Making Music With Travis by Travis

Travis Howard made his way across campus toward the music building. As usual, the 18-year-old African-American boy was solemn and pensive. He was furious that his father had become a prominent member in the Republican Party and they had moved to the prestigious Westmore Gardens exurb where life in general seemed cold and calculated. He had to suppress what he enjoyed, and had to rejoice in things that he hated. One of those things was having to take cello lessons two hours a day during the week and five to ten hours during the weekend. But since he was musically inclined, his parents said his being proficient with the cello would strongly suggest to the powers-that-be within the Republican Party that the Howard family was steeped in 'civilized' culture. Travis himself would rather be taking guitar or saxophone lessons. But those instruments were so 'cliche' for a black boy had chided his mother. Nonetheless, he could only thank his lucky stars that his parents had at least not suggested he take up the violin.

So, despite his full load of high school subjects at which he excelled, he exerted himself tremendously toward the Cello discipline solely because his father had said it would win him a music scholarship. He wasn't very good at basketball and football, so music was his ticket. But, unfortunately, he had reached a plateau - a long stale stretch of no-growth. A few weeks ago he noticed that he was making the same mistakes repeatedly, ingraining error more deeply with each practice session. He felt he could not overcome the problem without help. So his parents arranged that he take private instruction from Lars-Erik Sanderson, the high school's music teacher.

Sanderson is 30 years old, 6-foot 2-inches tall, with an array of thick curly blond hair. He is a very handsome charismatic man with clear, peaches-and-cream skin, about whom the sexually repressed Travis Howard had fantasized about many, many times while beating his big chocolate boner on many a lonely night. The fantasy always centered on Travis sucking the teacher's perfect cock and then having him pound his tight little black boy hole and eventually blasting huge loads of cum way up inside him, time after time after time, all night long.

Travis' fantasies of the 6-ft 2-inch Aryan god ravaging his trim 5-ft 7-in teenager's body was incredibly erotic to him.

Sanderson was the only homosexual fixation Travis had. He frequently masturbated to flicks on gay porn sites; but that was it as far as any overt behavior. He had no crushes on any young men in his life. After all, don't all fags go to hell?

Therefore, Travis never even thought of flirting with Mr. Sanderson. He was positive the man was straight from his very masculine demeanor and attitude. And yet...there was that certain way the impressive man looked at the handsome black teenager over in class...

Travis tried to push those thoughts away as he made his way across the campus toward Mr. Sanderson's office. Nothing had ever happened and it probably never will.

As the Black teenager was about to knock on the office door, it flew open and there stood Mr. Sanderson. He offered a faint smile and told his music student to 'come on in'. As usual, he locked the door behind them and there they sat knee-to-knee as they played a measure over and over and over. Sanderson would stop, place a finger of Travis's left hand on the correct string, and then have him replay a note or two, over and over and over again until Travis got it right.

As Sanderson leaned over in Travis' direction, he'd part his legs even more to let his own cello rest against his body for a moment. At one point, very surprised, Travis noticed that his music teacher was getting an erection. He quickly looked away.

After about twenty minutes of Sanderson placing Travis' hand here and then there, and listening and encouraging the results, he finally patted the black boy's leg and said, "Now you've got it! You might want to practice those measures a couple of hundred times to make sure you master them before our next session. Don't get frustrated if you have a slip-up - your hands will eventually begin to remember how to do it automatically."

His large warm hand stayed on Travis' leg as he told the boy this; and after a while the teenager felt his young cock begin stir. The burgeoning erection was further fired by looking down and noticing the clear outline of the man's huge cock straining and jerking inside his pant leg.

Sanderson got up, set aside his cello and stepped to his desk to find another piece of music; one that many schools use for auditions. He walked behind Travis and placed it on the aluminum stand -- then kneeled beside the boy.

"Now this one requires fast fingering, and it's difficult. But you'd do well to master and memorize it," he said, letting his hand fall halfway up on Travis' thigh.

Travis' cock twitched and throbbed at the man's touch.

The man pointed at the sheet music and said something else, but the teenager was no longer listening. Sanderson's hand was moving back and forth on Travis' inner thigh, and straying to within millimeters of his hard pulsing cockhead.

