Mr. Sims checks up on me - Sex Stories

Mr. Sims checks up on me

It's hard to say when I first noticed Mr. Sims in a sexual way. It might have been the time we went camping, our two families, and I saw him pissing in the forest. I remember thinking about it over and over again later on that night. Now that I'm in college I've seen my fair share of dicks, but none of them quite compared to Mr. Sims massive, uncut cock. I had just turned 19, and it was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college. I was alone at the house for a couple days because my parents were transporting some things to their new place out of state. Needless to say, I had thrown a bit of a party in their living room, and was in the midst of a deep, hungover midday nap when I heard the doorbell ring. I initially ignored it because I thought it was the UPS guy or something, but the bell came again and again. I was already halfway down the stairs by the time the third bell rang. I grabbed as many beers or roaches off the living room table that I could and threw them in the garbage. I hastily fixed my hair in the mirror, put in some eyedrops, and opened the door a crack. "Hey, David!" A familiar loud voice penetrated the silence. It was him. "Mr. Sims! How's it going?" I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster. I opened the door a bit wider now. He was a little older, his hair and beard were dusted with grey, but he was still something of a physical specimen. "I'm doing well, how 'bout you? Your parents asked me to come check up on you," he said, ...

... flashing me a wicked smile. 'What did he know?' I asked myself. I raced through my memories trying to recall whether or not there was any evidence that he might have seen walking up to the house. I came to rest on the thought that he probably didn't know anything and was fucking with me, like he always does. I opened the door wider, gesturing him inside. I felt confident at that point that there was nothing to hide. He sat down on the couch, and I asked him if I could bring him anything. "Beer, if you've got any" he said. I went into the garage and pulled out some random, shitty craft beer that my parents used to buy. I walked back into the living room to find him sparking up a roach that I had clearly forgotten to clean up. "What the fuck? You smoke?" I asked as though I'd caught him fucking my dog. "So do your parents. Quite a bit if I remember correctly," he said matter-of-factly. I rolled my eyes and gestured for him to pass me what remained of the joint as I sat down and passed him the beer. I turned on the T.V. and took a hit. I looked over at him, he had his arm raised up over the couch, and I could see down his shirt into his armpit. I could smell him from across the couch, and it was intoxicating. He had his legs spread apart, and was leaning back into the couch with a beer resting on his knee. I caught myself staring and went back to concentrating on my joint / beer combo. "So how's college been treating you?" he said suddenly, looking over at me with his dark hooded eyes. ...