Guidance (closed for ericrodman101) [M/M]

[tamgreen]

Toby clutched his vending machine treasures to his chest, feeling unexpectedly cleansed. Was getting help really as simple as asking for it?

He almost smiled. Almost. But the man's sudden hand on his shoulder made him flinch and reflexively pull away with a grim expression. He could justify the contact when it was a fight, but not when it was straight up friendliness. It was too strange, too new. So was saying "thank you" to anyone, so he didn't.

"See you," he mumbled, turning immediately to retreat down the hallway, eating his sandwich as he went. He could save half of this one for dinner.

Before he had taken a dozen steps, however, he found himself pausing to look back, still feeling a phantom warmth from that hand that had touched his shoulder in such an affectionate way. (Affectionate? Was that it? Was it paternal? Did he have any frame of reference for what "paternal" meant?)

Toby had expected Gerry would have run off by then, but the counsellor was still there, watching him go. A strange tickle crawled up his spine and neck as their eyes locked, and his heart sped up. Retreating from this feeling, Toby quickly turned back around and hurried faster down the hallway.

He did his best to do as Gerry had suggested, that afternoon in class. He listened. He looked for the lessons about succeeding. But in the end, he couldn't find anything that he could apply to real life. Iambic pentameter? Thermochemical equations? What use was any of this to his life? It was all just hoops to jump through to get that fucking piece of paper that might not end up doing him any good regardless.

But it was something. It would be an accomplishment.

He felt drained by the time three o'clock came around - putting in an effort took a lot out of him - but he decided to stay in the school library as long as he could. It was a way to avoid having to figure out what to do with the rest of his day, and he could get some homework done in case he didn't have many other opportunities.

When they finally kicked him out, Toby found himself mindlessly wandering back near the counsellor's office.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry watched Toby clutch the vending machine food close to his chest, and walk away after a brief 'see you'. There was no hoped for smile, but the day had been a success all the same. And then, as Toby reached the end of the corridor, Gerry was heartened when the kid turned back, not to smile, just to pause and look. It was sufficient a gesture to affirm to Gerry that Toby was OK. For now at least.

And then the older man turned and strode out of the school on his mission. Today he'd resolved to fuck Andrea.

Gerry hadn't always thought of sexual relations as fucking. He'd had a conservative upbringing. Intimacy was treasured, the final act of companionship with your chosen life partner, at which destination you arrived after finding out everything else about them, including whether they wanted to enter a legal contract to spend the rest of their life with you. After all this, avowed privately and publicly, you found yourself and your chosen one in the honeymoon bed where you fumbled through your first sexual intercourse, the first of a lifelong education of each other.

It was a crazily stilted and unrealistic view of modern life, Gerry knew, but still something so strongly ingrained into him that when he thought about marriage and companionship, that's where his mind first went. And yet he wasn't a virgin on his wedding night, even if his few unsatisfactory liaisons had taught him little except which bit went where.

And Andrea? Well, Gerry was convinced Andrea was a virgin on their wedding night. They'd never discussed it, indeed almost never discussed sex at all. But after the wedding reception, he'd found Andrea in bed in a heavy nightgown with the lights off, and proceeded to deflower his bride with almost no assistance from her. Fucking Andrea for the first time, as Gerry remembered it, had all the electricity of masturbating into a pillow.

But things looked up after that, even if Andrea was strictly missionary. On the rare occasions Gerry plucked up the courage to suggest they try something different like fucking somewhere other than bed, or changing positions, or heaven forbid, oral - anal he'd never suggested - she'd dismiss it as ridiculous. But she never rejected his advances and for the most part Gerry and Andrea had a few years of regular if infrequent vanilla sex.

And then, after the birth of their one and only child, Andrea had gone back to college, graduated, made her way up the career ranks to Marketing Director. Their sex life subsided as quickly as Andrea's star rose. When they'd last had sex Gerry couldn't really remember, or even when they'd started sleeping in separate rooms to accommodate Andrea's need for early starts, and Gerry's for staying up late jerking over the laptop.

