Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The classroom was clearing out.  All the parents had gathered their kids
and headed off to Little League practice and ballet lessons.  I was glad
that another day was coming to an end.  There was one little boy left in
the back of the room, occupied in a book, so I delayed for a bit,
straightening things out, waiting for mommy or daddy to claim the remaining
kid.

   After about 15 minutes, I was starting to get a little exasperated, when
there was a polite knock at the door.  The door was half open, so there was
no need to knock at all.  A hand reached around the door and pushed it open
all the way.  Immediately, I knew this was the little boy's daddy.  Dressed
in well-fitting business attire, a dark-haired man of about 38, wearing
wire-rimmed glasses, introduced himself to me.  "Hi, I'm Brandon's daddy. I
guess it's time for the little guy to go home." Brandon's daddy's voice was
husky and warm, so confident and so gentle.  He extended a hand, and, as I
placed mine inside his, I was flushed by the strength and warmth of his
grip.  Little black hairs lined the top of his hand, playing around his
gold wedding band, and, since his shirt sleeves were rolled up some, I
noticed a thick coat of these hairs covering his exposed forearm.  "Yup, we
gotta get going.  Mommy's got a nice dinner waiting, and daddy's still
gotta make a stop at the gym." I thought the latter information was a
little extraneous, but not surprising.  Even in his buttoned-down garb, he
had the frame of a real hunk.  His shoulders were broad, and the swell of
his chest was unmistakable as it stretched his cotton shirt.  For a guy who
normally doesn't see the appeal of the Daddy type, I could see it now. 
This paragon of nurturing manhood was making me melt.  As he looked down at
Brandon and me, his dark brown eyes burned with the love he must feel for
his child.  "Hey, Brandon, how's my little tiger?"

   I had forgotten the name of the boy and was grateful for his proprietary
referral.  "Brandon's a quiet little boy," I offered.  "I bet he would have
stayed here all night with his book if you hadn't come to pick him up."
"Oh, he can get lost in himself," smiled the daddy.  "He loves his books.
He won't go to sleep unless I read him a bedtime story." "I bet you tell a
good bedtime story," I blurted, thinking the obvious, how nice it would be
to have a daddy like Brandon's tuck me in.  Me, a man of 25, having these
feelings.  I bet Brandon's daddy has that effect on a lot of people.

   "You know, since we've both got some time, how about a little story
hour?" came the unexpected suggestion.  A surge ran through me, both at
Brandon's daddy's paternal presumption that, as long as he had some free
time, we would all have free time, and at the idea that he would actually
be reading to Brandon and me, as if I were on the same level as his 6 year
old son.  This totally mature man, in his masculine innocence, was offering
one of the kinkiest suggestions I had ever heard.  I braced myself for an
afternoon of bliss, priming my memory to capture every moment of the
experience.

   Brandon's daddy asked me where the story books were.  I showed him a low
bookshelf against the wall, full of large, colorful books.  He started
thumbing through some of them, brow furrowed as he looked for one that we
would all enjoy.  He finally settled on an old book that I hadn't recalled
reading.  On the cover was a handsome soldier at the train station,
obviously just returning from a war, hugging his wife and two small boys.
The title was, "Daddy's Home." Brandon's daddy approved of this book.  He
smiled as he silently turned the pages, nodding as he congratulated himself
for choosing such a good story for us to hear.  "Yes this is going to be a
good one," Brandon's daddy remarked, almost to himself.  I couldn't wait
for him to start reading out loud to us.

   I quickly found two small chairs, one for Brandon and one for me. 
Brandon's daddy pulled up the large office chair for himself, and settled
down in it, looking every inch the successful executive he clearly was, at
home wherever he found himself.  My chair was a little uncomfortable, the
curved plastic seat digging into my butt, but Brandon fit perfectly.  We
both gazed up at Brandon's daddy, Brandon wearing the look of an adoring
son, and I also, for different reasons.

