3 comments/ 35834 views/ 25 favorites Mr. Harwood By: CleanCutCub18 DISCLAIMER: THIS STORY IS A WORK OF FICTION, AND ONLY THAT. THIS IS NOT A REAL STORY, AND NOTHING LIKE THIS HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME. THIS IS A STORY FORMED TO EXPRESS A CERTAIN FANTASY I HAVE HAD FOR A FEW YEARS NOW. ANY LIKENESS TO REAL PEOPLE IS A COINCIDENCE AND UNINTENTIONAL. PLEASE DO NO COPY OR STEAL THIS. I CREATED THIS FOR A FRIEND OF MINE. ENJOY. My heart thudded as I walked down the hall of my dorm room and opened the door into the hall of teacher's offices. Everything was silent save for the distant noise of people talking far away from where I was standing. I looked to my right down the stretch of hallway and then looked straight ahead toward what we called at school "The Cave Entrance", a long corridor that connected our dorms to the dorms next door. Along with connecting the two dorms, the corridor also connected our dorm to another basement-like setting that held more offices for our teachers. This was my destination. I straightened my red tie and my grey sweater-vest, and in the process adjusted my backpack. With a deep breath I moved forward through the "Cave Entrance" and made my way toward the set of offices on the other side. Once past the second door I found myself at the first office, which housed the only two Computer Science instructors in the school. Almost every teacher was required to share their office with another instructor in order to conserve space. My destination was at the end of this hallway. Taking another shallow breath, I put one foot in front of the other and set my eyes for the office at the end, belonging to my English instructor, Mr. Harwood. He had e-mailed me about an hour previous to my current journey, asking me to come by his office and answer a few questions on an essay I had written for his Ancient Literary Works class. I knew it wasn't my best work, and it was under the page limit that he requested by a paragraph, but I just hoped he wouldn't yell at me. The teachers here could be ruthless, but I didn't think Mr. Harwood would be all that angry with me over missing a tiny paragraph. After a few more steps I finally reached the end of the hallway and stood in front of the plain office door. On it hung a metal plate engraved with Mr. Harwood's name and the name of another teacher alongside it. The other teacher, Ms. Gregson, was on a leave of absence due to the death of her husband. Mr. Harwood had been teaching her classes since she left. Light could be seen through the cracks of the door from a lamp. I inhaled a deep breath of air and tapped lightly on the faux wooden door. I paused and listened for a response. Nothing happened for what seemed like an hour, but then I knocked on the door again, a bit louder this time. I could hear a stir of movement, perhaps the shifting of papers, on the other side of the door and then heard my heartbeat sound in my ears. "Come in!" A gravelly voice hollered from beyond the door. I turned the handle of the door and opened it slowly. A cool gust of air conditioned air flushed against my skin. "Oh, hello, Dawson," Mr. Harwood said to me, motioning for me to close the door. "Take a seat." Mr. Harwood was a slightly tall man with thin glasses, about the age of thirty-seven. His salt-and-pepper hair was always disheveled in an almost-on-purpose sort of sense. He was what some would call lanky, with long limbs and delicate but manly hands. He wore a button up dress shirt with thin blue stripes and a yellow tie. He also wore a pair of jeans and some casual dress shoes. The best way to describe him would be sophisticated, yet casual. He was extremely attractive. "Dawson, I e-mailed you earlier about a paper you wrote for my class, and I wanted to get some of my questions answered, if you don't mind?" Mr. Harwood asked. "No, I don't mind, Mr. Harwood," I replied and smiled in a personable way. "Good," he said. "Let's start with your topic. You chose to explore homosexuality in the tale of Gilgamesh, correct?" "Yes, I did." "It was a very interesting topic. Very well written, with very good ideas, but slightly underdeveloped in it's premise." "Oh? How so?" I asked. "Well," at this time Mr. Harwood began to flip through my essay laying on his desk. "The point you made on Gilgamesh loving Enkidu was never fully developed. You simply let the reader, that is me, know he loved Enkidu and then never developed the point. Why?" "Because, it is an obvious fact in the story of Gilgamesh. The text continually said