Aaron, My Student

What I liked most about Aaron was the fact that he had no idea how hot he was. At age 19 he was at his physical peak: six foot one, buzz-cut brown hair, solid muscles, and a self-conscious smile surrounded by dense, dark stubble. Even at noon the five o'clock shadow of his beard was noticeable above his lips, on his nicely clefted chin, and down his rugby player neck all the way past his adam's apple. The stubble trailed off there but a couple of inches below the hair picked up again, thicker than ever as it curled over the collar of his t-shirt. He had hairy forearms too, and even when he wore long sleeves you could see the soft tufts on his wrists poking out. What was under the rest of Aaron's clothes I could only fantasize about. After all, I was his physics professor.

Aaron had been a student in my class during the spring semester. It was a small college, one that encouraged faculty to interact with their students. I had invited him to dinner a couple of times with some of his classmates, and since we hit it off it seemed natural enough to have him over on weekends during the summer while he stayed in town to work with the local landscaper and make spending money for the coming year. Certainly I had nothing sexual in mind. He was a stud, but I was in the closet. What's more, I didn't want to jeopardize our relationship. I was a new member of the faculty, only eight years older than Aaron. He looked up to me as a mentor of sorts, a big brother.

One July Saturday we decided to kill some time by playing a game of one-on-one basketball in my driveway. He was a superb athlete, fast, strong, and not only younger than me but also a couple of inches taller. Even so, I played hard, not wanting to let him off too easily. We worked up quite a sweat. Moisture plastered his gym-grey t-shirt to his torso; there were dark circles under his arms and trails of sweat down his front and his back. The workout was having the same effect on me, so I pulled off my shirt and tossed it on the side of the driveway. We kept playing, and I couldn't help but enjoy bumping up against him as we chased after rebounds. Aaron's shirt was now totally soaked. He had to be uncomfortable. "Take off your shirt for Chrissake," I said. "Aren't you hot?"

Even though we were both flush with effort, I noticed his face turn a darker shade of pink. He kept playing and for an awkward few seconds didn't answer me. "I'm okay," he managed to say.

After our game we headed to my back deck and fired up the grill. As I made burgers he gulped down ice tea and made small talk about his job and summer school classes. Then he fell silent. "You know," he finally blurted out, "I'm really embarrassed about..." His voice trailed off as he hesitated. "About what?" I asked. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It's just that I'm really hairy. In high school, some of the guys made fun of me because I have so much hair on my chest. I hate to take my shirt off. I haven't really even dated many girls because I'm afraid what they'll say when they see me without a shirt on. I rubbed my hand on his solid shoulder. His head hung down, afraid to make eye contact.

"Hey," I said, "it's okay." I told him that a lot of people got turned on by hairy guys. The hair made them look more masculine and rugged.

"I don't know," he said, "you tell me." He reached into his shorts to pull out the bottom of his shirt. Slowly, he peeled the sweat-damp fabric up and over his stomach, his mid-section, and then his chest. "What do you think?" I was afraid to answer, only because before me stood the most mouth-watering young stud I'd ever laid eyes on. He was definitely not too hairy, at least not for my taste. His shoulders, upper arms, and back were smooth. But there was a thick mat of brown hair swirling over each of his well-defined pecs and feathering over his collarbone. It was especially thick at the center of his chest, and from there it descended in a heavy trail of fur that spread out again over his washboard abs. It got more dense beneath his navel and trailed still lower down into his shorts.

He looked up at me, waiting for my reaction. "You're a stud," I told him. "You've got nothing to be ashamed of." He looked relieved. "You really think so?"

"Of course I do. Check out your abs," I told him, "you've got a six pack. Your chest is solid," I added, "and it even looks like you're building up some really powerful lats." He smiled when I said that and lifted up his arms to flex. He really did had a great V-shape, and his biceps and shoulders nicely framed his sweaty, hairy armpits. "Thanks," he said, "but what about all the hair?"

"I love it-" Oh shit, I thought to myself, why did I say that? I tried to back-pedal. "I mean, it really does look good on you. You were meant to be hairy. It just suits you." His smile got broader and more confident. "Well I love the hair on your chest, too," he said, jutting out his finger and grazing it over the light hair that fanned over my pecs. "C'mon," I giggled, "that tickles."

Then he stuck his hands under my arms and started to tickle me for real. "Cut it out," I yelled, laughing my ass off. Then he got more aggressive, grabbling me in a bear hug and slamming me down on the deck. He pinned my arms over my head with one hand and tickled me with the other. I couldn't control my laugher. His muscular body pressed down on me. I breathed in the sweet smell of his breath and the scent of his fresh teenage sweat. Soon, there was something else I couldn't control: my hard-on. I struggled to turn away from him, but he just pressed down more firmly. He ground his crotch against mine-and he was hard too!

