Play with my pink Trombone

Note : This story is completely fictional!

I was young -- just barely legal in terms of the sex age.

We were all in class, listening as the English teacher was lecturing us on writing resumes. As an English teacher, he never seemed to intriguing. In music class on the other hand, he was anything but boring.

I had never noticed it before, but Mr. Stone (his name) had quite a large bump in his pants. He was slim, very tall and had curly brown hair. In his early thirties, he was definitely one heck of a man. As I watched him talk, his would lick his lips and smile occasionally. It was not a wonder that I would be aroused, with the task of hiding my boner in most of his classes.

English was never my forte, and he often had one on one talks with me in order to help me. Today was no different. I just nodded and watched his handsome face as he told me how to format my resume properly. I was nodding away so often that he obviously noticed I wasn’t paying attention – yet he continued.

It was days after that when I was in music class that, one could say, he found out about my crush. I was playing trumpet, and was having difficulty hitting certain notes. Mr. Stone took me to the side and asked why I was having difficulty. After a brief discussion, he told me to meet him in the music office after school hours.

The school bell rang, and I put my books and utensils in my locker before visiting him in his office.

“You walking home tonight?” My friend asked.

I lied and said that I would be going to the grocery store, knowing that I would be ridiculed for going to the English / music teacher’s office. He wasn’t the best recognized figure on school grounds.

I knocked on the door as he invited me in, and sat down in front of him, waiting as he finished up correcting a few test papers.

“Close the door, please.” He asked.

I couldn’t help it. The fact that I was sitting in a small room alone with this man brought on my boner, and I frantically pushed it to the side so he wouldn’t notice it.

“You seem to be having trouble in both English and music. When I talk to you, you seem to zone out and ignore what I’m saying. Is there something wrong?” He had finished his work and was sitting crossed legged.

“No, I’m fine.” I replied. I wasn’t one with many words at the time. It was so difficult to talk to him. My heart was pumping and my dick was throbbing.

He nodded interestingly, and we sat for a moment in an awkward silence. To my horror, my hard on had slipped from where I had tucked it, and it was now protruding in my pants in plain sight.

It was quite obvious that he saw it. I must have blushed, because he smiled and laughed a little, but made it seem like he was just thinking of something else.

“Would you like me to teach you how to play your trumpet properly?”
I nodded, and watched as he pulled out his own instrument, a trombone.

“It’s essentially the same thing. The mouthpiece for my trombone is just slightly bigger. You need to learn how to properly blow into it.” He formed his lips in order to show how it was done. He put the mouthpiece to his wet lips and blew, making a strange noise.

“Hold onto this for me while I try to find another trumpet mouthpiece.” He handed his mouthpiece to me and stood up.

My juvenile instincts kicked in, and as soon as he was behind me I licked the mouthpiece. The taste of his spit was metallic, due to what it was on. It was still one of the hottest moments of my life at that point.

Now that I think back at it, there was no reason for him to hand me the mouthpiece to hold. It also seemed like he licked his lips with an extra amount of saliva before blowing into it. It must have been some sort of a test. He must have been secretly watching as I enjoyed tasting his spit.

Sitting down with the trumpet mouthpiece, we switched the two and he smiled as he put it to his mouth and blew again.

“No do what I did with that one. It’s a little harder, because the hole is smaller but just try.”

I tried, again and again. It never seemed to work. After what seemed like forever, I finally managed to blow out properly, and he congratulated me for it.

“Good, now just do that when playing with your trumpet and you’ll sound a lot better.”

I thanked him and stood up to leave, turning around so my boner would no longer be in his sight.

“Wait, I never said we were done.” He said. I skilfully tucked my boner in one more time and sat back down as he stared at me. I could not have expected what came next.

“Did you lick my mouthpiece?” He asked.

I couldn’t respond. It was just too unexpected. I remained still and petrified. His eyes were looking at me and I started tearing.

“Oh hey! I didn’t mean to do anything, it’s alright I’m just asking because I thought I saw something.”

