Danish Lubes
By Michael Lanfranc
They say a good business deal is one where neither party gets shafted. I beg to differ.
Thomas had been my contact at our Danish fuel supplier for about eight months. I liked him; we talked on the phone and sometimes chatted about movies or football, but I never thought of him as more than a contact. It's a very conservative industry, if you know what I mean, and business doesn't usually mix with pleasure. Not my idea of pleasure, anyway. Then he came over to London for a sales visit, and I got to see a different side of him. Several sides in fact.
He'd obviously done a good job on the big clients in the shiny offices in the West End, because he had time to spend a full afternoon in our slightly tatty office out east. I like that: someone who doesn't neglect the smaller customer.
We had a good meeting: he promised to supply the newest additives at the same price as the old standard and I promised to give Jocelyn, the not-so-tame lesbian who runs our accounts department, a solid kick up the backside to make sure Thomas's invoices were paid on time. More importantly, we established that The Hunt was the best Danish movie in years and that Arsenal didn't have a hope against Bayern Munich.
I introduced him to the team and my boss. Rick was impressed. We'd got what we wanted and hadn't given anything away other than a promise to pay up on time, which is what we should have been doing anyway. But things dragged on because Rick likes the sound of his own voice, and eventually he suggested we retire to a nearby bar. Rick dragged Sandra, the office manager, along too, because he fancied her. She came because Rick was her boss but also because she fancied me. Of course I'd never encouraged her, without ever explaining exactly why nothing was going to happen.
Thomas was a real charmer. He had Rick laughing and Sandra blushing, and I couldn't help admiring him and even getting a bit turned on by his banter. Rick had to leave after a couple of drinks, but he left me with strict instructions to keep Thomas entertained. Sandra, seeing she had no chance to get me alone, took the hint and left too, leaving this gorgeous man in my hands, metaphorically speaking. Metaphorically for now, at least.
I bought us a couple more drinks and sat down. "You had Sandra eating out of the palm of your hand," I commented.
"She's nice," he acknowledged, "But not really my type." I felt a twinge in my pants, and felt I had to add that she wasn't my type either. Thomas gave me a look as if he knew exactly what I meant, and I found myself staring just a moment too long into those deep blue eyes. My stirrings were caused by more than gratitude about fuel additives.
Thomas said he needed the bathroom, giving my thigh a comradely slap as he got up. I spent the next two minutes uncomfortably shifting in my seat, willing my growing erection to behave itself and wishing I couldn't still feel his hand on my leg while at the same time wishing I could. His hand seemed to have branded itself on my flesh.
When he came back, I offered him another drink.
"Best not," he said. "Too much beer leaves me gassy, and I'm flying out tomorrow so I'd rather have a whisky back at the hotel. They've got a better selection there" He gave me that look again. "You look like you want something more. Why don't you join me?"
More stirrings. "I'd love to," I said, my mouth too dry to say much more. Picking up my jacket, I let it hang in front of my trousers to hide my obvious feelings as we walked to the door, a slap on my shoulder from Thomas only adding to my distress.
Any doubts I had vanished when we got to the hotel and Thomas headed for the lift. "Actually the bar's crap," he announced. "There's an even better choice in the minibar. Come on up." He knew -- he must have known -- and he wasn't playing around. He'd seen right through me and I was sure he wanted what I wanted. I didn't dare look at him in the lift but when we reached his floor a little tap on my elbow propelled me to his door like a turbo jet.
The room was huge. There was a separate, luxurious bathroom but my eyes were focused on the double bed, which looked wider than it was long. Someone was clearly paying his company too much, but I was starting to think Thomas had earned it.
He opened the minibar and poured two whiskies. "I need a stiff one," he grinned, chinked the glasses and raised his own to his lips, his eyes never leaving mine. I took a deeper slug than I should have and put my glass down unsteadily. "Maybe you shouldn't be standing up," he said, and pushed me backwards onto the bed. Before I could say anything he put his fingers to his lips. I didn't dare move as he took my shoes and socks off and undid my trousers but without removing them. Then he stepped back, pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.
