+++Now you guys under 18, I know you are curious about how penises are lost, but you must leave. When you are over 18 the story will still be there and you can find out. Meanwhile, I know you have found your penis so don't complain to me.
Do you know the way to find a job easily? Sure, do what I did and regret it. You go to college and go on to a MBA at a good school, then apply for a job for which you are over qualified.
That's why I am at Schenk and Wallace CPAs. They were happy to get me. Do I do client's tax returns and travel to all those nice places? No! I am the backroom checker, the one who sees that the forms are correct.
Now some of our clients, the big ones, have tax returns that are fifty pages long. This is hellish work to check each item and the computations as well. I work in my own office. Sounds impressive? Not! It's small, windowless and most often hot. The AC doesn't seem to make it back here. Today I reached the end of my rope. It's tax season and I've been working twelve hour days. Finally I banged my hand on the computer keyboard, incidentally causing some damage to it, and shouted to the empty room: "I'd sell my soul for a better job!"
My phone rang. That is a rare occurrence as no one ever calls me. Of course the intercom buzzes a lot, "Wayne, come here." "Wayne, we have another return to check." "Wayne can you stay a little late tonight?"
I answered the phone. There was a pleasant, deep voice on the other end. "Wayne, my friend, I heard that you would consider another job and you offered a lot to obtain it."
"How did you know? What offer?"
"Your soul."
"Oh, that is just an expression, but I would give any thing for a better job."
"Hold that thought, I'll be there shortly."
The intercom buzzed immediately. "Walt, there is a young man to see you." And then an exaggerated confidential tone, "He's gorgeous."
After all this time they still get my name wrong. "It's Wayne. Okay,, send him in."
Now is the time for a side discussion with my readers. I am a suppressed gay man of twenty seven, although I still look like eighteen. I haven't had sex with someone else since I was fourteen. Of course, I have had sex with my favorite person, me. That aside may explain my reaction to my visitor.
He stood just inside the doorway and beamed at me with gleamingly white teeth. Seems everyone is doing that tooth whitening thing and they all look a little scary. I took him to be about my age. His hair was soot black and it was combed forward at his forehead, forming a point between his eyebrows. His features were handsome, but his body was outstanding, broad shoulders and lean waist. You could see the contours because he was wearing tight jeans and a muscle shirt. The pants and shirt were black. That contrasted with his pale skin, but the one item he was wearing was notable, his shiny red shoes.
"We mean at last Wayne. My oh my, you are a handsome lad."
I think I am, but no one seems to notice.
I held out my hand in greeting. He stood motionless. "I never touch my clients."
"That's fine. You know my name, may I know yours?"
"I have several names, all legal, not aliases. You can call me Nicolas, Nick for short."
"So Nick, to what do I own this pleasure."
"I am here to grant you the kind of life you wish."
"What would that be?" I said with an amused look on my face.
"The job you want, plenty of money and all the sex you can handle, for ten wonderful years."
I whistled. "Great! What happens after the ten years?" I was going along with this strange fellow.
"Don't worry about that, you'll merely contribute something. Meanwhile, if you agree, we can proceed."
"Is there something to sign?" I was laughing in spite of myself. This would make a great story when the guys get together.
"No, we seal the bargain with a blow job."
"What? I don't do that and besides I hardly know you." But I was definitely interested in this fox.
"No Wayne, I blow you. That's what takes the place of a contract."
Wow, I was getting a little stiff there. He had those kind of puffy lips I always admire. He closed the door and somehow made the glass opaque with a wave of his hand. He came toward me and leaned forward from the waist. With one pass of his hand, he opened my belt and fly and pulled my not unsubstantial cock out into the open.
He rumbled, "I shall enjoy this contract signing." Then he put that warm, almost hot mouth over about one third of my shaft. My eyes rolled up. I was immediately transported into an intense sex realm. To paraphrase the old Indian expression, he suckled gently, but with forked tongue, then he moved down swallowing the whole penis. My mind was whirling. I griped the edge of my desk to try to hold on to reality. Then he took my ball sac and swung it back and forth and intensified his sucking. I came; and I went. I mean I totally passed out.
When I came to the room was empty and the room was as before. My pants were decorously refastened, and my buzzer was ringing. "Mr. Gold," the receptionist's voice pronounced respectfully, I thought, and called me by my last name for the first time. "Mr. Wallace would like to see you in the pent house." Mr. Wallace of Schenk and Wallace. The big boss. I had never met him. He didn't meet lowly peons like me. I straightened my tie and put my jacket on and took the special elevator to the penthouse. When the door refused to open I realized I had to press the speaker. "Whose is there?" a female voice asked. "Wayne Gold for Mr. Wallace."
"Oh yes, you are expected. Press the red button on the left."
The door opened and waltz music rushed in. I walked with a waltz step to the reception desk. There resided a thin blond with an expression as if she had smelled something rotten. She waved toward an oak door in front of me.
I entered the inner sanctum.
I had expected a graying eminence and a severe room of modern furniture, instead this office was a playroom. At least it had a slot machine and a miniature gold course and other toys, not to mention a candy ball machine. Mr. Wallace was a short fellow with a chin beard and over that, an impish smile he could be a lawn ornament come to life. I had the crazy thought of grabbing him by the shirt and demanding the pot of gold. No need. He was offering me something better.
