A gay adult story: Joey's First Detention by MightBeRealz ,
Comments welcome. Enjoy!
Part 2: Joey’s Detention – Day 1Friday
The 3 o’clock bell rang as Joey waited anxiously in the shop classroom for Mr. Brennan to appear for Joey’s fist detention. As a senior, Joey was dismissed everyday at 11 am on a workstudy program. He had taken that opportunity to drive home and get himself prepped for later that afternoon.
—
Earlier, Joey’s House
He showered, making sure to wash his still sore ass thoroughly, taking his time to caress and probe every crack and opening with gentle, soapy fingers. As he did so, Joey groaned and pushed himself against the shower wall, spreading his round, firm ass cheeks and beginning to toy with his fuckhole, his small dick responding to the ministrations and rising to it’s full 4.5″ length, his large testicles making it look even smaller than it was.
Knowing that it would take more than a single digit to get himself off, Joey forced himself to stop masturbating and rinsed the soap from his milky body, his dick remaining hard as he turned off the shower, stepped out, and walked naked to his bedroom.
His parents weren’t home yet, and his little brother was still in school, so Joey remained naked as he brought his CD’s out to the living room and put in a pop mix, sashaying back to his own room as the first notes of ‘Barbie Girl’ by Aqua started playing.
“I’m a barbie girl, in a barbie woo-oorld!” he sang as he opened his closet and grabbed a pre-packaged enema from it, removing it from the box and throwing the empty into a trash can already overflowing with enema boxes.
Joey paused as the thrown box bounced off of the rim of the can and fell to the floor, calculating how much money he had spent trying to seduce Mr. Brennan as it richoted into the closet. “$300, easy,” he says aloud, and at the thought of his teacher, his knees grow weak and his asshole flexes hungrily remembering Brennan’s 8.5″ cock filling him to the hilt. Shaking his head, Joey mutters, “Worth every penny,” and walks to the living room.
Getting on his knees, he removes the protective cover, extends the tip, and inserts the enema into his anus. Bending over so that his well-built ass is pointed skyward, he pumps the saline solution into his bruised fuckhole and waits, wiggling his ass back and forth as he does so to facilitate the cleansing process.
After several minutes, and secretly hoping that a delivery man would see him and decide he needed a piece of that white ass, Joey reluctantly stood up and walked swiftly to the bathroom, sitting on the toilet and emptying himself of any nasty surprises.
Standing and inspecting his ass in the full-length mirror his mom had installed in the bathroom, he smiled, satisfied with his handiwork. Turning, Joey ran his hands down his smooth chest and flat stomach, his pubic mound just as hairless and smooth. Running them back to his hips and further to the round, full globes of his ass, Joey smacks each globe and grins wolfishly.
Today, he thinks, I’m gonna ride that prick like a champion.
Sashaying to his parents room as David Bowie’s ‘Boys keep Swinging’ starts up, Joey opens his mother’s dresser and removes a pair of bikini-cut underwear from the top drawer. Gold ties with a green triangle that barely covered his mom’s pussy when they went to the beach last summer. It was his favorite from her collection, and today he was gonna wear it to fuck his teacher again. He put it in place and tied the sides, then adjusted the fabric so that his tiny cock was covered while leaving his ballsack bisected and hanging obscenely from between his legs.
“When you’re a boy, other boys check you out,” he sings under his breath as he lifts himself off of the ground with the ball of each foot to test the fit of the bikini bottom.
Satisfied, Joey next removed a matching top from the same drawer, tied the top strap that goes over the neck, and then placed it over his head, making sure to flip his long blonde hair over the golden strap before catching and tying the rear strings together and adjusting the green triangular nipple covers so that his were also covered.
Looking in the mirror over his mother’s dresser, joey nodded in satisfaction as he turned to the left and then the right, each time protruding his butt out to admire the effect.
“Perfect.”
He purrs as he runs his hands once more over his hair, then turns out of his mother’s room and walks down the hallway into his own. Opening his closet, Joey removes a purple long sleeve shirt and pulls it on carefully, the bruising from Mr. Brennan’s rough grip still visible on his biceps. He then pulls on a dark blue t-shirt over top of the long sleeved shirt, followed by a pair of tight capris over his voluptuous deriere.
Again preening, this time in the mirror behind his own door, Joey again walks with confidence to his mother’s room, this time sitting down at her makeup table.
Queen’s ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ begins to play as Joey carefully selects a base and puts a light coating on, just enough to soften his features and make them a bit more feminine. Making a pouty kissy face at the mirror, Joey then selects a lipstick with a slightly darker shade than his own lips and skillfully applies it to match his exact lipline.