Today, Gerry decided, was going to be the start of a new era. Why today? Why not? His success with Toby was part of it, but in the end now was as good a time as any. He knew she'd be home from the conference, tired and relaxed, so what better than to arrive home unexpectedly during the day to reignite the flame.

Gerry was passing the gas station where he bought breakfast when the idea of flowers and chocolates came to him. What better way to disarm Andrea than with a gift? She'd liked gifts in the old days until the gifts she was receiving as Marketing Director far outshone anything Gerry might buy.

He parked in the drive and, flowers and chocolates in hand, opened the front door. Andrea's suitcases sat against the wall. Had she taken two cases? He couldn't remember. They were new and expensive, and he didn't remember them either. But then she'd left for the conference before he was awake, and the college probably provided her with luggage.

Gerry put his bag down in the hall, and glanced in the mirror. He brushed his hand across his hair, looked up his nostrils, licked his lips, and smiled to himself. It would have to do, but then the surprise was all going to happen down below. He skipped to the stairs, stopped again and listened. There was a low murmur of voices upstairs. Andrea had fallen sleep with the radio on again, Gerry thought. She was always doing that and sometimes when he'd tired of porn and gone to bed, he'd stop by the room where Andrea was sleeping and switch off her radio before going to his own room.

Should I just waltz in and wake her, he thought as he reached the top of the stairs, or sit on the bed and wait for her to open her eyes? Gerry was still pondering the question even as he reached the door of her room, not really concentrating on the sounds from the radio, but registering them as male voices. Andrea's door was open a little. Gerry stopped, then tiptoed along the hall to where the light shone in through the crack. And just as he reached the door, Andrea's voice rang out. Not words, more of a cross between a moan and a scream, but clearly Andrea. And then a male voice. 'Suck my cock.' And then a different male voice. 'You like it there?' And then Andrea saying 'mmmmmm'.

Gerry stopped at the cracked door and peered inside. Andrea was lying naked on her back across one corner of their double bed. Her head was bent back over the side and a fit young black guy was thrusting his cock hard into her mouth. Her legs were being raised shoulder high by a white guy, equally young and fit, who was standing by the bed and obviously fucking her. Gerry leaned forward, one eye glued to the opening. Up close, the sounds of the threesome were unmistakable. Not a lot of talk. Just the occasional 'fuck' and 'mmm', and a slapping sound as the white guy's torso contacted Andrea's ass.

Gerry was torn between staying to the end and running downstairs, but not once did he consider intervening. No, this was Andrea's response to no sex and even as he scrolled through a thousand emotions, he somehow understood. He could see that she was still a fine looking woman. Indeed, Gerry wondered if she was secretly working out. Her firm tits swayed and bounced with the rhythm of the fucking, and her throat rose and fell as it swallowed the black cock. Gerry almost felt as if he was watching a cougar porn film.

And the guys? They must own the suitcases, Gerry realised. Andrea's suitcase he recognised on the floor under the window. Who were they? Colleagues? Escorts? Did it matter?

And as he watched he found himself aroused, his hand straying down to the front of his trousers and finding his cock. She gives good head, he thought....just not to me. Which realisation deflated Gerry a little. He turned away and tiptoed back downstairs.

Gerry stood in the hallway by the two unfamiliar suitcases. Should he stay? Why? To confront her? To confront the guys? And cause a scene? What would he say? What would any of them say? Andrea had probably been fucking around for years. Like he said to himself, she's a fine looking woman whom I've neglected, so she's taken advantage of her workplace. Naturally. Who wouldn't want to fuck the Marketing Director? She could probably choose any intern she wanted. Every intern. And they'd jump at the chance of showing how much they wanted promotion. It was one of the earliest porn memes Gerry had enjoyed and given a quiet moment right now and a laptop, he'd watch. Cougar fucks interns. Standing in the hall by the suitcases, he was hard again.

But Gerry wasn't going to stay. He wasn't even sure he was going to raise it. Far better to go back to school and pretend it never happened. Surprising Andrea had always been a dumb idea. They'd fallen in love, married, fucked, borne a child, stopped fucking and moved on. That sequence of events, on reflection, seemed inevitable. Set in stone. Andrea had new lovers now. And Gerry had his laptop and his hand.

