Nothing but Love Chapter 9
#10 of Nothing but Love
Struggling with his desires, will Butch avoid sex with his Math teacher, or give in to his baser desires?
_I have always wanted to return to this series. Writing anymore feels awkward and foreign, unlike when I did so in my youth. It felt good to put this next part to paper. I've written and rewritten it dozens upon dozens of times across the last few years. It is exceedingly personal to me, as it draws partially off my own life experiences. I hope I did it justice in its presentation. Please know that it was incredibly difficult for me to write this. Partially because when I began this series, I was Butch's age, and now in completing it, I am much closer in age to Richard. I do not view it in the same light as I did back then. Partially because some of theme's and feelings from Butch are incredibly personal to me and processing my own trauma. As such, check the trigger warnings and please make decisions based off your own needs when reading it. I imagine there will likely only be 1 or 2 more chapters total in this series before I close this chapter of my life. Hopefully, by finishing this, I will finally be able to move on to other writing projects I've never been able to bring myself to, because this one wasn't finished. _
_Either way. Enjoy. Don't forget to Rate and Comment! I really appreciate the feedback. _
Butch hopped out of bed, the blanket gripping to his thigh before falling off his naked body. His pride and shame stood painfully engorged still in the crisp morning air, it was chilly in the room. It pulsed for something warm to touch him again, still remembering the soft hand that had gripped it moments ago and left him needing. A glance to the dresser he could see the lube left on the nightstand, apparently pulled from the bottom drawer, now left somewhat open. Inside he could see another larger bottle of a different brand and some towels. He pulled one of the towels out and kicked the flat surface closed in frustration.
Butch pulled some jeans, a button up and tank from the drawer he claimed previously. He stalled when selecting under garments, ultimately deciding to re-wear his last pair. Mr. Fenton had left the door wide open when he left and he could see into the living space, and across to the teacher's room. He'd left that door open as well, and already a faint trail of steam drifted out from a presumably hot shower... An enticingly hot and inviting shower with an equally hot stud of a bull, waiting to fill him up with his virile seed. Butch buckled forward as his cock throbbed, dribbling out a small glob of pre - possibly post cum. All he could say for sure was he needed. Yearning was a damned feeling.
The young man darted around the corner of the hall into the guest bathroom. Fuck that, he had already given in to temptation once. That satisfied it. He'd had sexual contact with his Teacher, that should be enough to satisfy the plans he had laid out with Coach before everything fell to shit. His ears pulled back and he grimaced as he shut the bathroom door. "Far from true. Coward. You were gonna get stuffed with so much of that bull dick, he'd be able to drink his nut from you like a fountain... That's what you had agreed to with --."
Butch swallowed hard. Promises and agreements meant nothing if you weren't talking with someone... Or did they? Where do you draw the line for follow through? Did he want to have sex with Mr. Fenton for Richard's sake? Or for his own gratification? Was there a morally right answer? did morals matter in this situation? Or should he be more selfish with himself right now. What would the selfish choice even be... He clutched at the porcelain sink edge and scrunched his eyes closed in uncertainty. He wished more than anything there was someone he could ask these things to. Coach would have given him a straight answer, but the knot in his stomach still couldn't tell what bothered him so much about the situation.
Butch turned on his heel, making his way to the tub. A shower would help him clear his bothered thoughts; maybe quell the tension in his loins that still plagued him making all of this even more awkward. Nothing quite like the moral compass of a boner. Just happy to be at the table at all apparently, regardless of the self loathing filling the space like so much steam. The more he thought about it, the more unsure he was. Not knowing what was right. What was fair. Whether it even needed to be fair or balanced. What was the give and take of a one sided feeling? Was it even one sided. Butch HAD feelings for Coach, he always looked forward to seeing him. Their sessions made him happy and fulfilled, and through out Coach never treated him poorly and always made sure he felt safe. Was that all that Love was?
More than anything... What if he returned those feelings. What would that even mean? Does that mean they are dating? Dating was way more than Butch had really considered. He'd never had a boyfriend before, let alone one that was his teacher. He knew he was already engaging in something taboo, what with the authority figure and the age difference. He was of age, but not everyone might see it that way. Even still did he really want to date ...Richard? He was handsome. He obviously cared for him, but he knew practically next to nothing about him other than what he liked in the sack. These were things that they had never talked about before.