Making a pouty face at the mirror again, he smiles seductively and reaches for the eye shadow, applying some to his lashes. As he admires his now very pretty face in the mirror, the sound of an early 2000’s cellphone goes off, and Joey quickly moves to his bedroom and removes his candybar style cell from his backpack to check the caller ID.
School flashes across the screen.
His heart skips a beat and his belly flutters with a million fuzzy wings as he hits the send button to answer.
Nervous, “Hello?”
A strong male voice from the other line, Mr. Brennan’s, “Hello, Mr. Joey Stevens?”
“Yes, this is he.”
“I’m just calling to remind you of your detention at 3:15 today, in the shop room,” a husky note entered Mr. Brennan’s voice as his breathing could be heard over the phone. Was he masturbating? The thought made Joey’s cock jump to attention and caused his asshole to flex.
“I remember, sir,” now it was Joey’s turn to put sex into his voice.
Mr. Brennan’s breath quickened as Joey said sir, and soon he was grunting into the mouthpiece quietly as Joey planted a kiss on the receiver and hung up the phone.
“Later, Teach.”
Joey grabs a pair of Converse high heels and puts them in his bag along with his cellphone, then puts on his tennis shoes, grabs his CD and the CD case, and heads out of his house, ready for school.
—
School, The Now
As the minute hand moves over the fifteen on the wall clock in the shop room, Mr. Brennan walks through the door. He stops as he catches sight of Joey, in his mother’s green and gold bikini and standing in the center of the shop, the woodpress directly behind him and strewn with his clothes.
He was wearing the heels, so he stood as tall as Mr. Brennan now. His long blonde hair was pulled into two pom-pom like pigtails at the top of his head, and his balls were protruding from his thighs again, the outline of his miniscule penis clearly visible in the fabric of the too-small green bikini bottom, rock hard with a wet spot at the tip.
“Sir, I’m ready for my punishment.”
Mr. Brennan caught himself staring and moved quickly into the room, locking the door behind him and turning off the light lest they be seen. Walking to his desk, he loosens and undoes his tie and beckons Joey forward.
Joey takes his time walking to the desk as Mr. Brennan disrobes, choosing to enjoy the sight of his husky shop teacher giving him a private, albeit brief, strip show. His muscular upper body was covered in hair, only the sides of his torso, hips, and the undersides of his forearms being free from the fuzz. His cock was half hard and growing by the minute between his muscular thighs, the weight pulling it downward.
Mr. Brennan reaches down into his desk and pulls out a jar of vasoline as Joey finishes walking up to the desk, sliding his ass onto the corner and crossing his legs as Mr. Brennan puts the vasoline down on top of his gtrade sheets and circles him, extending his arm to run his hand over Joey’s thighs, ass and crotch, each slide of his fingers eliciting a slight shake from him.
Gripping the back of Joey’s neck, the shop teacher forces his face to his own and passionetly kisses him, shoving his tongue deep into his mouth as his hands explore Joey’s bikini-clad form. Joey grips his teacher’s body with all of his limbs, his legs straddling Brennan around the waist as his hands grope the muscular shoulders and back of the burly man, his naked and hairy flesh tight beneath his clutching digits.
Mr. Brennan lifts Joey in his arms, grasping each pert ass cheek in his palms as he turns and sits on his desk, placing Joey on his lap facing him, Brennan’s erect cock wedged between the round globes of Joey’s posterior. By now Joey’s bikini bottoms were scrunched into his ass cheeks and rubbing painfully on the tip of his cock. Squirming from the discomfort, Joey reaches down and unties the left side, the fabric falling away as his hips grind into the monster prick underneath him.
Feeling the fabric sliding off of his young fucktoy’s body, Mr. Brennan lifts Joey up with one hand, causing Joey to squeal in surprise and admiration, and positions his cock head directly at the entrance to the well-used fuckhole so very recently exposed to the free air. Keeping Joey suspended, Mr. Brennan grabs the vasoline jar and tries to untwist it with one hand, cursing as he keeps flubbing his grip on the thing. Joey giggles and reaches down, removing it from his fist and opening it.
“Let me get that for you.” The words exit his throat without seeming to touch his lips, audible as a soft purr as Joey spoons a liberal amount of greasy-yellow lube from the container onto two digits and slathers it onto Mr. Brennan’s dick with his right hand, his left gripping his teacher’s shoulder to steady himself.
Grunting, Mr. Brennan squeezes the base of his cock with his free hand and slides his fist up and down his shaft a few times before moving it up to Joey’s asshole and sliding two fingers deep into his love tunnel, making Joey grunt and push down hard onto the invaders. Satisfied that he was properly prepped for the afternoon’s fun, he lowers Joey back onto his lap while simultaneously repositioning and inserting his dick head into Joey’s clenching fuckhole.
