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Grade-A-Sex Deal Copyright © 2012 Erica Pike

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Acknowledgements

I want to thank my beta readers and critique partners: Savannah Chase, Thorny, my personal

cheerleader NJ Nielsen, and Matthew Darringer (for challenging me to write “angry sex” and

for being my go-to guy). Big thanks to my readers for their encouraging words and to the

awesome girls at No Boundaries Press. Special thanks go to the editor for this piece – you

rock!

To my sons, even though you’ll never ever get to read anything by me that has adult content: I

love you, little cuddle-bears. Also to my parents who give me full support for writing what I

write: I love you!

Erica Pike

Throughout college I’m known as the bastard, but instead of taking offence I gloat

every time I hear it. My job sucks so badly I go out of my way to make life hard for my

students. Take now, for instance: I sit in my cramped office with a thick volume of Webster’s

Dictionary to try to create the most difficult wording of next week’s final exam questions.

Those kids, in grown-up bodies, will be squirming in their seats while they try to figure out

what each question means. The best part is that my class isn’t even an English class; it’s

Macroeconomics. Boring theories about economic behavior and how bad decision making can

ruin a whole nation, even lead to a world-wide financial catastrophe. It may sound exciting

but one look at the formulas and the first years start sweating.

I wasn’t always so nasty. Two years ago there was a wife, two kids, and a managing

position at a successful meat production company. There was also a two story house with a

pool, extensive garden, and two cars. Hell, we even had a dog. But it blew up in my face

when I couldn’t live with the illusion anymore and came out to my wife. I was so sure she’d

support me, her being my best friend and all.

I sit back in my squeaky chair and look over the disarray on my desk. Paper stacks,

pens, ancient computer with a tube screen and a mouse that will only work with every other

click. Books, reading glasses, coins, and…

I pick up the used condom wrapper and toss it in the bin. Then I glare at the open

window with a shudder, rubbing my arms vigorously. Swallowing down the oily liquid of

coffee puts a grimace on my face, but – as is the case with the open window – I can’t be

bothered to stand up to fetch a new cup. To get new coffee means passing a bunch of lovey-

dovey students making out in places they think no one can see them.

Thank God, the finals are approaching. With classes over, I won’t have to watch the

oblivious faces as I lull my students to sleep in a stuffy auditorium. The only reason they

chose to study business is because they think they’ll be able to make a lot of money. Too bad

for them only a handful will. The rest will get married, have kids way too soon, and struggle

all their lives trying to make ends meet. Then they’ll have a breakdown halfway through life

when they realize they should have spent their college years studying something they’re

actually interested in as opposed to something that held the unfulfilled promise of making

them rich. The drawback of exams for me is that I’ll get the whole summer to look forward to

new, equally airheaded students for next semester. It’s like an endless cycle of my own

personal hell.

A light knock on the door brings me out of my misery. The only perk of this job is

about to enter, and perky he is indeed.

Troy Anderson pokes his beautiful face into my office, swings his slim, athletic body

inside and locks the door behind him.

“Come in,” I say calmly to the young kid who only ever wears skin-tight jeans and

sleeveless tops. My guess is that he does it just to tease me. I can’t take my eyes off his thin

waist and nicely toned biceps and whenever he catches me ogling, he shoots me a smirk.

“What can I do for you, Troy?”

“You can give me an A on that exam you’re making,” Troy replies in his low,

seductive voice. His blue eyes scan the table in front of me. Out of habit I pull a folder over

my notes.

“And why would I do that?” I ask in my monotone teaching voice.

Troy’s full lips quirk into a smirk. “Because we have a deal.”

He walks to my desk and traces the edge with a long finger. My eyes follow that

finger where it slides off the wood and lands on his growing bulge.

“The deal’s off,” I state matter-of-factly.

An old magazine lies on top of my screen. I grab it and pretend to sink my

consciousness in the wonders of the South-American rainforests while everything within me

is fantasizing about what he keeps hidden in those jeans.

“No way,” Troy says with a confident smile in his voice. “I haven’t been coming to

see you every week for you to bail out now. The exam is next week.”

I count down a full minute before I lower the magazine to answer. “I’m very well

aware of that, Mr. Anderson, but you didn’t show up last Monday night. You broke the deal.”

“Oh come on, I was studying,” he says and for the first time I hear a crack in his

resolve. It surprises me so much that my eyes fly up to meet his. That gorgeous, sandy-blond

hair half covers one of his blue eyes and sweeps the curve of his neck. His slender jaw flexes

on his tanned face as he swallows.

“What do you propose?” I ask calmly, trying hard not to reveal how much he affects

me. His mere presence is enough to have me jumping hoops. Yes, we do have a grade-A-sex

deal, but the more we meet the more I like having him around.

He resumes his calm nature, leaning over the end of the desk with his perky little ass

in the air. “Well, I’m here now. You can do me twice.”

He has my undivided attention for a few seconds before I toss away the magazine,

grab a pen and start flicking through the Webster’s.

“Oh come on,” he murmurs, edging himself a little farther towards me. “I know you

have other guys knocking on your door every night. It’s not like you didn’t have anyone to

play with. How many guys have you fucked this week?”

“Several,” I reply with a shrug. “How many teachers have fucked you this week?”

“Several,” he echoes with a carefree grin and adjusts his perfectly shaped elbows on

my desk.

Those white teeth, that full, hot mouth around my cock has me gasping for air every

time. The reason this Adonis is so skilled at giving head is that he fucks around a lot and has

done so for years. Troy’s not even discrete about it. He tells me about his conquests every

week after our meetings. Teachers, students, career men, club guys. Basically whoever he

thinks is hot – and Troy, being so impossibly hot, can pretty much have whomever he wants.

It has always bothered me, even at first, when all I felt for him was deep dark lust.

Looking down at my dictionary, I mumble to myself, “If you used the time to study,

instead of fucking, you’d be able to earn your A’s the right way.”

Even if that meant I wouldn’t be having these magnificent hours with him every week.

