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Subject: Rubdown by Mr. W. When I was 13, I had an accident in which I shattered my elbow. I was extremely fortunate that the surgery they did inserting plates and screws was a fantastic job. After months in a cast and more months of therapy, I had about 85% mobility in my arm. People usually could not tell anything was out of the ordinary unless I told them or they saw the scars. However, this left me somewhat limited in the activities I could join in on. No baseball, football, hockey, wrestling or gymnastics … or running. The running due to messed up knees from trying to jog and doing it very badly. When I entered high school, I immediately got on the bad side of the Phys Ed Department. At 14 I was almost 6′ tall and weighed in at almost 300 pounds. And not fat. I had taken up weightlifting at a neighbor’s house when I was 12. Here I was at 14 with a 58″ chest and a 36″ waist, big arms, big thighs and a butt I thought looked pretty good. My thighs were almost as big as some of my friends waists. The head of the Phys Ed, who was also the football coach, wanted me for the football team. Due to my shattered elbow, the doctors forbade me to take part in any sports that might reinjure my arm. The coach was not amused and tried to get me to change my mind every time he saw me. Finally I told him one day that I would play football for him under one condition. He asked what the condition was and I told him that if I damaged my arm and all the pins and plates that hold it together that he would come up with the $10,000 (this was the mid-60’s) to fix it again. Thankfully that was the end of it. So, throughout Grade 9, while the guys in my class were at gym I was given a spare. Actually that’s the way it was all the way through high school. When I was 15, the neighbor whose weights I had been using moved away. Since it was just about the only activity the doctors let me do, and believe me it took some convincing, I was desperate to find someplace else I could do my routines. The high school had a weight room that was hardly used by the students. There was no program in place at the time for the students, and the students that used the room did so after school, outside of regular classes. After gaining permission to use the room, I discovered there were two other students, both in their last year, were the only other people to use it. I had known who these two guys were since I was a kid, small town remember, but we did not become too much better acquainted during the next few months. They were best buddies and had been use to having the room to themselves for the years previous so I guess in a way they may have resented my intrusion. So we each did our own thing. I usually arrived after they had already started their routines and would leave about half an hour after they had had their showers and left. That left me alone to change and shower, and I could take my sweet time because I had learned the janitor did not do that area until about 7 or 8 at night. That suited me fine anyway. I was embarrassed because of “my look”. I had gotten very hairy very early in puberty. I had hair all over my body and in the summers had become the focus of quite a few hurtful comments and jokes. You know how kids could be. I was also embarrassed because I had what I thought was a really small dick. While everyone else’s would hang down 4 or 5 inches over a nice hanging sack when soft, mine looked like it was always retreating inside. I guess that if I am lucky the thing is about 2″ soft and barely 6″ hard. I am also blessed with small balls and kızkalesi escort bag to boot. The package would look strange enough on a little guy, but I was a pretty big guy and my dick and balls, to my eye, looked ridiculous. So, with no one around I could take my time, not have to worry about covering up and just enjoy being a normal guy while I changed or had a shower. It was in about May of that year that this incident happened. The other two guys had showered and left. I had arrived late that day so when I was ready to do the bench presses there wasn’t anyone around to spot for me. The other two guys were kind enough to offer to do that for me when they were there. They had never needed to help me, but it was good to know someone was there, just in case. So on this day, I decided I could handle it without a spotter. Part way through my repetitions, the barbell suddenly shifted to the side. It started pulling me off the bench, so in order to keep it from coming down on me I heaved it as far as I could away from me. I got a searing pain across my back and the barbell’s landing on the concrete floor seemed to reverberate, clang and echo through the entire school. I lay there on the bench in agony. My back felt like it was on fire. As I struggled to sit up, Mr. W., one of the Phys Ed teachers came running into the room. He saw the barbell and seemed to know instantly what happened and helped me to a sitting position. Mr. W. had always treated me better than his co-workers. He seemed to understand better the reasons why I could not participate in the regular classes and sports. I had seen him over the year in various stages of undress as I passed through the main locker room to the weight room and its own locker room and showers beyond. He was married but I didn’t know if he had kids. He seemed young compared to the other teachers, maybe in his late 20’s or early 30’s. He was about 5’9″ and a very well put together 170 pounds. Very good looking, not devastatingly handsome, in fact not even classic good looks but not hard on the eyes at all. I had seen him totally nude a couple months previous and took a moment to admire his well-developed legs and chest. He also had a bubble butt the kind I have grown now to immediately lust over. He had quite a lot of hair on his legs and his chest hair hid his nipples then tapered into a line that disappeared into his shorts. The day I saw him nude I noticed first that the hair on his legs crept up to cover his butt and when he turned around, the picture was complete. Nice size dick set on top of a very full looking set of balls. Not wanting to be too obvious I had continued on to the weights area. After I got sitting upright, he told me he had been in the gym and heard the weights fall, he said it sounded like the whole weight room had caved in. He asked if I was okay. I tried to twist a bit and gasped at the pain. I told him that I would be okay but that I must have pulled a muscle or something. Mr. W. sat on the bench behind me and lifted my t-shirt. He felt the muscles and rubbed them a bit. He said the muscles were spasming and that was probably why I could hardly move. He suggested we go into his office and he could give me a rubdown, which should relax the muscles enough that they would stop the spasms. He helped me get into his office and sit up onto the trainer’s table that was there. That’s what they called it anyway. It looked like an old version of what my doctor had in his examination room. He helped me take off my t-shirt and tarsus escort told me to lie on my stomach as he went to get what he needed. Out of habit I kicked off my shoes and tried