   After a day of hyper kids and harried parents, the small classroom had
gotten a little stuffy.  Brandon's daddy asked if we had anything to drink,
so I got up to fetch the pitcher of Kool Aid, grabbing three Dixie cups
while I was at it.  By the time I got back, Brandon's daddy had loosened
his tie and opened the top button of his shirt.  I immediately took an
intake of breath.  Cousins to those hairs on his arm were sprouting out of
his collar in gorgeous profusion.  My heart was racing, my palms sweating,
and I hoped none of this showed.  With shaking hands I poured each of us a
cup of Kool Aid, handed the boy and the daddy their drinks, and then
settled down in my small chair.  The boy took his and drank it all up, and
then wanted more.  Brandon's daddy lifted his cup to his mouth and,
ever-so-slowly, started to sip it, looking down at me over the cup the
whole time.  What did this mean, I feverishly asked myself.  I tried to
hold his gaze, but broke away after a few eternal seconds.  Did this man
know what effect he was having on me?  Was this intentional, or was he
merely showing his gratitude for my watching over his son during the day?

   I couldn't analyze this any more, so I drank my Kool-Aid and waited for
Brandon's daddy to begin the story.  He finally finished his drink and,
placing the cup on the floor next to him, reached down to pick up the book.
"Now, guys, it's time for a story.  Is everybody ready?  Does anyone have
to go potty first?" I didn't know if this was a game or just his innocent
nurturing, so I passed.  The boy, however, at the suggestion of having to
use the toilet, shouted, "I gotta go!" And up he went, running to the
little john just outside of the classroom.  I was not expecting this moment
alone with Brandon's daddy, and my responsible, adult self was fighting
with the part of me that wanted to sit and pretend that I was a peer of his
six-year old's.  I was about to ask Brandon's daddy a responsible, adult
question, such as, "What do you do?", when he asked me a question.  "What's
a little cocksucker like you doing working with kids?"

   This question totally took me aback.  I was unprepared for such a
direct, obscene question from this gentle hunk.  I took him for an
innocent, doting dad, and now he was revealing an ugly side.  I flushed,
and felt angry at him for coming on to me only to trap me like this. 
"What's an ignorant man like you doing raising a little boy?" was my reply.
Instead of flashing another outburst, he gave me a smoldering smile, with
the corner of his mouth upturned.  Even at my most defensive, I felt
incredible desire for this jerk.  "Easy now, buddy.  I just wanted to see
what you were made of.  You may be a cocksucking little brat, but you don't
take shit.  I respect that." With this, he settled back in his chair and
opened his legs, hand resting on his inner thigh.  In my little kid's
chair, I was about crotch level with Brandon's daddy, so I followed his
lead with my eyes.  His cotton slacks were showing the outline of a real
baby-maker, stretching down the inside of his left leg.  Heat and confusion
overcame me.  Brandon's daddy had set me up, and with a few words and a sly
smile, had let me off the hook.  I was completely in this man's power.

   "What are you staring at?" the daddy demanded.  "I--I, um, I was just
looking at, um ..." Shit, I couldn't get it out.  His control and pure
force of will was too much for me.  Unwaveringly, he stared down into my
eyes.  "Well, answer me, you little brat.  You're behaving pretty badly,
you know.  I don't know if you deserve a story after this." The cotton was
stretching even more now against his leg, revealing more than I ever would
have dreamed.  He had put this expensive business suit on this morning,
encasing his well-built frame, without a shred of underwear.  I wondered if
he got hard often, and if anyone noticed or if he hid it well, or even if
he wanted people to notice.  I imagined him jerking off in his executive
bathroom, or, better yet, having some stacked blonde secretary blowing him
on demand, while he sat splayed in his leather office chair, like king of
the mountain.  I also realized that this conversation between us was
getting him really aroused, and that was something we had in common.  I
knew that anything else I said would be part of this unimaginably erotic
game.  I began to form words to keep the heat up, when the boy returned
from the bathroom.

   "I'm ready!  I'm ready!  I'm ready!" he yelled, and could I sympathize.
I envied this little boy his daddy, hoping that he would grow up queer with
pure, innocent, erotic memories of this fantasy man.  The heat was only
slightly turned down, now on a simmer.  I knew that, whatever happened, the
daddy and I would get something going.

   "All right, you two.  Settle down into your chairs.  We're gonna start
story time!" announced Brandon's daddy.  "And you both better behave, or
we're gonna have to cut it short." Since that was the last thing I wanted,
I vowed to myself to be on my best behavior.  Little Brandon did also, I
could tell.  We were brothers in this, wanting to please our daddy so we
would each get what we wanted.  Now that Brandon's daddy had set the terms,
I was on fire with anticipation of what might happen at the end. 
Wide-eyed, we both looked up at Brandon's daddy slowly opening the book. 
He turned a few pages and started reading.