I shook my head and just looked down at the floor and waited for him to talk again, knowing that I wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t talk for a good 5 minutes. I had no idea what was happening in this small little office room, until I looked up.

The bump in his pants, which is usually big, now turned into an even bigger, longer bump. He sat with his legs open, just looking at me with a blank expression. On impulse, I wiped my eyes and just stared between his legs.

“I understand.” He said, as he stood up. The room didn’t have a window and no one could look inside. He motioned me to stand up and held his arms out to give me a hug.

How could I refuse? I went to him and pressed my face into his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. His body was warm, and I could feel his heart pumping abnormally fast. We stayed in this position for a very long time, and I pressed my body more tightly into his until I could feel his dick touching me.

He instantly let go me and backed off. Of course, his job is in jeopardy and he wants me to leave. So I turned around and touched the doorknob as he once again put his hand on my shoulder, pulling me around. I looked into his eyes, as he looked back into mine.

“So you want to taste my spit?” He asked, smiling.

I nodded slowly. Inside, I prayed for the exact thing that happened after.

He licked his lips, still smiling as he bent down to reach my face. I had never kissed anyone before, and was a little slow in responding. As his lips touched my own, I just waited for something to happen. His lips parted a little, and I could feel his tongue pressing between my lips to enter my mouth. The sensation was amazing. I opened my mouth to let him feel my tongue wrapping around his. I wrapped my arms around his back and pushed my tongue into his mouth. I really wanted to feel the warmth.

Kissing for a long while, he finally let go of me and smiled, pulling me into his arms for a second tight hug. When I pushed away, I finally spoke.

“Mr. Stone. I – I really know you can’t be doing this right now. I’m sorry.”

He looked at me – it was he who remained silent this time.

“Mr. Stone, I am really sorry. I think I love you.”

Of course, he knew that I was way too young to know what love could even mean.

“I don’t think you know what love is yet. You need to grow up first.” He said quietly.

I told him that, I really cared for him and wanted to learn more about him.

“If you want, why don’t we meet every Wednesday after school.” His face was blushing. He was nervous, knowing that offering something like that would be a huge risk.

I jumped at the chance and accepted, telling him that I understood that keeping it a secret was of top priority. He smiled. Before leaving, I went up to him and pecked him on the lips before shutting the door.

Weeks passed, and he “taught” me for a couple hours each session. Don’t take it too seriously, I did actually learn about my trumped and really did improve when playing. I also learned that he would taste quite bitter after a drink of coffee.

After about a month, I was once again in his office ready to learn.

“Why don’t we drive back to my place, it’s not too far from here. My trombone is there.”

After talking me into it, I agreed and we developed a plan. I was to walk a few blocks away from the school where he would come to pick me up with his car. I obviously couldn’t just go to the staff parking lot and drive off with him.

He drove with one arm and held my left hand between the seats. He finally understood, that even at such a young age, I was able to grasp many of the feelings of love.

We reached his apartment building and went up a few flights of stairs to potentially avoid his neighbours in the elevator.

Opening the door to his bachelor pad, he let me in and I wandered around his clean home – touching the walls, paintings and plants.

He went into a different room as I sat on the couch and waited. Coming back with his trombone case, he took out his instrument and began playing for me. I knew that tonight was not going to be a academic learning session.

It was actually quite romantic. He played music as I watched him nonchalantly showed off his skills. After a few songs, he put his instruments away and acted like any host would – offering drinks, food and entertainment. We watched something on the discovery channel about whales, and I cuddled close to him as he wrapped his arm around me.

We had decided that I would continue calling him Mr. Stone, instead of using his first name. I didn’t understand why, but I now realise it probably fulfilled some sort of sexual fantasy for him to be called in such an authoritative way.

I put my hand to his face, and felt his rough skin that he hadn’t shaved for a day or two. I separated my index finger for the rest, and touched his lips slowly before pushing into his mouth. I felt his teeth, while he clenched his jaw before slowly biting onto my finger, letting me in. I was facing the TV, but didn’t pay any attention to what was showing.

