6 Times a Day

With so many sexual thoughts and images floating through Alan's head, it was no surprise that he spaced out in school once again. One thought that consumed him was the likelihood that Suzanne would come over in the morning and tell Susan every last detail about the three blowjobs she'd given him the night before. He imagined the two of them sitting around the dining room table talking, robes falling open all over the place, with his mother getting so excited that she would end up surreptitiously frigging herself under the table.

The fact that, in real life, she hadn't actually done something like that yet in front of Suzanne was somewhat surprising, because her self-control was so low once she became really excited.

The second and even more consuming thought for Alan was Suzanne's comment that his mother would be performing an abnormality check on his dick later that day. He was dying of curiosity to find out if that was true, but he'd been too shy, and also otherwise occupied with drool-inducing views of his sister and mother, to ask her about it that morning.

He wasn't entirely sure what an abnormality check even was, although he remembered that, technically speaking, Akami had given him one during his last appointment. He didn't see much difference between what she'd done and a handjob, except that her thumb had pressed into the sides of his erection in a systematic way.

He thought, But really, it's almost exactly the same as a handjob. In fact, it basically IS a handjob, because while Akami's thumb was doing all that pressing, her other hand was stroking me and making me feel exquisitely good. Is Mom going to do that, two hands and all?!

The possibility that Susan would jack him off when he came home from school drove him nearly senseless with distraction. Even if Suzanne's comment turned out not to be true, he was certain that more exciting things would happen later that day one way or another, given what had happened at breakfast. He couldn't help but notice how Susan's willpower was crumbling right before his eyes, seemingly by the minute.

He was so out of it that he was barely able to navigate his way from one class to the next.

At the end of his fourth-period class, his teacher, Ms. Rhymer, called him over to talk about his absent-mindedness. After everyone else had left, she said to him, "Young man, I'm worried about you. Your attention in my class has been bad for days; today things seem to be even worse. If I didn't know what a fine and upstanding young man you are, I'd assume you're on drugs. Just what is the problem?"

"Um, I've got a lot of things on my mind," he said bashfully.

Even as he said that, his mind was somewhere else. He'd managed to temporarily banish thoughts of his mother for part of the time during Ms. Rhymer's class, but only because he'd fantasized about his teacher instead. It was like trying to forget the pain of stubbing a toe by purposely stubbing a different toe: it worked temporarily but it wasn't exactly smart.

As she spoke, he didn't see his real teacher standing in front of him; instead his head was filled with the image of how he imagined she looked naked. He'd fantasized an image of her standing in front of the class naked so often in the last three years that it seemed etched in his brain.

"I'll bet you do," she said disapprovingly. "You know, young man, given what you told me last week, I think I can guess what your problem is."

"You can?" That forced him to focus more. Uh-oh! That can't be. She knows about me and Mom? Aunt Suzy? Sis? What?!

"Yes, I think that you're taking some kind of medicine to boost your energy level, and it's having the side effect of boosting your sex drive."

She judged from his suddenly panicky facial expression that her guess was a good one. She didn't notice his relief in realizing that she didn't understand everything.

"Um, what makes you say that?"

The big give-away for her had been his obvious erection throughout the class. She tried to say that more euphemistically. "It's not so much what you told me, but your behavior in this class. In recent days, it seems like you've been walking into my class in a state of high arousal, and you stay that way until you leave it. Am I wrong?"

There was no way to wiggle out that he could see. "No, you're not wrong. I'm so sorry. But I've never felt like this before."

A horrific thought occurred to him: Oh no! She's been noticing my boners! Even as he worried about that, most of his brain was off in la-la land with the image of her nakedness, fueling the boner he had at that very moment.

"Can't you just ask the doctor to cut down on the number of pills?"

"It's not a matter of pills." There was a prolonged silence. He considered letting her in on the six-times-a-day secret. He finally decided he would, if only because he figured that, once she was on the scent, keeping a secret from her was hopeless.

He was a clever guy, so normally he would have been able to come up with some cover story to deflect her curiosity. However, he'd been in a lusty daze all day, unable to think about much except what had happened that morning and what could happen when he got home. As a result, he took the easy way out and decided to tell her most of the truth without thinking through the risks of doing so.

He asked, "Can you really, honestly, keep a secret?" He tried to focus on the problem at hand and push his lusty thoughts aside.

"Of course, Alan! You know me. You can trust me completely."

"Good, because this is really embarrassing. If people in school found out, I'd probably have to transfer, I'd be so embarrassed. I really shouldn't tell you this, so for the love of God don't tell a soul, but I figure you won't be satisfied until you find out, so we might as well cut to the chase. You see, the tests show I'm severely lacking in certain hormones, like testosterone. I know it sounds strange, but the best way, the natural way, to get those levels back to normal is if I achieve orgasm frequently. That's what the doctor says."

He went on to explain more details of his medical diagnosis.

She let him talk without interruption. When he was all done, she asked him, "So you're telling me that you masturbate six times a day?"