I’d trade it all if Troy would just settle down a little and stop messing around so much. I even

find myself glaring at guys in the hallway, wondering if they’ve fucked him.

Troy sighs and rustles with his belt. I glance up from my volume. He buttons down his

jeans and slides them off his hips, thrusting his tout ass further up.

I take a few calm breaths before allowing myself to fully rest my eyes on the glory that

is Troy’s perfect ass, all without moving my head an inch.

He places his head in the palm of his hand with a smile and uses the other to pluck off

my thick-rimmed glasses. I allow him to lean over and press his lips to mine. The feeling of

the soft, slippery texture of his skillful tongue is euphoric. My brain is plunged into a cloudy

haze. It becomes hard to think straight. I take his face in my hands to pull him closer, diving

him into a deep, lingering kiss before breaking for air.

“Please, fuck me, Mr. Corrigan,” he whispers breathless against my lips. “You don’t

have to prepare me, just shove it in and take me hard.”

Now, how am I supposed to say no to such a request?

My notes and books thump to the floor as I flail around the desk, opening a drawer for

my supplies. Troy lifts himself to undo my belt. My khaki’s and boxer briefs pool around my

ankles. I penguin-walk with my feet tangled to position myself behind him.

An unexpected moan slithers out of my throat at the sight of his tanned thighs,

beautifully dusted with light hair. The smooth, round ass with dimples on the sides always has

me breathing hard. My fingers twitch at the thought of grabbing those slim hips and using

them as handles. All of this is mine for two rounds.

I remove his pants and spread his legs. The condom he hands me rolls on smoothly

and the cold gel makes sticky sounds as I slather it on my very stiff manhood, smearing the

rest around Troy’s puckered hole. The prospects of being allowed to shove myself into the

tightness has my head spinning. He always knows just what to say.

Troy lets out a needy moan at my touch, pushes his hips upward and repositions his

elbows on my desk. I pause at the entrance, hold my breath and wait a few seconds just to

enjoy the view. I don’t believe I have ever seen a more beautiful back. It’s long and curvy,

slimming down to his narrow waist. He’s not skinny enough to be a twink and not muscled

enough to be beefy. He’s just…perfect.

“Go on, Mr. Corrigan,” Troy whispers, short on breath. The pretty face flushes and his

eyes half hood with the same lust that tickles my every nerve. That’s the difference between

Troy and the others. Troy genuinely seems to enjoy our time together – the others always

leave after our business is done.

He moans when my shaking fingers spread his cheeks. The tanned back arches with a

sound of a choked cry when my cockhead pushes into his body. I give him a few seconds to

adjust before pushing the rest in with a deep grunt.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Troy groans through bared teeth as I spank his ass repeatedly with my

lower abdomen. It’s a good thing my office is positioned between a small room of cleaning

supplies and noisy server room. Troy is very vocal and very loud.

“Ah! Fuck me, Mr. Corrigan,” he moans while the walls inside him part for me over

and over. I reach my hand around him and find his erection to stroke in rhythm to my hard

pounding. The faster I fuck him the louder he moans – and the louder he moans the faster I

fuck him. It isn’t long before we’re both howling with strings of sperm shooting out our slits;

mine up his ass and his all over my battered mahogany desk.

The first round was quick, the second round longer. Over the course of the semester,

we’ve practically used every bit of that office to have sex, so we did a repeat-round on the

desk, only this time with him lying on his back. He loves it when we face each other because

he seems very into kissing. I was never much fond of it…until I met Troy.

He almost always asks why we can’t go to my apartment for sex. I always give him

some lame excuse.

See, the day after I came out to my family, I went to work as usual, if a bit disheveled,

but was turned away at the door. The reason they gave me was that my ‘unhealthy situation’

might cause the meat products to become infected and cause a national epidemic. It made no

difference that I didn’t have HIV and was never in direct contact with the products – my job

being an office job and all. Lucky for me, my brother-the-principal was very sympathetic. He

offered me the teaching position. It came with a sizeable dorm room with a kitchen area and a

separate bedroom. It looked very nice when he showed it to me, but it’s only used for sleeping

now. It’s a complete, mind-gagging mess in there. We’re talking empty pizza boxes from last

month, piles of dirty laundry on the couch, and a bathroom that hasn’t seen a thorough

scrubbing in almost two years. I hardly ever use it anymore. The public bathrooms work just

fine and the showers at the campus gym are nice and spacious.

So, is it a surprise I don’t want Troy over?

My bed is the only empty space I have to relax in the room. The only relaxing I do is

sleeping before I’m up and out the door again with a dry-cleaned suit and shirt, my briefcase

and a gym bag. There’s a schedule for the dorm’s laundry room, but it clashes with my own,

so I just stopped doing the laundry.

Buying a washing machine would be an option if I had the money, but my ex-wife is

like a money vortex. I pay her a fortune in alimony and child support. It should be a little less

now that Anthony’s turned eighteen. Margaret will turn eighteen in four years…but then

there’ll be college fees. Nope, I really don’t see myself being able to save up for anything for

the next eight years. Unless my kids decide to attend this college. But what are the odds of

them wanting to share college space with their gay father?

What will I do in eight years? Quit my nasty job and move off to a life of bumming on

the beach? There really is no point to my life anymore.

What about Troy? He will still be clubbing and fucking. Then he’ll probably end up

with something as nasty as HIV after all his fun and games. The tragic thing is, if he’d come

crawling back to me in the distant future with HIV, I’d still take him in and take care of him. I

would even make love to him.

How the hell did a stupid kid like him manage to weasel his way into my soul?

****

“You should have met off-campus, Danny,” says my brother-the-principal, Benjamin,

as we stroll towards one of the college coffee shops a week later. “You really need to get out

more.”

“Don’t have a car,” I reply and kick a tiny grey pebble in front of me.

“I could have driven you,” he says calmly, knowing well not to push too hard when

I’m in one of my moods.

“I know,” I say with a slumped shrug.

He opens the glass door for me, finds us a table and orders me two double espressos.