He opened the front door quietly and stepped outside. The street seemed grey and shadowed, the houses quiet and aloof. He stood on the porch for a long moment, feeling his age, deflated as his cock. On the drive back to school Gerry asked himself what he should do, but he had no answers. His whole life felt like a downhill ride to this point. Thirty years a guidance counsellor, or one year thirty times, listening to stupid punks and their brain dead parents explain why nothing was their fault and the world owed them a favour. And Gerry would nod and agree and find the right words to sooth their hurt feelings or explain away their crazy, destructive actions when maybe the best thing to do would have been to say they were all stupid fucking cunts who deserved everything they brought down on their own heads.

By the time he reached the school Gerry had a headache and a feeling like there was nothing to look forward to. Nothing but another year like the last one, and another until...until what? A gold watch? A farewell? Speeches full of nice words from people who had no regard for him? And then....

He let himself in the side door. It was later than he realised. The school was quiet. And when he turned the corner into his corridor, Toby was waiting at his door.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby didn't know why he was here. Maybe Gerry's office just felt a tiny bit more homey than his actual home. He knew the guy had left hours ago, but perhaps some part of him hoped Gerry had returned. He paused outside the door, listening, just to make sure.

And then there was the sound of heavy, slightly shuffling footsteps. When he looked up, he felt spooked for a surreal moment, seeing Gerry Metzler himself rounding the corner, as if Toby's thoughts had crossed over into reality.

Something was wrong. Even with his limited experience in the skill of empathy, Toby could tell something was very wrong. When he looked at Metzler's face, at his eyes, it was like looking at an approaching storm. Were those tears in his eyes? They looked wet.

Toby debated within himself the possibility of just walking away without saying anything, but he felt practically paralyzed. He couldn't stop staring at the man.

"What... what's going on?" he said in a near-whisper.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry walked up to Toby half in a dream. The kid looked scared for some reason, staring back at him as if there was something wrong with Gerry's face.

"What's going on?" Toby said.

"Going on?" Gerry stopped by the door and found the key. He pushed it open and stepped inside, not much noticing if Toby had followed. He walked to his desk, turned and sat. Toby was standing just inside the door.

"Not going home then?" Gerry asked. What the fuck was the kid staring at?

 

[tamgreen]

Home? Did he even really have one? What a question. Toby ignored it.

He took a step inside the room.

"Something's wrong," he insisted. "With you, I mean. You look... sad. Are you sad?"

Toby clenched his jaw for a frustrated moment. The old man seemed to be pretending everything was fine when it wasn't. It rankled him.

"If I have to talk about my dumb feelings, why shouldn't you?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Dumb feelings. What was the kid talking about? Gerry felt numb. Sad? Jesus. Am I sad?

"I'm fine, Toby, just fine."

Gerry looked down at his desk. He put out a hand to pick up a file, but the papers slipped sideways and spilled onto the floor.

"Fine...." He looked up and tried to smile through a flood of tears.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby stared back at him, trying to figure out this weird fake smile of his that looked as if it were about to fall apart.

Don't lie to me you fuck!

He resisted the instinct to yell, to be angry. For once, Toby thought twice about his raw, feral instincts and knew he wouldn't get anywhere with yelling and anger.

In truth, this scared him - the counsellor had seemed so sure of himself a handful of hours ago, and now he looked like a fragile facade.

"You're not fine," Toby insisted, walking up Gerry, rounding his desk as if to corner him. He didn't want Gerry to escape this the way Toby had tried to escape so much.

"You have tears. Please...? Don't lie to me."

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry couldn't hide his upset any longer. He sensed as much as watched Toby walk up to the desk and then round to his side. Gerry wept openly, feeling the wet warmth of tears on his face, the unreality of losing it, not just as a fifty-something man, but in front of a student. 'Fuck,' he said audibly. 'Fuck, fuck.'

And then Toby was up close. "...tears," Gerry heard the boy say, but as if from a long way off. "Please. Don't lie to me."