Butch hadn't noticed but his shower had long since worn out its welcome, the water turning cold against his fur. It wasn't until a knock at the door came that he shook himself out of his stupor. He turned the water off with a hiss, his hand trembling. It wasn't uncommon for him to zone out in the shower, he did his best thinking there; but it was embarrassing to have done it as a guest in someone else's house. Hopefully Mr. Fenton would not be sour at him for over using the water. Speaking of, "All good in there?"
"Yes sir, just finishing up. Sorry!" a hasty toweling off session and gathering his clothes about his body later, he stepped from the tiled room where breath could be seen into the warmer exterior. A fire was going in the hearth, and some sports news anchor was prattling on about scores and missed opportunities, some professional player scandal or something. It held no interest to Butch as he slid into the room, taking a seat near the flickering fireside. The morning passed without consequence, and whats more, no mention of that mornings encounter was spoken. By the evening Butch had practically forgotten it, as they dug into various school work and math rhetoric. The simple arithmetic was a welcome distraction, and its entirely non sexual tone leveled his mood. Mr. Fenton was particularly pleased at the sudden performance improvement as Butch displayed no issue in understanding.
Dinner came in the form of some baked chicken and rice and conversation came and went with little of interest. Butch cleaned up after and Mr. Fenton retired early for the night. The day passed so innocently Butch almost thought he had dreamed up the hand job that morning. There were a few dropped innuendos, but they seemed so innocuous he was still caught off guard by them. His host was entirely unreadable; there was no telling if he meant anything of them or if he was just daft to the double meanings. Still they flummoxed the youth, who would blush and try to focus through them. Nothing else happened that day. He couldn't understand what the bull's game was, whether he was on to him or if maybe that was just a spur of the moment thing that they'd never speak of again. He still hadn't decided what he wanted out of the week, whether to seduce the bull like he had originally planned... Or let the opportunity pass him by. The dilemma pursued his mind that evening as he considered.
With Mr. Fenton having already gone to bed, the door to his room closed and silent, Butch stood at the kitchen with a glass in hand. He always got thirsty before bed. The chill was pushing back into the house, the fire now extinguished. He'd only bothered to wear shorts for his late night excursion. He kept thinking back to their dinner settings. The place mats were still on the table, two candle sconces sat empty on either side of a bowl of fruit at center. He couldn't shake the imposing intimacy of eating together by candlelight. A suspicion crept at the corners of his mind and he reached over to the switch... he hesitated. It was a silly notion that his teacher would lie about something as simple as light bulbs. What did he stand to gain? Weird and awkward romantic candle lit dinners? With him? Hardly worth it. Still... he flicked the switch, light blossoming from the chandelier over head -- he flicked it again immediately. He had no desire to announce his presence. But that confirmed it. His teacher had lied.
Butch scurried back to his guest bedroom, glass in hand. He couldn't think what the purpose would be. Did his teacher want to embarrass him? If so, he was succeeding - scarlet already spread across his cheeks. He knocked the glass against the wood of the dresser, firmer than intended as it splashed across the surface. He couldn't be bothered to clean it tonight. He had been lied to, and for what? Why would he? It made Butch angry and he wasn't sure why. It was such a pointless thing to lie about. An inconvenience even. If he had lied about something as stupid as an overhead light, what else might he have lied about and to what end? _Richard would NEVER have -- _ he faltered.
No. He wouldn't have. Richard had always been very upfront with Butch. From their first time together, he'd laid out his rules and expectations from the get go. One - obviously, no one could know. Just to avoid speculation and the potential for trouble. Butch had wanted it badly in the moment, and snitching was the furthest thing in his mind. Still was... Two - "No" reigns supreme. He would never force Butch to do something he was not comfortable with and he had full power to end things. Three - communication was key. Always talk about things. If he had questions, he could always feel safe to ask openly. It was what turned Butch on about him and kept him coming back. He felt... safe. He got to explore his curiosities without judgement. Broaden his horizons without risk.
He had no such agreements or ground rules with Mr. Fenton. A true wild card. Suddenly Butch felt like a mouse in a cage with a cat. A pawn in a game that had not been explained, the rules known only to others. What were the expectations? Did Mr. Fenton have motives in this? Intentions? Would... he respect him if he said No like Richard would? A shiver of uncertainty ran down his spine as the weight of his decisions bore down on him. He had put himself here, with no safety net, in a situation that very well could have turned poorly.
What if he had made the first move with Mr. Fenton and he had taken it poorly? He had been so certain the teacher shared his interest but truly there was no telling until this morning. Even that was open to interpretation. He hadn't spoken at all. He barely even nodded. Fear racked at him as he pulled his knees up against him on the bed. He tried to rationalize, told himself he was blowing things out of proportion. But... was he? He had no way of knowing and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out... He had left himself no means of an out. He hadn't even driven himself, his car still in the school parking lot.
