Professor Chadwick was sitting behind his large oak desk when the four accountants came into his office carrying the books of Emerald Hill. Emerald Hill, Exclusive College for Young Gentlemen. The finest, most respected institution of higher learning in the whole country. And now there was a real danger that it would go under.
The accountants took chairs on the opposite side of the desk and spread out the financial documents on it. They patiently explained to Professor Chadwick the precarious state of the school's finances. He had spent too much building the new special dormitory for Honors Students, Emerald Hall, a first class luxury residence for the twenty students with the highest grades in the school. It was not even going to be open until next term, and now it was like a lethal weight on the entire institution. It had all been a mad dream. What had he been thinking of?
Of course, if it had come in as budgeted, they would have been all right. But costs had skyrocketed. Unions had caused problems. The building was six months late in completion. And now the costs were way too much for the school to bear. With all the other expenses: the supremely gifted staff, the excellent cuisine, the school infirmary with its doctor and nurses. It was all just too much. The tuitions, as high as they were, and they were the highest in the country, just couldn't cover this deficit. They would go bankrupt. The school would have to shut down. He would be disgraced throughout the entire world of academia. A joke in the world of higher education. He was sweating under his collar. He didn't have the vaguest idea how to extricate himself from this morass.
When the accountants left, he buried his head in his arms on the desk and just cried. After a little time, he got some control of himself and headed out onto the small campus. Boys passed him on the way to their classes, and he nodded and smiled. His mind was a million miles away. He saw handsome young Tom, the football team captain going into the gym. He didn't think there were any gym activities at this hour, but he wasn't sure. Then he saw Barry also go into the gym. He continued to walk the leafy path on the way to his house.
"Professor Chadwick," a voice called. He turned around and saw the slender young boy with the longish red hair running to catch up with him.
"Oh, Wendell," he said. "It was Wendell Prentiss, the young man who had just played the title role in the school play, 'Queen of Neptunia'. And a convincing beautiful young queen he had been. In fact, Professor Chadwick was just now realizing that Wendell played all the female leads in all the school play. He was the school's top actress.
"I wanted to speak to you, Professor Chadwick." Suddenly the boy's face clouded over and he started to sob.
"What is it, Wendell?" he asked, in great concern. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, Professor Chadwick. I'm so unhappy."
"But why?"
"It's the guys in the dorm. They keep making fun of me. Imitating the way I walk and the way I talk. And they keep calling me 'Sissy'."
"I don't like hearing this, Wendell. These boys have to learn to be tolerant. Not to be cruel. I'll give them a good talking to."
"Oh, thank you, Professor." He threw his arms around the professor's waist and hugged him tightly. "I knew you would help me."
"Now run along, Wendell. Go to your next class. I won't let them treat you like this."
Wendell smiled and backstepped down the path toward Milburn Hall for his French class. Professor Chadwick watched his slender young body, as he turned and skipped down the path, kicking the multicolored leaves as he went. Chadwick didn't like to hear things like that. People shouldn't make fun of other people. That was mean. He didn't like meanness.
At least Wendell had brought his attention back to campus matters and away from the financial difficulties, if only for a few moments. He was curious about the gym. It should be empty now. Why had Tom and Barry gone into the gym? He decided to find out.
He quietly opened the door and stepped inside. He walked into the locker room and it was vacant, but he heard the shower running. He furtively sneaked up to the shower room to peek inside, but he kept himself hidden. It was just as he had suspected. Football Tom was soaping himself, but mostly soaping his big cock, which was pretty hard and pretty huge. He was staring lasciviously into Barry's anxious eyes. Barry's gaze was glued onto Tom's dick, and he licked his dry lips. Lips that were dry despite the shower water that ran over them. Barry licked the shower water off his lips.
Tom was now openly displaying his cock for Barry, and smiling. He was waiting for Barry to come over to handle his big stick. To jack it and maybe even to suck on it. Barry made a couple of tentative steps, and Tom began to shake his dick more brazenly, staring into Barry's nervous eyes and smiling.
Barry couldn't hold off any longer. He walked over, reached out his hand and encircled the warm flesh. Now he was smiling. He played with it, and jacked it up and down as Tom arched his back, and eyes closed, raised his head toward the shower head, as the water ran over his nose and lips and chin. He was enjoying this totally.
After a couple of minutes, he put his hand atop Barry's head and began easing him down onto his knees, in front of his bobbing penis. Barry looked up at Tom's face, but Tom still had his eyes closed with the water running over his lids. Barry leaned forward and eased his mouth over the big thing. You could see he had never had a cock in his mouth before. He was trying it. He was tasting it. He was studying it. He was licking it. And then he made the big decision and mouthed the whole kit and kaboodle, trying to get as much in as possible. When it got back a little too far, he started choking and gagging, and he started to pull his head away, but Tom was too fast for him. He clamped his hand behind Barry's head and forced it back onto his hard cock. Barry choked again, but he was adjusting to it. He started to suck it in earnest. Tom was moving his hips gently backward and gently forward, fucking the younger boy's face.
