party to find me. I've known I was gay since I was in high school, but I got married anyway and had kids and did all the "normal" stuff my family expected. My happiness was not the point. My family had to be happy. And that transferred from my single mom and sister to my wife and kids. In the meantime, in my heart of hearts, I'm only attracted to guys - - young guys at that. It was 7:55 a.m., first period of the day at Valley College. It was a gorgeous fall day, and the students were nervously coming into the room and finding seats. Because this is a community college, we have students of all ages. Some are older students coming back to school. Some are just out of high school getting started on their college careers. And a few select students are actually still in high school, and they are being allowed to take a few college courses to get a head start. I was setting up the board with the usual introductory information about the class name, section number, my name, and all that, when I noticed someone out of the corner of my left eye. I didn't look at first, intent on getting my material on the board, when he gave a little cough. I looked over and there was the cutest blonde kid I'd ever seen. He had blue eyes, rosy cheeks, "granny" glasses, and a little grin that made my heart stop dead. He was my height, and probably about 140 pounds. His build was a little small, but he had a round face and a little round tummy. Of course my eyes also immediately noticed he filled-out his shorts very well in front too. "Can I help you?" was all I could get out. He blushed a tad but looked right at me and said, "I just want to make sure I'm in the right room. I'm here for Mr. Harvey's Music Theory class. Is this it?" "Just come into my office and take your clothes off," was what I wanted to say. However, what I actually got out was, "You're in the right place. Just grab a seat and we'll get started in a second." I was mesmerized. He was actually not like an Adonis or anything. He was a cross between a sweet looking kid and a young man. I watched him walk to a seat right in the front, moving his round little but in a way that made me want to tackle him right there. Class began with the usual opening speech about how tough the class was going to be, and how they were responsible for their own progress. I would lead them, but it was up to them to learn. Blah! Blah! Blah! When I came time to take roll, I carefully watched to see who answered to each name so I would be sure to catch my young blonde kid's name. Timothy Michaels. "Oh Timmy, do I hope you need a lot of office time!" was my only thought. As the first lecture came to a close, I reminded them all to be sure and buy their books and read chapter one for Wednesday. Before I could stop myself, I found my self adding, "By the way, would Timothy Michaels please stop by right after class." I was shocked that I had done that. The last thing I need is to have anyone catch me making a pass at this kid. But I had done it, and now I had to think of something to say so he wouldn't be suspicious. As the room cleared and Tim waited in front of me, I made buys work of getting my things gathered up and ready to leave. I purposely didn't look up so he couldn't catch my eye, but my peripheral vision revealed that he was very nervous waiting. As the last student left he room, I looked up slowly and smiled at Tim. He was scared, and it was very obvious. Feeling badly that I had put him on the spot I smiled right away. "Just relax Mr. Michaels. You look terrified of me. Please don't be. I just had a couple of . . . uh . . well . . you know . . . questions. Yes. Right. I noticed you have a code by your name on the roll, which means you are actually a high school student. Is that right? I mean, are you really in high school?" Looking even more tense, his eyes began to get a little glisten as if he was going to cry and he burst out full speed, "Well, yes I am in high school but you'll see I'm real smart in music and I know a lot of things already and I've been writing songs for three years and all my friends say I'm good and I just really want to take your class because everyone says you're the best theory teacher around and it would kill me if you didn't let me take. . ." "Whoa there, son," I said interrupting the eruption of volcanic emotion pouring out of this kid. "It's nothing like that." You're already approved for enrollment here, and I have no intention of removing you from my class. I just like to know who the high school kids are because they sometimes need extra help, since they're not used to college level classes. Just relax a little. Take a deep breath. I mean it. Nice and slow in and blow out hard." Yeah. Hard like me! Oh I'm bad! Tim took a breath and as he blew it out I could see him relax just a little. "Son, do you have another class now?" I asked. What was I doing? I had to get hold of myself. "No sir," he replied. "The high school doesn't start until next week, so I'm free now." "Well, if you have a sec, why not come by my office so we can have a little chat. I'd like to get to know a little bit about you, if you don't mind," I offered. "Sure. How do I find it?" he asked. I smiled and said, "Just follow me." In my head the rest of what I said was ". . . into my web." I was really scaring myself. I felt that familiar stirring in my pants, and prayed "junior" would behave until I could sit down behind my desk. Fortunately, my office was a short walk up the stairs to the next building. Tim followed me to my door. He offered to hold my books while I dug in my pocket for my keys. I had done this so many times that I could juggle the things in my sleep, yet I heard myself say, "Oh