Ben knows better than anyone that staying up half the night makes me grumpy. I haven’t seen

Anthony in two years. I don’t even know if I’ll recognize him when he walks through the

door.

“You okay?” asks Ben before sipping his chocolate-sprinkled cappuccino.

He’s here to give me moral support, but things might just be awkward once Anthony

arrives. I have no idea what to expect from my son. He might as well start spewing

obscenities at me, accusing me of ruining his life again. Ben knows how things are between

us, but I’d rather not have him hear the repetition of all those lines that were said to me back

then. Or to hear all the names they called me.

I look up when a bunch of laughing kids burst through the doors. Anthony isn’t among

them, but my eyes immediately zone in on Troy’s blue, cat-like eyes and the beefy arm

around his shoulders. The arm is attached to a tall African-American with a shaved head and a

very broad chest. They’re both grinning and laughing. There’s a definite pang in my stomach.

Troy winks at me before his guy shuffles them into a booth along with the other kids to order

from the waitress.

Goddamn Troy.

Is he here just to tease me? Doesn’t he see how I want to bash him over the head and

drag him off to my cave whenever I see him with someone else?

“I did tell you not to get too close to the students,” Ben says in his calm voice.

“We’re not close,” I reply rather coldly and take another slurp of espresso. “Would be

nice to see him work harder for tomorrow’s exam, that’s all.”

Ben turns in his seat to check out Troy. “So you two aren’t dating?”

“No, but if we were it wouldn’t be any of your business,” I say to the brother who has

been nothing but nice to me since we were kids. Well, mostly. He deserves my gratitude, but

that’s half the reason I always try to stand up to him. He’s too nice and happy. I hate owing

him. Not that he ever intends to collect.

Ben laughs through his nose. “I’m the principal, how would it not be my business?”

“You don’t have a policy forbidding teacher-student relationships. You said so

yourself on my first day.”

“I also said that they’re discouraged. They’re almost always a bad idea and they’re

never allowed if it affects the grades. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. My shoulders slump over the hot cup.

Ben’s always been a straight arrow. Troy and I aren’t dating anyway. We’re just

fucking.

My body tenses up at the sight of a young, clean-shaven man walking toward the

coffee shop. His freshly cut dark hair contrasts his very pale skin. His big brown eyes meet

mine from the other side of the glass.

There’s no way I wouldn’t recognize him; he the spitting image of me at his age.

Ben looks away from Anthony and gives me an encouraging smile. “Good luck,

Danny. Want me to check on you later?”

“No, I’m fine.” My voice comes out in a whisper as I numbly watch Anthony

approach. My fingers tremble around the scalding cup. The heart in my chest thumps wildly

and my face flares up. “Um…thanks anyway.”

Ben reaches over and squeezes my shoulder before he leaves. Anthony only gives his

uncle a brief nod when they meet in the doorway, before he walks towards me with a ridged

posture. His mouth is a tight line on his face.

For a moment, I wonder if he’s here delivering bad news. Perhaps something’s

happened to Margaret.

My body reacts on its own where I stand up and reach out my arms. I just manage to

get a hold of myself and leave it up to him if he wants the physical contact. It surprises me

when he walks to me and pulls me into a tight embrace. Now I’m really starting to wonder if

Margaret is okay. I couldn’t live with myself if something’s happened to my little girl. The

same little girl who used to sit on my shoulders and pick apples from the high tree in the yard.

The same little girl who kissed me good night before going to bed and told me I was her

favorite person in the world. The exact same little girl who called me a fag and a fairy two

years ago before storming into her bedroom and slamming the door shut. We haven’t seen

each other since then.

With a brief glance to my right, I catch Troy watching me. His usual carefree

expression is gone and instead he looks almost as serious as Anthony does. I force my eyes

away from the blue orbs when Anthony loosens his grip.

“Is-is Margaret okay?” is the first thing I ask, holding my breath for an answer.

“Margaret? Of course she is,” says Anthony with a much deeper voice than I

remember. He contacted me through emails a couple of days back to set up this meeting.

The rush of relief loosens me up a little while we take our seats.

We talk about idle things: the upcoming high school graduation, cars, movies, how his

mom and sister are doing. He clears his throat before he brings up what seems to be the reason

for the visit.

“Dad, I’ve been accepted into Yale’s Economics program.”

“Yale?” I say, unable to stop the surprise in my voice. I knew the kid was smart – he’s

my son after all – but…

“Yeah, and mom said you’d cover the tuitions.”

Oh did she now… We hadn’t really settled anything. She got all the savings, including

the college funds for our kids. What happened to that money?

“A-and, I mean, I’ve applied for scholarships, but they’re really hard to get, but I’ll

try, and then maybe grandma and grandpa could–”

“I’ll take care of it, Ant.” I interrupt when he starts fiddling with a napkin.

The smile he sends me is worth every dollar. Maybe he’s accepted my sexuality;

maybe he’d like to keep in touch more now that he’s choosing the same program I chose.

He’s following into my footsteps, isn’t he?

It’s a surprise, though. He always said he wanted to be an artist. He truly is talented

with a paintbrush.

“I’ll pay,” I add out of sudden inspiration. “But only if you’re absolutely sure this is

what you want to do, Ant. Even though working in economics might be able to make you

money, it won’t make you happy if you’re not truly interested in business. Are you sure you

wouldn’t rather go to an art college?”

Anthony’s eyebrows rise until they disappear behind his sleek bangs. “You’re

encouraging me to study art? Didn’t you say that I’d never be able to live off it a few years

back?”

Stretching a hand to the nape of my neck, I give myself a little scratch. “May have said

something like that, but the last two years have taught me a lot about life. If I could go back to

your age, I’d choose something different.”

“Yeah?” says Anthony with a warm smile. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” I say with a laugh. “Maybe photography?”

Anthony’s sweet laugh has me laughing as well.

“What would you take photos off? Naked men?”

My laughter fades and the smile with it. Anthony’s smile disappears as well.

“Um, sorry. A-are you still…you know?”

