“Oh my god,” my teacher Mr. Federer marveled, staring down at his big cock as it disappeared down my throat, his balls mashed against my chin, his bare ass on the edge of his desk. “The rumors about you are true.”
Mr. Federer was the hottest teacher at my high school, and the youngest at just 23 years old. His Abercrombie good looks, athletic body, scruffy beard, stormy eyes, and killer smile made him popular with every girl in the school—and us gay guys, too. The icing on the cake was that he was allegedly hung like fuck.
He was called Federer the Predator behind his back, due to rumors of frequent hookups with female students.
The age of consent in the state was 16, and Mr. Federer exploited it. Absent a complaint to the school board, which never happened, our school became his own private cherry-picking farm.
The tale of him and three cheerleaders in the faculty lounge after hours was legendary. As was the one about him and the captain of the girls lacrosse team in the girls locker room. And when student body president Mandy Shields had to be out of school for several months without explanation, everyone suspected Mr. Federer was the baby daddy.
Of course, none of it could be proven, it was all just hearsay. The school administration was powerless to do anything about Mr. Federer because no female student ever complained about him. And why would they? His big cock was a mountain that every girl in school wanted to climb. Myself, included.
My only issue with Mr. Federer was that he didn’t give gay guys like me so much as a glance. I wanted my fair chance with his big cock, too. Straight guys can be so unfair at times.
My other issue with Mr. Federer was that I was flunking his World History class. Not only did it mean I wouldn’t graduate, I would also have to attend summer school if I wanted my diploma.
But I had a plan, a bit of a bargain that I hoped to strike with Mr. Federer. If he gave me a passing grade—all I needed was a D in his class—I would suck his big dick.
I know what you’re thinking—no straight guy is going to give up his cock to a gay dude that easily. But Federer the Predator was no average straight guy. He was a male whore who lived for sex, wanting to get his big dick in a warm hole as often as possible. It doesn’t take much to lure a guy like him to the dark side.
And so I approached Mr. Federer after school, just as he was starting to erase his whiteboard, preparing to leave for the day. He gave me an exasperated look as I entered his classroom and closed the door behind me.
“Braxton, if you’re here to complain about your grade,” he sneered, “I don’t want to hear it.”
“But I’m at risk of not graduating if you don’t pass me,” I explained. “Can’t you give me some extra credit?”
“Read your syllabus,” he snapped. “I don’t give out extra credit.”
“What if—what if I sucked your dick?” I offered, seeing no need to beat around the bush.
“Suck my dick?” he gasped, taken aback.
“Yeah,” I doubled down. “The rumor around school is that you have no problem having sex with students—female students, that is.”
“Is that what you’ve heard?” he laughed, a devious look upon his face. “Well I’ve heard rumors about you, too, Braxton.”
“Coach Nichols told me he busted you doing a bit of sword swallowing under the bleachers during lunch,” Mr. Federer accused. “He apparently witnessed you taking Tayvon Washington’s big one to the balls.”
“Yeah, I took Tayvon to the balls,” I admitted. “His cock is the size of my arm.”
“Impressive,” Mr. Federer replied, an eyebrow raised. “I must say I’m intrigued by your—uh—skill.”
“Let me suck you,” I begged. “If you’ll just—“
“Shut the fuck up and lock that door,” he cut me off, unzipping his fly. “We need to make this quick. We’ve got maybe ten minutes before the janitor comes through here to collect trash.”
Obediently, I raced to the door and locked the deadbolt. Turning around, my jaw nearly dropped as I witnessed Mr. Federer stripping off his clothes, perching himself at the edge of his desk, his naked body on full display, his big cock hanging between his legs. Jesus, he was fucking hot.
“Like what you see?” he taunted, gripping his hard nine-incher in one fist, slapping it against his open palm. “I’ve got a three-day load in these balls for you.”
Like a famished cocksucker, I dropped to my knees before Mr. Federer. With my hands resting on his knees, I went in for the kill.