"Mr. Gold, we are not unmindful of the great service you have performed for this company. I received several letters from our upper management extolling your expertise."
I said stupidly, "I thought you are upper management."
He was annoyed by the interruption and his beard shook. "Yes, yes, I am, but this was from the upper upper group."
"Now I want to offer you an improvement in your employment. Your salary will be in six figures. You position will be a traveling emissary for our services. You will address groups." "But I am not a very good speaker and I don't have the clothes for..."
He waved my objections aside. "Today you will visit our tailors. They will fit you for a complete wardrobe for business and sport. Fine luggage is now being initialed and the company plane is fueled for your travel. Young Dudley Moran will accompany you and be your personal valet. He is also a talented speech writer. Oh, incidentally, I hope it doesn't bother you that he is a homosexual. Those handsome guys often are."
I assured him that I was very tolerant.
And so began a ten year stretch of fabulous dinners, accommodations at the finest hotels, visits to spas and baths to satisfy my sexual hunger. When not there, gorgeous Dudley was always at my service.
Tonight we are in London. I am aware that the ten years was up a day ago. Nothing had happened and I was encouraged. We had invited two of the bell boys to our suite and at present they were naked and in position to be fucked. It was a wonderful night.
I looked over the ass buffet in front of me. The boy on the right was a red head. I could see wispy red hair in his crack. Lovely. He was moaning slightly, impatient to be fucked.
The other kid was a darker Brazilian. He had a slim elegant ass and beautiful smooth coffee- with-cream complection. Who should I favor? Let's start with red. I slid in, he had been sweating from desire and I bottomed out as he howled in surprise and pleasure. I bucked a few rapid fucks. Oh shit, it felt so good. His canal seemed to have corrugated ridges inside that were massaging me to earlier a cum.
I switched to the slim coffee boy. His smooth pink ass hole was sucking air in desire. I put my cock just inside the entrance and wiggled it around hitting his hot button. He was moving like a Samba dancer and vocalizing.
Dear, pretty, blond Dudley decided to intensify my coming orgasm. He moved up behind and made soft caressing of my back. He petting down to my ass and when I stuck it out, he sank to his knees and began rimming me avidly. I was already at the cum stage, but I held on with my finger nails. Dudley sensed that I was needing that cum and he helped by slapping my ass cheeks smartly. I reared up, stiffed, preparatory to spewing, then it came. I shot more sperm that I ever remember before. I was growing weak from the contribution. Then came a deafening boom of thunder. Lightning followed, flash after flash lit the and through the twelve story window came my old friend Nick. I told him that frankly he was not welcome at all.
"I have one or two days more," I said, noting his long tail, that I had never seen before, swishing back and forth. He was not a good sight to look at and there was a smell of burnt sulfur in the air.
"No dear boy with my prize between his legs, you forgot that this is London time, not New York. You have somewhat overused my trophy but it'll do fine for my collection, now numbering twelve billion."
I was also annoyed that he had turned by two boys and Dudley into living statues.
"It's time to pay the viper," he said with a nasty laugh. I realized that he wasn't so cute as he seemed ten years ago.
"That's piper, time to pay the piper."
"Piper, viper, hand me your penis."
I had to laugh. Mr. Nick, it just isn't something that one can unhook. I'm afraid you are out of luck. Oh shit, that nasty laugh again and I felt some rummaging in my crotch. A moment later Nick had it and he was whirling it around like a cheer leader with a baton, saying "Oh goodie, one can always use an extra penis for those orgy occasions. "
I didn't think it was funny. "How am I supposed to piss>"
"You'll piss like a girl, sitting down. Just aim carefully and wipe yourself well."
He went into a long spasm of laughter and then stood on the window sill, preparatory to exiting. "Oh yes, your perks will be ended. I expect you will be able to claim your old job back." There was a puff of red smoke and he was gone.
Well I was determined to beat the old Mr. Beelzebub at his own game and the path to it was sitting right on the windowsill caught in the window lock. It was a red tail with a sort of arrow at the end. I ran to the window and freed it. It was warm and still living. My bell boys were awake and so was Dudley. Dudley had heard that all my perks were withdrawn and he was preparing to leave my employ. The bell boys, sensing that a large tip was not going to happen and they hastily got back in uniform. I signed, I would miss those high waisted bell boy pants that showed off their perky asses so invitingly.
I swished the tail back and forth thoughtfully. Then a rush of air and that burnt smell again and Nick was in the room. "Can't you use the elevator like everyone else?"
"I am not everyone else, and at the moment I am not a complete devil either. " He held out his hand to retrieve his bodily part.
"Oh no evil one, I plan to attach this tail in place of my stolen penis."
To my amazement he began to cry. A red devil crying is a sight to behold.
"Stop blubbering," I said. "Just make the trade."
So it was done and he disappeared through the window again. I packed and took turist class seat on the airplane. Back at the office the receptionist looked at me warily, "Can I help you?"
"Don't you remember me?"
"Oh yes, it's Will Silver."
"No Wayne Gold."
"Now I remember, there is a note here to tell you that your old office is ready for you and that there is a pile of tax returns to check."
I signed with resignation thinking that it is better to have been rich for a decade than never to have been rich at all.
End