“Gay?” I say.

Anthony leans over the table with a hushed voice. “Don’t say it so loud.”

“Why not? I don’t care if people know.”

I haven’t come out publicly or anything, but it’s not a secret either.

“Dad, isn’t there anything you can do about it? Like go to a priest or have therapy to

get it out of your system? I’m sure mom would take you back if you just–”

“It’s not something I can change, Anthony.” My words came out a little harshly, I

realize when my son cringes back. “It’s who I am,” I add in a softer tone. “I was born this

way.”

Anthony purses his lips and straightens his shoulders – a trait he’s inherited from his

mother. “Yeah, but you were with mom for seventeen years. I mean, you can obviously be

with women, too.”

“Your mom and I haven’t had sex since she got pregnant with your sister. She wanted

it like that and I was fine with it. In fact, I was glad…until she wanted to start again two years

ago. By then I knew that wasn’t going to happen.”

Anthony stops for a minute to think and then looks at me again with new vigor in his

speech. “Yeah, but isn’t that why you gave up on women? Because you two stopped doing it

for so long? Maybe you’ve just forgotten what it’s like.”

“No,” I say slowly, hating the disappointment that crosses his face. This has clearly

been weighing on his mind. But at least he’s talking to me about it. That’s better than him

ignoring me. This feels like a step in the right direction.

“I’ve always liked guys, Ant, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”

My eyes automatically search for Troy who’s sitting with his friends at the other end

of the coffee shop. He’s watching me, so I quickly snap my eyes back to my son.

Anthony’s brown eyes shift towards Troy and then back at me. He curls his fingers

into fists. “This just doesn’t make any sense, dad. It’s abnormal, okay? How the hell am I

supposed to tell my friends about you? ‘Hey, yeah, my dad’s gay.’ Do you know what they’ll

think? They’ll think I’m gay, too.”

I shake my head. “Homosexuality isn’t inherited.”

Anthony folds his arms over his chest with a deep sigh. “My friends won’t understand

that.”

“I’m so sorry, Ant, but this is who I am,” I say earnestly and lean forward. “I can’t go

back in the closet – not even for you.”

My hand moves on its own to take his, but he jerks his hand back and rubs it, as if

trying to disinfect himself.

“You don’t…like, find me attractive or anything, do you?”

My eyes widen as I stare at my son. For a minute, I think he’s joking, but he’s staring

back at me, waiting for an answer.

“God, Anthony!” I say in a hushed voice. “You’re my son! Of course I don’t find you

attractive! Why would you even ask that?”

Anthony sits back and swallows before he meets my eyes again. “Well, I’ve been

thinking about it and you did see me naked when we went swimming and I used to walk about

the house in my boxers. You should have warned me or something if you knew you were gay

back then.”

“Anthony…” The plea in my voice reflects the horror fizzing throughout my body. “I

promise you that I never, ever had any desires for your body. The thought alone disgusts me. I

used to change your diapers for goodness sakes!”

“Change my diapers? You’re disgusted because of that?” says Anthony, still keeping

his voice low, almost at a hiss. “You do know the same stuff comes out of other guys’ butts,

too, right? That’s what butts are made for – for stuff to come out, not in.”

“That’s not what I meant!” I say through bared teeth. My hands start trembling again,

but not because of nerves. I’m so angry I’m having a hard time controlling myself. Averting

my eyes, I take a few seconds to try to calm down.

When I meet Troy’s curious gaze, a warm and fuzzy spark soothes the fury in my

chest. It calms my muscles and ebbs away the anger. It’s then I realize that what I feel for

Troy isn’t lust; it’s love. I’ve been with many guys since before coming out, but only Troy

gives me a sense of peace and contentment. I am happy when he’s mine, even if it’s only for

an hour or two. No, I could never hide from my sexuality. Even though coming out has

brought me nothing but misery, my moments with Troy will stay with me forever. It’s bitter

sweet, but worth it.

I exhale every bit of air out of my lungs and focus back on my son.

“Anthony. I understand you’re confused about my sexuality and you’ve gone through

a lot over the past two years. Believe me, if I’d have had any say at all, things would have

turned out differently and we wouldn’t have lost contact. I’m willing to do just about anything

to help you come to terms with this. Just don’t ask me to hide who I am now when I finally

feel like I can breathe.”

I pause for a second and swallow hard.

“Please, don’t ever think I’ve fantasized about you – you’re my son. Your mother

likes guys and she hasn’t been coming on to you, right? And just because I like men it doesn’t

mean I find every single guy attractive. I’m basically the same guy I was before you knew I

was gay, okay?”

Anthony sighs and closes his eyes. “I gotta go. You’ll pay the tuition?”

I rub my face with my palm. “Yeah.”

“Great,” says Anthony. His chair scrapes the stone floor when he stands up. “I’ll call

you sometime.”

Something tells me I won’t hear from him until the next time he needs money. Well,

maybe that’s a little unfair. This conversation was like hell carving its way into my heart, but

it was a first step. Or I hope it was…

When I glance up from my cup, I meet Troy’s eyes again. His friends are joking and

laughing around him, but he isn’t. Wondering what he could be thinking about makes me

irritated. I hate that I care. I hate that he saw my son and me argue, even though he couldn’t

have heard much. I hate loving someone who doesn’t love me back.

With a frustrated sigh, I dig a waddle of dollar bills out of my pocket, throw down a

few and leave.

Troy is only a year older than my son, but the two are so different. Troy is playful like

a gust of cool air. He’s also more life savvy than Anthony is. He’s open minded and

sympathetic. I’ve seen it in the boy on more than one occasion. Once I caught him stopping a

couple of guys from bullying a smaller kid in the hallway. With his chatty, casual charm, he

walked off with them and they forgot all about the kid. He also has a way of getting what he

wants with his quick thinking. It always puts me on guard around him, but he can pretty much

make me do anything with very little effort anyway.

Crossing the campus grounds, I make a beeline for the school building. The wind

sends black locks of hair flying into my eyes as I jog the short distance.

