Seducing Professor Coyle (5 page)

“Sure,” Ben said. “Go talk to him. I’ll stay here and guard the tree.”

Wayne gently grasped Ben’s chin. “You’ve got amazing eyes, college boy. I’ll find you later.”

Ben watched him walk away, greeting his friend at the bar with manly hugs and slaps on the back. He tried to feel betrayed at being left hanging, but he couldn’t seem to make himself care.

Looking down, he was shocked to see he’d nearly finished his second cocktail. “Whoa.” He giggled. He felt good and numb, no longer self-conscious in this odd place. The air smelled fresh and clean with newly cut grass. Putting his drink on the ground, he looked up at the canopy of blossoming branches. “You finish that,” he told the tree. “My treat.”

He wandered away from the party, unsteady legs leading him toward the line of festively lit cabanas.
Just going for a walk. No motive here. Tra la la
.

A group of men entered one of the small cabins, laughing as they closed the door behind them. When Ben reached the cabanas, he rounded the back of them and crept down to the furthest one—the one he’d seen Dr. Coyle enter with his boy toy.

He bit his lip to keep from gasping when he passed the small window. No curtain. He was treated to an unhindered view of the goings on inside.
Ben,
w
hat are you doing, you perv?
He told himself to walk away. This wasn’t his style, spying like a creeper. But he couldn’t look away, nailed to the ground where he stood.

Dr. Coyle was sprawled back on a reclined lounge chair, legs spread, bare feet brushing the floor on either side. The back and buttocks of the blond boy were visible, his head bobbing up and down on the professor’s cock. Coyle’s mouth was set in a grimace, teeth clenched as his fingers gripped blond hair, thrusting his hips up into the boy’s mouth. Ben’s cock swelled painfully, his breath quickening. He couldn’t believe he was looking at the same stuffy man he’d watched lecture about Dickens and Steinbeck all semester, the same man who’d eyed him condescendingly in his office earlier that day, looking so refined and superior.

He glanced around nervously. He stood in the dark shadow of the cabana, and was reasonably sure no one could see him, so he allowed himself another peek. Breathing heavily, he studied Coyle’s body. He definitely worked out. His stomach was flat, cut muscles visible as his ribcage shifted with each breath. His chest wasn’t overly developed but his pectorals looked firm. Biceps popped as he kneaded the boy’s head, and his lower arms were tanned and taut, a dusting of dark hair stopping just above his wrists. The professor’s brow was dewy with sweat, damp dark hair drying in short ringlets around his neck as he pumped himself into the boy’s eager mouth.

“So you like to watch.”

Ben whirled around, nearly losing his footing, and saw Wayne the military dude standing behind him in the shadows. Humiliation coursed through him, sobering his arousal. He didn’t know what to say.

Wayne moved toward him, and Ben could make out his white teeth gleaming with a grin. “It’s okay,” he said. “I won’t tell.” He put a hand on Ben’s shoulder as he gingerly peeked in the window.

“I was just bored,” Ben whispered. “I don’t...I mean I’m not...”

“It’s
okay
,” Wayne whispered, squeezing his shoulder. “I can see what’s got you so fascinated. Do you know them?”

Ben swallowed hard. “One of them is...”

“What?” Wayne asked, his voice soft. “An ex-boyfriend? No shame in that, my friend. I’ve spied on an ex or two in my time.”

Ben shook his head. “No. One of them is...my teacher.” He winced.

Wayne went still, raising his eyebrows, then glanced through the window again. “I see.” He grinned back at Ben. “I take it you mean the one on the
receiving
end.”

Ben nodded.

Wayne watched through the window for nearly a minute, then turned to face Ben. “And do you like what you see?”

Ben’s face heated again, but this time his humiliation was ebbing, replaced with a sense of danger, his erection springing back to life. “I guess I do.”

Wayne approached him, stepping up until their faces were close enough for a kiss. “Then keep watching,” he said, and dropped to his knees.

Ben sucked his breath in when he felt Wayne unzip his pants, tugging them down over his hips. “No,” he whispered. “Don’t, Wayne, you don’t have to—”

“Shhh.” Wayne looked up at him, fingers gripping Ben’s cock. “You know you need it. Let me give it to you.”