All of a sudden he pulled Barry's mouth off his dick. He had obviously been ready to shoot out his load, but he didn't want to do that yet. He spun Barry around and began soaping the youngster's slender ass, working his finger into the cavern between the cheeks, working his finger into the small hole. After a few minutes he soaped up his own hard dick, and putting the soap back in the tray, grabbed Barry's hips with both hands and began pushing slowly into him. They were both making loud sex sounds.
Professor Chadwick watched in fascination. The prick was going in. He could see it actually separating the tight ring. Tom now pushed the length of his pecker into the boy. Slowly it was disappearing inside of Barry, and the boy's fleshring hugged and squeezed it.
Tom began moving backward and forward, hunching his own ass as he fucked the boy's. Professor Chadwick began playing with his own prick through his pants. He was getting turned on by this. After a few minutes, Tom started battering his partner with increased speed. His face took on an added glow. Then his asscheeks started trembling and Chadwick knew he was coming deep within the hot tunnel. Barry grabbed his own nicely proportioned cock and started to furiously jack it so he could cum along with Tom. And he did. They came together. The two of them wailed in satisfaction.
Professor Chadwick didn't hang around to see if they would kiss afterward. He quickly and quietly got out of there. He didn't want to be discovered. But damn. He was hot. His prick was tingling. He hurried across the campus to his own house, and burst through the front door. His wife, Lydia, was sitting on the living room couch watching a TV soap opera and eating a bowl of popcorn.
He pulled the bowl out of her hand and moved her into a lying position on the sofa. He raised her skirt and pulled her panties down in a frenzy. He didn't even take the time to remove his own clothes. He pulled down his zipper, reached in and pulled his rod through his boxers and through the zipperslit and tumbled on top of Lydia jamming his hard-on into her cunt. He pounded away like a crazy man until he felt his load coming, and it shot out into her still-slightly-dry pussy. What a relief.
"Thanks for the foreplay," Lydia said sarcastically.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"What got into you?" she asked.
"I don't know," he lied. "I just needed to fornicate."
She shook her head as she straightened out her clothes. He could see his cum making a dark wet spot in her panties, before her skirt fell over it. Feeling relieved and able to think more clearly, he went out onto the campus again. It was deserted. All the students and teachers were in class. He decided to look in on some of the classes, and entered Milburn Hall. He spent about ten minutes in Mr. Bartholomew's algebra class reviewing equations, and then decided to go up to Monsieur LaSalle's French class. Then he remembered that this was Monsieur LaSalle's free hour and he would probably be tutoring one of the poorer students.
He got to Monsieur LaSalle's door and the shade was pulled down, covering the glass window in the door. He heard strange noises coming from inside, and then he heard Monsieur LaSalle's French accent whispering fiercely, "Suce ma grosse bite!" My god. What was going on in there? He knew enough French to know that 'suce ma grosse bite' meant suck my big dick. "Oui! Oui! AAAARRRGGGHHH." It seemed that Monsieur LaSalle was getting a great blowjob. "Suce ma queue." Suck my cock, Monsieur LaSalle ordered.
Professor Chadwick just had to see this for himself.
He quietly opened the door just a crack and surreptitiously peeked his head in. They were over by the blackboard. Monsieur LaSalle was standing there with his pants and shorts down around his ankles, and his big bulbous wet dick sticking straight out perpendicular to his body and in young Max's hungry mouth. Max also had his pants and shorts pulled down, but to his thighs, leaving his young dick exposed. He was squatting in front of his teacher and had his left hand around his dick and was pulling his pud as he gobbled Monsieur LaSalle's queue.
Monsieur LaSalle wrapped his hands around Max's head and pulled him down on the thing. The boy choked a little. But he was game. You could see he was almost spreading his throat to be able to accommodate the pole. Monsieur LaSalle may not have been teaching him French at the moment, but he was certainly teaching him to French.
Then, apparently Monsieur LaSalle decided that a blowjob wasn't sufficient, because he spun the boy around and threw him over a student desk, with his ass in the air. Monsieur LaSalle squatted behind the boy for a few moments to moisten his asshole with his long tongue. He licked and prodded the pink rosebud. Then he stood up and placed his queue in the narrow cleft and pressed forward. You could tell by the happy look on his face that he was getting in. When his hips were against the boy's rounded bottom, he paused for a moment to enjoy the sensation. Then he started to fuck. "Oui. Oui. Quel cul tu as!"—Yes. Yes. What an ass thou hast. And what a hard-on Professor Chadwick had again.
Monsieur LaSalle bent the top half of his body over, so that his chest was lying on Max's back. He licked Max's neck as his hips jackrabbitted around. He threw his arms around Max's chest, and when Max turned his face to the side, Monsieur LaSalle moved his lips from the boy's neck to his questing mouth, and they sucked tongues, which brought the Frenchman closer to completion.
