Subject: A Good Boy for Mr B – 2 Thanks for picking my story. This story will have sex between men and boys and will include a few kinks as well. Like all the other stories say: if you shouldn’t be reading this or you think it will offend you, then don’t read it. This is all made up but doesn’t mean anything about the fantasies or sexual desires of the readers or the writer. Donate to Nifty – the more we support it, the more likely it is to stay here for years and years. I’m pretty new to writing but have been reading the stories since I found the site years ago – this is only my second erotic story so let me know if you think it’s any good. ail ********************************** A Good Boy for Mr B – Chapter Two ********************************** “Jake…” I spoke, my voice slowing down as I built up towards the question that had been circling round and round inside my mind for the last few days. You see, it had been four days since my encounter with Mr B inside of the storeroom in our classroom. I don’t know what I’d expected to happen but after what we did together it just seemed so crazy to think that we wouldn’t talk about it or that… you know… something else wouldn’t happen. I mean, I’m not sure I wanted anything else to happen: it wasn’t like I was eager for it. Or maybe that’s not true given how I’d been behaving the last few days… The truth is… being told what a good boy I was and, more, that I was his good boy was so amazing. Even thinking about it makes my heartbeat faster. I wanted that again: I needed to show Mr B what a good boy I could be for him if I was just given another chance. So I started to do things to try to catch his attention. I’d sit at my table in class and push off my school pumps, leaving me in my socks: I’d deliberately been picking bright and colourful ones to make sure that he noticed. I even walked up to his teacher desk a few times, still in socked feet, to ask him questions but not once did he ever say anything about them. I didn’t understand what I’d done wrong and, by the time Friday came around, I was starting to get quite down about it. What happened had also spark another fire of curiosity within me and that’s what prompted the most unusual question I’d ever asked anyone. My best friend (Jake) and I had made plans to go and see a new movie at the cinema and so I’d gone to his house after school. We were both sat on his bed, in our school uniforms, playing on his new PS5. My white and red striped socks were on display and so were Jake’s pure white cotton ones. Helpless: that’s how I felt. Despite losing badly in the game we were playing, I couldn’t keep my eyes on the screen. No, they kept coming back to settle on his feet. They were larger than mine. I’m still short for my age and my feet are needing to grow: I’m only a size 1 and a half but Jake is already a size 5! Though he is a little older than me – he’s already 11 after all. As I stared at both of our socked feet hanging off the edge of the bed, his looked massive compared to mine and that just made my new-found fascination grow even further. He wiggled his toes while he gamed, scrunching them up and stretching them out every single time he scored. And that’s when I felt the words that I’d been hearing in my head come tumbling right out of my mouth. “Jake… what do your socks smell like?” It felt as if the words hung in the air for hours. My heart pounded within my chest and I almost made a run for it, bolting out of the door and down the stairs before he’d have time to respond. Why had I asked such a stupid question? My best friend was definitely going to hate me now! Jake didn’t reply, at least not with words. In one quick, fluid movement, he raised up his left leg, the one closest to me, and pulled off his sock. Before I could do anything, the white fabric came quickly towards me. It sailed through the air and landed right in my face, hitting me on the nose. “You tell me,” he said, laughing as he continued the game. So there I was, laid on my best friend’s bed, playing on his PS5, with his dirty white cotton sock now sitting on my face. I reacted like most boys would: “Eww!” I cried out as my hand went to remove the offending item but, by the time I took hold of it, the scent of this eleven-year-old boy was already entering my nostrils. It was different to my own. Yes – I’d spent some time breathing in my own scent from my socks. They’d all smelled pretty similar except from the damp ones that Mr B had made me put back on: those were different and I couldn’t tell why. I’d still not put them in the washing basket. If I’m being honest with you guys, I’d held them up to my nose and taken in deep breaths every night before bed and though about what I’d done with Mr B and how much of a good boy I’d been. Jake’s socks were a harsher smell. Where mine etiler