Gilgamesh loved Enkidu more than anyone." I replied. "While that is true, you never cited any of that text. Here," Mr. Harwood passed me a copy of Gilgamesh. "show me." I took the text in my hand and began flipping through the pages. After finding the correct passage I pushed the text across the desk to Mr. Harwood, using my hand to direct him to the text. "As you can see, Mr. Harwood, the text says GIlgamesh loved Enkidu more than anything." Mr. Harwood reached across the desk and put his hand down on the text, simultaneously brushing against my hand. It seemed like an innocent accident and I moved my hand away quickly before he noticed where his hand was. "Ah, yes, well I wished you had cited this text," Mr. Harwood said. "Yeah, me too." I replied and chuckled a bit. "I apologize, Mr. Harwood. I should have paid more attention to what I was writing." "It's fine, Dawson," Mr. Harwood's hand had found the tip of my fingers again, but this time seemed a little more intentional. I sat there for a second, waiting for him to continue with corrections I needed to make, but he was silently gazing over my paper. "It's so interesting..." Mr. Harwood said. "What is?" I asked. "The story of Gilgamesh and Enkidu, and how you wrote about their love for one another. It's also interesting how views on a topic such as this have changed so dramatically over the years. About homosexuality, that is." His hand brushed mine and began to move over the knuckles of my hand. I thought about moving my hand away again, just thinking he was doing it unintentionally, but stopped myself to see where this was headed. "Yes, it is. It's a very interesting topic, especially to me and--" I stopped talking after realizing what I was implying. I had admitted to many people my sexuality, but not very many teachers. It just seemed unprofessional to do so, and an overstep of boundaries. Mr. Harwood looked at me and smirked with the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry, Dawson, I'm not a judgmental person. To each their own, right?" Mr. Harwood said. His hand still touched mine lightly, but began to cover them even more. "It's just not in my nature to share that personal side of mine with teachers . . ." I replied. His hand had officially enveloped mine as I spoke. I shivered as the heat from his hand began to warm mine. I always had poor circulation, and his hand seemed to be like a miniature furnace. Mr. Harwood's thumb began to stroke the top of my hand back and forth. "I, um, I ought to go, Mr. Harwood..." I said, feigning ignorance. "Why don't you stay, Dawson? I've got a few more questions for you about something other than this essay, if you don't mind?" Mr. Harwood asked, smiling. My mouth went dry. I didn't know what to say, because I understood what he was implying, and I was shocked. This seemed to be going somewhere beyond simple class work. "Uh . . . sure, sir." I said. "Good." Mr. Harwood stood up, releasing my hand and walked over to his office door and locked it. The click sounded like the cocking of a gun. My hear sounded like it was going to leap out of my chest. Mr. Harwood seemed completely at ease as he walked toward me and sat on the top of his desk, crossing his legs at the ankles and smoothing out his tie. "So, how long have you been fawning after me?" he asked. My heartbeat quickened at the question to the point I felt I would faint there on the spot. "Wh-What are you talking about, Mr. Harwood?" "I see you, sitting there in my class, looking at me. All of me. You, and the other half of your class. Why are you all so attracted to me? I'm a thirty-something year old man with grey hair. I'm an English teacher, for God's sake." "I, uh, don't know, sir. I just, uh, I just . . ." "You 'just' what?" he asked and crossed his arms. "You're just attractive. The way you move about, so deliberate. So sophisticated. So languid. You lure us in. Your intellect charms us, and I, um, think you look good as well." I replied, mustering a bit of courage to get it all out. "A man, old enough to be your father, is attractive to you?" Mr. Harwood asked, shifting just slightly on his desk. "Um . . . yes." I replied. Silence ensued for a few moments before he replied with another question. "Have you ever been with a man my age, Dawson? Sexually, or romantically, I mean?" My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. "No, sir, I haven't. I've only ever been with one guy before, around my age. That lasted about two weeks, so we never did anything." I replied, my courage pushing me