I was sitting in my office poring over the layout for next month's magazine when Adam strolled in. Even though I reported directly to him, it was rare for him to show up in my office. It was good to see him, though. After he started dating Michael, I never saw him outside of work; and before my promotion, I saw him in the office once a month, at most. I missed his friendship. I missed those beautiful green eyes. I missed everything.
"Hello Adam. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"Oh, I was just passing through and thought I'd stop by and say hi."
In all the years we've worked together, I've never know Adam to just pass through. Every minute of his day was scheduled and accounted for. If he visited you, it was for a reason.
"Well, that was very nice of you."
"Not really," he said, sitting down in front of my desk and crossing his legs. "My reasons are pretty selfish actually. You know tomorrow would have been our anniversary."
"Oh yeah, that's right. I'd almost forgotten." Actually, I'd written the occasion in my calendar every year since we broke up.
"I hadn't," he admitted. "I remember it every year."
Shit! I felt like such a fucking heel.
"Despite everything that's happened between us, I still care about you."
"I still care about you too, Adam, but you made it perfectly clear that you were ready to move on with your life. You stopped calling, you stopped hanging out... what I was supposed to do?"
"John Paul... there were circumstances..."
"Ah yes... circumstances. How is Michael by the way?"
Adam grew very quiet and sullen. Perhaps I'd taken it too far with the whole Michael comment. Rumor had it that they were on the outs and, knowing Adam, he probably wasn't taking it very well. He's always been a very committed lover. Even during our breakup, he did everything in his power to keep us together. It just wasn't our time.
"I'm sorry... that was out of line."
"Maybe, but you're right. Michael's possessiveness has driven a wedge between me and all of my friends. I was just blinded by..."
"Love?"
Adam just smirked then stood up. "I'll see you around John Paul."
"See ya, Adam... happy anniversary."
"Yeah... happy anniversary."
Adam turned and walked out of my office. How he made my heart ache. I took a few minutes to compose myself before returning to the task of finalizing the photo layouts.
What a mess! I realized why Larry worked me so hard; the other photographers weren't worth shit. Out of 200 pictures, only 30 of them were worth putting in; we needed 50. I was going to have to be creative. It took me all afternoon, but I got it done... just in time. By then, I was mentally and physically exhausted. I submitted the work then decided to take the rest of the day off. I just wanted to go home, take a nice, long, hot shower, crawl into bed and sleep for the next twelve hours. I mumbled "good night" to Jake and made a beeline for the elevators.
"God, could these elevators be any slower?" I grumbled.
We worked in an old converted warehouse and everything in the building was brand new, except the elevators. They were the original elevators that came with the building some 75 years ago; they were old, cranky, and slow. It didn't take quite as long to respond that day as it usually did - five, maybe six minutes - a benefit to leaving before everyone else swarmed to the four overworked lifts. It was also nice to not have to squeeze into the car; I only had to share it with one other person.
His name was Virgil, I thought, although at the time I couldn't be sure. He was one of the IT folks - that much, I knew. I remembered seeing him a few times but, like most of the techies, he didn't get off the eighth floor very much.
"Hey, what's up?" I said as a rule of etiquette.
"Hi," he replied.
It wasn't the warmest response, but at least he spoke. I pressed the button for the lobby and waited for the familiar scraping of the doors as they closed and the loud clink-clank of the gears. Something was wrong. The clinks were out of rhythm with the clanks and there was an extra sound. It was supposed to be clink-clink-clink- clank, not clink-clank-clank-CLUNK. The car lowered a floor or two, jerked a few times, then stopped altogether. "Not good," I thought.
I pressed the lobby a button a few times - no response. Virgil pressed a few other buttons - nothing. We weren't budging.
"We're stuck," he said, almost in a whisper.
"No shit, Sherlock," I thought.
"What do we do now?" he asked.
"See if the emergency phone works," I suggested.
He opened the creaky metal door and pulled out bright red receiver. He pushed a button and held the phone to his ear.