“Oohh, FUCK!” screams Joey, causing Mr. Brennan to slap his hand hard across his mouth, the sound of it reverberating around the shop room as Joey’s now tense body slowly slips down Mr. Brennan’s fuckstick inch by glorious inch.
“Mmhhff,” Joey exhales as the base of Mr. Brennan’s cock makes contact with the pillowy cushions of his ass, the Teacher’s hand still gripped firmly over Joey’s mouth.
Hands reaching behind him and placed on either of Mr. Brennan’s knees, Joey begins to push himself upward a few inches as his bowels clench over and over around the thick cock inside him. Once his ass no longer rests on thigh, Joey allows himself to fall back down hard, the lovestick poking his insides rubbing his prostate and causing him to shudder involuntarily as he groans loudly. Repeating the process, Joey begins to fuck his teacher slowly.
As he picks up his pace, Joey feels Mr. Brennan’s hand leave his mouth for a moment and hears the sound of a drawer being opened and closed. Soon, the skirt of his cheerleader outfit is rudely shoved into his mouth. The normal taste and smell of cotton fabric permeates Joey’s senses, as well as the familiar but new essence of Mr. Brennan’s come.
‘Oh my God, He was jacking off into my skirt while he was on the phone earlier!’ The thought sends Joey over the edge and he starts to come, his balls tightening and his cock flaring as the first spurt of come fires up and outward, landing on Mr. Brennan’s chin, cheek, and chest. Shaking and sweating as the next burst hits his teacher on the chest, Joey goes limp and falls back down onto the full length of cock, his ass muscles squeezing his colon in rhythmic waves as his body rests, shuddering, on Mr. Brennan’s chest.
The next half dozen spurts of come shoot between Mr. Brennan’s hairy stomach and Joey’s heaving chest. Smiling at the top of Joey’s bobtailed head, he lefts the seniors limp form and moves him onto the woodpress, his 8.5″ cock wedged firmly in Joey’s still flexing asshole.
Satisfied that his fuckboi is steady, Mr. Brennan begins fucking him roughly, sliding his large fuckstick into Joey’s bowels to the hilt with every thrust as Joey’s legs wrapped themselves around his hips and tightened. Whimpers came from around the edges of the cheerleader skirt still shoved into Joey’s mouth as the slap-slap-slap of flesh on flesh echoed around the shopclass, Mr. Brennan’s grunts softly making a counterpoint to each mewl and squeal.
As the wooden legs of the woodpress began to rock ever so slightly from the force of the shop teacher’s fucking, Joey’s toes curled and his back arched upward as he suddenly and forcefully came, his jizz arcing up and out to land on his own face, hot and sticky. Grunts and half-muffled screams sounded from the skirt-stuffed mouth of Joey before he spat it out to moan loudly in freedom.
The contractions from Joey’s asshole were too much for Mr. Brennan, whose dick suddenly swelled and erupted, sending millions of sperm deep into Joey’s ass as Mr. Brennan held their hips together, leaned down, and began to kiss and suck Joey’s face, slurping up the boys come as he did so, Joey still coming and coating their torsos with even more of the sticky white substance.
They pressed themselves together for what felt like an eternity but was actually closer to several minutes before pulling apart, the soft -plop- of Mr. Brennan’s cock as it slid out of Joey’s asshole sounding like a cork going off. They both looked at each other and then laughed at the absurdity of the noise and their position, Mr. Brennan moving towards the cleanup station and throwing Joey a washrag before cleaning himself up with another, then moving to the woodpress and using a fresh handtowel to wipe it down.
Getting dressed, Mr. Brennan handed Joey his cheerleader uniform and escorted him out of the building and to their respective cars, Joey hoping behind the wheel of his ’96 Honda Civic and winking at Mr. Brennan before screeching off towards home.
As Joey turned out of the parking lot and onto the road home, his cell rang again, the 8-bit sounds barely audible over Portishead’s Glory Box playing over the sound system.
“Heya!” Joey exclaimed into the mouthpiece as he answered the phone.
A rough voice came from the earpiece, distorted somewhat, “I saw you and Mr. Brennan today. If you don’t want anyone to know about you and he, come to the Oyster Bar alone, tomorrow at midnight. Wear your cheer outfit.”
The mysterious man hung up, leaving Joey breathless.
‘Who was this guy? What did he expect him to do? And the Oyster Bar? Wasn’t that the local gay club?’ A smile played across Joey’s lips as the thought of what was in store for him tomorrow night sent a thrill of pleasure down his spine.
‘Well, let’s see where this takes me…’
To Be Continued…