Gerry felt wretched. He wanted to talk, confide in Toby, and yet say nothing to anyone ever, all at the same time. Toby was beside him. Gerry raised his right hand and reached for the kid.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby had never seen a grown man cry. Nor had anyone ever reached for him out of this sort of need. It did something strange to him, like some part deep inside him was flipping over or unknotting itself. He ought to have booked it out of here and left the old guy to whatever crazy breakdown he was having, if even just to save the man the embarrassment, but no way could Toby pull away now.

Gerry needed somebody. The person who was supposed to help everyone else who was struggling was crumbling and reaching out in weakness. It was the most fascinating and seductive thing the boy had ever witnessed. It was almost hypnotic.

Not stopping to consider how weird, wrong, or generally fucked up it was, Toby went to him and leaned in, grabbing ahold of him as if to continue the strange wrestle they'd been locked in earlier, but it was impossible to do with Gerry sitting and him standing. So Toby went for what seemed in the heat of the moment to be the most logical solution - sliding out of his backpack and letting it fall, he lowered himself down and straddled the man's lap, looping his arms around Gerry and hanging on like a small, clinging marsupial.

 

[ericrodman101]

If the afternoon had moved slowly and painfully for Gerry, what happened when he reached out to Toby took him completely by surprise. Putting his arm out had been instinctive, a cry for help. Toby was here and Gerry felt lost and unloved. And then, before he'd even processed the outcome, Gerry found the kid in his lap, sitting astride him, arms holding him close.

The older man held his breath. He was moved and alarmed. Toby's response to his unconcealed pain was unexpected and yet the most natural human response Gerry could imagine. He'd spent most of the week shadowboxing with Toby, circling round him, giving him space, advancing when the boy relaxed and retreating when he spat. There'd been victories and defeats, but today Gerry felt he'd started winning more than losing. Buoyed by the successes, Gerry had resolved to seek victory with Andrea too, and victory over his own lethargy and resignation.

But in this attack his defeat had been total. Annihilating. Returning to school had been as much an absence of anywhere else to go as a thoughtful response. And yet, as luck would have it, Gerry had returned to Toby. Not luck. Fate, Gerry thought, feeling the boy adjusting his slight frame in his lap, cuddling him, fidgeting awkwardly. Gerry buried his face in the boy's clothing, drinking in a warm, woollen musk, sensing Toby exhale gently into his hair. It was perfectly normal to raise his arms now and embrace Toby too, Gerry's crying subsiding to sobs.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby's heart pounded painfully hard, dizzyingly fast. The fucking guidance counsellor was crying on him. What the hell happened? Did someone die? Did he get fired? Maybe it didn't need to matter at the moment. Toby was amazed and excited and bafflingly turned on.

Adrenaline pumped through the boy. He felt so powerful in this moment - he'd never felt a sense of power like this. He would have expected to take advantage as much as possible if he ever had the slightest degree of power, but he didn't have any inclination to exploit this man. He was simply awed, and basked in it.

And the pure physicality - god, he soaked it in like a thirsty sponge. Whenever he wasn't fighting he had always avoided being touched his whole life, as if people were all made of broken glass and nails. He was accustomed to physical contact being something painful or uncomfortable or both. Instead this was warm and safe and comfortable... and he was growing harder by the moment. How fucked up was his brain that he'd get a hard-on from holding onto a crying man?

Maybe part of it had to do with the fact that his ass was perched right on top of something that also felt hard. Fuck... was that actually Metzler's cock? Was this just his imagination?

Toby's breath shivered. He inhaled deeply through his nose and trembled again. The man smelled so nice. Clean, but masculine. Safe. Comfortable. Perhaps just a little bit dangerous. His beard was softer than Toby would have expected. He rubbed his cheek against it and sighed.

What the hell was happening?

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry held the kid close, rubbing his hands gently across Toby's back. He felt Toby continue to adjust the awkward stance he'd taken sitting astride Gerry's lap. Gradually, Gerry felt Toby slide into him until the two men held each other tight and close. The silence in the room seemed palpable. Gerry stopped sobbing and let himself go with the embrace. Toby was breathing deeply. Gerry felt the boy's breath on his hair and then as Toby relaxed into his hold, on his face. First nuzzling Toby's chest, Gerry pushed his nose into Toby's neck, rubbing against the soft skin.