"It's ringing," he said. A few minutes later, he started talking into the phone. "Yes, we're stuck in one of the elevators in the Winthorpe building... Elevator 4... there are two of us... uh huh... uh huh... okay, thanks!"
He hung up the phone and sighed.
"Well? What did they say?"
"They said they'll send someone out right away but it may take a couple of hours."
"A couple of hours?!?" I banged my head against wall. "So much for going home early," I said, slumping into the corner.
Virgil slumped into the opposite corner and sighed. He looked a little pale and clammy, like he was about to hurl or pass out.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm just a little claustrophobic," he said. His head started to wobble and his eyes got droopy.
"Hey buddy, don't pass out on me," I said calming, trying not to panic him. He started to wheeze and was sweating profusely.
I rushed to his side and told him to lie down. I helped him prop his legs up and loosened his shirt and tie. He started breathing normally and the color returned to his face. I grabbed a handkerchief out of my briefcase and wiped his face and neck.
"Everything's going to be okay," I said, patting his forehead dry.
"Thanks," he whispered.
I removed his thick, horn-rimmed glasses and put them in his shirt pocket, next to his pocket protector full of pens. He looked up at me and smiled. I smiled back and continued to wipe the sweat from neck and chest. His skin was the color of alabaster; I swear I'd never seen anyone so pale before. I wondered if he ever got out in the sun. Tiny brown freckles peppered his creamy white skin - most people would find them ugly, but I thought they were cute. I thought HE was cute. I'd always found something captivating about him - the few times that we'd passed in the halls. Was it his pouty red lips and pale green eyes, or was it his slightly disheveled mousy brown hair that I found attractive? Maybe it was something about his unassuming attitude - the expression of low self-importance that he projected - that made me want to hold him and love him. Even as I hovered over him, wiping his brow, I had a sudden uncontrollable urge to kiss him softly on the lips.
"How're you feeling?" I asked.
"Better. Thank you."
"Think you can sit up?"
He nodded his head. I propped him up in the corner of the elevator and sat down facing him. "My name's John Paul, by the way."
"Virgil... Virgil McAllister," he said. "I know who you are. Everybody in this building knows you."
I never really paid much attention to my celebrity status - fame can be so fleeting. "You work up in IT, don't you?"
"Yeah, I'm a network engineer," he stated proudly - not that I really understood what that entailed.
"Sounds exciting... very complicated too, I'd imagine. I'm doing well if I can turn on my PC in the morning without incident."
"It's not that complicated and it's certainly not exciting - not in comparison to some of the stuff that you do. I'd love to be able to travel all over the world, see new things, and meet new people."
"It's been an enriching experience, but it's not as glamorous as it seems. I've had a condo for 10 years and I'm just getting around to moving into it. I'm 30... ish... and I don't have a steady lover because I haven't stayed anywhere long enough to try to make something work. If I had it to do over again, I'd probably settle for a nice, quiet desk job like yours."
"Oh," he said, considering what I'd told him. "Is that what happened between you and Elliott?"
I flinched when he mentioned Elliott's name. That situation was still fresh in my mind and it still stung like hell. It was the second time that day that I had to face how fucked up my love life was.
"I'm sorry... I shouldn't have asked you something so personal. It's just that you seem so easy to talk to... I forgot myself."
"No, it's okay. If you don't mind, though, I'd rather not talk about it."
"Sure... we can talk about something else."
He was silent for a minute and I'd grown sullen and contemplative. "How'd you know about me and Elliott, anyway? I thought we did a pretty good job at keeping our relationship out of the office news."
"You did, but... I could tell by the way he acted around you. He seemed very... clingy."
It would have been very easy for me to bad-mouth Elliott, but that wouldn't have been fair. "Our relationship was very complicated," I answered vaguely and our conversation came to an abrupt end.
It was getting really stuffy in the elevator. Virgil seemed comfortable, but I was roasting in my long sleeve oxford. I opened the first three buttons thinking that that would help. It did, but not quite enough. So I opened the rest of the buttons - as far as I could without pulling my shirttail out - and let my shirt fall open. "That's better," I thought as I wiped the sweat from my chest and stomach.