I gave a little sigh at the sight of his trim body and smooth chest. It was everything I had hoped for and more. He picked up his whisky, drained it and then pointed at me. "Shirt. Trousers. Now." I needed no second telling. As I pulled my trousers and socks off, he did the same, but when I went to release my by-now raging cock he shook his head. "No, no," he smiled. "You can touch your nipples though. Just like you wanted to in the bar." As I ran my hands up my torso and rubbed my nipples with my thumbs, he stroked the substantial bulge in his underpants. I was so hard it hurt, but he wouldn't let me touch myself.
Finally, at last, he stepped forward and ran his hand over my imprisoned cock. I was twitching and jerking frantically, till finally he snapped off my last defence in one smooth movement. Well, maybe not that smooth, but smooth enough. My cock leapt out, sniffing the air, but it wasn't in the light for long.
Thomas looked at my bulge with a smile, "There was me thinking you were one of my smaller customers," and without waiting for a reply bent down and slowly wrapped his lips around my dripping cockhead. He must have guessed how close I was, because he released me and ran his tongue down my shaft, tickling my scrotum with the tip of his tongue before grabbing me behind the knees and laying my arse bare.
Spasms ran through me as he gave me the rimming of my life. I pulled my legs back as far as I good to give him the best access, and boy did he reward me. His tongue went round and round, darting in for a moment before resuming its teasing. My hand moved down touch my cock, frantically waving in the cool night air. Thomas looked up. "No." he commanded. "That's mine."
His finger replaced his tongue as he licked and kissed my shaft, and I felt at last what I'd wanted for hours: something penetrating my moistened hole. I wrapped my legs round his shoulders, loving the feel of his body against my skin as I submitted to pleasure. I gasped again as his tongue teased my tip, and he paused, with those deep blues looking at me. I was incoherent with lust.
"Please... Yes... No..."
"No?" Thomas almost smirked.
"I could come at any moment."
"Don't you want to?"
"More than anything, but I still want to be this horny when you fuck me."
"You want me to fuck you?" His tongue did another quick circuit of my cockhead while his finger gave my hole another jab.
"I bet even Rick wants you to fuck him. He just doesn't know it."
"But I'm not going to fuck Rick."
"No. You're going to fuck me." I'd hardly realised, but my fingers were squeezing and pulling at my own nipples like crazy by now. Thomas raised himself and again I felt the cool night air wafting around my shaft. His finger was slowly slipping out as he got up to stand beside the bed, but just as it was about to slip out he pushed it back in, adding a second finger for good measure. He stood for a moment, looking down on me, watching me abusing my nipples.
I knew what I had to do. I reached for his waistband and pulled downwards, glad to see he was almost as aroused as me. Domination be damned -- I leaped at his cock, barely pausing to savour the sharp odour of his uncut glory before gobbling him down to my tonsils.
"You want that cock?" I heard him murmur through my reverie.
"Gmff, mpff, mmm," I replied, which was as articulate as I needed to be right then. I didn't even hear him open the bedside drawer, but I heard the squirt and felt the cool familiarity of lube as his two fingers became three. I raised my knees to give him easier access, not wanting to interrupt this moment. I was loving this moment, but finally I felt him pull back so I reluctantly released him.
"Yes?" he said.
Yes. Oh yes. Yes.
"YES.".
And then he did it. Oh yes.
He came round, knelt between my legs and pushed my knees up. And I felt his cock against my back, sliding up towards my hole. As my knees touched my shoulders he was primed. I could feel him pressing against me, his hand holding his glans against my waiting hole. I looked up into his deep blue eyes and whispered,
"Now."
