This is Our Swamp, Sempai

John walked off the plane in California. Sweeping his fuckboy hair to the side, he walked through the airport. Keeping his head down, he walked to get his bags. Although he had smelled the smell of Starbucks pastries and Jamba Juice before, it was a new fresher smell. Like when the perfectly sculpted thirty-something year old bear you've been eyeing for the past hour finally takes notice and he takes your hand to the bathroom stall. It's overwhelming yet exciting and exhilarating.

Finally making it to California, John can be open about who he truly is. I mean, not like he could truly find anyone being as shy as he is, but now he does not have to hide it. Ever since he had messed up with Lizzy, he knew he could never love another woman, so he moved to men. He remembered the day that he had finally accepted it.

…

John had been hanging out with Jason in his basement, they were watching the newest episode of Tokyo Mew Mew, laughing as Ichigo had tripped awkwardly in front of Sempai. Yet, suddenly Jake barged in the back, his shirt and pants nowhere to be found.

Obviously high, Jacob ran up to Jason, "Jason I have a deep feeling in my loins, I need your Kosher Salami right now."

"Jacob, John is here right next to me, keep it quiet," Jason said in an embarrassed hushed tone.

"Let him join us, you know that he wants it," was Jacob's only response.

Sitting there awkwardly, John questioned what he was going to do, on one hand he could just leave and pretend he saw nothing, but as he looked over, he saw Jacob's own salami rising in his aero underwear. "Why not?" he finally exclaimed after a few moments.

After an hour of intense meat grinding, Jacob and John left through the back of Jason's mansion, their clothes bundled under their arms. John felt his cheerio stretched to a donut and could not feel any better about it.

…

Moving across to the conveyor belt through a crowd of hundreds of people, John tried to pull out his bags, but the one with his many sex toys had been way too heavy and he fell backwards onto the floor. Fearing that he would be trampled, he covered his head only to see a green hand reach down towards him to pick him up. John finally was on his feet, unscathed by the crowd. He looked up to the face of the person who had helped him only to see the big bright brown eyes of a person he could only describe as the man of his dreams. The man wore a potato sack tunic, a leather brown vest, and had great big green hands. His rod ears twitched slightly. John's mini corn dog stood up and he nearly exploded as the man introduced himself, "I'm Shre…"

Yet, the man could not finish his sentence as a wave of people pulled him away from John. Within a moment, John was left with only the succulent musk of swamp in his nose from the sexy beast he had just met.

…

"Shreem? Shreel? Shreen? What was his name?" John said to himself as he walked into his new dorm. His roommate was a Korean boy named Hung Dong. John really liked Hung Dong because he shared his love of Minecraft and math.

John did not know if he could trust Hung Dong with his love-at-first-sight so he took out his phone and called Ken, his actual best friend from high school. The phone rang a few times before what he thought was Ken answered the phone. Yet, all he could hear on the phone was the sound of someone punching a steak, it must have been hard work because Ken kept grunting and trying to get Kevin's attention. John was so proud of his friend for getting back into cooking, he was always good at tenderizing meat.

John hung up and sat down on his new Attack on Titan bed sheets, "Didn't know they cooked together, hm," he shrugged his shoulders and threw his head into his pillow. How could he ever find the love of his life if they just disappear at every turn. He decided that it was not worth the struggle right now. He's in college now and he needs to crack down on his studies if he wants to become an amazing programmer.

…

On the first day of class John decided that he was going to wear his favorite plaid button-down shirt, it was a bright purple, with black and red stripes criss-crossing the main lines. He buttoned every button, yet upon looking in the mirror he decided that he would undo one, show a little chest. Reaching into his drawer, he pulled out his favorite Tesla Stealth 100 Vape Mod and put it into the pocket of his cargo shorts, the mod bulging in his pockets just above his knees. He could not decide which pair of boat shoes to wear, brown or a lighter brown. He sat down on his bed for 5 minutes pondering the ramifications of both colors. He finally decided he would wear the lighter pair and order a new, even lighter pair this evening once he got back from class. Then, he took out his favorite gel and worked it into his hair, making sure to get every hair nice and slick. He used his brush to make a perfect arc with his hair. Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he took out his can of Axe and engulfed the room. After about 30 seconds of misting and an asthma attack by Hung Dong, he was happy with his smell and he walked to class, his backpack on one shoulder.

Arriving 20 minutes early to his Trig 1 class, John sat in the front row of the class of Mr. Theogre's class. A sign on Mr. Theogre's desk read "This is my swamp," the 'my' underlined twice. He sat down and pulled out his trapper-keeper and his Panama flag pencil box and aligned each one on his desk in a nice order with a new crisp sheet of white paper. He then sat perfectly still for 15 minutes until other students finally arrived to class. Then as the clock struck 9, John heard the door open to the side, yet he could not see the teacher walk in. But he could smell the familiar aroma of swamp ass. Before he could hide his face in shame, the beast of a man, Mr. Theogre, his attire now a formal business suit, a pair of circular spectacles upon his nose, placed a case upon his desk, removed his glasses and placed them upon the desk. "Good morning, class. Today we will be studying up on the mechanics of circumscribed triangles, or what I like to call, the many layers of an onion."