He resolved to not find out. Sleep took his worried mind away eventually.
Light filtered in from the shaded window across the bed. Morning chill brushed against his chest, and he groaned awake. The blanket was warm and heavy, and he wished to pull it up against him tightly and roll over for a few moments more sleep. A tingle across his skin seconded the notion as he stretched his legs blissfully, the weighted blanket shifting with his motion, warmth encompassing his morning wood. It felt nice in contrast to the cold air against him. As Butch reached down to grab at the hem, his paw met a hard bulky presence instead of the soft blanket that he expected, and the warmth around his dick suckled unexpectedly. His eyes shot open this time as he prickled, looking down at the form of Mr. Fenton laying across his legs, his face buried to the hilt around his manhood. He pushed instinctively on the shoulder, and the bull opened his eyes and looked up at the youth from his crotch. He stopped sucking and gave a long lurid lick up the length as he detached. "Morning stud. Couldn't help myself this time. Needed a sweet treat and your pole was just twitching there for me. Couldn't think of a better way to wake you up."
Without waiting for a reply, he winked and dove back down on the cock. Despite the protest waiting to come out, Butch moaned loudly and his hips thrust forward into the hot muzzle unbidden. He was caught, in between the pleasure of his groin and the desire to escape... Instincts wrestled with feelings as a knot of worry tightened in his gut. His teacher worked his shaft with expertise, bobbing his head. The sensation felt amazing, and one of the teacher's hands wormed through his fur up his abdomen to tweak at a nipple. Butch couldn't contain the small yip he let out at the pinch, and again he bucked his hips. Regardless what he wanted, he couldn't argue this felt amazing, and he was pinned thoroughly enough he wasn't going anyway.
The canine's hand curled into the short rough fur of the shoulder, and his body craved after the contact. He was already getting close, and he closed his eyes as he squirmed under the bull's administration. His other hand pushed his hair back from his eyes, as the sensations threatened to overwhelm him. His stomach rose dramatically with each breath as he pushed his need up to the bovine's welcome maw, wishing to bury his staff deeper. But just as soon as his climax neared, the bovine let out a deep throaty chuckle and released his sucking. The boy whimpered at his denial and desire.
Mr. Fenton pushed off the bed and rose up on his knees, inching closer up. Not knowing exactly what his host intended, but torn between it ending and it progressing, Butch's ears pinned backwards and he shimmied backward in the sudden freedom from the heavy body until his back hit the headboard. "You taste great, but you aren't the only one with needs here." The older stud deftly caught the hem of his tank top and removed it in one swift movement, pushing his body up against his pupil's. Instinctively Butch placed a hand against his chest, feeling the taught musculature beneath. His teacher was every bit as attractive as he predicted out of his clothes, and that was just his upper body. Fingers traced down the thick washboard just out of curiosity, and his cock jumped in arousal. They stopped just as they caught the edge of a waistband, and his eyes followed suit. Lust leaped from his chest at the sight: straining against the fabric of a bright white jock, one of the same he had seen in the top drawer, engorge bull meat rhythmically pushed against its confines. It wanted out. It wanted attention. It wanted to claim him right here and now in this bed. Twin thoughts evoked. Desire. And Fear. It was bigger than anything Butch had had before.
Before he had time to think it through further, his teacher was on him. One arm poised beneath his middle back, lifting him up against the hot body, his head swung down to meet Butch's own as he met him in a kiss. It shocked Butch, affection was still somewhat of a foreign part of intimacy to him. Strange how in all his fucking making out hadn't been much a part of him. It was rather normal in any depictions he had seen in movies or online. Mr. Fenton was an aggressive kisser. He did not wait for Butch to reciprocate, his tongue invading the younger man's mouth like a prospector staking a claim. There was... something hollow about it, and despite being very turned on still, Butch felt somehow absent in the action. Another paw met his and pushed it to breach the band of the jock, pushing it down. He could feel the behemoth he was releasing, but with the bull's forceful kissing blocking his view, he could not make out any more of it. It wasn't until he felt the swollen bat leap up and smack his ass that he knew the predicament he was in.
