You may be wondering...during my four years in the private boys' school which I attended, what was my favorite class? Well, I liked them all...but my favorite had to have been the ninety-minute gym class. Why? Because this was the only class where I could rid myself of the black constrictions that encased my legs, which were now starting to develop much more beautifully. As soon as the bell rang, I ran through the halls to get to the gym's locker room...just so I could change into my gym uniform!
And, what a uniform it was! The uniform was all black...a black short-sleeved shirt (with the school's crest on the left breast), black shorts (with the crest at the left thigh) and black sneakers. The black dress socks doubled as our gym socks. As I sat, fully-clothed in my gym uniform and putting on my sneakers, I glanced down and fantasized about how I would look laying face down at attention on the broad locker room bench with the other boys staring down at me...especially at the back of my legs. Ever since that day with Pierre and Jean-Paul, draped across the back of my thighs and knees, I have had such fantasies.
A shrill whistle aroused me from my reverie. It was the teacher, Mr. Michaels (a veritable Dennis Quaid look-alike), blowing his whistle, signalling the beginning of the class. We all ran out from the locker room and into the gym, an ocean of white amid waves of black. To start the class off, Mr. Michaels had us do our warm-up exercises...jumping-jacks, sit-ups, squat thrusts and, last but not least, push-ups. Now, with our hot blood rushing through our veins, we were ready to begin the day's class. Mr. Michaels, resplendent in his black gym uniform (like ours), paced back and forth, relating the course of what we were going to learn this day. As he did so, I took notice of the slightly bulging muscles in his well-contoured thighs and calves...well-proportioned and well-developed over years of working out as well as teaching. As he walked past me, I gazed at the back of his legs, the thigh and calf muscles tapering into the knees. But, the one thing that I really took notice of was how very little hair Mr. Michaels had on his legs. Possibly the result of working out.
When Mr. Michaels had finished telling us of the day's course, he called on me to demonstrate the exercise. In this exercise, I was to climb a rope and slip my feet through two handles...and dangle upside down. While I dangled there, Mr. Michaels placed his hands against my calves, sliding them down along my knees and thighs. As he explained my posture to the rest of the class, I realized just how gentle this man's touch on my legs really was. I was then told to put my hands behind my head and arch my back so as to give my body an angular pose. When I had done so, Mr. Michaels again stroked his hands against my legs, this time touching both the back and the front...and stroking my penis.
Then, it happened! I could feel the itch in my crotch and the tickle in my penis. No, I thought to myself. I can't let it happen now!
Slowly, the itching and the tickling subsided. Of course, Mr. Michaels was still touching my legs...but I managed to control my urge. As the demonstration ended, I began to clumsily remove my feet from the handles and fell to the mat. While the other boys laughed hysterically, Mr. Michaels approached me and whispered to me. It appeared he wanted me to come to the gym later that evening and he would help me with my awkwardness. He also told me to dress in my gym uniform for the tutoring.
After gym class was over, I redressed in my school uniform and went to my other classes. But, all through the rest of the day, I dreamed about returning to the gym later that evening in my gym uniform...and feeling Mr. Michaels' gentle hands stroking my legs once more. When the final school bell rang, I immediately made my way to the gym, only to find the doors locked. I pounded on the door. Mr. Michaels, still dressed in his gym uniform, unlocked the door from the inside and welcomed me into the gym, re-locking the door after I entered.
As Mr. Michaels went into his office, I entered the locker room, went to my locker and changed into my gym uniform. But, I hadn't noticed that Mr. Michaels was watching me the entire time while I was dressing. When I was finished, I rushed into the gym, nearly colliding with Mr. Michaels, who was exiting his office. He told me to take the same pose I took for the class's demonstration. I climbed the rope and hooked my feet through the handles. As I dangled there, upside down, I not only found out how loving Mr. Michaels's hands were upon my legs...but how wet his tongue was as well.
To my amazement, Mr. Michaels was not only touching the back of my bare legs...he was licking them!!! I was then that I also discovered just how strong his teeth were as he bit the back of my legs...first, my thighs...then, my calves...and, finally, my knees. As I dangled there, whimpering so slightly with tears rolling out from my eyes, Mr. Michaels licked the back of my legs once more, all the time relating how he will see to it that worse things would happen to me if I ever told anybody about what he was doing.
Mr. Michaels helped me down from the rope and accompanied me into the locker room, where he continued physically "assaulting" me. As i had fantasized, Mr. Michaels had me lie face down upon the broad bench and got on top of me, placing his knees upon my head. Holding my hands at my sides, he once again began licking and chewing the back of my legs, fervently smacking his lips each time he raised his head. After he dismounted, he unzipped his shorts. Then, towering over me, he exposed his manly penis and began stroking it. Soon, his cum began gushing out onto the back of my legs. It was so surprisingly cool that I began to calm down and accept what was happening to me. When his cum had petered out, he reached down and began to smooth it all over my thighs, knees and calves with his bare hands! To my amazement, I wasn't feeling abused or assaulted anymore. Just like that day, when I was playing with the brothers and Jean-Paul's saliva was running down the back of my knee, I was actually beginning to love the feel of Mr. Michaels's smooth white cum soaking my legs.
When he had finished, Mr. Michaels replaced his penis inside his underwear, zipped up his shorts and took the same position on the bench as I had and, as I mounted his back, reached up and grabbed the back of my knees. Ecstasy was indeed etched on my face as I began to lick and chew his thighs, knees and calves. His muscles were so lean and well-defined that each lick and bite were sheer pleasure. Then, feeling the itching and tickling that I had earlier that day in class, I now decided to follow my urge. I rose to my feet, extended my penis and, stroking it vigorously, cummed Mr. Michaels's thighs, knees and calves, kneeling when I was finished and spreading the cum all over his well-proportioned legs.
When all was finished, we sat together on the bench and looked at each other, panting and sweating. I could see the look of ecstasy on Mr. Michaels's face...and he could see it on mine. When we had retreated to the showers to wash the now-dried cum off each of our legs, we spoke about meeting again and repeating the night's "performance".
However, Mr. Michaels and I would have only a few more nights of sexual gratification together. Halfway through my sophomore year, Mr. Michaels stopped coming to the gym. What happened to him? Was he already dissatisfied with me? Was what he was doing to me discovered? Was he terminated?
Terminated!
What a strange choice of words. Yes, he was terminated...for the police found him dead in his apartment in town. He was found hanging from the rafter in his livingroom, clad only in his tee-shirt and boxers...his neck, throat, arms and legs shredded and bloodied. Apparently, I thought, another "student" was not as satisfied with Mr. Michaels as I was.
To this day, I still dream of Mr. Michaels's loving touch and of how he made me discover myself.
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