Coworkers
Chapter 1: Tyler
"So, why do you want to join our team?" the young man who introduced himself as Tyler asked. Why did I want to join the team? Clearly for the competitive salary and extensive benefits. I laughed sarcastically inside.
How did I end up here? Sitting in a mall Starbucks having some guy who couldn't have been more than two years older than me ask me why I wanted to sell electronics, as if I was supposed to answer that selling overpriced computers was my life's passion. I was a recent college grad, unable to find work in my chosen field ("Communications" whatever the hell that was) and reduced to applying for retail jobs. I was supposed to have a cool job. Like a magazine editor or promotions manager. A career where I was expected to go out and manage a "brand." You know, something easy and overpaid.
I thought about telling Tyler that I wanted the job because it had been weeks since I left my house for anything social. I thought about telling Tyler I needed the job because it had been even more weeks since I could afford a decent meal. I really wanted to tell Tyler he had flawless lips that would look even better wrapped around my dick. His mouth was perfect with fluffy, full lips and shiny white teeth that would look at home in a toothpaste commercial. Everything about Tyler was perfect, actually. His scruff was somehow messy but precisely trimmed giving him that careful carelessness look. He had broad shoulders and thick biceps that narrowed into slender forearms. His alabaster skin was blemish free and when we first met I spotted a noticeable bulge. I also spotted a wedding ring, but that wasn't going to stop my imagination from running wild.
"I think the work this team does is incredible, bringing together people and relevant technologies to make life easier. I have the skills and the passion to be a part of that process and I would love to take this team's work to the next level." Standard interview bullshit. The manager sitting next to Tyler seemed impressed and Tyler flashed his dazzling smile. We talked a bit more about the job, the products, and our hobbies and interests. Eventually, the manager excused himself and left me alone with Tyler. My eyes roamed his body - the way his smile was a bit crooked, the way his messy brown hair seemed to go in a million directions, and the muscles in his forearm that jumped when he waved his hands.
It was hard to focus on what Tyler was saying but I tried to keep it together because I really needed this job. Eventually, our conversation wound down and Tyler told me that he'd be in contact later in the week. He flashed that smile (oh, that smile!) once more and shook my hand. He had a firm grip and I resisted making a joke about it, not wanting him to think I was a creep or something. Even though I kind of was. We parted ways and I turned to watch him walk away. His hipster skinny jeans hugged his legs tightly and from what I could see, he had somewhat of an ass. The prospect of getting to stare at Tyler made me actually want the job, at least in a way that was different than "I want this job because I have to eat."
I couldn't stop thinking about Tyler on my ride home, during lunch, or even that night when my friend Beth dropped by my apartment to tell me about her latest breakup. I wondered how long he'd been married, what his wife was like, what college he went to, if he was cut or uncut, whether he'd ever had his ass eaten out. You know, the normal things. Beth went on and on about her selfish ex-boyfriend and how she'd never be happy. I tried to be sympathetic and listen to her, but Beth was dumped at least twice a week and I just wasn't in the mood to lie to her tonight about finding a good man someday. I cut her off in the middle of her third rant about beauty standards and said, "You know I have another job interview in the morning and it's already midnight. I should really catch my shut eye." Shut eye? I always talked in cliches when I lied, but Beth didn't seem to pick up on it. She wished me luck on my nonexistent interview and promised (ugh) to call me the next day.
I considered, briefly, going to bed like a normal person but instead I grabbed my computer and opened Facebook. I searched for Tyler and found his profile, which was mercifully public. He seemed popular and well-liked. Lots of photos with friends and wall comments about previous adventures. I saw pictures of his wife, Kate, who I had to begrudgingly admit was quite beautiful. I clicked through about a dozen of his profile pictures before I found one that made me audibly gasp. It was Tyler, shirtless on the beach. His body was even more wonderful than I had imagined. He had strong shoulder muscles and firm biceps. His stomach was taut and he had lean abs, like a swimmer. His torso narrowed down, giving him a somewhat exaggerated V shape that I found incredibly sexy. As intrusive as I found the whole situation, seeing Tyler half-naked made my dick hard and I couldn't ignore it.