It’s true that I used to fuck around a lot before Troy. I had company almost every night

and was pretty shameless about modifying their grades as a favor returned. But I shed those

guys one by one after I started fucking Troy, and now he’s my only student with benefits.

The problem is that he only comes to me once a week. I should have requested he

come at least twice, but he didn’t give me much room for negotiation the first time we met

outside class. As I burst through the school’s double doors I let the memory of our first time

together run through my mind.

“Mr. Corrigan, were you, by any chance, checking me out in class today?” Troy asked

while dropping the stack of sheets on my desk. He’d offered to carry it from the class room.

I halted in my tracks, one hand stretched out for my empty coffee cup. He was right. I

was checking him out, but I thought I was being discrete.

“If I was, would you really expect me to answer truthfully?” I asked, slowly sitting

down on my squeaky chair. With one leg crossed over the other, I watched Troy intently,

knowing exactly what was coming.

He flashed me a breathtaking smile and smoothed out the top sheet with his long,

tanned fingers. “I’m just saying I’m okay with it if you were.”

“Okay,” I said slowly and waited for him to continue. Best to play dumb and make

him suggest it.

His eyes connected with mine and for a second neither of us talked. Then he wetted

his lips with the tip of his tongue and spoke, keeping his eyes firmly on mine.

“It’s just that I’ve heard you make deals with students, and since I make similar deals

all the time with teachers, I was wondering if we could negotiate.”

“You make ‘deals’ all the time,” I repeated, watching for any signs of a joke, though I

was pretty sure he was being genuine.

His hips moved slowly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Troy was

wearing what looked like brand new black jeans that rode low on his hips and had a silver belt

threaded through the hoops. The sexy movement had my lips sealed tightly. My cock stirred

as I imagined what it would feel like to touch his perky little ass.

“Yes, ‘deals’,” he air-quoted. “Come on, you know what I’m talking about. I see you

privately once a week and you make sure I pass the class with flying colors.”

“Mmh,” I murmur, tracing the knuckle of my forefinger under my lower lip while

keeping my steady gaze on his middle section. “But, I don’t like it when people waste my

time, so how do I know if you’re any good?”

Troy chuckled and moved towards me, hips swaying naturally as he walked. My gaze

travelled up his long, lean body, up to his face to see a confident smirk playing on his curvy

lips.

“Why don’t I give you a taste? Or should I say, why don’t you let me have a taste?”

I uncrossed my legs and swallowed hard as he lowered himself between my knees.

This was something so new to me, because the students I’d been with had always been

reluctant at first – either because they didn’t have much prior experience, or because they

were straight but desperate to impress their parents with grades. Call me a bastard for taking

advantage, but all of us got something good out of it, in one form or another.

Troy tilted his head upwards and stretched his body to reach my lips. He traced his wet

tongue along them, tickling, teasing. I fell right into his trap by leaning in after him as he

pulled back and smiled. God, I wanted to kiss those lips so badly.

Troy unfastened my buckle before I knew it and his nimble fingers dove into my pants

to pull out my half hard cock. His smirk widened into a smile before he lowered his head and

inhaled my scent with an appreciative groan that made me rock-hard within seconds. I’d never

before had someone so willing…and seductive…and hot.

He tickled my cockhead with the soft insides of his lips, coercing an easy groan from

me. I wove my hands through his shoulder-length hair and pulled him downwards, moaning

deeply as my cock slid into his eager mouth.

“Fuck,” I whispered in a breath as his head bobbed up and down at a painfully slow

pace.

When I moaned again he let my cock slide out of his mouth, but kept licking it,

bathing it with the flat of his tongue from base to top, and all around. Swirling, grazing, and

sucking at the small patch of skin just under my searing cockhead.

I gazed down when he stopped and gently made me remove my hands from his hair.

Then I watched transfixed as he pulled out his own cock and stroked it tenderly. His other

hand went around my length and pumped it slowly, spreading the bead of pre-come over the

tip with his thumb.

The boy was good, no, great! The only part I didn’t like was the knowledge that he’d

probably done this to countless of other guys. Something within me wanted to claim him as

my own. That was also a first.

“Do we have a deal?” He asked in a whispering voice tainted with his own lust. His

catlike eyes gazed up from under his eyebrows and he tilted his head a fraction as he waited

for my response. Hot breath flowed in and out between his glistening lips.

It was hard to think when all I wanted to do was to bend him over the table and fuck

him raw. My breath rattled as I pictured myself ramming him hard until he bared his teeth and

cried out in ecstasy. That was an image I desperately wanted to see with my own eyes.

When I managed a nod, he reached up with a smile and finally, finally planted those

succulent lips on mine. I groaned into the kiss, my tongue finding his like a bee to honey. He

moaned back while he continued to stroke my cock. When he tried to pull away I quickly

placed one hand on the small of his back and the other behind his head to keep him in place.

He didn’t struggle. He let go of my cock, slid his arms around my neck and held me tightly

until I’d had my fill of the sweet, intoxicating feeling of kissing him. When I let him go, he

proceeded to give me the best blowjob of my life that has only been topped by his many

blowjobs since.

That’s all it is though: sex. Granted, very passionate sex every single time, but still,

it’s just sex. A young kid like Troy could never get serious with a middle-aged man like me –

a poor middle-aged man with no prospects or financial assets. My depression would probably

dragging him down and make him miserable, so it’s probably for the best. If there’s

something I wouldn’t ever want to witness it would be seeing the joy of life in his pretty eyes

fade away and die.

Back in reality I open the door to my office and lock it behind me. The cold wall feels

good against my shoulders while I adjust the hardening cock in my pants. That memory gets

me every time. It makes me forget everything and everyone around me.