Ben nodded, panting as Wayne took him into his mouth, wet tongue swirling around the head of his cock. Wayne’s mouth drew back and he looked up at him again. He pointed to the cabana window. “Watch,” he commanded.

Ben’s legs felt about to give out, his stomach tightening at the forceful tone of Wayne’s voice. Wayne palmed his cock again. His eyes shifted up to Ben, reflective in the moonlight, and he quickly tore open a condom and rolled it onto Ben’s eager boner, making him gasp.

“I can’t...I...this isn’t right, I can’t spy on him.”

Squeezing Ben’s cock, Wayne pumped it twice, nearly making Ben cry out. “I said,
watch
. That’s an order.”

Arousal shot through Ben, making his ass clench, electric pleasure riding up his cock as Wayne took him in his mouth again, sucking him hard and fast. “Yes, sir,” Ben whispered, and looked through the window.

His breath hitched. The pair had moved locations...and positions. Coyle had the blond bent over the back of a small sofa, hips thrusting as he drove himself into his ass. The blond boy’s mouth hung slack, his face a picture of ecstasy, eyes closed as he let the older man take him. With one hand, the professor’s fingers dug into the boy’s buttocks, the other placed firmly on his back, holding him in place while he pumped his cock in and out.

Wayne’s rhythm on Ben’s own cock quickened, and he heard the sound of a zipper. He glanced down and saw Wayne unleash his own thick hard on, working himself with his other hand as he continued to service Ben. His mouth was hot and urgent, tongue gliding along Ben’s length, the sensation dizzying. Ben looked back through the window, his vision blurring, head spinning as tendrils of scalding pleasure coursed through him. He felt his release coming. Through the window, Dr. Coyle gripped the boy’s hips and slammed himself against his ass, letting out a loud, guttural cry.

Coyle’s face twisted with orgasm, head thrown back as he pumped out his release.

As he watched Dr. Coyle come, Ben exploded into the condom, Wayne’s lapping tongue bringing him over and prolonging the ecstasy. Wayne tightened his lips around Ben’s dick, surrounding him with velvet heat, milking the last of his seed. Ben’s legs buckled and he fell forward, his palms slapping hard against the cabana on either side of the window.

The sound was too loud, and inside the cabana, Dr. Coyle looked up. Directly at the window. Directly at Ben.

Ben jerked back, pushing Wayne off of him. “Shit!” he said, tugging his pants up. “Shit, shit, he saw me.”

Wayne stood, zipping up his own pants, his lips slightly swollen. “The teacher?”

“Yes,” Ben said, hopping as he yanked his pants over his hips. “Oh, shit, this is bad.”

“Go!” Wayne pushed him toward the trees. “Hide, I’ll cover for you.”

Ben stumbled for the tree line, his legs wobbling with drunkenness and post orgasmic numbness. When he reached the wooded crop, he dove, tumbling onto a patch of moss.

“What the fuck do you think...” Dr. Coyle’s familiar voice drifted off in the night, and Ben scrambled back and peered out through the scrub of branches. Wayne gestured apologetically to Coyle, who stood with a towel wrapped around his waist, his body language hostile, arms curved at his sides.

“Sorry man,” Wayne bellowed with feigned drunkenness, hands up in front of him. “I had too much to drink. Fell right into the wall. Sorry to disturb you.”

Ben heard Coyle’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words. He sounded angry, but after more words from Wayne, his shoulders relaxed. Coyle glanced over at the tree line where Ben huddled. Ben gasped and moved back, deeper into the shadows.

A few more words were exchanged, then Wayne walked away, moving off toward the hub of the party, away from the cabanas. Dr. Coyle stood in his towel, eyes scanning the darkness, hands on his hips. Ben held his breath, sinking further into the shadows. Finally, the professor turned and headed around the front of the cabana. Ben heard the door slam as he went back inside.

He saw me.
Ben lay back on the moist earth, staring up at the tree tops and glittering stars in the dark sky.
Crap
. His face had been practically pressed up against the window when Coyle looked up. There was eye contact. He prayed that the professor was drunk enough to forget. Drunk enough to believe it had been Wayne he’d seen.

His gut clenched with new panic as he realized he might run into his teacher again before he could leave the party. Standing, he brushed off his pants, then sprinted back along the rear of the cabanas, cutting through the side of the garden.

The party was still in full swing, and he began a desperate hunt for Dominick.