And then they were cheek to cheek. Gerry could feel the boy against his beard, sighing and holding his breath, then gently exhaling, the warm air coursing across Gerry's face to his ear. He only had to turn his head to meet Toby's mouth. It took all of Gerry's resolve to hold still, to be patient. He could already imagine the taste of Toby on his tongue, anticipating the pause when their lips came together, and then the release as two people accepted their coming together and opened up into a kiss. Wait, Gerry wait....when it happens the sensation, the pleasure will be all the better for the waiting.

Gerry was hard. It didn't surprise him so much as feel entirely natural. His cock was caught uncomfortably under the boy, but as Toby squirmed and settled, Gerry accommodated the swelling cock amongst the hidden folds of the boy's clothing. There seemed no holding back. And no reason to. Somewhere in his head an alarm flashed, but he rejected it. His cock head was tight against the boy's ass and Gerry found himself pushing slightly, leaning into the sensation, probing and swivelling, imagining what part of Toby's lower body he was contacting.

And Toby was hard too. Gerry felt the cock press into his torso, level with his navel. He felt affirmed. This was a mutual attraction. Toby wasn't repelled by him, but aroused. His own cock lengthened as he felt Toby shifting again in response, allowing Gerry to nestle comfortably beneath him.

"Mmmm Toby," he murmured, turning his head, dragging his lips across the boy's face.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby breathed raggedly, gasping now and then when he felt Gerry move beneath him. Fuck... that really was his cock down there, hard as a steel rod, now lying right along the cleft of his ass, seemingly deliberately.

But it wasn't just there, it was pushing. Pressing tightly against his ass. Toby was awed by this, knowing the guy could get fired for this at any moment, should someone happen to walk by. Was his skinny ass actually worth that kind of risk?

People had made some odd attempts at him before, most recently his mom's one-night stand who had grabbed his junk in the kitchen and told him his mouth was good for blowjobbing, but stuff like that, people like that, were always creepy as hell. Why was this different? Gerry didn't seem like a creep or some kind of threat, despite the hardness now grinding a little against him. He just seemed like a man in need. A man who had become incredibly vulnerable out of nowhere, and by coincidence ended up here with Toby.

He tried to reciprocate a little, pressing the bulge of his cock deliberately against whatever part of the man was in front of it - his lower abdomen. It was stupid, Toby worried. Obviously he didn't intend to fuck anyone's bellybutton, but damn, it felt good to push his erection against a warm body. There was a sense of connectedness that called to him, not only crass physical gratification.

Gerry's mouth. Toby felt the lips and slightly coarse beard drag across his cheek. Oh fuck - were they gonna kiss? Was Toby up for this?

Mmmm, Toby.

Gerry, practically purring his name. Toby's cock throbbed, and he thought Gerry's did too.

Feeling a warm breath next to his lips, Toby stilled, mouth slightly open.

Some part of him told him it was a trap. If this was a trap, and he fell for it, he'd be the one getting in trouble. He didn't want this to stop, but still didn't quite trust it. He just remained there, waiting, hoping for Gerry to make the next move.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry felt Toby responding by pressing his cock into his torso. At the same time Gerry's cock felt like it was going to burst from his trousers, housed neatly in the cleft of the kid's ass. The boy's soft, downy face tasted of soap and sweat as Gerry traced a path towards Toby's mouth. Was it appropriate to kiss a student? Of course not, you stupid fuck. But could he stop?

And then Gerry felt Toby recoil. Nothing sudden or intense. Just the faintest holding back, a pause as if something was saying to Gerry 'hold on'. 'Think again'. Jesus, Gerry thought. Jesus, fucking Jesus. I'm sitting here in the guidance counsellor's office holding a kid on my lap, near hard enough to lift him into the air and wanting what? To kiss an 18 year old male in my care. To lock my mouth onto his, push my tongue between his lips, feel him from the inside. And then what? Fuck him? Stand up, walk him over to the gym mat and fuck him? On the floor of my workplace? Jesus Christ! Am I mad?