escort were almost sweet, his were saltier. Maybe it was all the sweat that he built up in them during the school day and that’s why there was such a strong smell. I suppose the reason didn’t matter but what did was the fact that my hand definitely didn’t pull the cotton sock away from my face. If anything, it pushed it harder against my nose and I took in deeper breaths. Of course, Jake noticed this. “What are you… do… do you like the smell?” I could do nothing but blush as I looked directly into his eyes, his scent in every breath that I took. “Ryan,” he said again, “You like my sweaty socks, don’t you?” I nodded and he chuckled, turning his attention back to the game. After a couple of moments, he spoke again: “My mum always complains and says they stink but I don’t smell it.” “They do,” I said, finding my voice although all that I could manage was a small sound, “It’s just… erm…” “A good stink?” he finished off my sentence for me. It felt as if my cheeks were about to explode with the depth of red they had reached but I managed to push through the embarrassment and just reply with a simple: “Yeah.” Jake seemed to think for a moment and then just left it with a single word: “Weird.” I have no idea whether I’d have been able to continue that conversation further or even what Jake was thinking because we were suddenly interrupted by his mum calling up the stairs and telling us that we needed to leave if we were going to make it to the cinema on time. Jake quickly grabbed hold of his sock, ripping it from my grasp and sliding it back on over his smooth-looking bare foot. About forty minutes later, we were at the cinema and settling down into our seats, our laps full of treats that we’d picked out ourselves from the concession stands. This was one of our first outings by ourselves – just me and Jake – our parents thought we should do more of these before we went to secondary school to help us become more independent. I’m not going to lie to you: I was a little nervous being left without any adults for so long but it also felt really good: properly grown up, you know? “Hey…” Jake nudged me, “Is that Mr B?” He gestured towards two guys who had just come in from one of the sides of the room. The lights had already begun to fade a little but it was possible that he was right although I couldn’t be sure. I told Jake as much and thought he’d just leave it there but, being the confident boy he is, he didn’t. “Yo Mr B!” he called out, his voice growing to fill the space between us on one side of the screening room and the two men who had just arrived at seats at the other side, a few rows down. One of the men turned, although the lights darkened further and I could only see his shadow but he waved over towards us so I took that to mean that my teacher was, indeed, here. Despite great effort on my part, I couldn’t focus on the start of the movie. My mind was full of the memories of how my teacher’s cock had felt in my hands. As you know, I’d not touched the skin, something I felt cheated by afterwards, and hadn’t really had that good of a look but I knew what the size felt like against my fingers and how the heat of his cock had seeped through the fabric of my sock and into my hands. In the pants of my school uniform, I could feel my own little ten-year-old dick starting to harden as I remembered that feeling. The same thing happened every time I thought about it and every single time I held my old socks up to my nose. I’d even tried to do the same thing to my little dick as I’d done to my teacher’s big thick cock but I had to stop because it made me feel like I was going to wet myself. By about halfway through, I’d managed to calm down enough that my dick had returned to normal. Unfortunately, the coke I’d been drinking had gone right through me and I had to leave to go to the toilets. By the time I reached the urinals, I thought I was going to burst and, as soon as my school trousers were unzipped and my little boxers pulled down at the front, I just released it all. I’m pretty sure I actually sighed out loud, relieved to have made it in time. It didn’t take long to finish up and tuck my boydick away inside of my pants but, as I turned around, I gave a small yelp in shock at what I found. I’d thought that I was alone in the toilets but I wasn’t. No, my teacher, Mr B, was there with me. His eyes were locked on me, a smile on his face. Even though I was still in my school uniform, he wasn’t dressed in the same way he’d been at school that day. Instead, it was more casual: a hoodie and some grey joggers. But, like always, he looked good. And, as my eyes moved down his body, I was drawn to the huge bulge in the front of his pants, the etimesgut escort outside of the fabric he was slowly stroking with his right hand. “Hello, Ryan,” he said, his voice deep and soothing, “I’m