"Richard Marsh, it's come to our attention that you've been involved in some rather risqué and immoral...uhm, extracurricular activities which doesn't look good for a student of this very conservative denominational college to be involved with...," the dean began.
Rick couldn't believe his world had come crashing down like this. Maybe I deserve it, Rick thought to himself as the dean droned on. He actually knew that was bullshit, but that little voice in the back of his head kept telling him he deserved whatever punishment he got. It almost screamed at him. Rick tried to change the noise in his head. Dr. Moorehead, he thought, that name's a joke in itself.
Rick stared blankly at the older man. He didn't want to give the older man the satisfaction of making him cry or beg. But, the dean would be a hot older man and in any other situation, Rick thought, he would've banged him. The square jaw, graying temples, broad shoulders. Yeah, he was indeed very fuckable, Rick laughed to himself.
"This is not funny, Mr. Marsh. This situation might end with you being expelled from this college," Dr. Moorehead chastised. He closed the file and sat back in his desk chair. "I think you should take some time to think over what you've done and we'll meet again very soon."
"Yes, Sir," Rick said dutifully as he got up. "Sorry."
"I can only hope you have seen all the errors of your ways...ALL your ways... and can recommit yourself to the standards of morality we hold dear and true at this historic Bible-led college. You are very close to finishing your coursework, Mr. Marsh, and your work and behavior on campus has been impeccable thus far. I don't know if we'll be able to get past this; however, God will forgive you of this blatant sin, but only with true repentance and sincere change. What is dirty, God can wash clean -think about that, son. Think about your future. Good day, Mr. Marsh."
Rick slogged back to his small apartment, the misty rain soaking into him.
He dropped his book bag and kicked off his shoes. He peeled off everything but his tight white boxer briefs then fell onto his futon. He let out a big sigh as he laid there. Just being warm and dry made the awful day better. His hand ran across his chest, feeling the warmth of his own body. He was feeling so much better now. His hand brushed over his left nipple and he felt a spark of pleasure. He went back and pinched the hardening nip, the closed circuit making his cock bounce in his briefs. His other hand slipped past the waistband of his briefs, his fingertips grabbing the head of his cock. So warm, Rick thought as his fingers massaged his cock.
He started thinking about his meeting with Dr. Moorehead, but this meeting in his mind was much better:
"So you want to be stripper in your spare time, boy?" the dean questioned.
"Yes, sir," Rick responded.
"Then strip, boy. Take off your clothes right now," the older man demanded. "What if I take mine off too? Would that make it easier, boy?"
Rick nodded.
The older man stood up and tugged at his necktie. He threw the tie to the floor and began unbuttoning his shirt. Ricky swallowed was the man's muscular torso was revealed covered in a thick pelt of salt and pepper hair. The man unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops with a snap. He popped open his trousers, looking at Rick with a smirk as he pulled out his shirt tails, shed his shirt, and threw it on the floor. He pushed his trousers down his thick thighs and just stood there in his white boxers.
"C'mon, Marsh, strip!" He barked at Rick.
Rick slowly pulled his shirt over his head. He let it drop to the floor and combed his fingers through his long hair, pushing the long strands out of his face.
"Keep going, son," Dr. Moorehead ordered. "And don't make me wait all day for the beautiful young body."
Rick tugged at his shorts and they fell down to his hightops. He kicked them away and stood there only in his shoes and a jockstrap. The dean walked around, now only wearing his white boxers and his dress shoes.
"You've been a really bad boy, son," Moorehead told him sternly. The older man pushed down his white boxers, revealing a dark patch of hair and a fat thick cock. "And what happens to a bad boy?"
Rick shook his head, as he stared at the big cock near him.
"Well, we don't get what we want, do we?" Moore asked as he shook his obscenely thick prick. "Answer me, boy!" he growled at Rick.
"No, Sir," Rick answered.
"We get what we deserve. Now, grab the edge of the desk," he ordered and grabbed a small paddle from the desk drawer.
"Do you accept this punishment willingly, Mr. Marsh?"
"Yes, Sir, I want it. I've been so bad," Rick responded as he bent over and grabbed the edge of the desk, his round bare ass completely exposed by the jockstrap.
Whack! The paddle slapped against the round bubble butt and Rick gritted his teeth. And back it came to redden his ass some more. Whack! Rick turned his head to look at the dean, taking in the masterful stance of the older man and his lecherous smirk. Precum dripped from the older man's fat prick like a silver thread and Rick wanted it.
"Yes, a young man who accepts the punishment for his transgressions," Moorehead said as he whacked the paddle again against the red pert buttocks. His hand stroked up and down his fat cock when Rick started to moan from the pleasure and the pain.
Rick's cock got tighter inside the pouch of his jockstrap. He wanted that older man's cock inside him. He wanted to taste that precum on his lips. Whack!
"All a boy like you needs to know is to obey your elders and God. You understand me, boy? Is this something you are prepared to do the rest of your life, son?"
"Yes, Sir, I'll do anything you tell me."
"Good, you sinful boy. Show me your favorite sin," the dean demanded, shaking his fat cock at Rick. "Show me your..."
"Yo, Ricky!" came a yell that shattered Rick's fantasy and then a furious knocking. Rick wiped the precum off his cock and hand with an old shirt, and stuffed his chubby cock into his briefs. He tied his long hair back and walked over to the door.
He opened the door and Johnny walked in.
"Where you been, Ricky? You forget about practice?" said Johnny as he flopped onto the futon. He pushed his ball cap to the side a bit. "Randy is pissed as fuck you didn't show up. Told me to tell you that you're not doing the show if you miss practice again."