Gerry found himself reciting in his head his defence if and when he was caught. It wouldn't be the first time a guidance counsellor at a city school had gone down this path. And every time it happened Gerry thought 'you stupid fuck'. Yet here he was clutching a student to his chest, hot with passion and hard with lust, and thinking about the excuses he might offer.

And did he want to stop? Toby wasn't protesting. The kid hadn't pushed him away. He hadn't said 'no'. Toby was as hard as Gerry if the cock pressing into his stomach was anything to go by. It felt natural. Real. Warm and....warm and what? Consensual. Mutual. That was the word. Did he want to stop? No fucking way.

So why did he feel any doubt? Why, you stupid fuck, Gerry, why? When I want to kiss him. I want to feel his mouth against mine. I want to taste his lips. I want to tell him how I feel, then undress him, hold my hands on his warm soft skin, run my fingers through his hair, find his cock, feel the shaft and the head, kiss his cock and be kissed in return, and then lie down with him on the gym mat and.....

Gerry moved his head a little in the opposite direction. He sensed Toby relaxing as he retreated away from the mouth across the cheek. Over Toby's shoulder, Gerry could see the gym mat, still unfurled where he'd already watched Toby sleeping, watched him twitch and turn. And where in his mind's eye the two of them were lying down and undressing and touching and kissing and exploring each other. He only had to speak, tell Toby how he felt, take control, lead the boy a foot or two to the mat, lying there on the floor, inviting him to take advantage...

But that was the nub. Taking advantage. Toby wasn't his equal, but his charge. If I take advantage, Gerry thought, it's a one way street. I"ll cross the rubicon and take what I want, but what then? I take him home? I send him away? I come to work tomorrow like nothing has happened, except I'll have fucked a student, violated his trust, pushed him over some edge I don't even appreciate until it's too late. Fuck it. Fuck.

Gerry felt tears in his eyes again. Not from the resignation earlier. But from frustration. And fear. Toby was still perched on his lap, their faces together, their cocks erect. In anticipation? Or like warning signals? If only this was simpler, Gerry thought. If only I'd already fucked him and got it over with and not overthought it all like I always do. If only....

The man took a deep breath. He wanted to hold Toby close without end. Somehow they were both safe like this. While it lasted. Safe, but it couldn't last forever.

"Toby," Gerry said softly into the kid's cheek, feeling the warmth of his own breath wafting in the narrow space. "Toby, what do you want?"

 

[tamgreen]

Toby sighed. The older man just kept hesitating. Teasing. Now he was asking questions. What did he want? Fuck.

To be wanted.

If he spoke his answer aloud, he felt as if it would all be ruined. All of this would pop like a soap bubble.

He grunted and scrunched Gerry's beard in a curious fist. The breath on his cheek was nice, but the question lingered in the air like something outlined in flashing lights, not allowing him to focus on the sensations of this spontaneous embrace as he had a minute ago. The question demanded an answer.

"I want... I want... to know why you're sad," he breathed. "You still haven't answered me. And I want to know why... you're hard. Tell me. Tell me true things. Real things."

 

[ericrodman101]

"I want to know why you're sad," Toby said. "And why you're hard."

Gerry's heart broke. Toby was pulling at his beard. Gerry so wanted to kiss him, show him love, hold him forever. But was that what Toby wanted? No. Toby wanted Gerry to talk, to answer his questions. To tell him real things. Jesus!

The older man gulped, phlegm catching in his throat. He knew what Toby wanted and it wasn't some old guy hitting on him. What did Gerry know about gay sex anyway? He didn't even watch gay porn. And except for that one time in college when he and the Korean guy had...Gerry's mind wandered back. That was real at least. That time in college. Maybe he could talk about that to Toby.

But no. Toby was asking about life. Why was Gerry sad? Why was he hard? As Gerry suspected all along, Toby was a shy, inexperienced young guy without support, desperate to find someone, anyone, to respect him, show him he mattered, be there when he needed help. Guidance. That was Gerry's responsibility, to show Toby he respected him, not to take advantage.

Gerry pushed out his arms and created a little more distance between them.