He dropped down, pressed his body against me while I pushed my muscle against him, trying to wrap my sphincter round his cock like a snake trying to swallow an egg. He gently pushed and I could feel myself stretching to accommodate him. And then he was there. Thomas gave a great sigh as his manhood slipped endlessly into my hole. And for one gorgeous moment he stopped. I lay back, totally his as he looked into my eyes, with his wonderful cock so far inside I could feel his balls against my cheeks. Then he chuckled, pulled halfway out then thrust deep inside.
I groaned as the momentary paid turned to a deep warmth. He held it deep inside and released my legs, so I wrapped them around his back, holding him close, tight and deep. There was only one thing to say and I said it.
"Fuck me. Fuck me till you come inside me."
"Don't think I won't," he grinned, and then he leaned down and kissed me, pinning me with his tongue and one and his cock at the other. Slowly, even gently, I felt him start to move inside me.
"Your hole is so tight," he grunted. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"
"No," I gasped. "It's good, really good, soooo gooood!" He thrust slowly and deeply, varying his rhythm and sending amazing sensations rippling through me. I was open to his every thrust and pushed him away slightly so he could fuck me harder and deeper. His panting suggested he was close.
"C'mon Thomas, take what you want. Take it. Take me. Fuck me. Fill me!" I could feel him building to his climax so I grabbed my cock and tried to bring myself off. Suddenly Thomas threw his head back with an animal growl as spasms wracked his body and a string of Danish obscenities ripped through the night. I felt him press as deep as he could as he shot his load inside me, before he collapsed on me with a groan, his sweaty chest pressed against mine and his slowing breath panting in my ear.
I eased my hand out from under him -- I hadn't come but it didn't seem to matter -- and gently rolled us onto our sides. He was already drifting off to sleep but grunted appreciatively as I ran my hand behind my buttocks and stroked his balls, feeling his slightly softening cock still inside me. Feeling that cock inside was amazing, even as it softened and oozed out. I slipped into sleep having been fucked better than I had been for months, luxuriating in the buzz between my cheeks.
When I woke up Thomas was gone -- or so I thought. As I lay on the pillow half dreaming, the bathroom door opened and Thomas appeared, naked as last night's vision. "Well hello," he smiled. He stood at the foot of the bed, watching me for a few moments. I rolled onto my back, just to get a better look at his sleek lines.
"You owe me," he said, and ripped the duvet away. He looked appreciatively as my swelling cock sprang up and sniffed the morning air. Thomas smiled and knelt on the bed. "This is for me," he lied, bending down and began kissing my shaft. The warm wetness perked me up and Thomas slipped his mouth over the head, sliding gently down until his nose was almost tickled by my hair. My hardening cock pressed against his throat and seemed to push his mouth off me. As he released me, he gave my cockhead an appreciative lick. "Good boy. You know the drill: don't move."
He turned around and let me watch as his gorgeous arse advanced towards my waiting cock. He let it brush up and down, front to back between his cheeks as I admired that perfect physique, yearning to be inside him and stroking his hips and flank.
As the tip of my cock caressed his hole I realised the cheeky sod had lubed himself in the bathroom. But as I tried to pull him down onto me, he had a change of heart. Turning around, he said, "I want to see your face when you fuck me." Again my shaft navigated his crevice while my hands stroked his thighs and flanks before settling on his nipples. He returned the favour with his left hand while his right reached around to guide me to his beauty spot.
We both gasped as he pushed himself down, his eyes locked on mine. I felt his muscle stretching as he sank onto my cock. Carefully he lifted himself and then eased himself down again. He didn't move much but just took long, slow strokes while his muscle milked me. It was too much. I grabbed his hips and thrust up as hard as I could, bucking into him as that shimmering feeling spread through my thighs, up my shaft and burst inside him.
As I lay gasping and trembling, Thomas bent forward and kissed me, putting his hands on my shoulders as he lifted himself off me and giving my cock a farewell squeeze. I was still in a daze as he closed the door.
"Same shirt. Get lucky last night?" asked Sandra when I reached the office.
"You could say that. Arranged a big consignment of Danish lubes." I didn't care if she got the joke.
~End~