Reality’s a bitch, though. I can’t get over the fact that Troy could never be serious

about someone like me. He wouldn’t want to be tied down so young and the age gap is too

wide. Every time we have a meeting I feel like a twenty-year old again, choosing my best

suits, washing thoroughly, and spraying on my cologne. He makes me feel young. Troy seems

equally excited to see me…but he didn’t visit two weeks ago. It was the first time he’d bailed

on me. I was worried sick when I went out for dinner and the sickness multiplied when I saw

him. He wasn’t at home with a fever and there hadn’t been a life-threatening accident. No, he

was walking and laughing with some kids. It pierced my heart in ways I’d never experienced

before, to think he’d forgotten about me, or that he’d lost all interest in me. I wanted to walk

up to him and shout at him to get his ass to my office, but instead I quickly walked away so

Troy wouldn’t see the hurt in my heart. Knowing that he’s sleeping around and actually

seeing him with the guys are two different things. Whenever I see someone else with an arm

around him – like today – I am reminded that all I am to him is a teacher who can change a

grade.

My head collides with the wall twice before I push myself away to find tissues. The

goddamn tears leave a warm trail down my cheeks. I’m supposed to be upset about my

encounter with Anthony, but all I can think about is that the final exam is tomorrow and I

won’t get to touch Troy ever again. He will move on to new classes and find new teachers to

fuck him. I’ll stay behind, stuck in the boredom of my own lessons. Troy said he’d stop by

after the exam – to have our last session – but he won’t have any other use for me afterwards,

and it stings like the sharp end of a pickaxe.

The bottom drawer slides open and I pour myself a glass of the bourbon my brother

gave me. Just as I’m downing it in one go there’s a light knock on the door.

The empty glass makes a low bump on the desk when I set it down and walk to the

door. Leaning my forehead against it, I take a few calming breaths and wipe the tears off my

face.

“Who is it?” I say once I have enough control over my voice.

“It’s me,” says Troy and my heart thumps an extra beat. “Are you okay?”

How the hell did he know I was upset? Was it that obvious in the coffee shop?

“Yeah, I’m just not up for visitors right now, Troy. You should be studying anyway.”

Troy stays silent for a few seconds before he speaks again. “Just, please let me in for a

minute.” Then he lowers his voice. “I’ll make you feel better.”

Tempting. So goddamned tempting. That guy is a hot little jezebel. He knows exactly

what to say to get what he wants from me. Only this time it sounds like he isn’t doing this for

himself, but for me.

Before rationalizing it, I open the door. The pained look on his pretty face clues me in

on how horrible I must look. Tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes aren’t exactly hot. But I don’t

want his sympathy. There are only two things I want from this boy and I can’t have one of

them; namely him as mine exclusively. The other thing, however…

As if I’ve just catapulted part of my thoughts into his mind, he locks the door and

dives for a kiss, pressing his slender body against mine. I moan my need into his mouth and

hold onto him as if my life depended on it. My fists wad up the shirt on his back. He grabs my

collar with one hand and the back of my neck with the other.

A thump vibrates off the wall when I thrust him up against it. His long groan is like

sweet music in my ears when I lick, suck, and bite the sweet skin on his neck. With a

frustrated grunt, I work the tight jeans down his hips and he helps by wiggling his body in a

way that only fires me up more. His hand fists up my hair while the other goes to my belt.

Still with my lips on his neck, I swat his hand away, yank my belt loose and rip the button

open. The pants pool around my feet as I grab Troy up in my arms and squeeze hard the firm

ass cheeks in my hands.

“Fuck,” Troy breathes with his head tilted back. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Shut up,” I growl and dive in for a rough kiss when he rolls his head downwards to

look at me.

He moans and sighs as I kiss him hard while rubbing my cock against his ass. There’s

no way I can enter him like this, so I break the kiss, spit in my palm and spread it over the tip

of my cock.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he whimpers when he sees what I’m about to do. Like always, he

pushes his pucker out as I line my cock up and thrust it inside. He throws his head back with a

high cry and clasps his arms around my neck.

“You like that, huh? You like it rough?” I ask while pushing my bare, ill-coated cock

further up his ass and spit some more to make it go a little smoother.

“Fuck yeah,” he cries out.

I use that as permission to force myself the rest of the way. Troy’s moans and cries

only increase as my cock thrusts in and out. I go as fast as I can while holding him up in my

arms. He doesn’t move with me. By the concentrated look on his face, he seems to be too high

on the sensations to do anything but cry out with fluttering eyelids as I pelt him hard.

It’s as if some primal, out of control beast has taken over me. It’s driven by the

passion and greed I have for this boy. The beast inside wants to claim him – to mark him as

my own. Troy cries out and arches when I bite down on his neck with a growl.

I try to ignore the burning muscles in my arms, but when they can no longer hold him

up my cock slips out. I push Troy to the short-cropped carpet – face down. With a deep grunt,

I force myself back in and ride him fast.

“Fuck!” Troy cries out in between his moaning. “Oh yes…”

If only I were young again, he could be mine. If I had money and power I could make

him mine. I’m old in his eyes. After all those years, I have nothing to offer, and all I’ll ever be

to him is one of the teachers who fucked him in college.

“Please…” he whimpers. I nearly climax at the sight of his fingers clawing the carpet.

His sandy-blond hair jerks back and forth as I pelt him. I weave my fingers in it to pull. Troy

arches back and screams out his approval, whimpering and begging. Every single muscle in

his beautiful body is tight and he presses his hips high in the air as I fuck him.

Troy…

I release his hair to find his cock. It already feels like it’s about to erupt, so thick, tout,

and blood vibrating in the popped-out veins. He whimpers another plea as my fingers trace

the outlines of his veins. My thrusts increase in tune with my jerking him off. He holds his

breath for a few seconds before he cries out and splatters his sperm over the carpet. His ass

clamps down on my cock. A series of whimpers leave my throat as he milks me through his

euphoria, and hit I my own high.

He crashes down to the carpet under my added weight when I tumble on top of him.

We have never been fully naked in each other’s arms. I have often wished it, but now I crave

it. My hand runs the side of his torso as we catch our breaths. My lips find his shoulders kiss,

and then I kiss them harder, because I don’t want to let him go. As soon as that thought

invades my mind, the onslaught of tears threaten to return and I pull my cock out of him. He

groans in protest, but can’t seem to gather the strength to move.