I reached down into my sweats and released my aching cock. I studied Tyler's body, his pink nipples, cut stomach, and of course the bulge in his board shorts. I imagined riding his cock and looking down at that beautiful torso and came in no time. Slightly ashamed at having jerked off to someone I kind-of knew, I closed my computer and went to clean myself off in the bathroom. Examining myself in the mirror I wondered why I was never able to keep a boyfriend. I was cute..ish. Six foot one, lean frame. My arms were cut, my stomach was flat but undeveloped and I had a respectable seven and a half inch cock. Years of riding my bike around the city gave me a round ass that I was most proud of. I had olive complexion that was mostly free of any blemishes or pimples. My dark, shiny hair was cut short and parted right - a haircut my stylist called "Young Hitler." I just know it looked good. I considered calling one of my many "buddies" to come over and give me a two hour confidence boost, but instead I finished cleaning up and went to sleep, still thinking about Tyler.
The next day I found myself sitting alone in a restaurant waiting for a plate of fried chicken, which was strange because I didn't even like fried chicken. My waiter must have passed me a hundred times, completely ignoring my requests for an update on my chicken. I looked around the restaurant and noted its swanky decor. The place, while clearly going for an upper-class vibe, was playing the strangest music, it was like a chiming sound of some sort-
It was at that point I realized I was dreaming and the music in the restaurant was my cell phone ringing. I fumbled through my nightstand, knocking over a cup of pens and several books before finding my phone.
"Hello?" I said, trying my best to sound awake. It was two in the afternoon after all.
"Hi, this is Tyler, did I wake you?"
"No, not at all, I was just reading." I said with a chuckle, trying to brush off his spot-on observation.
"Oh, well I'll be quick, just wanted to call and say Congrats! You got the job!"
Tyler sounded genuinely happy for me and I was filled with an indescribable joy because I would have money! And at least one cute boy to stare at. Tyler gave me some details about training and again congratulated me before hanging up. At that point, I should have focused on preparing for the job and making sure I brushed up on the latest technologies and such. Instead I went out and spent my last $20 on a haircut. I came home and trimmed my beard, plucked my eyebrows, put on some teeth whitening strips, and exfoliated my elbows and feet. It was my standard beauty regimen before going on a date. Except, I was doing it for Tyler. Who would be training me. I could have stopped to consider how ridiculous it was to doll myself up for a straight married man, but I was just so focused on Tyler and looking good for Tyler and the very, very remote possibility of being with Tyler that I didn't stop and think about the situation, really.
I spent about a week in training, mostly with Tyler, learning the ropes and meeting the team. I was happy to learn that there were plenty of cute men who worked at the store. Robbie, a blonde salesman who played basketball. Jonathan, a dark-haired technician with beautiful calves and strong arms. Jake, a shorter dark-skinned guy with a round bubble butt and a swish in his step. There were others in the store and others I would meet later. But in those first few days I was overwhelmed with a sense of opportunity. Not job opportunities, but opportunities for some great sex.
Tyler and I got to know each other really well during training. We seemed to like the same shows and movies and books. He was a bit of a digital artist and I had dabbled in drawing. We hung out during lunch and caught coffee together in the morning before starting work. By the end of my training week, we had already exchanged numbers, email, Facebooked each other, and made plans to grab a drink on Saturday night.
The work was easy enough and the managers and the rest of the team seemed nice enough. Mostly though, I was excited about Tyler. Especially for our "date" on Saturday night. I spent the afternoon before going through my regimen again. Plucking, flossing, cleaning, scrubbing. I wanted to be perfect for out first interaction outside work. I put on my favorite cologne and left to meet Tyler around 9. On my way, I worried that he would bring another coworker or even worse, his wife. I entered the bar and to my great delight, I found Tyler alone, working on a beer. I ordered four shots of tequila and offered him two.
"Whoa, there. You trying to kill me?" Tyler said, looking at me hesitantly.
"Come on, let's get this party going." I replied coyly.
Those four shots eventually turned into sixteen and Tyler and I spent the night getting to know each other even more. He talked about this wife (ugh) and I told him I was gay, which he had suspected. As most straight men do when in the presence of a gay man and under the influence of alcohol, Tyler asked me about gay sex.
"So you've like, sucked a dick. Isn't that weird!?" He asked, his eyes wide as if he couldn't imagine a man sucking on another man's penis.
I let out a loud laugh and said, "The opposite. It's one of the best feelings in the world."
Tyler smiled and shook his head. "I couldn't do it man. I couldn't do it."
"That's what you think." I thought to myself.
As the evening progressed we both stumbled our way towards a drunken stupor. After the bar closed, I invited Tyler to come over and sober up a bit before going home. I did, after all, live just a block away from the bar. He agreed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder for stability. That one block walk somehow took us fifteen minutes but we found our way to my apartment building and up the two flights of stairs. As I searched my pockets for my keys, Tyler asked, "Who lives here?" At that point I realized Tyler drunk enough where I could probably make a move. I hadn't had quite as much as he had to drink and I suddenly felt optimistic, scared, and nervous all at once.