I could feel Virgil's eyes watching me. His eyes slowly skimmed over my body, unaware that I was watching him eyeing me. The combination of heat and his lustful stare was making me horny. I got flushed with excitement; my skin got hot and tingly and my nipples started to swell of their own accord. Virgil noticed the effect he was having on me, although I'm not sure he was aware that he was the cause. I reached up and rubbed my nipple. It sent a jolt of electricity through my body and I couldn't help but shiver. I closed my eyes and continued to rub my tit, knowing that Virgil was watching and enjoying.
Then I felt something hot and wet brush over my fingers. Virgil's tongue swirled around, trying to vie for sole possession of my sensitive tit. I had no intention of standing in his way, so I removed my finger and let him take over. His mouth clamped onto my breast and sucked on my tiny brown nub. His tongue twisted and twirled about wildly, flicking roughly over my tender areola. Goosebumps popped up all over my chest from the sensation. Virgil grabbed my other breast, pulled it to his mouth, and latched onto my other nipple. He alternated from one tit to the other, swabbing them with his hot, slimy tongue.
I pulled his lips off of my chest and pulled his lips to mine. The kiss was clumsy at first - perhaps it was the first time he'd ever kissed anyone in that fashion - but he caught on quick. Soon our tongues were locked in a fierce struggle for control - a battle I was quickly losing to Virgil's unbridled passion.
He wrenched his lips away from mine and we both sat there panting and staring at each other.
"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he said. "You don't know how many times I've brushed by you in the hall or stood next to you in the elevator and fantasized about how it would feel to kiss you... just once... just like that."
"Was it everything you imagined it would be?"
"And more." He drew me into another kiss. This time he knew exactly what to do.
I felt his hand resting on my knee then slowly creeping up my thigh until it came to rest firmly on my crotch. My dick was rock hard and had snaked down my left leg. Virgil pressed it against my thigh and stroked it with the palm of his hand. I gasped at his boldness and at the way it made me feel, but he never let my lips stray too far from his. I was leaking heavily in my shorts - something that I didn't do a lot of - I could feel it trickling down my leg.
Virgil eagerly unzipped my pants and reached in for my cock. He broke off our kiss to see what he'd fished out of my boxers. His eyes widened in amazement at the piece of meat sticking out of my fly, throbbing and pulsing in his head, and spitting out a steady flow of pre-cum.
"I've never sucked anything that big before," he murmured, slowly stroking my gooey prick.
"Unh... you don't have to suck it... just... unh... keep doing what you're doing."
"But I want to," he insisted. "I have to."
I tilted to the side to get a closer look. After careful consideration and adoration, Virgil's lips slowly parted and engulfed my cock. I felt the incredible suction on my tip, causing it to swell to painful dimensions. Pre-cum flowed through my dick in a steady stream that emptied out into his waiting mouth. He drank it down then came back for more. I saw him trying to take more of my dripping pole into his mouth but he was sitting at an awkward angle that prevented him from taking more than an inch or two. That would never do.
I pulled his head from my lap and told him to sit up. I got up on my knees and waddled over to him. My dick tapped his lips, demanding reentry. The eager technician parted his lips once again and let my thick cock invade his tiny mouth. And I do mean tiny. His jaw was almost unhinged and I could still feel his teeth lightly raking across my pole. A few teeth never hurt anyone especially when it meant sliding into a hot, tight mouth like Virgil's.
I tried to slip into his throat but, apparently, deepthroating wasn't part of his sexual repertoire, so I settled for letting him feast on half of my schlong. He did that very well. He sucked and polished my pole like a nasty little cocksucker is supposed to. With my cock in his chops, there wasn't room for much else - including spit, which leaked out of the sides of his mouth and down his chin.
He stroked the neglected half of my shaft in his fist, pumping out an ample supply of my dick juice for him to gulp down. His grip was strong - perhaps from hours of masturbating to fantasies of me - so that every inch of my cock was tightly wrapped in something.
"Tell me something Virgil," I said between moans. "Did I get to fuck you in your fantasies?"