glad I picked the right cinema.” I must have looked confused so he carried on speaking as he stepped forward and closed some of the space between us. “I knew you and Jake were seeing this movie tonight.” “So… you…” I started speaking, unsure of myself. “Brought my boyfriend out on a date in the hopes of running into you.” He was close now, only a metre and a half away from me. I could almost make out his familiar aftershave. “B… boyfriend?” my voice was small and shaky. “Oh don’t worry,” he said, chucking to himself, “he’s cute but he’s nothing compared to my good little boy. My beautiful… sexy… good… little… boy.” With every word, he’d come closer and closer. Now, as he finished speaking, he was right in front of me. My head was tilted all the way back and looking up at him: my smaller frame and his huge one making from an enormous size difference between the two of us. The fingers of his right hand brushed against my cheek as he spoke softly. “You’ve been such a little tease this week, haven’t you Ryan?” I didn’t know what that meant so I just remained quiet, embarrassed. He continued: “Getting those sexy little socked feet out all the time in my classroom… fuck…” His voice deepened to almost a growl as I heard him use those naughty words again. His first finger traced over my lips, sliding back and forth as he continued to speak: “You’ve no idea how hard I’ve been all week. Fuck, Ryan. All week you’ve made my big, thick, pervy teacher cock so hard with your sexy little socked feet.” As he finished his sentence, I felt the pressure of his fingertip against the centre of my lips and I immediately gave in to it, allowing Mr B to slip his finger into my mouth and over my wet tongue. “You can’t even imagine the things I’ve thought about doing to you,” his finger pushed back and forth, in and out of my mouth, “Such nasty… naughty things for such a good boy like you. And you do want to be a good boy for me, don’t you Ryan?” Hearing him speak to me like that again made me instantly hard, my little boydick stiff as a nail in my pants. Of course, I nodded straight away and his smile grew wider. “Suck,” he said, pushing his finger further in and through my soft, red lips. Treating it as if it was an ice lolly, I pulled in my cheeks and closed my lips around his finger, starting to suck on it. He groaned and grabbed hold of my wrist, pulling my hand to the front of his joggers. I could feel that huge cock again, straining against the fabric: it was just as hard as mine but so much bigger. As quickly as it had started, his finger was removed but my teacher wasn’t finished with me yet. “Come on,” he said to me as he pulled me by the wrist and led me down the row of stalls and into the larger disabled toilet at the end. Once we were inside, he closed the lock and took a seat on top of the closed toilet. He pulled me over towards him and I found myself stood up between his legs, my legs resting against his thigh and both of his hands on my torso. “You’re so sexy, Ryan,” he said as he used a finger to lift up my chin so that our faces were facing each other: he brought his closer to mine. I had no idea what to expect but it felt as if there were literal fireworks inside of my head as my teacher’s lips met my own soft ten-year-old mouth. I heard him groan out as he kissed me and I’m sure that I made some of the same noises too. His lips began to move, opening slightly and then closing again, against my own and I started to mirror what he was doing. The warmth against my mouth and the sensation of his lips on mine was enough to make my entire body flash red hot like a fever had taken hold of me. I knew that I must be blushing intensely but I didn’t care. This was the most magical moment of my entire life and I actually felt a little part of me ache when he pulled his face away from mine again. “Wow,” he said, his voice soft again, “Yummy.” “You’re going to be a good boy for me again, aren’t you? You want to be the best boy, don’t you? You’ll make Mr B really, really happy.” I nodded, feeling so shy after our kiss. “No, no. You’ve got to tell me.” His hands stroked my back over the fabric of my school jumper. “I… I…” my body was shaking, “I want to be a really good boy.” His eyes urged me on, wanting more. “I want to make you happy, Mr B. I want to be a really, really good boy for you.” “Mmm,” he groaned, “Yeah, you do. Get down on your knees, boy. Between my legs like that, yeah… that’s right.” I positioned myself on my knees in front of his seat. From where my face now was, I could see just how huge etlik escort that bulge really was and it was only made worse when Mr B pushed his hand down the inside of the fabric. “You want to see it, don’t you?” he asked, “Good boys love seeing big cocks like mine.” “Please…” I whispered, “Please can I… see… it?” “Seeing