The classroom was empty except for one kid sitting in the front row. The kid, technically at 18 a man, was me, and while the school buses had left I had remained. Whether or not I was going to be joined by my science teacher, Mr. Arthur, remained to be seen.
I had given Mr. Arthur a note on my way out of class earlier that day, the last day of school, and although I know he must have read it, I didn't know what his reaction would be. Would he take it seriously?
Probably, because while I was a goofy kid like most everybody in school, I was always intense and sincere in his class. I hung on his every word and always did my best, eager to impress him and always hoping for his approval.
I had a crush on Mr. Arthur, and while I know students often had crushes on their teachers, I doubted whether Mr. Arthur had many students in love with him, especially guys. This was 1971 and that sort of thing was not accepted then any more than it is now, although it seems to become public more these days.
Mr. Arthur wasn't very handsome, and in fact he looked a little like Fred Gwynne, the actor that played Herman Munster on that TV show, without the make-up of course.
Mr. Arthur was tall, probably about 6'5" or so, and as skinny as a rail, and he had a deep voice that sent shivers down my spine. He had enormous hands, with long bony fingers that had a lot of hair on them around the knuckles. He had hairy arms too, I had noticed during those rare times when he took of his suit jacket on hot days.
Those hands. Sometimes in class when we were working on projects he would come around and look over our shoulders. For some reason he would put his hand on my shoulder while making a comment about what I was doing, squeezing with just enough pressure to make me wince.
And make me hard as well. When he would do that my dick would come to life, and I think that if he ever stood there long enough holding me like that I could cum without touching myself. That's how much he excited me.
He had always caught my eye, even before I had him as a teacher in my senior year. In my very limited experiences with guys I had developed a taste for older, dominant men, and that fit Mr. Arthur to a T, but it wasn't until that time in the bathroom after the last class of the day that I had really fallen for him.
Not a very romantic place, the toilet of a boys room, but I had a habit of hanging out there sometimes, sneaking peeks at guys while trying not to let them a glimpse at my meager member. It was then that I saw Mr. Arthur - really saw him.
Teachers didn't usually use the students boys room, except to check to see if they could catch kids smoking, so I was shocked when I saw that the person who had just entered the room and had positioned themselves at the other end of the trough-style urinal was wearing a suit, grey in color.
My eyes went up from the shiny black shoes to the cuffed pants and further up, and when the man undid his fly and reached into his trousers I tried my best to hide my interest, but that attempt failed when I saw what emerged.
The hairy hand pulled out the most incredible cock I had even seen, and then the hand that had pulled out the incredibly long cock moved up to his hip, letting the snake hang there by itself as the yellow stream flowed out of it and into the vessel below.
I had seen a lot of dicks up to them, but none were as long as this man's thing, expect maybe those natives in the National Geographic I had found, and when my eyes went up to see who belonged to this incredible dick I was shocked to see that it was attached to Mr. Arthur.
Even more shocking was the fact that Mr. Arthur didn't notice that I was staring at his face at first because his eyes were elsewhere, namely down at my dick.
I'm not sure why. Maybe he was wondering why I was standing there with my dick in my hand and not peeing, or maybe he was stunned at how little my dick was, but I suspect that what got his attention was that I was hard, so hard that if I did start to pee I would have hosed down the wall.
"Tim," Mr. Arthur said calmly, nodding at me like nothing was wrong, his booming voice echoing in the room.
I grunted a greeting while trying to cram my boner into my pants, unable to keep from looking as Mr. Arthur's pee stream stopped and he wiggled his trouser snake dry. Almost running to the sink, I sprayed water on my hands and grabbed a paper towel before hurrying out the door.
Scurrying out the door, I headed for home, walking through the woods that separated my neighborhood from the school grounds, and when I saw that the woods were deserted I went off the path and into the brush.
Thirty seconds. That's how long it took me to drop my pants and stroke my dick a few times before spurting all over the ground while I closed my eyes and replayed in my mind what I had just seen back in the bathroom.
How many times over the course of the year had I jerked off with that image of Mr. Arthur in my mind. The sight of that light beige flaccid cock, easily over 6", with the tip of the head peeking out from under his foreskin, was burned into my brain.
After that day even when he was just walking around the classroom I fantasized about his cock, picturing it flopping around in those baggy trousers. He probably wore boxers, I assumed, and I guessed that his balls were as over-sized as his cock was.
I had dreams about us being together, even though I knew that there was no way a man like that would be interested in somebody like me, a pudgy kid with a puny dick. Besides, Mr. Arthur was probably married, judging by the gold band that stood out brightly on his hairy finger.
That didn't stop my fantasizing, and I had become so obsessed with Mr. Arthur that it led me to write him that note on the final day. I wondered what his reaction was when he read it, with me telling him what a great teacher he was and how much I respected him and had learned so much in his class. He might have gotten a lot of those kinds of note because he was a great teacher.
How the language of the note ended, that was different, I'm sure. The part about my loving him was bad enough, but when he got to the part where I told him that I was going to be in his classroom at the end of the day and wanted to show him how much I cared for him and what I wanted to do to him?
At least I spelled fellatio correctly, and as I sat in that empty classroom I wondered what he thought about that? Would he come back to his classroom, and if he did, would he come back alone? Maybe he would bring the principal, or the cops. Could I get suspended for that note? School was out, but maybe I could be barred from the graduation ceremony. What would Mom think about that?
"Sorry Mrs. Wells," I imagined old Principal Couse saying to my Mom as she explained what I had done. "We can't have students offering to suck teacher's cocks."
I sat there in my seat, looking at Mr. Arthur's suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair. The place was deserted, since no kid in their right mind would hang around school on the last day. The hall outside the room was quiet, and out through the blinds the sun was shining, while I sat and watched the big hand of the big black and white clock above the door slowly jump each minute.
Then, softly at first, I heard footsteps coming down the hall. Slowly. Painfully slowly. About 15 minutes ago there had been other footsteps, but they had belonged to a janitor. The steps got a little louder and closer, and then the doorway was filled with a very tall thin form. Mr. Arthur.
He stood there in the doorway for a minute, looking at me hyperventilating in my chair, and then he entered the room, his long legs covering a lot of ground even if he was walking slowly.
"Tim," Mr. Arthur said, nodding at me like he had that day at the urinal, and as he walked behind his desk and went to the window he mentioned what a beautiful afternoon it was.
"Yes," I croaked while watching Mr. Arthur look through the blinds, his hairy forearms sparkling in the light, and then he reached up and closed the blinds, making the room darker.
After he went to the back of the room and closed the other blinds I heard his footsteps coming down along the wall toward the door, while I sat there frozen. Mr. Arthur got to the doorway, and after peeking out into the hall, closed the door gently, and when I heard the latch click the sound made me jump.