   "By the end of World War II, many thousands of American men had lost
their lives in battle.  Those who returned home counted themselves
fortunate merely to be alive.  Some had nobody to return home to, but most
did.  Families of GI's waited in the villages, farms, and cities of
America, praying for the arrival of their men.  Private Doug West was one
such man, whose young wife and twin sons counted each minute until he
returned." At this point, Brandon's daddy showed us a picture of Private
West's wife and children kneeling in prayer by the children's bunkbed at
night.

   "Daddy, why are those people kneeling?" little Brandon asked.  "Well,
tiger," he answered with a wink towards me.  "The little lady and the young
boys know that if they pray, they will get what they want -- their daddy
back.  If your daddy went away, how would you feel, Brandon?" "I'd feel
pretty bad," said Brandon.  "I love my daddy." "I know you do, little guy,
and I love my boy.  And it's my responsibility as your daddy to take care
of you and to protect you.  That's what a daddy is supposed to do." This
interaction between daddy and son was really turning me on, aware as I was
of the erotic subtext.  "And son, if your daddy ever had to leave, he'd be
sure that you would still be taken care of." "Thank you, daddy," replied
Brandon, staring sweetly up at his massive daddy.  "You know, some boys
thank their daddies in really nice ways," teased Brandon's daddy, with a
glance in my direction.  My heart raced a little at that.

   "O.K.  Back to the story." Brandon's daddy wished to waste no time now.
I could see why.  His impressive bulge was now really straining the cotton
down his pants leg, and (I wouldn't believe this if I hadn't seen it
myself) a tiny bead of nectar was soaking through the fabric, right at the
tip of what I could only describe as the outline of a generous mushroom
head.  He must have been so turned on, and without even touching himself. I
felt like I could explode.  Something inside me couldn't believe how
obscene this whole thing was, Brandon gazing at his daddy while his daddy
was so plainly aroused.  I wanted so much to start sucking that beautiful
cock.  I was poised so perfectly.  I wouldn't even have had to get up.  I
could have just leaned forward, sitting as I was at crotch level to
Brandon's daddy.  He was obviously enjoying prolonging this, seeing me
squirm in my cocksucking heat.  He could wait if it meant making me wait.
Hell, this was probably getting him off more than anything.  I only prayed
that he didn't shoot that full load without letting me have a taste first.
This cruel tease continued as he read more of the story.  The room was now
buzzing with so much sexual energy that I hardly paid attention to the
narration.  His deep, resonant voice just had me hypnotized.

   With a flood of pleasure, I saw that my little playmate Brandon's eyes
were getting heavy.  His head started to droop to one side.  The bedtime
story was working!  The little kid was falling asleep, and during his
angelic slumber, I would taste heaven.  My mouth was so dry from
nervousness that I was afraid I wouldn't be able to serve Brandon's daddy
the way he needed and deserved.  My hand shaking, I picked up the pitcher
of Kool-Aid and poured myself a little cup, drank, and placed it down. 
Brandon had practically fallen out of his chair, totally lost in his
dreams. "Well, the little guy's out like a light," remarked Brandon's
daddy. "That's one down and one to go.  Would you like me to continue?"
"No, that's o.k.  I'm not really ready for bed, anyway," I said, unsure of
where to go from here.  But I needed no help.  Brandon's daddy knew exactly
what to do.  I felt so safe under his control.

