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Your head is lying on my chest, with your hair tickling my skin. My right arm encircles you, my fingers lightly stroking the soft skin of your back. Time seems still as we lightly stroke each other, our breathing becomes synchronized. Occasionally, one or the other of us reaches for our glasses of red wine. We lean together, our lips meeting, and we taste the wine on each other’s lips. Your hand strokes my chest, and delves lower. I let out a deep sigh as your hand nears my semi-tumescent cock. Your fingers lightly stroke along the underside of my lengthening cock. My hand strays lower down your back. My fingers tease and stroke the top of your cleft. Your hand encircles my cock, slowly stroking me up and down. As you do so, you feel the blood entering my rod, and it thickens in your hand. Your thumb lightly tests my cockhead, inquiring as to whether I have produced any of the pre-come that you love so much. Your thumb’s quest is rewarded, and you feel the silky slickness as it. His mouth opened to accept my eighteen-year-old manhood. My cock slid completely into his mouth. His nose was on my stomach as he sucked and licked my penis. He stopped just as abruptly as he started. “Timmy, it has come to my attention that you had sex yesterday in the boys shower room with members of the Rugby Team. Is that true?” “Yes sir, but I was forced. There were four really big seniors and they made me do all those things against my will.” Now it seemed the tables had turned. I was no longer in-charge. Mr. L. pushed me over the desk with my ass high in the air. My feet were just touching the floor. “You are a little liar,” screamed Mr. L. “I know you enjoyed it as much as they did. Now you will receive punishment for lying to me.” Mr. L. retrieved his paddle from his desk drawer. He began to paddle each cheek of my ass. Each time he hit my ass it sent electric shocks to the tip of my ragging hard-on. After about twenty smacks of the paddle, I began to cry like the little.
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