I opened the door and gave him the tour of my small but quirky studio apartment. He sat down on my couch as I started to boil some water for tea.
"Your place is really nice" Tyler said, his words heavily slurred. I thanked him and told him most men like it. "You invite a lot of men up here?" he asked with a laugh.
"Well I am quite popular, you know. Being a champion cocksucker and all." I had taken a seat next to him on the couch. Tyler turned to look at me for a long moment and I wanted so badly to ask what he was thinking. Instead the moment was interrupted by the kettle letting me know the water was ready. I moved to the kitchen area and shut off the stove. As I turned to grab teabags from the cupboard, Tyler suddenly came up behind me. "What are you doing?" I asked. And then he looked at me again. And I did not wait to act. I leaned in slightly and he did, too. Our lips met and we kissed for a few glorious seconds. His lips were soft pillows and they were crashing against my own. On the inside I was screaming and I wanted more of him. I grabbed his hand and led him back to the couch, where he took a seat.
His breathing was ragged and his hands were shaking. The confidence and ease I could usually see in his face were gone; instead he looked at me with a mix of uncertainty and impatience. I crouched between his legs and ran my hands over his torso. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck" was my only thought. His abdomen was rock hard and if his dick wasn't harder, I could have spent the night admiring his flat stomach. I unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped his fly. His uneven hand landed on my shoulder and I paused. I looked him in the eye and smiled, doing my best to convey "You want to let me do this" without having to actually say anything. Talking would ruin the moment. And I couldn't risk ruining this, not now.
His hand left my shoulder and I let my hands run up his thighs and onto his bulge, massaging his erect member through the jeans. Tyler threw his head back, his chest heaved, and I heard a whimper escape his lips, barely audible. He lifted his hips and I slid off his jeans. His dick was raging and his cotton boxer-briefs could barely contain it. My mouth watered at the sight and my own hands started shaking at the opportunity before me. It had only been nine days, but I wanted Tyler more than I had wanted anyone in a long time.
I licked his cock through his briefs and saw the outline of his cut member. I wanted to savor the moment and take my time, but my head was spinning and I couldn't wait anymore. I grabbed the elastic band of his briefs and slid them down, tucking the band under Tyler's golf-sized balls. I took a moment to take in the sight before me. Tyler's dick was about as big or bigger than mine, at least four inches thick and curved slightly to the right. I was glad to see he was already leaking pre-cum. His thick member sat atop two fat, low-hanging balls. I massaged his pale cock with my right hand and ran my left hand up and down his torso. Tyler moaned and I took that as a sign I was doing all right.
I lowered my head and lightly licked the back of his dick head. I ran my tongue over his slit and down the right side and back up the left. I was desperate to show him I had technique. To show him what he was missing by choosing a wife who would never suck him off the way I could. I wrapped my mouth around the side of his cock and worked up, swallowing the head and then the shaft. I easily deep-throated him, which set him off.
"Oh, fuck!" he yelled. Over and over. "Fucking yes!"
I held his entire dick in my throat for about thirty seconds, humming and moaning around his shaft to give him extra sensation. I moved back up and kissed his head once more. I sucked down to his balls and took each one in my mouth, massaging them with my lips. His hand shot down to the back of my head and he held me down saying, "Yeah, suck my balls." I worked on them some more and tried to take both in my mouth, failing because they were so large. I kissed his shaft and took it back into my throat. I moved up and down quickly, shooting my tongue around his pole in a circle, again desperate to show him how much I could pleasure him.
Tyler's moans started to get more high pitched, his grip tightened on the back of my head, and his hips began gyrating. I knew what was coming but didn't want it to end. I tried to slow my sucking but he rocked his hips back and forth, fucking my face. I let him attack me and within minutes his balls were tightening and he was shouting. "I'm gonna cum. Are you gonna take it? Fuck I'm gonna-"
And before he could finish, his dick was exploding in my mouth, sending stream after stream of his warm cream in my mouth. I swallowed every last bit, reveling in how great he tasted. I licked his cock and balls clean and tucked him back inside his boxer briefs. He stood up and got dressed and I stood uneasily next to him. There was so much I wanted to say. So much I wanted him to say. Instead he just grabbed his jacket and left, slamming the door behind him.
______________________________________________________ Feedback is always appreciated. Oliver St. Croix oliverstcroix (at) gmail (dot) com