   Brandon's daddy turned the book towards his audience, now down to one,
one more time, showing us a picture of a very muscular Private West,
stripped down to his waist, while his attentive wife drew his bath and his
children sat on the floor looking up at their hero-daddy.  I couldn't
believe this was in a children's book, but then I realized that everything
in this super-sexual environment would have erotic connotations.  "See how
the daddy is loved by his family," pointed out Brandon's daddy.  "They'd do
anything for him, and he'd do anything to protect them." "Yes, that's the
way it should be." I agreed wholeheartedly with Brandon's daddy's style of
family values.  "Boy, daddy's a little warm.  I think I'll strip down a
little." With that, Brandon's daddy rolled his shirt sleeves back down
again, preparing to remove his shirt.  He started to undo the remaining
buttons on his shirt, starting with the top and slowly, slowly unfastening
the rest.  As more and more of his magnificent swell of chest was revealed,
I could barely contain my passion.  Although it was apparent this man was a
bonafide hunk even attired in his business suit, I had no idea how
developed his upper torso would be.  The hairs that had enticed me earlier,
peeking out of his shirt collar, resolved themselves into a blanket of fur
lining his well-developed chest.  The second button revealed his fur-lined
pecs proudly swelling outward from his torso.  The fur swooped in and out
of the canyon of cleavage.  I was jealous of those hairs, all the time so
close to his majestic body.  With the upper half of his shirt spread open,
accentuating the v-shape of his torso in an extremely appealing way, he
lifted his arms up and slowly slid his tie all the way out of his shirt
collar.  With his mouth half open, and eyes half closed, he dropped it to
the floor by his feet, where I was sitting.  I was so tempted to pick it up
and inhale it, greedily demanding all my senses to come to strict
attention. I so wanted to ingest every odor of this man's body.  I was
dying for him to remove his shoes -- despite my earlier need to fill my
eager mouth with his cock, I now wished to worship his entire body. 
Knowing he had just finished a day at the office whetted my appetite to
gorge myself on his black stockinged feet, tonguing between his toes and
rubbing the tired soles of his feet.  I could imagine a hundred ways of
pleasing Brandon's daddy, with the culmination being that final flow of
released tension .  But, afraid that at any moment he might hurry home to
have his wife service him in a more traditional fashion, I concentrated on
that still growing cock, the stain of pre-cum spreading vulgarly out from
the head.

   The undoing of the third button broke my reverie.  Brandon's daddy
unconsciously spread his shirt wide at this point, allowing me to glimpse,
surrounded by that mat of hair, two sepia nipples, each about the size of a
half dollar coin, and wonderfully erect.  What I would have given to see
this man in his button-down shirt in the office, jacket casually slung over
his shoulder, and these two pencil eraser nipples pushing through his white
cotton shirt.  This beautiful man was clearly enjoying the show he was
giving me.  I detected some twitching underneath his pants leg and knew
that the moment would soon be at hand.  With a few more turns of his large,
agile hands, the remaining buttons were undone, his shirt open around his
mammoth chest and stomach.  Where his chest hair ended, just below his
pecs, a line of fur continued the line of his cleavage, traveling over the
ridges of his well-exercised stomach and down past his waistline.  His
stomach was perfectly smooth save for that column of dark hair, enticingly
blazing a trail past his navel and to points below.

   It was time for me to make my move.  Brandon's daddy, his shirt in
disarray around his torso, was sitting back in his chair, eyes now open and
looking down at me.  Although I could easily have reached him from my small
chair, I wanted him to know how eager I was to serve him.  I squeezed out
of the chair and got onto my knees, crawling to close the distance between
Brandon's daddy and me.  My universe had shrunken to the size of this
classroom.  All I could conceive of was to give this man the pleasure he so
rightly deserved.  Positioning my head between his legs, I looked up at
this beautiful man.  The view was breathtaking, seeing the ridges of
stomach tighten and release as he lolled back luxuriously in the chair.  I
inched my mouth closer to the object of my desire and slowly licked the
cotton of his pants, first tracing a line around the cock, to tease him a
little, then wetting the fabric covering his huge, aching cock.  I could
smell the musky odors rising from his crotch, and I was momentarily weak
with desire.  His cock twitched and grew, shifting around under those
constraining pants as I licked, kissed, and sucked on the material.  By
now, between my licking and his own prodigious pre-cum, his crotch was
almost saturated.  I reached up and undid his belt, unlatched his fly, and
slowly unzipped him.