through regardless of the nervous shaking I felt wrack through my whole body. He chuckled and then a calm, solemn expression flitted across his face. He leaned forward, almost moving off of his desk, until his face was close to mine. I could smell the Altoids on his breath he was so close. I could see the color of his eyes, predominately green with flecks of blue in them. He looked so calm only inches from my face. "If you're okay with it, Dawson, would it be appropriate if I--" He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence. With another surge of courage I leaned up and parted my lips just slightly until I was kissing Mr. Harwood. I was kissing my English teacher in the middle of his office. I tasted the mint I had smelled just moments before and it tasted delicious. Without thinking, I reached up and pulled Mr. Harwood closer to me and pushed my tongue into his mouth. He replied by pushing his tongue out to play with mine. I didn't understand what was happening right now, but I didn't really give a flying fuck. I was kissing a man I had fawned over for the past year and a half. It was glorious. I was reveling in the achievement and could feel that Mr. Harwood had been waiting to do this for awhile. Finally, we broke the kiss to gather air in to our lungs, but I was after his lips before I could contain myself. I stood up, shedding my backpack and leaning in to my teacher on his desk. He had wrapped his arms around my medium-sized frame and pulled me closer in to him so that I was basically straddling his right thigh. Frantic, I broke the kiss and looked at him, panting. "Dawson, we can stop anytime you want. Is this okay? Is what we are about to do okay with you? And will you promise to keep it between us?" Mr. Harwood panted, almost at the volume of a whisper. As a reply, I reclaimed his lips and teased his tongue out into my mouth to play. While doing this I straddled his leg harder, rubbing back and forth over his thigh. I could feel myself growing harder in my pants than I had been in a very long time due to the excitement and the forbidden feeling I got from the situation. It was a major turn on. This turn on heightened when I could feel Mr. Harwood's own member push against my own thigh as we kissed. I reached down between us and moved my hand up his thigh until I was almost touching his hard cock. "Is it okay if I . . .?" I asked after breaking the kiss just slightly. "Yes, do it, please!" he begged and pushed his crotch toward my hand. I began rubbing him through his jeans, feeling the length and girth grow as I pressed down on him. All of a sudden I felt a moan escape his lips against my neck and I felt a surge of euphoria run through my body. I broke the kiss and began kissing Mr. Harwood on the neck, nipping and sucking at the scruffy beard and flesh here and there. While doing this I continued rubbing him through his jeans and felt his hands begin to explore my own body. Slowly they made there way to my sides and eventually moved all the way down to my ass, which he began rubbing and kneading in to. I hitched into his grip and moaned into his neck as I bit lightly into his skin. Removing my hand from his crotch, I pulled the tie loose from his neck and unbuttoned his shirt, which exposed his bare skin. Keeping the tie around his neck, but pushing his shirt off, I began to kiss his collarbone and his chest. "Here, let me make you more comfortable," Mr. Harwood said and pulled my sweater-vest off of me, then helping me take off my own button down and discarding my tie behind me in the seat. It wasn't long before Mr. Harwood reclaimed my lips. I leaned forward and kissed him harder and then returned to his chest, which was average. Not full muscled, but not old skin. It was lightly dusted with a few hairs in the center of his chest, all light colored. Slowly, I moved my lips down and began kissing his nipples, which he apparently liked due to the small whimper he let go from his lips. I licked, sucked, and kissed his nipple until I felt he was worked up enough to move forward. As I began kissing down his torso I unbuttoned his belt and jeans, pulled off his shoes and socks, and then pulled his pants off until he was clad only in underwear on his desk. A bulge protruded from his boxer briefs, which looked very alluring. Bending down I began teasing his cock. I kissed the head through the fabric and put my lips on the shaft, moving in a back and forth motion until I felt his penis move in anticipation. Mr. Harwood was brushing his hands through my hair as