"Climb off, Toby. Please. I'm sorry I'm hard. It's not right and I apologise. Climb off me and we can talk properly, and I'll try to answer all your questions."

 

[tamgreen]

In the teen's wide eyes for several extended, breathless moments was the intense need and vulnerability of a very small, very lost child.

Climb off.

He was somewhere he didn't belong, of course, and was being pushed away. It was only natural. Toby's expression finally shifted back to its accustomed angry petulance. This time, however, he wasn't mad at Gerry or at the world in general. He was massively pissed off with himself for crossing that insane line. Of course it wasn't right, but Metzler wasn't the one who needed to be apologizing.

Toby let go of him abruptly and stumbled back, bumping against the counsellor's desk. He then retreated into the nearest corner of the room, next to one of Gerry's filing cabinets, and curled up in a ball on the floor, keeping the bulge of his erection tucked within the safety of his bunched up legs. Not that he could have truly hidden his arousal anyway - Gerry certainly would have felt it, and now he knew a secret about Toby.

"I'm the one who did wrong," he muttered. "Not you. You were just sitting there. I'm the one who went and did something totally fucked up."

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry felt Toby disengage, stumbling backwards. He watched the kid cross the room, head down with confusion, or shame, trying to hide his erection as he curled up on the floor.

"No Toby, I did wrong. Not you. Jesus, I'm what? Thirty years older than you. No, more. I'm an experienced teacher in a position of authority. Nothing you've felt or done today is wrong."

Gerry crossed the room and stood next to Toby, then lowered himself until he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. His erection had subsided, which was the way of fifty year old plumbing, unlike Toby's which the kid was disguising between his legs. Gerry put his arm round Toby's shoulders, feeling the boy cringe.

"You haven't fucked up. There's nothing wrong with showing your feelings, your emotions, getting aroused. It's all normal."

Gerry's eyes burned into the young man beside him, willing the boy to look up into his face.

"You want me to tell you real things? Well, getting hard when you feel something for another person, or when you feel emotional is real. As real as being human gets. It's what you do about it that counts. Wanna talk about that?"

 

[tamgreen]

Toby shrank away from his touch at first, rankled by all the talk of emotions. He hadn't come in here to talk about his own feelings. He shook his head hard in answer to the counsellor's question. No, fuck no. He didn't want to talk about why his dick was hard or what he might want to do about it.

"I don't have any feelings," he lied indignantly, finally turning to look at the counsellor. He wanted to give Gerry a really serious glare, to prove his bullshit statement, but the moment he made eye contact with the man, his resolve crumbled.

Gerry still had traces of wetness around his eyes. Toby didn't know why seeing the man cry had had such an impact on him, but it was still setting him completely off balance. Something was tearing at his chest like a claw. Was it emotion? The fact that Gerry Metzler was working so hard at trying to help his ungrateful ass with his dumb feelings even now, when in some kind of obvious personal crisis, definitely did something to him. Something that was making his own eyes well up.

The only place to hide his face at a moment's notice was Gerry. Toby quickly leaned into him, pressing his face against the man's warm neck. Immediately that incredible sense of connection returned, and his arms wrapped around Gerry's middle. He shuddered as he held back a sob. What was happening to him?

"Tell me about you," he said into Gerry's shirt.

 

[ericrodman101]

"I don't have any feelings...."

Gerry sensed Toby tearing up again, just as the kid wrapped his arms around Gerry's waist.

"Tell me about you," Toby said, burying his face in Gerry's shirt.

So the kid didn't have any feelings. Gerry luxuriated in the closeness, the need. It was what he needed too. The guy who'd seemed so sanguine earlier about his wife cheating on him felt like someone else. Someone who didn't feel, didn't hurt, didn't need others, but just got through each day because it would be the same as one before and the one after. It wasn't always like that. Gerry had loved life once. Well, he loved it now. He knew he did. It just didn't love him back.

"About me...."

Gerry leaned against the wall and sighed.

"Where do I start?"

 

[tamgreen]

Toby squeezed closer to him, letting one of his legs slip into Gerry's lap. A little further, and he'd be right back where he was a minute ago. He held back, not wanting to be pushed away again.