He popped my cock out of his mouth and wiped his mouth. He looked at my spit-covered cock then up at me and said, "I don't know... I could never get past the kiss."
"Well, we're definitely beyond the kissing stage; why stop here?"
"I don't know... I mean, I like getting fucked, but my boyfriend's dick is anywhere near as big as yours."
Boyfriend? Aw shit!! I had unwittingly broken my first cardinal rule: Never fuck a dude with a boyfriend/husband. I couldn't be mad - I didn't ask and he didn't tell - and I'd already broken the rule, so it was pointless to stop now. I did what any red-blooded, stiff-dicked, horny boy would do...
"I'll be gentle." I yanked off his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt before he had a chance to protest. Once my hands started caressing his scrawny white chest, all his resistance was gone. I pinched his eraser-sized tits and watched him squirm in delight. He fumbled with his belt and zipper, trying to get his pants off as quickly as possible. I continued to work his nipples between my fingers. He finally managed to get his pants off and his white Fruit of the Looms shortly followed.
I was surprised by the size of the organ jutting out from his mass of dark brown pubes. It was a good seven inches and very thick; on his skinny frame it looked even bigger. I bent down and licked the pre-cum glazing off of his shiny red knob. I swallowed his cock down a few times - a feat I'm sure his boyfriend couldn't do - before repositioning myself between his legs so I could rim his ass.
He knew the drill. His legs immediately flew into the air, granting me access to his creamy asshole. Virgil's ass was coated in thick brown fur. I licked my way through the tangled mass of hair to his tiny brown pucker. One touch of my tongue and it instinctively opened up to me. Oh how I love an experienced and eager bottom.
Virgil moaned and cooed in ecstasy in response to the tongue bath his ass was receiving. I packed his hole with as much spit as possible to facilitate the entry of my horny cock. Virgil stroked his fat prick wildly, causing his fuzzy nuts to smack against my forehead. I slipped a couple of fingers into his ass, just to test the waters. He wasn't loose, but I could tell he'd had his fair share of fucks.
I rose back to my knees and lifted Virgil's knees to his chest. His dark anus opened up wide for my dripping dong. I placed my bloated head at his entrance and pushed. I popped through and slid all the way in to the root. It was a good fit.
"Aw fuck! I've never been so full before," he confessed. "I never imagined it'd feel so incredible!"
I knew I wouldn't last very long; Virgil's blowjob had done a number on me and I was ready to pop. I fucked him vigorously with long, steady strokes. His gushy ass hugged my invading cock, gripping it in velvety softness from tip to stern. Virgil was still beating his meat. His fist yanked and pulled at the loose skin around his cock; pre-cum dribbled all over his knuckles. My balls drew up against my body. Heeding their warning, I slowed down a bit so that I could savor every remaining second.
Virgil was the first to blow. I felt his ass clench down on my dick as the first strings of thick cum erupted from his throbbing cock - one gigantic blast after another all over his hairless chest and tummy. I thought he'd never stop. He was thoroughly coated in his own jism. Just as the last spurt bubbled forth and his overexerted dick flopped against his stomach, I blew my load. I held him tight and emptied my nuts deep into his rectum.
I pulled out of him and let his legs fall to the ground. We lay together - me on top of him - and tried to catch our breath. We wouldn't have long to bask in our post-coital glow because, a few seconds later, the elevator jerked to life and we were moving. Virgil and I scrambled to put our clothes back on. Even in that old elevator, we knew it wouldn't be long before he got to the lobby. Luckily, there weren't any unexpected stops along the way, and we were able to at least button all the buttons and zip all the zippers. Our clothes were in disarray, but at least we were dressed.
The elevator doors creaked open and we stepped out. There was a mob of people waiting for us in the lobby, all wanting to know how we were doing. We lost each other in the crowd and eventually went our separate ways.
The next day, while I was busy lining up photo shoots for my photographers, a message window popped up on my PC. It read: "Who would have thought being stuck in an elevator could be so fun? Thanks for the ride! -v."
A wicked grin spread across my face. I cleared the message, adjusted my cock, and went back to work.