"You're a bright, beautiful young man," said Sanderson, "I guarantee you that you'll be a fine musician." His wrist then moved over the boy's cock and Travis felt it surge and leap involuntarily toward the man. Swiftly, Sanderson pulled his hand back and roughly grabbed the boy's meat.

"Huummmm." smiled Sanderson, his bright blue eyes warmly smiling down into the warmth of Travis' hazel eyes. "You're hard ... and so big!" he continued. He began jacking the teenager's boner as it pressed up against the fabric of his pants. Methodically, Sanderson unzipped Travis' pants and then carefully eased the rigid ebony treasure out of his pants.

The teenager couldn't believe what was happening. It was too good to be true. This was the stuff of which dreams are made. Was he dreaming, he thought, as he slowly lowered his cello to the floor? Was he at home on his bed beating off to an imaginary vision of Lars-Erik Sanderson? When the musical instrument reached the floor, Sanderson's big wet mouth swallowed up Travis' eight inch cock whole.

The boy shouted and melted in his chair. He had never had a blow job before, and it was happening with the most handsome man he had ever seen. A fantasy man. A whack-off fantasy. A man whom he hadn't imagined ever saw him as a sexual possibility. Through sex-glazed eyes he watched, with thrilled excitement, the man's moist pink lips ride up and down on his stiff, rich brown meat.

He wanted to reach up and touch that healthy shock of cornsilk hair; rub his hands through it. Instead, he just closed his eyes and felt his skinny hips begin to hump up into his music teacher's hot wet mouth. With eyes closed, the exciting idea of getting completely naked with Mr. Sanderson filled his sex-clouded mind.

Slowly his eyes opened and he looked in the direction of the window. Although they were both safely locked in Sanderson's office, the window blinds were open. If someone were to walk past they could have seen clearly the loving-making going on. That exhilarating risk caused Travis' dick get even harder.

Sanderson was loving and worshipping Travis Howard's big black sweaty dick. He hummed and softly moaned as he swirled his saliva-soaked tongue slowly around the fat pulsing cockhead. Then, he began to swiftly plunge his head all the way down on the glistening black boner until his white flushed face was buried deep in the boy's copious kinky bush. Then, raising his head again until just the sweet tip of Travis' cock was on his lips, he'd rapidly plunge his mouth back down again.

Travis was going nuts with hot crazy pleasure. Afraid at first to make a sound, but in no time at all his sex-drenched grunts and moans were matching rhythm and noise with those of Sanderson.

The boy scooted down forward on the wood chair as Sanderson slid down the underside of his throbbing cock and began to lathe those big juicy black-boy balls with his wet, hungry, exploring tongue. Greedily, he sucked those two tasty nuts into his mouth as his abundant saliva bathed them in lust. At the same time his huge hand jacked the trembling young phallus.

Sanderson hands then went up to Travis' buckle and commenced unfastening it. Slowly he slipped Travis' pants and underwear down over that fine young muscular teenage frame. The white man loudly gasped at the sight of all that juicy brown majesty. In the same motion, Travis too trembled and groaned in delight of now being undressed by his Viking god. Each was in delicious sexual awe of the other's beauty.

Pulling the boy pants and briefs down to his ankles and removing them and his shoes, Sanderson put Travis's legs up over his broad manly shoulders. Then, almost reverently, he eased down to the almost hairless tight little butt-hole; the man groaned in lascivious delight as his tongue darted out and rapidly impaled the sweet tasty brown meal before him.

Travis' entire body shook and jerked in euphoric command, as something similar to a boyish squeal escaped his full lips. This was a brain-dizzying sensation that he'd never experienced before. Never in his wildest imaginings did he ever think that anyone would ever put their lips to asshole before. It was so filthy and yet so exhilarating. His entire youthful existence burned excitedly with a new beginning and his hands went out to Sanderson's blonde head and caressed and pulled at the abundant strands there. Sanderson's tongue swirled and jabbed and plunged deeply into the sweet chocolate dessert, while he simultaneously jacked the kid's big, throbbing cock. Then slowly retracting the tongue from deep within the tight tasty hole, he methodically lapped his wet licker from the beginning of the velvety crack all the way up to the tip of the teenager's pulsing dickhead. After pleasurably experiencing this sensation several times, Travis Howard was literally crying out rapturously from the sharp embracing pangs of unimagined sexual gratification.