to lie down. I couldn’t do it, so I lay down on my back and rolled onto my stomach. My gym shorts got all twisted up and became very uncomfortable. As Mr. W. came back in the office from getting some towels and a bottle of what I guessed was oil, he caught me trying to untwist the shorts again. He saw my predicament and told me to wait a second and he’d give me a hand. After he set the things down, he came over and told me to lift. As I did he slid the shorts down and off my feet telling me we may as well have them off so we wouldn’t get oil on them. He pulled the shorts off from around my feet, dropped the shorts on the floor and grabbed my socks, pulled them off at the same time and threw them out the door into the locker room. He apologized but told me if he had left the socks the odors would have stripped the paint off the walls. Socks, runners and sweat are not a good combination, as we all know. So there I was, naked except for a jock and about to be given a rubdown by a hunky teacher who had provided me with some jack off fantasies. But I could have cared less. All I wanted was the pain in my back to ease. He grabbed the oil and squirted what I thought was quite a bit on my hairy back. He spread it around, put some more oil on and said I had so much hair on my back that it was soaking up all the oil, then he kind of chuckled. I apologized for the hair and I guess he could tell by my tone that I was embarrassed by it. As he rubbed the oil in and started to massage my shoulders and neck he asked me what was wrong. I told him I was embarrassed because of all the hair on my body. He told me not to get so uptight about it, that it suited me. He said hair on a man’s body was a sign of masculinity and virility and that I just may have too much testosterone. I halfway chuckled at that and told him if I had too much testosterone that my dick would have grown a lot bigger. I don’t know what came over me to have said that to him. I buried my head under my arms and mumbled that I was sorry. He kind of chuckled and continued massaging my back muscles. Slowly I got over my embarrassment as he concentrated on giving me a great rubdown. After about half an hour of rubbing my back, my gasps of pain were slowly replaced by an occasional moan of gratitude. The massage was having the desired effect and the muscles were loosening up. Now I began to appreciate the sensual nature of this kind of contact. As the massage continued I could feel my dick start to get hard. Mr. W. was now working just above the waistband of my jock. With each stroke my dick was becoming harder and was thankful it was my back giving the problem so I wouldn’t have to turn over. Mr. W. picked up the oil and I just about jumped off the table when I felt the oil spray across my butt and down both legs. He said he might as well give me a full rubdown. As he began to rub my ass, what felt like a river of oil spread down my crack, over my asshole and across the jock pouch to the table. He told me to lift and when I did the jock joined my shorts on the floor. As he started massaging my butt again, he said that’s better. Then I heard him say almost to himself that he got some there and I felt his fingers run down my crack following the trail the oil had made earlier. I gasped when his fingers ran across my asshole and gasped again as he rubbed some of anamur escort the oil into my balls. He pulled his fingers back the same route, but this time lingered a bit, massaging around my butthole. Every time his fingers caressed my tight pucker I would let out another gasp and moaned when his finger gently pushed for entry. I was at full hard by this time. My dick was between my stomach and the table. At this point I was afraid that if he continued that I would shoot off. Neither of us said a word as he moved his ministrations to my thigh. He worked each of my legs in turn, first relaxing the muscles and then using long strokes to rub from my ankle to my crotch. Each time his fingers caressed my balls, I would gasp and moan with increasing excitement. Then he started running both hands at the same time from each ankle, up the inside of my legs, then as one hand cupped and massaged my balls, the other would slip a finger into my ever hotter asshole. He did this for what seemed a long time, dallying longer on each return trip, stroking deeper, adding more fingers and each time I started raising my butt higher, wanting more, needing more. I knew I wanted his cock instead of his fingers up my butt. (Norm, a same-aged friend and I had been fuck buddies for a couple years by this time. This teacher’s cock would be far from the first to have sheathed itself in my tight asshole.) But I was still the shy embarrassed 15 year old, I couldn’t tell him what I wanted. I just lay there writhing, gasping and moaning, willing to take anything he wanted to give. I was suddenly aware that he was kneeling on the table behind me. I looked back and as he was fucking 3 fingers in and out of my asshole, he pulled his t-shirt up over his head and off. Then he pushed his shorts and jock down to his knees, withdrew his fingers and plunged his hard cock into my waiting hole. He had prepared my pucker well, so his 7 fat inches filled me without any pain. Instantly he started fucking me like a man possessed. Thrusting his cock all the way in then pulling almost all the way out, relentlessly battering my hot ass. I moved to meet each thrust and each thrust brought me closer to orgasm. As he fucked, he reached around and grabbed my hard cock and started stroking it in time to his own thrusts. Faster and faster, our moans and grunts getting louder as we each got closer to cumming. Then, as I started to shoot, I clamped my asshole down on his pistoning dick and his groan echoed in the room. We came together, my cum spurting onto my stomach and the table as my dick spewed its contents, his cock shooting his seed far up my hot ass, cooling the flames his hands had stoked. As he held himself buried deep in my butt, I could feel his hard cock pulsing and twitching inside me. The soreness in my back gone, but I also knew I would have trouble sitting for a day or two. But I didn’t care. I felt good … real good. Mr. W. collapsed on top of me on the table. We were a mass of sweat, oil and cum. I felt his dick soften, and as it slipped from my battered hole he asked me if I felt better now. My satisfied smile answered his question. We both heard a deep voice coming from the office asking us what we thought we were doing. We both turned in shock to see the janitor and the principal (who was my cousin) standing in the doorway. We both hurriedly dressed as the principal asked how all of us were going to handle the situation. The end result, Mr. W. never came back to the school. I heard a couple years later that he was teaching at another school about a six-hour drive from my hometown. As for me, nothing was mentioned to my parents. Not a hint of scandal was ever leaked. Mr. W’s. sudden disappearance was explained as an urgent family matter. In fact, as far as I know, this is the first retelling of the experience. I didn’t even mention it to Norm.

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