   This unveiling was making me hotter than I had ever felt, but I resisted
the desperate urge to touch myself, eager to please Brandon's daddy more
than anything.  Like a wild animal released from captivity, his cock sprang
up and out of his pants.  I was amazed to see how truly endowed this man
was.  Looking up from the base of his cock, the light was blocked from
eyes. All in my field of vision was this towering shaft, engorged, veins
bulging, and a small volcano of pre-cum drenching the most perfectly-shaped
mushroom head I had seen.  His huge balls were twitching now, about ready
to release their potent baby-making juice.  I had to serve this virile man
fast.  I knelt into his crotch and took each ball in my mouth, gently
tickling the hairs of his sac with my tongue.  He moaned, and his balls
started twitching even more.  His strong hand found its way to the back of
my neck and guided my head up higher, to the beautiful shaft looming above
me.  He knew what he wanted and, even in the heat of his ecstasy, remained
in total control.  I was eager to give it to him, denying myself the
pleasure of touching my own hungry cock the whole time.  I just wanted to
remember this event with sheer clarity and spend the rest of my life
reliving it.  I started licking the strong shaft of his cock, slowly
creeping up to the head.  At this, he moaned so loudly I thought he would
wake the little boy up, but Brandon was fast asleep, no doubt having his
own daddy dreams.  After smothering his shaft with my wet mouth, I decided
it was time.  The head was overflowing with juice, signalling a very ready
man.  I unbuckled his pants the whole way.  Without having to guide his
cock, that beautiful mushroom found its way into my mouth.  I closed around
the head, taking a moment to appreciate the sheer size of this beauty.  It
damn near filled my mouth.  The sweet taste of pre-cum whipped me into a
frenzy, and I took the head and half the shaft down as far as it could go.
Slowly at first, then building up speed, my mouth became a willing cunt for
Brandon's daddy.

   Sucking that massive cock drove Brandon's daddy crazy.  "Take it hard,
you little cocksucker," he panted, almost loud enough to wake little
Brandon.  "You little brat, serve your daddy." Gladly, I kept worshiping
that manly shaft, which had thickened so as to fill my entire mouth, the
head down to the back of my tongue.  I was surrounded by his masculine
aroma.  "Oh, yeah, you little pussy, give daddy what he needs.  Oh, yeah,
daddy's lovin' it." I needed to see this man in his heat, so I turned my
eyes upward.  He had taken his glasses off but his shirt was still on, wide
open around his torso.  Beads of sweat lined his forehead, and his torso
glistened.  Sweat dripped from every hair on his chest, down his abs, and
into the thick bush of his pubes, treating me with more and more of his
dizzying musk.  This sight was so incredible, I only wished I could
memorize every frame.  I totally enjoyed being this man's pussy.  I wanted
this moment to last forever.  But, judging by the wild twitching of his
balls, this man was about ready to blow.

   I now started slowly pumping his cock with my mouth, knowing it would
prolong his orgasm.  As he started to come, I pumped slower and slower. 
"Oh yeah, boy, this is fucking amazing." I knew I was treating his cock
with the respect it deserved.  His wife's pussy couldn't give him this much
pleasure.  My mouth was an experienced and willing cocksucker.  His whole
body, hands, legs, feet, started going wild, uncontrollably flailing about.
Hot, thick streams of cum exploded into my mouth, pouring down my throat
like molten lava.  He had so much inside him, I wondered when was the last
time he came.  More and yet more of this golden nectar spilled into me.  I
kept pumping and he kept cumming.  It was amazing.  I glanced up one more
time, and he was regally sprawled out, his face glowing with an expression
of sheer pleasure, eyes closed., mouth gasping.  He was beautiful in his
moment of release.  After the last drops of juice shot into my throat, his
tension gave out and he pulled out of me, slumping back into his chair,
legs spread and still thick cock twitching with energy.  His cock was so
huge that even now, in its spent state, it sat against his thigh, bigger
than a baby's arm.  I was still incredibly hot, so I started touching
myself, hoping to come while staring at this man.  But his eyes opened, and
without a word to me, he quickly drew up his pants, buttoned himself up,
and commanded little Brandon to stir himself.

   "Okay, little one, it's time to go.  Daddy's still gotta make a stop at
the gym." I bet he does, I thought.  By then, he'd be ready to be serviced
by another willing cocksucker.  He looked down at me one more time before
gathering Brandon and winked.  "Take care of yourself and of my boy." You
bet I will!  As he left, I stole a glance at his full, trousered ass, pants
rubbing the bare skin underneath.  What a hot guy.  I only hoped he would
pick little Brandon up more often!

   As I slowly returned to earth and started cleaning up around the
classroom, I remembered something that made my heart leap.  In order to
observe the kids' behavior with each other, we periodically videotape the
whole classroom.  This afternoon was one of those sessions.  I ran to the
hidden camera and tape recorder, stopped it, and pulled out the tape. 
Running to the VCR, I almost fell over myself.  I dove to the monitor,
hitting the switch, popped the tape in and pressed the play button.  After
a few seconds of static, a room appeared on screen.  Fast forwarding, I
prayed the whole time I would see what I wanted to.  After a few endless
minutes, I played the tape.  What timing!  A hand reached around the door
and pushed it open the whole way!