Again, without warning, Sanderson swallowed the black cock whole, fiercely clamping his lips tightly around the base and crazily bobbing his head up and down in swift quick strokes. Each downward motion ended with a loud, strong furious sucking - with the tight, wet upward pull that always brought the virginal boy close to the edge of moments.

Sanderson motions remained steady, but Travis continued to fiercely fight the orgasm to prolong this new and exciting pleasure. But with it being his first blow job, his self-control wasn't very good.

From somewhere far off and faint, he heard a seemingly agonizing cry -- only to soon discover it was his own throat that was releasing such a plaintive rejoicing of a victory achieved, as his throbbing cock gushed and splattered a river of semen into the music teacher's mouth, flooding the man's tongue, teeth and throat with his fertile adolescent spooge.

With his eyes closed, and with Travis' exploding cock buried to the root, Sanderson moaned in orgiastic delight as he greedily swallowed onslaught after onslaught of the boy's very generous ejaculations.

Almost two minutes later, as Travis lay there on the wooden chair, spent and elated, with legs still propped across the man's shoulders, Sanderson still sucked the semi-erect phallus in hopes of getting every last vestige of Travis Howard's milky genetic offering until there was absolutely none left.

Sleepily, in that position, Travis looked in the direction of the satisfied man. Sanderson's clear, sparkling blue eyes regarded the kid with a smile, "You are good," he said. "You are sooooo good! And the taste of you is sweeter than anything else on this planet."

At that moment, Travis was sure he'd be able to comfortably lie within the caressing gaze and sound of Mr. Sanderson for the rest of his life.

But, slowly lifting the pretty muscular legs from his shoulders and patting the beautiful black cock, the man stood up. The tent in his slacks was enormous. Before he could step back to his chair to sit down, the usually shy Travis Howard sprang up and seized the man's dick, tightly fondling it beneath the fabric.

Sanderson froze with a look of considerable surprise. Swiftly Travis unzipped the slacks. With a bit of difficulty he was finally able to free the man's massive member. It looked as thick as a coke can. It was cut and about eleven inches.

"Oh, man, I could never handle this much cock." said Travis as much to himself as to Sanderson.

But even so, the teenager eagerly leaned forward and began to tongue the fat pulsing head. The head alone seemed almost as big as a lemon. And the love-eye of that lemon was releasing pre-cum that flowed as thickly as a regular ejaculation for most guys.

Travis licked at it and kissed it and tried to get it into his mouth. The black teenager loved the feel and sexual scent of his music teacher - it was even better than he had imagined in those midnight fantasies. And despite how huge and unmanageable the truncheon appeared to be, he was determined to pleasure his new lover.

Travis got down on his knees and grabbed the shaft in both hands and began to furiously pump it while he licked it and sucked the tip of the head.

"Hey, you're doing fine, young man," gasped Sanderson. "That's really great. Don't stop, okay?!"

Travis discovered that what Sanderson seemed to like most was his tongue licking the area just behind the cockhead; so he began to skillfully run the flat of his tongue back and forth in that area while he jacked the huge member for several minutes.

"Oh! Oh! Better move, kid" shouted Sanderson, trying to push Travis' head away from his cock. "I'm gonna blow! I'm gonna shoot!"

He tried nudging the teenager away. But Travis was having none of it. He resisted and kept his mouth in place.

The man erupted like a fire hose. Travis had no choice but to eventually move aside after the first thick blast filled and overflowed his teenage mouth. As Travis swallowed, the music teacher continued to spurt and ricochet huge globs of jism over his shoulder. Soon Travis quickly put his mouth back as the last full spurt was blasted. He swallowed and then held the mammoth head in his mouth and accepted the abundant dribbles of juice that seemed like they'd never stop. The boy sucked and sucked until the elephant-trunk of a penis went soft.

Tenderly, Sanderson eased his meat from the boy's mouth and hands, and tucked it back onto his pants - and sat down.

"Well, that's all the time I have for today's lesson. But you're a very special student, and I give you my personal guarantee that you will get a scholarship to either the Peabody Institute, New England Conservatory, if not, Julliard."

For the rest of the school year, Travis Howard and Prof. Lars-Erik Sanderson made wonderful music together.