“Oh my god,” he marveled, staring down at his big cock as it disappeared down my throat, his balls mashed against my chin. “The rumors about you are true.”
“Fuck, you’ve got a big one,” I exclaimed, coming up for air, a strand of saliva stringing from my lips to his cock.
“Glad you like it,” he winked, slapping it against my cheek. “Now suck this big fuckin’ dick.”
Locking my lips around his girthy shaft, I began to bob up and down on that big tool, my tongue coating every inch, balls to tip, as Mr. Federer moaned in response. His hands moved to the back of my head, caressing my hair at the nape of my neck.
“Fuuuuck, you can suck a dick,” he exhaled. “Ain’t no bitch has ever sucked me this good.”
I was just getting started. Reaching around and gripping his meaty ass in my hands, I pulled him into me, joining us together like Siamese twins connected at his cock. Sucking him ravenously, his fat cock head abused my tonsils, his balls slapped my chin. My neck worked like a piston, rapidly moving up and down his shaft, working out that nut, milking his balls dry.
“How the fuck are you doing that?” he marveled as I went to town on that big cock, my mouth transforming into the best pussy he’d ever had. Removing my hands from his ass, I massaged his balls as he leaned back further on the desk, his ass slightly raised, his furry hole exposed.
And then I went for it. Coming up for a quick breath, I licked my index finger and shoved it up his ass. His legs went stiff, reacting to the sudden invasion, but he didn’t stop me. He welcomed the ass play like the dirty straight boy I suspected him to be. Returning to his cock, I sucked him while probing for his prostate.
“HOLY FUCK,” he gasped, when I found that knobby cum button buried inside him. With the same pace, I continued to suck him as I applied steady, rhythmic pressure to his prostate. In response, his cock grew impossibly hard—ready to cut diamonds.
“Fuuuck,” he moaned while I sucked his big dick and finger fucked his furry hole simultaneously. His balls began to tighten, hugging his body. The dam was about to burst.
“Oh SHIT—If you keep doing that,” he cried, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna—OH FUCK—YEAH—SHIT.”
A massive load filled my mouth as his cock throbbed over and over again, his sphincter gripping my finger in perfect synch with his pulsing cock. I strained to swallow all of his load, that creamy elixir coating my tongue, flying down my throat. Mr. Federer grabbed my head, holding on for dear life as his body convulsed in euphoric ecstasy.
When the throbbing ceased, when his balls were emptied, I released Mr. Federer’s cock, extracting my finger from his ass at the same time. He fell back on the desk, bracing himself just before his head smacked against the hard surface.
“Jesus Christ, you can suck a dick,” he exhaled, finally catching his breath. Sitting up, he smiled at me, his cum and saliva smeared across my mouth and chin. “That was not only the best dick suck I’ve ever had—it was quite possible the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Fuck, dude.”
“Thanks,” I smiled bashfully. “I’m glad you liked it. Does this mean you’ll give me a passing grade in your class?”
Mr. Federer sat upright, his hairy legs hanging off the edge of the desk, a drop of cum dangling from his spent cock. Cocking his head, he looked at me quizzically.
“I never said I’d pass you, Braxton,” he finally spoke.
“But—but I just sucked you off,” I protested.
“So what?” he laughed. “You sucked me off because you wanted this big cock—wanted to suck down my load. You got what you came for.”
“Yeah,” I acknowledged. “But I also sucked your dick so you’d give me a good grade.”
“I don’t give out good grades for sexual favors,” he smirked. “Shit, half the bitches in this school would have straight A’s if that was the case.”
“But if I don’t pass your class, I won’t graduate,” I pleaded. “I’m gonna have to go to summer school.”
“Fine by me,” Mr. Federer laughed. “I’m teaching summer school. And you’re the only student needing to repeat my World History class, so it’ll just be you and me all summer.”
“Yeah,” he smiled deviously. “So I’d suggest you invest in a good pair of knee pads. You’re gonna need them.”
Stories are fiction and intended for readers 18 and up. All characters are assumed to be legal, consenting adults.