He sucked my finger for a while, before sticking his own into my mouth. We sat on the couch doing so before he lay down on his couch with me on top of him. I took my finger out, and began kissing him.

We had never done anything like this before – it was always in his office and it would always be on his chair or just simply standing up. Of course, he did respect my age and never instigated anything other than kissing.

It was amazing, laying on top of him. I could feel his boner pressing into my own. I began to move back and forth, rubbing and making a lot of heat. He was surprised, but didn’t stop kissing me. Making out with him was fun, but I wanted to try something more.

I had always masturbated to him and he had admitted the same before. I wanted to feel him in my hands, so I reached down and grabbed his huge cock. He then pulled away from me.

“What are you doing?” He asked, sitting up.

I told him that it was what I always wanted to do.

“...You are too young for this. Kissing me is fine enough, I don’t think we should be doing anything more.” He was so reluctant. I begged and begged, and he finally agreed to at least take his shirt and pants off.

He was sitting upright on his couch, shirtless and pantless (as was I). In our underwear, I sat on his lap, trying to sit as close as I could to his cock sticking out in his briefs. We made out some more, but I was still really unsatisfied.

I pulled away, and told him that my boner was getting softer. He was frantic. As much as he was afraid to do anything sexual with me, it seemed that he was even more afraid that I would lose interest in him.

“You really want to play with my pink trombone?” He asked.

I didn’t even respond. I went up to him and pulled his 7 inch cock out of his briefs, and rubbed it. His mouth was gaping and he moaned as I squeezed tighter. I was kneeling on the floor and his legs were spread, and I was staring at his cock as it throbbed in my hand.

At that age, I didn’t know what blowjobs were. I just knew that men had sex with women through vaginal intercourse. I knew that people kissed, and of course knew about masturbation. I had no idea people sucked on dicks.

Regardless, I kept staring at it as I rubbed it harder and faster. Without knowing why, my face would start getting close to it, and before I knew it, I was licking the head of his cock. He did not object to this. I didn’t know why, but it tasted very salty. I licked and licked, until finally I felt his hands on my head.

He was pushing my down, and I finally understood. I opened my mouth, and took half of his cock in my mouth. Sucking hard, I never heard any teacher moan so loud before. After a while, his hands were on my head pushing down again. He was trying to make me take the whole length of his cock in my mouth. It was just too much for me, and I took it out.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.” He explained that he was caught in the moment and wasn’t thinking.

I put it in my mouth again, and sucked more. To his surprise, I tried to please him more by trying to shove it all the way in. After a few times, I managed to do so.

“Fuck. You don’t even gag.” He said loudly, and a little aggressively.

His hands were back on my head and pushing up and down as I sucked hard. After what must have been a minute, my jaw and mouth were tired and I had to tell him I couldn’t do it for much longer. He thanked me. I had never heard him swear before, not to mention multiple times.

He told me to masturbate him. My hands were on his now wet cock again, and I squeezed tight and rubbed even faster than I had before. It didn’t take too long before he came on his stomach.

He was breathing quite heavily, when he took his hand and tasted some of his cum. I didn’t know that the stuff was even edible. I watched as he licked his fingers, and told me that it was safe.

So I put my face to his stomach, and licked. It was salty – I then understood why his cock was salty in the first place. I licked, and ate all of his cum. It was deliciously arousing, and all I could want was more. But he was finished.

I stood up and we laid on the couch for the rest of the “session” as he kept on thanking me for everything. I loved him, and he told me he really loved me.

When we pulled apart, my stomach was sticking to his, and we laughed.

“Would you like me to do that for you?” He asked. I told him that it was ok, that I would want to go home and jerk off about this later tonight. I still didn’t quite understand the blow job ordeal.

He took a towel and wiped himself dry, and put our clothes back on. A few more kisses and we were downstairs in his car, as he drove me to a park near my home.