thanks. That would be great." Where did that come from? As he took my books his hand brushed mine, and I felt electricity shoot through my entire body. He jumped a little, and I could tell he had felt something. Must have been static. I mean what could this 17 or 18 year old kid get from touching a 45 year old man? I got the door open and went inside. Tim followed and offered my books back. Afraid to touch him again I just nodded toward my desk, where he placed them gently. I then nodded toward a seat while I went back and closed my office door. We were now alone in my office, where there are no windows except for the one over my desk on the wall, and that looks out on the river where nobody can look back in. Senior faculty members do get a few perks. I sat down behind my desk and looked right at Tim. He looked right back with a shy grin. "So Mr. Michaels . . . " but he interrupted. "Tim, please." "Okay, Tim, tell me about why you're here. What year are you in high school? How old are you? Why are you in college music theory? And finally, why enroll in my section? I'm known as the toughest theory teacher here." "Well, Mr. Harvey, sir, um, I mean, I'm a junior at Westside High, I'm 16, I've been writing songs for years, and I've heard you're the best, and I think I deserve the best." He obviously had a sound ego. "I live with my folks, but they don't have much use for music. I need a mentor and a teacher. I have an older friend who was a student of yours." Here he got a twinkle in his eye that worried me. "I think you remember Jack Henson, don't you?" I froze. Jack had been a student of mine about three years ago. Jack was a moderately talented musician who was gay and looking for a gay role model and teacher. He spotted me, somehow, and one day in my office he laid his cards on the table. He was over 21, but I told him we could not have a relationship while he was enrolled in my classes. "That can be arranged," he said, and he left my office. Thirty minutes later he came back to my office. He entered, closed the door and pushed the lock button. He came to my desk, placed his class withdrawal receipt on my desk, got on his knees in front of me and placed his hands in my crotch. He looked right in my eyes and said, "Now that we have that straight, it's about time you got to know just how talented I am." With that, he unzipped my pants and before I knew what was happening I was being sent to heaven by his very talented mouth. "How do you know Jack, Tim?" I asked, trying to keep the shake out of my voice. "Oh, he and I messed around a lot before he went off to the university," he said with that twinkle in his eye and crooked little grin of his. He's the one who told me how much you have to teach me about music and, well, you know, maybe other stuff," his voice faded a little on that last part. "But, I'm not dropping out of your class, no mater what," he said with more force. "I think we can do each other a lot of good, so I'm asking you to be my teacher for the next few years. Are you up' for that?" he said with a peculiar emphasis on the work "up." "Well now," I stammered, "I'm not sure exactly what you mean here, but . . . " He stopped me. He stood up and came around the desk to me slowly. He pushed my chair back from my desk and gently sat down on my leg. He looked into my eyes and said in almost a whisper, "Mr. Harvey. When I came here today I came with the intent of seducing you so I could have some hot sex. In just the few minutes we've been together, I feel something very strange. It's like a connection or something. I feel it in my stomach, and in my chest. Your face is so kind, and your eyes are so clear and beautiful. It's like, you so old . . " he stammered and tried to stop. I immediately began to look shocked, but couldn't stop laughing. He looked hurt and afraid and started to stand up. "NO. NO. No that's not what I mean," he said all flustered. "What I mean is, I'm 16, and you're lots older." I grinned again but pulled him back to my leg. "Oh,. I'm just fucking this up," he was almost crying. "In just a few minutes I'm feeling things for you I never felt before. You're a grown man and I'm a kid. I'm not supposed to fall for a guy like you. I'm supposed to fuck you, get what I can and then move on. Only, I don't want to fuck you. I mean, well, I do want to have sex with you, but it's because I feel this strong pull to you. And now I'm fucking this up so bad and I'm going to lose the chance to be your friend." I put my hand on Tim's shoulder and said, "Calm down, Tim. Calm down. You're not fucking anything up.' I don't understand how a few minutes can do this, but I'm feeling the same intense attraction to you. I don't know if its lust for a young stallion, or something more real. I want you as my friend. Oh I want so much more. But you're only 16. My life could be ruined." With that he looked in my eyes, tears brimming over the bottom of his eyelids. He leaned into me gently, wrapped his arms around me, and with the gentlest of touches pressed his lips to mine. We must have been an obscene picture. Here is this beautiful young blonde boy in a passionate kiss and embrace with a 45 year old man. Yet it felt so right. Tim back away and looked in my eyes. His hand slowly moved down my chest to my crotch, and he gently began to massage my throbbing manhood and he said, "Let me show you that I'm not just a kid," and he again was kissing me with his tongue deep in my throat, his hand on my pounding cock, and his own boy/man hood pressing into me. Well, is it worth writing any more? I've
never written a story before. Is it too bizarre? If enough people tell me they like it, I'll write more. E-mail me at jon1717@hotmail.com.