There was no way he could feasibly take that monster in this moment, and fear crept back in. Would Mr. Fenton realize? Would he care? Butch was no push over, but if it came to a wrestling match, the bull had the advantage. His ass puckered at the thought, carnal desire said yes, but common sense said it would end poorly. Even Coach would have worked him up to something that big. A challenge he would gladly rise to the occasion for... if he knew his partner would work him up to it and encourage him through the process. Already he could feel the bull thrusting greedily, loins seeking their target. All through out, the empty kissing continued, this was spinning out of control quickly. Butch had to think fast, he moaned into his teacher's mouth, coincidentally at the same time as the mighty shaft found purchase on his taint. The bull grinned into the kiss, a moment's reprieve whispered into him. "Excited pup? I know you've been wanting it. Everything you wanted isn't it?"
He finally found his voice, quavering and uncertain, and still not willing to say outright what he truly wanted. "Its so big. Can we frot? I've always thought that would be hot?" There, easier to participate than try to end it. Compromise. That should get him. The bull grinned at his student, helplessly held beneath him, gargantuan meat throbbing just above his hole. One slight hip adjustment would be all it took to penetrate him. Butch hoped wordlessly, and bit his lip nervously.
Apparently the bull believe this a worthy alternative, and slid his meat up his crotch, even with the dog's turgid length. "He wants to frot, how cute. Very well little puppy. You can ride the beast later." He sandwiched the two shafts together, one clearly beating the other in terms of size. "But lets make a quick change here." Again, strong arms wrapped behind his back and he found himself lifted into the air. spinning in the air, their bodies crashed back into the bed, this time with Butch on top, straddling the bovines lap,cock poking into the pink fleshpole before him. Sitting up, he finally got a good look at it. A handsome maleness, it stood perhaps 13 inches, thick in the middle with a point to the tip. Meaty balls below him matched the size of mangoes. For a moment, he reconsidered, wondering what it would feel like to be speared atop that. But meeting the devious grin of the bull's face dashed that notion again, uncertain whether his partner would be willing to take it at his pace. Even now, the bull's hands groped across his body, feeling him up and grinding his hips down against him.
Powerful black furred left hand shifted over to the lube bottle, already poised and ready, as if this was a predetermined outcome. A guarantee to score. Butch felt cheap and easy. Even had he decided not to sex up his teacher, clearly it didn't matter anymore. Here he was. In bed with the older man, regardless of his meaning to. He couldn't even feel ashamed for it, this was what he had wanted. Fucking whore. The hand returned, cold and wet, and slathered its contents across their cocks. Then started jerking with the other hand, giving a contrast of friction to the sensation. Butch held himself up, but admittedly began to buck against the feelings. A hearty chuckle escaped his companion, "Feel good? I know what will really get you there." He leaned his head to the side, before he felt it. The lubed up left hand had a second mission, pressing more cold slickness against his hole. Thick digits worked into him, breaking his defenses wide as Mr. Fenton fingered his weakness.
Regardless of his reservation toward the idea of taking the huge cock throbbing beneath his belly, Butch loved ass play, and the fingers worked diligently to penetrate him in time with the hand massaging his cock. He leaned into, eyes now closed as his head came to rest against his teacher's chest. It felt amazing. Slow and methodical, applying the lube generously around the wide fingers. Barely a breadth of time later and he had already worked two in. All the while rubbing away at their cocks together. He was lost to the sensation. It lasted minutes, the fingers finding their way deeper in, the large cock throbbing against his own, the masterful handjob squeezing the two together. He was getting close again, and based off the deep breathing beneath him, he wasn't alone. Butch pressed his forehead against he torso, absorbing the experience, trying to gather every detail in a mental snapshot of the moment.
He had avoided being fucked by the older bull, and still made out with something that felt amazing. HE could not deny, the teacher was skilled, and he wasn't entirely opposed to what was going on. Waves of pleasure crashed against him as the bovine pushed him closer and closer to the edge. He lifted up his head to look up at his lover, who also appeared to be deep in the moment, eyes squeezed shut. Deep grunts beginning to form at his lips, he was cute when he was close Butch thought. The look sent him and he thrust into the ringed grip around their cocks, and began to unload. His anus spasmed around the two digits milking his load out, squeezing in time with the ropes of seed. His climax crashed against him abruptly however, as he was unceremoniously thrown backwards. Butch yelped, confused, as his legs were suddenly heaved backwards, and the thick phallus was pushed up against his rump. "Wait, I...," he interjected.