he tried to hold back his moans as I teased him. With deft hands, I pulled down the front of his underwear and looked at Mr. Harwood's cock. It was about six to seven inches long, and a little thick with veins running over it. It was enticing, and so I leaned over and put the head in to my mouth. I sucked it and swirled my tongue on his cock as I heard him moan a little louder, holding tight on my hair. This continued for a few minutes until Mr. Harwood decided it was time to have his own fun. He pulled me up gently by the arm off of his cock and kissed me hard. He then undid my jeans and began stroking me as we kissed, pushing my underwear and jeans off in one quick move. I was in heaven. My toes curled as Mr. Harwood continued his ministrations and I thought I would go over the edge right then, but then he stood up and sat me on the desk, moving himself down my body and then sucking my penis. I held myself back and tried to count numbers to keep from falling off the edge of pleasure, but it was getting more difficult to think of other things by the minute. Before too long I felt Mr. Harwood's fingers at the entrance to my arse, fondling and massaging the area delicately. His hands felt so warm, I thought I would blow right then and there. "Stop sucking, or I'm going to blow right here!" I whispered urgently at him. Mr. Harwood stopped at my command, but continued to finger my ass. With a smile up at me, he took out a finger and spit on it and then stuck it back at my entrance, moving it in slowly and out until it went suddenly past the muscles there. I about cried out from the hot, yet pleasurable pain. He never broke eye contact as he thrust his finger deeper into me, slowly adding another two fingers as I stretched open. "Are you ready, Dawson?" He asked, smirking. I nodded and moaned quietly as he kept his fingers wedged inside of me. Mr. Harwood stood up, never moving his fingers, and then placed his cock at my entrance. I braced myself and then felt the head push in to where his fingers had been, slowly stretching me even more open than before. It felt like a hot iron was entering me, for all I knew. But I didn't care, because I was with a man I had dreamt about for ages. This man, who I had fantasized about night after night for a year and a half, was making love to me. It was the best moment I had ever experienced when he finally pushed in as far as he could, feeling him flush against my body and inside of me. Taking a moment to let me adjust, Mr. Harwood began to pull out of me and then move back in. He did this over and over again until it began easy enough to just slide in and out. It was a little awkward, but felt so amazing at the same time. He leaned down and kissed my neck and then my lips as he began to pick up his pace, pushing deep into my ass. My whole body felt ablaze with heat and passion and lust as Mr. Harwood kissed me hard and buried himself in me. "Oh, God, yes . . ." I moaned into his lips as he hit the right spot. When he figured out the spot he hit, he continued thrusting at that spot until I felt I was going to burst again. "I'm going to cum," I moaned. "Let's do it together." Mr. Harwood said and began thrusting into me harder than before, grabbing my cock and jerking me off as he did so. It wasn't long before I could feel the hot, sensual feeling begin to burn in my stomach and realized I was going to explode. With a few more strokes and pushes, I erupted in his hand and every muscle inside me tensed up, clenching around his cock as he continued fucking me. After finishing me off, it didn't take long for Mr. Harwood to cum either, pulling out of my ass and stroking himself over my own cock. We were both panting and smiling and kissing at the end, having enjoyed ourselves very much. "So . . . what now?" I asked, kissing Mr. Harwood's neck. "Well . . . let's just say, you got an A on that paper of yours," He smiled and kissed me hard on the lips. "Now, get dressed before anyone shows up." I chuckled and obeyed, getting off of his desk and throwing on my clothes, but not before Mr. Harwood slapped my ass teasingly and began to dress himself. After getting dressed and cleaned up, we looked at each other longingly. "Be here, this time, next week. We'll try some other stuff out," Mr. Harwood said and kissed me deeply before returning to his desk. I smiled, winked at him, and left the room to go back and take a shower. It was the beginning of something new and exciting, which I would experience again and again over the remaining semester of school.