When he reached the pool, he was surprised to see Dom still frolicking in there, face flushed as he bobbed in the water, a man in his embrace. “Dom!” he called.

Dominick looked up, breaking into a grin. “Hey! Where’d you go? Ready to come for a swim?”

“I’ll meet you at the car.”

Dom eased away from his cohort and frowned up at Ben. “You want to leave?
Now
?”

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Ben repeated, then stealthily left the party, making his way back down to the road where they’d parked. He’d wait at the car all night if he had to. But he wouldn’t risk being seen by his professor.
He already saw you,
his mind insisted.

To his relief, Dominick showed up ten minutes later, car keys in hand. “You’re a piece of work, you know that, Benny? I was just starting to have a good time.”

Ben said nothing. As they drove home, he felt the waves of anger radiating off his roommate, but he simply stared out the window.

“I honestly don’t know what your problem is,” Dominick said as he drove. “You’re way too young to be so uptight. Would it kill you to do something risky for a change?” He did a double take at Ben, who sat silently in the passenger seat. “You’ve got dirt and grass in your hair. What the hell happened to you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Once they got home, Ben showered for a very long time. He was exhausted from the alcohol, unaccustomed to getting drunk, yet he lay awake for ages, staring at the ceiling, wondering how the hell he was going to walk into Coyle’s office Monday morning to hand in his test. Wondering how he was going to look him in the eye.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed that Dr. Peter Coyle was bending him over his office desk, jerking him off as he pressed the dome of his hard cock against Ben’s asshole.
“Please,”
Ben whimpered.
“I need more.”

Releasing Ben’s cock and gripping his hips, Dream Coyle fucked him so hard his hands grasped for purchase, but suddenly the desk was gone, and he was floating on the glassy surface of turquoise water that stretched without end in all directions. His body glided through the water as he was fucked from behind. As Ben grew close to orgasm, he tried to look back at Coyle, but a hand pressed his head down under the water. Yet Ben could still hear the teacher’s deep, commanding voice, ordering him not to come until he confessed his sins. But Ben couldn’t remember his sins, and contrary to Dr. Coyle’s orders, his climax erupted like a volcano.

When Ben awoke, the sheet beneath him was sticky and soaked through from his release.

Chapter Four

Someone was ringing the doorbell. Peter Coyle squinted at the sunlight—too bright for morning—and glanced at the clock. Almost noon. He never slept this late, yet he wasn’t surprised. Even after he was home from the party and tucked into his cozy bed last night, his mind had churned with a circus of troubling thoughts.

The doorbell buzzed again. “I’m coming!” he shouted, his voice hoarse. He tugged on a pair of pajama bottoms, then dug through a box for a tee shirt, pulling it over his head as he trotted down the stairs.

When he opened the door, Thorn stood on his porch holding a gift wrapped box. He looked fresh as a daisy in a yellow polo shirt, blue-black hair combed back from his face. He sneered as his eyes took in Peter’s appearance. “Christ in a tutu, Peter. You look like shit.” He shoved the box at him. “Here, a housewarming present. Now let me in so I can make coffee. I know
you
didn’t make any.”

Peter stepped aside and let Thorn in, shutting the door, then followed him into the kitchen. “Thanks,” he said, setting the gift on his table. “What is it?”

Thorn glanced over his shoulder as he dug through a box, pulling Peter’s coffee maker out. “Open it. We’re gonna need it.”

Peter unraveled the pretty bow and lifted the top off. He nodded, grinning at the contents: Four bags of Green Mountain Coffee, with a series of liquor nips. He picked up a miniature bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream. “You’re the best, Thorn. Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he said, grabbing one of the coffee bags. “And speaking of pleasure, did you have a good time last night? You looked like you were last I saw you, but I didn’t know you had
that
good a time. You never sleep this late, even on a Saturday.”

Sitting down, Peter rested his chin on his palms, watching Thorn prepare the coffee. “I just couldn’t sleep once I got home. Something...unusual happened last night. It’s got me a bit concerned.”

Thorn flipped on the coffee maker and turned around, eyebrows lowering as he regarded Peter. “You need to go to the clinic? Hope it’s nothing a shot of penicillin can’t cure.”

“It’s not that,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I think I need a session with a shrink, not a penicillin shot.”

Thorn joined him at the table. “What the hell are you talking about?”