"Um, well, not exactly. The doctor thought that much masturbation isn't healthy. He recommends that it's better if someone else can help me out. But I don't have a girlfriend. As you seem to know, I tried to ask Christine out ... but that didn't work out so well."

"But you said 'not exactly.' So you're getting help after all, even without a girlfriend?"

He was really blushing now. "Um, sometimes I'm helped out in the morning before school. Or, more often, after I get back home."

She thought for a minute. To help him out in the morning and afternoon, it would have to be someone extremely close. Probably someone he's living with. He has a really beautiful mother and sister. Could one of them... and he...?! Naaahhhh... Get real! They're like a nineteen-fifties sitcom, white-bread conservative family. But what about his next door neighbor, Suzanne Pestridge? She's extremely attractive, and practically lives at Alan's house, from what he tells me. He talks about her a lot, and I know he even calls her his aunt, although she really isn't. It must be her. Or maybe her daughter Amy, but then she would be his girlfriend. It must be the married mother; that would explain the need for secrecy.

The teacher immediately tested out her theory. "That's very considerate of Mrs. Pestridge to help you out like that."

"Yeah, well, she's very... Hey! Wait a minute! How did you... You tricked me!" Normally, he wouldn't have fallen for that, but he was still in an erotic fog, thinking with the wrong head.

"Sorry about that, but you know that 'I always get my man' when it comes to the pursuit of knowledge. Frankly, I'm surprised at you. Suzanne Pestridge? Really? She's practically like a member of your family. Somehow, she even usually has an excuse to 'tag along' with your mother to your parent-teacher conferences with me."

He gave her a pleading look. "I know! I know! But I can't help it. She did all the initiating. And she was practically forced to, because of the situation: after a week, and my disaster with Christine, I'd given up on the treatment. She was the one that inspired me to keep going."

"Just how does she inspire you?" She was increasingly amazed at the subject of this discussion. Aren't I crossing a line in talking to a student about this? Her conscience momentarily nagged her, but curiosity - and more than a little sexual desire - drove her on.

He shuffled his feet before her desk. "Ahhh... She stimulates my ... er, private member ... with her hands, and, uh, other things. ... Her mouth, if you must know. ... But she doesn't go any further than that! That wouldn't be right! She hasn't even kissed me!" He couldn't look his teacher in the eye and literally wished he could crawl into a hole and die.

"Hmmm. Interesting. I'm not going to make any moral judgments. It seems like she's trying to help you out, and that should be commended. But what does any of this have to do with your problems in my class? If you're not taking any pills, then your libido, your sexual level, is just the same as always, right?"

"Yes, but I keep having all these thoughts. Aunt Suzy, er, Mrs. Pestridge, has been very... I don't know how to put it ... suggestive, I guess. Sexually suggestive. She's so sexy, it's incredible! So now all I can do is think about sex!"

He added in his mind, And if you only knew how suggestive Mom, Sis, and even Aims are being as well! I want to fuck them all, and it's so wrong!

Her face was hard to read as she said, "I can see your problem. Mrs. Pestridge is an incredibly beautiful woman; there's no question about it. In fact, I dare say she just might be the most gorgeous woman I've ever met in the flesh. Hmmm. So you walk around in a daze all day, thinking about nothing but sex?"

"Well, no. I've been getting relief, like, a lot. And then I'm okay, afterwards. For a while. It's weird: I haven't been doing this treatment for very long, but once you start getting relief so often it's like your body comes to expect it. But for half the day I'm at school, and I can't get any relief at all while I'm here. So the frustration builds up. And your class is the worst."

"My class? Why my class?"

He realized he'd stuck his foot in his mouth yet again. Her class was the worst because he would get hard just in anticipation of the class coming up. And then he'd see her in person and it would get even worse.

There were few thoughts so arousing that they could make him temporarily forget his arousing thoughts about his mother; the fact that thinking of his beautiful teacher was one of them spoke to just how long he'd had a deep crush on her. But such feelings only led to more frustration, since she was his teacher and thus unobtainable.

That frustration, and the fact that his raging boner might be noticed at almost any time by the other students, would somehow make him even hornier. But I can't exactly say all that to you! he thought.

"Um, it just is," he finally responded. He was already about as red and embarrassed as he thought he could get, but he got several shades redder. "Uh, maybe because ... it's just before lunch," he added, completely unconvincingly.

She realized that this line of questioning was making him want to die of shame. "All right, Alan. Thank you very much for your honesty, young man. Let me think about this for a while. I don't want you failing all of your classes. I'll try to think of some kind of solution. And I won't tell anyone under any circumstance - not your mother, or Mrs. Pestridge, or anyone else. I know I can be a gossip sometimes, but I swear my complete silence on this. You're a good friend, and I would never betray your trust. It'll be just between you and me, okay?"

"Thanks. Thank you so much! You're the best."

He walked off, but he was very dejected. He felt really stupid about having given up his secret. My brain is out to lunch today. What if that happened with someone less understanding than my favorite teacher?