I did not sign up for this. My “tutor” is not to my liking. He has me on my knees with my face crunched up to his King Kong dong and I am not thinking about math. Funny thing is, I’m thinking about a hundred things and nothing at all at the same time. Mister-Man has me by my blonde spike and I am helpless.

“Work that tongue, slave”.

Is he kidding? My head is spinning and my guts are grinding as I open my mouth and lick at the miles of leather pouch.

“That’s right, slave, get it good and wet”. Well, okay, anything to get through college algebra.

Another funny thing; I am totally getting a boner. I am telling you this in strictest confidence, so I expect you to totally honor my privacy. My friend and roommate, Hal, is a big-time lawyer, or will be soon, so you are on alert. I am not shitting you. This is serious legal stuff or something.

Anywho, I’m licking this leather dude’s package and I’m thinking he must have a bolster in there or something. Don’t laugh. I know what a bolster is. My mom ordered one from her decorator friend and she was totally like, “Don’t spill your ice-cream on my new bolster.” It’s like this sausage shaped pillow or something. Anyway, I’m licking this tutor dude’s bolster through this black leather jock strap when all ‘casual like’ he starts moaning real deep and all.

“That’s right, slave…get it ready.” Ready for what, I’m thinking?
I’m always thinking.

Just then, Tutor-Man takes his beefy hand from my head and reaches toward the leather-bound bolster. He rips the snaps off the pouch and the straining piece of hide falls between his continent-size thighs. Crap! That is no bolster! That is some kind of major meat! Holy freight train, Batman! Anyways, Math-Master points this log at me and says, “Open wide, bitch.”

Let me just say here and now, I’m thinking, “There is totally no way I am going to be able to chunk this monster dick down my throat. No way, No how. Not for all the ‘A’s’ in the universe. This dude is trippin’ if he thinks I can swallow that stiff timber. That is totally not going to happen”.

Well, I was wrong. I admit that. Plus, I had no choice. Hal (my lawyer friend) will back me up. The fact is, my “tutor” stuck his hairy fingers in my mouth and totally forced my lips open.

“You got some nice dimples on you, boy; let’s see how your mouth works.”

I just remember opening my mouth and seeing that donkey-dong head pointed right at me before the entire length of that monster slammed its way to my tonsils….and beyond. My “tutor” grabbed the back of my neck and forced my mouth down onto the slab of board that made me gag and squirm on the floor. I could totally feel his pubes scratch my chin as he bucked and rocked that fucking lumber past my gullet. He held my head in place as me pushed that cannon back and forth in my throat. Each time he plowed in, I could feel the spit in my throat work its way around that pecker and coat the swinging balls that slapped my chin. On and on he went, forcing me to lap and suck at his pounding dong. I totally didn’t