Keeping my arms pinned, he stopped tickling me and stared into my eyes. He had a serious look on his face. "Here goes," he said, and then he pressed his mouth onto mine. I opened my lips and his tongue slid between them. He let go of my arms and placed his hands on the sides of my face as our tongues did battle. I ran my fingers over his close-clipped scalp, pulling his head closer as I reveled in his smell, his taste, and the feel of his stubble brushing against my chin.

Our tongues never lost contact as I rolled over on top of him. Now I held his face in my hands while his palms ran firmly up and down the length of my back. I withdrew my tongue, kissed his lips, and then licked the hollow of his neck, his adams's apple, and the cleft of his chin. I paused when I saw his wide grin. "What?" I asked.

"It's just that I've been waiting for this for a long time."

"Let's go inside," I said.

He followed me into the bedroom and let me push him back onto my king-size mattress. He raised up his arms as my tongue worked through the fur on his chest. I sucked on his nipples, licking away the hair so that I could nibble one and then the other. He moaned softly as I moved from his chest to his left armpit. I pressed my face into his damp patch of fur, inhaled deeply, and then licked him clean. I went to his right pit, marveling at how all of his muscles seemed to come together in those manly, hairy hollows.

I returned to his chest, licking down the center, flicking my tongue over the long, thick treasure trail that took me past his navel to the sweat-damp waistband of his tented shorts. As I tongued his dick through the cotton fabric he raised up on his elbows and tilted his head back, mouth open in bliss. He lifted up so that I could work off his shorts and jockeys. His beautifully clipped cock smacked back into its lush nest of hair. I buried my nose in his damp bush and took in the sweaty, musky scent.

"Suck me," he whispered. "Please, suck me."

My tongue went to work on his rod, licking up the wide shaft from the base to the blunt helmet. I lingered on the prepuce between his glans, flicking my tongue against that extra-sensitive spot. He cock twitched in response. Then I took him into my mouth-all the way in. I wasn't a particularly experienced cocksucker, and he was big, but I wanted him badly. He throbbed in my throat as my nose pressed into his bush.

As I built up a steady sucking rhythm, slowly pulling my tight lips halfway up his shaft and them plunging back down, he grunted and groaned. A few minutes later, after my tongue had been pressing on the underside of his hard cock and milking out a good bit of pre-cum, I changed venues and took his hairy, tightened balls into my mouth. Gently I tongued the salty flesh, softly working his churning plums.

I withdrew once more to raise his legs back against his shoulders and dive into his steaming crack. Here the hair was shorter, curlier, like the hair on his legs but more dense. I licked the moss that covered the hard chord of flesh between the base of his balls and ass-pucker, then circled around his hair-fringed asshole. Finally I dove in, tasting his funky ass lips and driving my tongue between them.

This caused him almost to shriek. "Yeah, that's it," Aaron called out, "right there." As I teased his hole with my mouth I circled his tight anus with my middle finger. Then I plunged it in. His sphincter contracted around it, but as I worked it in and out and wiggled it against his prostate, his teenage chute gave way. Soon I was fingering him at will, as his hole fluttered open to accommodate me. "Yeah, yeah, fuck me," he said.

"Are you sure you want it?" I panted, too horny to care about his answer.

Luckily, he groaned again. "Give it to me. I want to feel you inside of me." I reached into my nightstand, pulled out a condom, and rolled it over my cock. "This might hurt at first," I warned. "I'll try to go slow." I pressed his hairy legs back against his chest and mounted him. He winced as my flaring cockhead cleared his sphincter, but we were both too far gone to care about a little discomfort. I pushed in slowly, wanting him to enjoy this as much as I was. His mouth gaped open as I inched deeper, pushing forward a little bit at a time. Finally, I bottomed out. His ass felt like a velvet vice. It was so soft but so tight.

"I can take it," he panted. "Fuck me. Give it to me."

In and out I plunged, going fast and steady until I felt like I was about to shoot, then slowing down and changing my rhythm, then fast again. I was sweating heavily and I could feel the droplets of perspiration trickling down my chest and back and pits. I looked down and saw a bead of sweat hanging from my nipple. It dropped onto his chest and my tongue darted after it. I pressed my face into his pecs as I fucked, then into the hair under his outstretched arms.

Finally, I clamped my mouth over his, fucking his face with my tongue while I fucked his ass with my cock. I plunged forward, really rutting him now, feverish in my need to get off. He was bucking up against me, really into it. I could feel his hard cock twitching against my stomach.

"Oh God," he yelled, "I'm gonna come."

His dick spasmed and his asshole contracted as he shot one, two, three, then four volleys of come up his belly to his furry chest. That was all it took. "Yes! Yes!" I called out as I flooded the condom with my juice. I had never come so hard in my life. I collapsed onto him as he held me tightly, our panting bodies stuck together with sweat and come. He kissed me and I felt his dick hardening against me.

"Now it's my turn."