John kept his gaze low as to not connect eyes with the gentle giant from the airport and elicit a recognition between the two.

"So the first assignment will be the first chapter in your textbooks, I will teach the lesson now," announced Mr. Theogre.

Walking around the classroom, Mr. Theogre taught the students about the angles of a triangle. Every so often Mr. Theogre would look at John and give a little nod or wink. John would immediately look down at his slightly bulging crotch, like a bean under a napkin, and then at Mr. Theogre's, where his tight pants showed a defined imprint of his tropical swamp banana. John could hardly pay attention in class as he tried to remain concealed.

The bell rang and John sprinted from the room, refusing to make eye contact with Mr. Theogre. He didn't even bother to pick up the revised syllabus provided on the back table of the room. Running back to his dorm, John passed a group of pretentious popular kids and one noticed John's shoes and commented, "Oh you wear Docker's? Sperry are the cool brand, you poor nerd." The entire group roared in laughter as John hid his head in his books and ran back to his dorm.

Arriving back to the dorm, Hung Dong was choking the chicken that he happened to be in the process of skinning. "Ew Hung, do your Asian stuff in the bathroom please or put a sock on the door, at least," yelled John in disgust.

Pulling out his phone, he used both hands to hold it up to his face and once again tried to dial Ken. The phone once again rang a few times before being answered. But once again it seemed that Ken was cooking as he answered in an out of breath voice, "What?" before being interrupted by another voice in the distance yelling, "He'll call you back, he's filling the cannoli right now."

John hung up hearing the sounds of "yes, fill it with cream" and sat back down on the bed. I mean he was happy that Ken was cooking more, but we really needed to talk.

That night John could not think of his assignment, only of what his life could be with Mr. Theogre. Yet, he knew it could not be, Mr. Theogre is too old for him and is his teacher. John fell asleep on top of his sheets, the assignment close to his heart.

…

John slept through his alarm, unable to finish the assignment before class. He sprung, unable to ponder what color boat shoes that would match his orange plaid shirt. He ran to class only making it 9 minutes early to class. He sat down and waited for the other students.

Mr. Theogre entered the classroom and collected all of the assignments. So now I am going to read these while I play a fun video on scalene triangles. Mr. Theogre promptly sat down, turned on the flick, and got into the papers. John was nervous that Mr. Theogre would hate his assignment and lose any progress he had made with him.

When the movie had ended, Mr. Theogre handed back the assignments and couldn't look John in the eye as he handed back the half-complete paper. Written on the top of the paper in red ink was "See me after class!" And so John dreaded the thought of having to stay after class and face Mr. Theogre with such terrible work.

The bell rang and John just stayed in his chair. Mr. Theogre went to the back of the room without saying a word and closed the lector hall door. John heard the lock turn as Mr. Theogre began to speak, "So, it looks like you've been a very naughty student, Mr. Sanchez." John gulped in fear. His assignment had been so bad he may get kicked out of Stanford. He could not handle facing his mother and tell her that he had failed. But Mr. Theogre's intentions were a bit more insidious than John had imaged.

Standing in front of John's desk he slammed his hand on his stack of books, John's head shot up in fear. Their eyes only inches apart. Mr. Theogre pulled John to his feet, telling him that the ramifications of such poor work were dire, yet he could make up the grade with a little bit of punishment. Leaning John over the desk, Mr. Theogre pulled off his belt and began to spank John. Each strike made John let loose a slight yelp. Tears began to stream down his face. Yet, after a while John began to feel waves of pleasure with each smack. He even managed to whisper "harder."

"Shut up, donkey!" Mr. Theogre yelled back. Getting bored of the belt, Mr. Theogre pulled John to his feet, Mr. Theogre pulled John's hands behind his back and tied them with his tie. Pushing him onto the floor, Mr. Theogre went to his desk and rolled out a Costco sized bottle of lube. Shrek pulled down his pants before cracking open the barrel, revealing that he was indeed going commando, a black studded ring placed tightly at the base of his trunk.

Out of the corner of his eyes, John took in the massive gift about to be bestowed upon him. His own twig now a fully erect under his own pants. But before he knew it, he felt two big strong hands undoing his own belt, and sliding his pants down. Mr. Theogre cupped his small package through his hanes before tearing them off his waist. John was now completely exposed to Mr. Theogre from the waist down. John's body quivered in anticipation for the complete the complete destruction of his maidenhead. Mr. Theogre took a handful of lube, stroking John's backdoor firmly. John let out a gasp as Mr. Theogre gently slid in one of his massive fingers, searching for the pleasure center. John gasped in pleasure as he was deflowered, every muscle in his body loosening, allowing unhindered entry.

After John's tension had been released, Mr. Theogre was finally ready to give John his cucumber. John could no longer control his volume and screamed in intense pleasure. Mr. Theogre's hairy body came into contact with John's skin. Their bodies now sweaty and constantly hitting together. The slapping sound arising from the room got louder and louder as their moans moved in sync. Finally, when Mr. Theogre had reached the point of no return, he pulled out his trunk and shot green swamp water upon John's face as John did the same upon the floor. Trembling weakly like a ravaged maiden, John asked, wiping a little from his mouth, "Do I have an A now, sir?"

"That'll do Donkey, that'll do."