As I tuck my shirt in my pants, a lovely white dribble of seed spills out of his hole. It

makes me horny all over again but I have to leave.

Without a word I step around him and close the door behind me. He calls my name in

a raspy voice, but I’m already walking, going home to bury myself under the covers and lick

my wounds.

That was my first condomless sex with another man. My head wasn’t screwed on

straight when I shoved my cock up his ass. It’s strange to feel no regret. That felt too good, to

move inside him with nothing between us. The memory of that sensation alone will last me

for life.

Musty air hits my nostrils as I step into my shitty apartment. I quickly shed my clothes

and dive under the covers to weep like a little girl. What I wouldn’t do to be able to kiss and

hold Troy every day. To be able to call him mine and fall asleep next to him.

I have never been in love before, and now that I am, it sucks.

I drift off somewhere between the image of Troy spread out wonton on the carpet and

a fantasy of me snuggling up with him in a clean apartment.

****

In the faint light from the row of windows along the classroom wall, I watch the

bodies bend over a piece of paper. This is the moment their hearts will drop with the

impossibility of my nasty questions. For some reason this doesn’t give me the pleasure it did

in the past. Instead of taking in their varied frowns and head-scratching, I lean back in my seat

and take a long sip of coffee.

The first thing I did when rolling out of bed this morning was laugh. I remembered the

exam forms and answer key were in the briefcase in my room. With the office computer

switched off, there was no way for Troy to see the answers to the questions. It’s almost as if I

subconsciously planned this, to make him come and see me in my office to redo the exam. He

was supposed to stop by after the exam, but he paid his final debt last night and I won’t force

him to give me any extra. It’ll be nice just to see him again, talk to him, and bask in his

presence one last time.

I didn’t have to look up to know when Troy walked into the classroom. There was this

strange sensation of a tug towards the door behind me. He was watching me, I could tell, but I

didn’t acknowledge him. I didn’t want him to see how much he affected me.

Now that he’s bent over his answer sheet I can watch him all I want. His slender,

nicely toned arms are beautiful. He’s wearing wide army pants today, presumably for

comfort. A shallow line is etched above the bridge of his nose from concentration. He looks

extra sexy like that.

Throughout the semester, he’s been watching me as I teach in my monotone voice. I

see the students slip into a waking sleep, one by one, but Troy always watches me. It’s been a

struggle to keep my eyes off him for more than a few seconds at a time. Each time our eyes

connected, he’d give me this sweet smile. It was next to impossible not to return it. During

moments like these, all I wanted was to be a young student again. I would walk up to him,

take his hand and lead him out of the classroom. Then I’d press him against the lockers to kiss

him and suck on his honeyed lips all day if he’d let me. I would beg to be his boyfriend.

“Mr. Corrigan?” Troy’s voice echoes off the bare walls.

Startled, I discover the students have left and there’s a disheveled pile of papers on my

desk. Did I fall asleep? Did the other students see me gazing at Troy the whole time? Was I

gazing at him the whole time?

Troy towers over me where I sit leaned back in my chair. His sexy smile melts my

insides as he hands me his white piece of answer sheet. I clear my throat and stick the paper in

the middle of the pile and ready myself to leave.

“May I stop by your office later?” he asks. My head jerks in a terse nod as I gather up

the pile.

“Are you okay?” he asks, placing a tender hand on my shoulder.

I turn my head to take a quick glance at him, but end up gazing, taking in every part of

him to store in my memory. My goddamn heart aches so much. Unrequited love sucks.

“Yeah,” I answer in a low voice before stepping away from him and leaving.

The rest of the day takes forever to pass. Grading exams can be hell, but I did make it

easier by choosing the multiple questions format. I like to get it done as fast as possible to say

good bye to the school year and begin my miserable summer vacation.

Most of the kids get a low grade, because macroeconomics doesn’t make much sense

to those who aren’t really interested in it. Only the geeks with no social life get all the answers

right…geeks and Troy.

With a second look at his name on top, I take a closer look at his answers. How the

hell did he do it? Did I leave a copy of the answers in the office last night? No, I only ever use

my notebook for those things and my notebook was in my briefcase.

The knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Come in,” I say and push things around on my desk to see if I left anything at all that

Troy could have seen…but then he probably would have taken it.

“Hey,” says Troy with a light smile in his voice.

I glance up at him with a lurching heart. I’m about to lose him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

Troy shoves his fingers into the pockets of his tight jeans and shrugs. “I just wanted to

see how you’re doing. You did say I could come.”

With a frown, I look at Troy’s answer sheet again.

“Where did you find the answers?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean your answers are a hundred percent, but I didn’t give you the answers last

night.”

Troy gives me a half smile – half smirk, his eyes darting to where I left him lying on

the carpet the night before.

“I studied. That’s why I didn’t come to see you two weeks ago. I had to study for the

other exams as well.”

His blue-eyed gaze doesn’t waver under my suspicious glare.

“I saw you out with some kids that night. You weren’t studying. You’re already

getting an A+, so you don’t have to lie to me.”

I gather the marked sheets into a pile and place it in a cross over the unmarked ones.

Troy strolls over and sits himself on the small empty patch of my desk. My chair

squeaks loudly when I push myself backwards a little.

What the hell? Was last night a freebie?

“That was my study group going out to grab a bite,” he says with amusement in his

eyes. “I’m not lying to you; I always study hard. Macroeconomics is easy.”

“Then why did you almost flunk the midterm?”

Troy chuckles once before he tries to rein in his smile. “Well, if I’d gotten an A+

you’d probably have made me stop coming to see you every week.”

A few long seconds tick by as I think this over. When it makes no sense to me, I look

up into his handsome face.

“But that’s the kind of deal you wanted,” I say.

Troy traces his fingers up my cheek and removes my glasses. He hops off the table

and straddles me on the chair, making it squeak under the extra weight.