"Start with why you were crying," he whispered. "Then... tell me... tell me why you're here with me. Like this. Touching. When... I know you could get in trouble for it."

He nuzzled against the older man's neck and breathed in the scent of him. His cock was throbbing. Fuck, what was it about this man?

 

[ericrodman101]

Toby lifted a leg into Gerry's lap. Jesus! The older man felt his cock stirring again.

"Why were you crying....?"

Why was I crying? Gerry coughed as if about to speak, then stopped. Why?

"Well....I was crying because..."

I am unhappy? Is that why? Unhappy with whom? Andrea? Toby? Life?

"...I am unhappy...with myself."

There. I've said it, Gerry thought. And it wasn't difficult because it was so simple. But why am I here with you, Toby? Because it makes me happy. That might be harder to say.

"With myself. When you get to my age, Toby, sometimes things happen which make you review your life and what you've done with it. Whether you've made the most of it, done things to make the people around you want to be with you, and you with them."

He felt the kid's breathing relax, warm and soft on his neck.

"It's not like you think about this all the time. Mostly, you have so much to do that you go through life like a robot. But then something happens which makes you stop and think. Like today....things...."

So that would be Andrea and Toby, Gerry thought. Toby and Andrea. One coming into his life while the other was probably going out of it.

"So I was crying because I am unhappy with some things, and happy with others," he said.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and leaning on the warm body next to him. It was taking a lot of resolve to concentrate on the man's words and not on his temptation to get a whole lot closer.

But even when he did focus on what Gerry was saying, he still wasn't sure any of it was connecting. It sounded like he just said he was crying because he had feelings about things, and wasn't that stating the obvious?

"That's not an answer," he muttered, disappointed. "You said things happened. That's what I want to know. What happened? Gerry... please. I want to know everything."

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry was surprised at the contrast between Toby's words and behaviour. Nothing the older guy said seemed to satisfy the kid's quest for answers to his questions, yet the more he expressed dissatisfaction, the more Toby seemed to hold tighter and snuggle closer. As much as Gerry felt he was letting Toby down by not being as honest as Toby wanted, he wasn't motivated to change his approach while ever Toby was inclined to stay put. Cuddling felt great. Gerry had let his emotions take control more than once today so for now he felt comfortable and relaxed, and resolved to enjoy the moment. Little enough else was going right for him.

But Toby wanted to know what happened. Everything. Was Gerry ready to tell him everything? Did Gerry even understand what everything was? Was he ready to acknowledge his own shortcomings in the whole sad and sorry affair? Where to start?

"Well...." he began, trying to construct his words honestly without causing Toby any more doubt. "Lots of things have happened. Not just today. I mean, life isn't a series of disconnected events as if each day can be separated from the one before and the one after."

He felt the boy stir, signalling he still wasn't getting this right.

"But today, Toby, I caught Andrea....with other men. And I thought I was OK with that, but when I got back here and you...you showed me you care...I realised Andrea made me unhappy."

 

[tamgreen]

Toby squeezed the man tighter, bunching his shirt in his fists, trembling. Was this what everyone felt when holding someone? And why did it feel so much better when Gerry told him awful, sad things? These and other questions surged through Toby's mind, though he knew he couldn't ask them of Gerry or anyone.

After maintaining the embrace for a minute or two, breathing heavily against the counsellor's neck, Toby finally lifted his head to bravely make eye contact with Gerry, even though his own eyes were glassy.

"Your wife," he whispered, his expression twisting with confusion and even pain. "She's whoring around with other men? Fuck. Bitch! My mom's always fucking around, but at least she's never been married."

He took Gerry's face between his hands, holding the man steady and studying his expression, looking for truth, trying to figure out why the man would ever even think he could be okay with what his wife had done. Gerry was a nice person - at least, Toby was now determined he wanted to believe this to be true of the guidance counsellor who gave him sandwiches and juice and let him sit here in his office with him after hours, clinging to him like a desperate weirdo. He needed to believe Gerry was good person, who didn't deserve that treatment.

"Do you cheat on her too?" he whispered.