as you asked so nicely…” with those words, he pulled down the front of his joggers and revealed his enormous piece of thick, meaty teacher cock. This time, it wasn’t hidden by the darkness and I could made out every single detail as they became etched into my brain. Every bit, every vein, the way his foreskin was pulled back exposing a very wet head to me: it became all there was. The rest of the world fell away and all that existed was me, Mr B and this amazing, huge cock. “He’s pleased to see you, Ryan. He’s been thinking about what a good boy you could be.” I smiled, giving a little giggle. “Show him how pleased you are too. Why don’t you give him a little kiss?” I moved forward, slightly, closing the tiny gap between where I was and Mr B’s cock and I put my ten-year-old lips on the head, making a kissing sound before moving away. “That’s a start, boy, but you need to kiss him like I kissed you. Be a good boy for me.” This time, when my mouth touched the wet surface of his cock, I moved my lips apart and started to rub them against the skin just like Mr B had done. “Fuck…” he moaned out, “That’s fucking it. Oh… good boy… good boy…” One of his hands ran through my hair while the other took hold of the base of his cock. “Look up at me, Ryan. That’s it. Now open your mouth as wide as you can… good boy… yes… now stick out your tongue.” I pushed as far as I could to get my tongue out of my mouth and, as soon as it was, Mr B used his hand to hit his cockhead against the wet, warm surface. It made quite a loud slapping noise but he did it a few times before starting to rub it up and down while holding my head back by my hair. “You know… really good boys do special things to please men like me,” he said, his big dick sliding up a little along my tongue, “We’re going to do one of those special things right now, Ryan. You’re going to be a really good little boy for Mr B. You’re going to suck my big, thick, pervy as fuck cock. There, in that bathroom cubicle, Mr B started my first ever lesson on how to suck a man’s cock. He taught me how to cover my teeth and how to suck on the head just like I’d done with his finger and on a thousand ice lollies and icepops over my ten years. Every step of the way, he’d tell me what a good boy I was. It wasn’t long before I had managed to get all of his cockhead into my little mouth, my lips wrapped tightly under it. “Fuck yes!” he moaned out under his breath, “Such a good fucking boy. Suck my fucking dick you little cocksucker!” I tried harder, sucking more like I was on a lolly and desperate to get to the special flavour kept on the inside. “Oh wow… wow…” my teacher was panting as he looked down at me with my little mouth stretched around his cockhead, “Mouth like a fucking vacuum. Fucking little schoolboy mouth. You’re a good boy, Ryan, such a good fucking boy.” I sucked more and more, harder and harder. My fingers wrapped around his shaft and he told me to stroke him like I’d done in the storeroom at school. My jaw was aching from being so stretched and my tongue squashed flat against the base of my small mouth. It wasn’t long before Mr B’s moans started to get louder. “I’m going to give you my spunk, Ryan. Good boys swallow spunk: good little ten-year-olds drink down spunk from men like me.” I had no idea what he was talking about but if good boys did it then I was definitely going to. “Be a good boy, Ryan.” His cock throbbed against my fingers. “Be a good boy.” The head swelled in my mouth, starting to pulse. “Be a fucking good little boy!” Powerful jets of cum fired from my teacher’s cock and straight into my waiting and willing mouth. He pulled back his cockhead, my lips now tight around about half of the head and I felt the liquid splash across my tongue. I tasted him: tasted what Mr B would be if he actually had a real taste and then, like he’d told me to, I swallowed it. More came, again and again, and I just kept swallowing and swallowing, gulping his spunk down just like a good boy would. When he’d finally finished, Mr B withdraw his cock from my mouth and covered it back up with his joggers. He stroked my hair and gave me another short kiss on the lips. After telling me how proud he was of me for being so good, he told me to go back to Jake and that he’d wait in the toilet for a bit and see me in school on Monday. I was on cloud nine when I returned to my seat and it wasn’t until I was settled there that a worrying thought occurred to me: I hope Jake wouldn’t be able to smell Mr B’s spunk on my breath. ********************************************** Drop me an email: ail I’d love to hear your ideas, feedback, thoughts, experiences, whatever you want. Hit me up and let’s chat. Let me know if you think this story is worth continuing or if I should leave it here.

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