Gift to Nifty Not suitable for under 18's Love the comments: Sam.willswill@mail.com Kik: Sammywillswill ************************
Part 44: Lycra
Post Santa visiting and Christmas Day there was still three weeks before I went back to college. Rather than just waste those three weeks Jeff seemed determined to set me up with some work. It was an odd time of year, that Christmas new year period but still a time of year where work existed.
For the three weeks I was off to a Law firm. From what I could gather to be the general dogsbody. Something below the Paralegals.
The trip to work would involve me cycling into the office. Jeff suggested a rather longer route than was strictly needed but I did it anyway arriving in my Lycra/spandex gear. I had two colours, one purple and the other green, skin tight that went to just above my knees and just above my elbows. My suit in a rucksack on my back.
The first day was meeting Mandy the PA to one of the partners. She was seriously cute and in her late 20s. I met her boss Mr Hunter. He was stocky but clearly gym built, a tight shaved head, a longish stubbly beard and immaculately dressed.
On the Tuesday to Thursday I'd got into a habit of arriving into work, sweaty, in my cycling gear and chatting to Mandy, flirtatiously before showering and getting into my pretty dull work.
But then Friday happened. I'd cycled in, got sweaty, perched on Mandy's desk and was asking her about her weekend. My purple Lycra clinging to my body. Then there was a bark from Mr Hunter "Sam, please, I need you to come and take a minute of this meeting please" other people were walking into his office.
I made a sort of protesting that I wasn't dressed shrug. But all I got back was "no time for that Sam, get in here".
I walked into an office of suited men. I was sweaty, in tight Lycra, I felt nasty. Mr Hunter threw me a yellow pad and pen "right, let's begin". The meeting started and lasted a couple of hours. I wrote notes like crazy desperate not to miss anything but feeling filthy, a few dirty glances coming in my direction.
As the meeting finished I stood, the smell of me lifting into my nostrils and no doubt the wider air. I turned to make a run for the door and no doubt the shower but Mr Hunter called "Sam, can I check those notes please before you leave the room thank you".
I was left for about five minutes. The dampness of my Lycra clinging to me as Mr Hunter spoke individually to people. For some reason my cock stirred slightly, worrying as I had no underwear on.
As the last conversation finished Mr Hunter walked over taking the pad away from me with force and started to go through my notes.
"Right, yes, this all seems satisfactory" he said in a patronising voice that just pissed me off. It somehow made me switch.
"Satisfactory?" I said with a tone of anger. "You've just had me in here, taking notes when you've got a PA. Don't deny it's because you wanted to smell me right?"
Mr Hunter nodded, his face dropped. I looked back and drooled into my left hand and smeared it all over his face "there you go, smell me all day can't you?"! He nodded.
I turned to walk out but he called "stop, look, I'll type the notes up ok? Now go and tell Mandy what you want drinks, cigars wise tonight and come to my penthouse. Don't tell her it's for you though. Be at mine for 8pm. Cycle, be sweaty"
I nodded and walked out and perched again on Mandy's desk. I came up with a stupid drinks order. Beers obviously but some serious whiskey and cigars.
With that done I decided that showering was kind of pointless. I was actually pretty turned on dressed like this. I emailed Mr Hunter still smell me' and I got a simple yes' reply.
Now, you may be confused. I'm a slut right? I'm clearly the one who takes. I'm that type of gay boy that never really gives. But, yes, also sex is diverse and sometimes even bottom boys like me sense more submissive tops. Guys that may give but frankly they're kinda nervous about it or they actually like a bottom lad that enjoys being in control. That was Mr Hunter.
At 8pm still in the same cycling gear I'd been in all day I arrived at the apartment building. I asked the concierge where to go and he instructed me go to a private lift. This took me straight to the Penthouse Mr Hunter lived in. The look was clinical. White tiled floor with a subtle sparkle, white furniture, a stainless steel kitchen and floor to ceiling windows showing off the city.
"Hello" I called to be met with a "grab a drink" reply.
I didn't grab just a drink, I grabbed a cigar too and started puffing smoke out into the air.
When Mr Hunter, first name Eric walked out he was in leather chaps, boots and jock. "Oh fuck, I honestly didn't think you'd come"
"Oh really, Jeff didn't really warn you what I'm like" I said sipping beer.
"Well he did say, but, I wasn't certain" his face lighting up.
I knew that in this moment I needed to be more authoritative than normal. "Oh, can you still smell me on your face" I asked. He nodded. "Hmm well come here and let me refresh it anyway" I spat into my hand and smeared his face up. "That's right!!" I said as I smeared it in.
There was something though that seemed nervous about him. Like he didn't do this very often. Like he was almost confused.
It was a tragic kind of a look of a man confused and almost uncomfortable in his own body. The psychological crash of being both a top and also submissive being something that he'd never fully dealt with.
To be honest it's something that straight people excel at. They work through those dynamics but it always seems more complex for guys. There are of course many gay men that excel at dealing with the math of being more top but submissive but maybe it's a kink world thing? Who knows?
It's at this moment I took the nervous Eric into his bedroom, got him onto his bed, delicately as I could pulled out his cock and blew him.
He did taste delicious, expensive shower gel I bet, he was quiet right until he shot and weirdly apologetic afterwards as I happily scooped up bits and ate them.
The rest of my internship passed without incident Eric was always nice and supportive and Mandy? Mandy is for another day.
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