“I just wanted an excuse, Daniel, to see you. Okay, I did lie a little; I don’t have that

kind of deal with other teachers, I just figured if I said I did it would make it easier for you to

accept.”

His fingers slide to my hair and trace my face down to my neck. He leans down and

kisses me gently on the lips. My hands automatically loop around his waist and I pull him

closer, heart racing a mile a minute.

“But why?” I ask, the confusion in my voice loud and clear.

Troy’s succulent lips twitch into a smile. It takes me a second to realize he’s nervous.

His body is unusually cold and the tips of my fingers on the small of his back moisten with

his perspiration.

“Oh hell,” he says with a sigh, dipping his chin to avoid my eyes. “I have nothing to

lose anyway, right? Why did I want to see you every week? Probably because of the same

reason I get jealous when you fuck other students…or the principal.”

My head feels all light and fuzzy. He’s jealous?

I close my eyes and tighten my hold on his hips.

“Speaking of,” Troy continues. “I thought young guys were your thing. I’m always

surprised when I see you and the principal together. I was downtown a month ago and saw

you two having dinner at a nice restaurant. And who was that guy at the coffee shop

yesterday? I haven’t seen him around.”

“Why?” I ask, my lips quirking into a nervous smile. “Did you like the guy?”

“No,” Troy says with a snort, screwing up his adorable nose. “I hate him already

because he’s one of yours. I need a name to go with the internal cussing whenever I think

about my rival.”

“Rival?” I say with a quick laugh, but tighten my hold on his waist. “You get jealous

about me with other men?”

“Well, yeah,” says Troy in a ‘duh’ sort of way. “I’m not the only guy in class who

thinks you’re hotter than hell. In fact, you’ve been at the top of the Hot-Top-Five list of the

hottest teachers in school since before I even started college.”

I literally feel my eyebrows rise. “There’s a list with a rating on how attractive

teachers in this school are?”

Troy casts me an amusing smile. ”Yeah, gramps. It’s on this thing called the

‘internet’,” he air quotes.

“Don’t call me ‘gramps’,” I say with a held-back smile.

“Daddy, then.”

“God, no,” I say with what sounds horribly like giggles.

“Fine,” says Troy with a wide smile on his lips as he readjusts himself on my lap.

“Daniel.”

He leans down and kisses me for a minute. It’s slow and soft. So unlike before. I love

it.

Breaking away I look up in his face, just taking in this weird feeling of relief and

disbelief. He smiles with his eyes, but he’s also twiddling with the collar of my shirt. He’s

being shy and unsure, kind of like I am.

“Well, then,” I say, clearing my throat. “I bet there’s a subscript saying I’m also the

top most boring teacher in school.”

“No way,” says Troy rolling his hips a little. “There are only a few people who take

your class for the actual material – the rest of the girls and guys are there to daydream about

you while you talk.”

“What?” I say, eyebrows rising even higher. “No, wait, I’m not buying this. Those are

business students and this class is mandatory. They think I’m boring – even I think I’m

boring.”

“You’re not boring,” Troy laughs. “Okay, so you really, really hate your job and put

very little effort into making your classes interesting, but I love listening to you talk.”

He bends down to trace his nimble tongue on my neck. A deep groan rumbles in my

chest as my hand slides up and down his firm back. Troy kisses and nibbles on my skin,

sending shockwaves down my body.

“You’ve been in a slump for a long time, Daniel. I want to help you get out of it,” he

says and brushes his soft lips against my jaw. “I want to spend time with you, talk with you,

make out, and get fucked on your bed for once,” he says with a laugh.

I pull him closer and smile, having never felt so elated in my life. It still feels a little

unreal.

“I hate that the semester is over and I want to continue seeing you,” he says.

Gentle fingers rub the back of my shoulder as Troy’s lips find their way to mine and

we dive into a drawn-out, head-spinning kiss.

“You do know that I live in a small dorm room, right? I don’t have a lot of money. In

fact, I hardly have any,” I whisper when we break apart for air.

“I know,” says Troy and kisses me again. With it, he eases away my concerns about

the implications of having a relationship with him. My desire for this boy is drowning me in

feelings of happiness. This feels like one of those things that are too good to last, but I’m

going to try my hardest.

Troy breaks away and puts a hand on my chest when I’m about to kiss him again.

“Just please stop messing around with other guys. I seriously hate it.”

I smooth out the etched line between his eyebrows. “What guys?”

“The principal, for one. Benjamin York?” he says with a cocked eyebrow.

“He’s my half-brother,” I say with a laugh. “I thought everyone knew that. There’s no

way I’d fuck him even if he were gay.”

“Mhm,” says Troy meeting my smile with one of his own. “How about that young guy

at the coffee shop then?”

“That’s my son. We don’t keep in touch very much. He doesn’t approve of my

sexuality.” I look away from Troy and swallow. Now that Troy is mine – a feeling that hasn’t

fully sunk in yet – my mind goes back to Anthony and our encounter yesterday.

“Oh, baby… No wonder you were so upset,” Troy says softly and makes me look at

him by touching his soft palm to my stubbly jaw. “How about all the other guys you have a

grade-A-fuck deal with?”

“There aren’t any others,” I say and pull Troy down, trying to convey my feelings for

him with one kiss. “Just you.”

Our very intimate, very steamy make-out is interrupted by my phone. It rarely rings,

so I’m curious. Troy patiently rests his head on my shoulder while I pick up the receiver and

say hello.

“Hi dad,” says Anthony. “Um, I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday, you

know, about school, and I’m thinking about making last minute applications for art programs.

Um, I’m wondering if we could meet again, you know, just to talk.”

I release a deep breath I’d been holding, not daring to exhale so I wouldn’t miss a

word of what he was saying.

This definitely feels too good to last.

****

Disclaimer: The author does not condone sex without condoms between untested

people. Despite that, she acknowledges that it happens every day in the heat of the moment,

and sometimes because people carelessly decide to “risk it”. Most know what these risks

entail, but for those who do not: unprotected sex can result in sexually transmitted diseases.