"Relax, I'm just..." hips pushed forward and the tip bumped against his pulsing hole. His major concern about being suddenly penetrated at the forefront of his mind, his orgasm thoroughly dashed along the shores of fear. Mr. Fenton thrust his pelvis against Butch, but his cock did not align with his ass, just kissing along the taint until moment later jettisoning his load with a loud open mouthed bellow from the male. His seed sprayed down over Butch's cock, face, and torso as he was bent asunder. He breathed deeply through it all, realizing his fear was not coming to pass, but still having come dangerously close. Adrenaline coursed through him, and it took him several counts to calm back down, seed dripping from his quickly limped dick, the still hard shaft of his teacher being wiped against his rump fluff.
Finally, Mr. Fenton came down from his climactic high and looked down to his young companion. "Haha. You're a mess." He dropped Butch's ankles and dismounted the bed. "Thanks for the trick, but try not to hold on to that cherry too much longer. I've got the remedy right here." He hefted his cock, cum still dribbling out of the tip. "You can keep the jock. Horny kid like you, I bet you were hoping to steal it anyway." Butch looked to the discarded cloth sitting next to him, and the bull left him abruptly, again forgetting to close the door. Butch sat in the bed for a moment, just breathing deeply for a moment, staring at the door. It had ended just as suddenly as it started. He... wasn't sure if he was glad or disappointed.
Finally alone again, he was no longer worried about consequences or expectations. Or what Mr. Fenton might be thinking or what his intentions were. All that didn't matter with him out of the room. But he felt alone. Horribly alone. And suddenly his skin crawled beneath the surface, as if it had never experienced touch before in his life. It felt stupid. He felt stupid. Discarded, and not in a sexy heap like Coach sometimes would. When that happened... there was something different about it. Sexy and appealing. This felt... shameful. He couldn't quite put it to words but he didn't feel good about what just happened, and more than anything, he longed for the familiar. His Coach. Richard. The bear who actually had actually been his first. The man who could make being objectified and used feel tender and intimate. Right now, he felt... violated. That was the word.
He shivered in the cold, the lube smeared across multiple parts of his body turning tacky and cold. Slippery in an uncomfortable way. Why did he feel this way? He resisted the urge to curl up in a ball, and once again made his way to the bathroom. He replayed the scene in his head as he prepped the water's temp. It had been unexpected, but it was arousing, was it not? He began to shake under the warm stream, it wasn't from cold. His chest felt tight and he had to take a moment to sit beneath the cascade. Breathes coming and going deeply, he felt light headed, as if he wasn't getting enough aid suddenly, and he forced himself to breath deeper. He didn't know why he suddenly felt worse than he ever had. The tightness escalated until it became painful. Was he having a heart attack? He tried not to panic, but he ended up leaned forward in the tub, head between his knees, arms protecting himself as he heaved. It was terrifying... and slowly it passed.
The strange episode left him dazed on the tub floor, exhausted inexplicably, and wishing more than anything to just be home. He knew one thing... He wanted to go home and just be alone. If he could just find a way to... He strained a moment to sit up, and then stand, his legs strangely shaky and weak. IT only took him a few moments to clean himself of the lube. The cum washed out in another moment, and finally the ache went with it as he regained his composure from whatever had robbed him of his strength. He exited the bathroom, clothed, a moment later to quiet house. The door to Mr. Fenton's room was still open, steam still wafting from the direction. He could hear mild humming coming from there, the bull pleased with his morning's activities.
Butch darted to the computer room, logging on as quickly as he could. A flash of keystrokes later and he had his email opened. He didn't have a moment to waste, and his determination was sure now. He could not stand to stay, his impulse to be anywhere else overwhelmed rhyme or reason. Just a few sentences and he sent off his simple missive. The recipient one Richard McClure. He hoped he would get it soon, but he didn't dare wait for a reply. Rationality had left his brain when he felt like he was dying the bathtub. He was leaving, with or without aid.
Like a storm with a purpose, he tore through the guest bedroom for all his belongings, tossing them haphazard in his rucksack. The only delay coming as he caught sight of the musty jockstrap left behind by his teacher. He viewed it, a confusing mix of bewilderment, anger, and pride. A trophy memento of his terrible decisions, he swiped it up and stuffed it into the rucksack with everything else. Then he exited the room. The bull's small white dog looked up from the couch by the fire but otherwise only stared, as if daring him to follow through with his plans. He locked the door from inside and closed it behind him, took a glance in the direction of Mr. Fenton's room, then walked down the hall and out the door. He had no reason to stay. Butch's feet made their way slowly down the drive, still picking a direction. They found their way moderately down the neighborhood street. Then briskly across and down the main road. Before he knew it, he was bolting away from it all. Hew knew his course roughly, and could figure it out as he went. Hopefully Richard would find him soon, because in that moment he didn't think he could convince himself to stop running.