Imaging Meeting You Here
Copyright 2010 by Ernesto66. All persons, places, things and events mentioned within this file are fictional, and no inferences should be made regarding their relationship to reality by readers, regardless of how they are represented. The author is responsible for, but not liable for, errors in regard to continuity, geography, weather, the public record, contemporary events, hairstyles, language and his own bad judgment. This story includes descriptions of adult homosexual men in sexual situations. If you are not of legal age to read this, then don't. If you are of age but somehow offended by such material, what the fuck are you doing here?
This file is freely shared, and the author encourages its distribution, dependent on proper attribution to him and only him. The file remains his intellectual (!) property and its unattributed use anywhere outside its orginal forum will result in harsh words to the offending site's host, as if there's anything they'll do about it.
I gratefully thank, and dedicate this story to, authors online who have inspired me. Thanks as well to my husband David. With his love and support he greatly influences my work.
Contact the author at ernesto66inky@yahoo.com.
Imagine Meeting You Here
Jesus, it was five fifteen!
I was supposed to have been out the door forty-five minutes earlier, but my conscience wouldn't let me go. Dammit, I had plans, and fucking good ones. But, I also had a huge stack of papers to sort through still. Not to mention bills to sign, emails to send, calls to return-
But I know you don't give a shit about any of that.
All you need to know is that I was desperate to get out of the building right at that moment, and was coming up the stairwell when I heard the sound I dread most in the world. The phone in my office ringing after hours.
There was no one else it could be after five but my boss, Frank. And no other reason for him to be calling except to pile more work on my desk and keep me there until the sun went down that night.
That wasn't going to happen, not if I had any say in it.
But I knew that when my voicemail picked up and Frank guessed why, that he'd be stalking down the hall in a minute, to find me and keep me there by force if necessary.
I had to disappear, and quickly, but since my briefcase was in my office, I couldn't just run out and leave it behind.
So there were two choices: I could hide further up the stairs, or duck into another office- No, not an office. Crap. The only place open nearby was the restroom next door.
In hindsight, the third floor would have been safer, but then I might've gotten stuck up there all night, with no way of sneaking back past Frank.
The restroom... There were other staff still in the building, so it didn't necessarily have to be me behind that closed door when Frank arrived. It could just as easily be Joe, our business office intern, or Helen from Personnel...
I made my decision. The restroom it was.
I tiptoed up the last few stairs to my floor, turned the corner and- Almost walked into a closed door. Shit! But, wait. It shut itself all the time, thanks to people always leaving the window open. I couldn't knock, for fear of Frank hearing. In fact those were his big feet coming down the hall now, if I wasn't mistaken, so my time was getting shorter with every step.
I tried the knob, it turned (whew!), I slipped in as quietly as I could and flipped the lock. Then I shut my eyes and leaned back against the door to try and think how I was going to say "Occupied" like I was somebody different when he asked. Frank was almost there, but that wasn't the reason my heart leaped out of my chest when I looked up.
There was Joe standing at the toilet.
And it looked like I'd interrupted him, doing something... non-business related.
Now, let me take a second and describe this picture, so you can get a good clear idea what was going on in that restroom.
Joe is about six foot one, with a square jaw and a good-sized American Indian nose, brown eyes and dark hair done up in a short mohawk. The mohawk isn't a cultural thing, more like a fashion choice, since it's also tinted purple and green. He's an intern, like I said, so he doesn't have to dress up like the rest of us, and that day was no exception: work boots, jeans and a flannel shirt not completely tucked in at the waist.
Of course, the shirt/waist thing might have been caused by his pants being about six inches down his thighs while he masturbated, I don't know. I'm not judging.
Joe was surprised, to say the least, to see me in there with him. Although Frank's footsteps outside might have explained me being there, I don't think it made him any happier knowing why. He scowled at me and stuffed himself back into his jeans, which was something like a farmer putting the cows in the barn at dawn. Way too late.
There was a bang on the door behind me that shook it so hard my glasses almost fell off.
"Winters!" It was indeed my heavy-footed boss. "Are you in there?"
I looked at Joe, and using my eyes, silently asked for him to answer and tell Frank he was in here and not me. I put my hands up like I was praying or begging him to do this, which I suppose actually I was.
Joe, seeing the position my situation had put us in, got over his surprise quickly enough. He put a big smile on his face and casually turned toward me, and of course being human I had to look down and see what he might have missed tucking away. Only what I saw didn't make me happy.
He was waving his fist back and forth in front of his shirttail-covered crotch, the universal gesture for jerking off. When he saw he had my attention, then he moved his hand up to his mouth and made the same motion there, his tongue bulging in his cheek.
I wasn't a hundred percent sure, but I was pretty certain I knew what he was suggesting. Blow me. Or else.
In reply-
"Winters!" Frank was still there. So as quickly as I could I replied, pointing at Joe and then jerking myself off the same way, while imitating the look I imagined he'd been getting on his face in the restroom who knows how many times a day since we'd hired him. Message: That's not what we pay interns to do.
He calmly looked back at me and shrugged. Like I care. Then gestured at me, head to foot. Who's got more to lose here? His grin became a smirk as he put both hands behind his head and leaned back against the window sill, waiting.
"Winters! If you're in there, I've got thirty more names to add to that listserv, and we need an e-flyer for that party at Jillian's before you leave tonight. Are you in there?" The doorknob made a couple of quick rattles.
Well of course the one with the most to lose, including the rest of his goddamn evening, was obviously me. I mouthed the word Fine to Joe, as he grinned even bigger and made the okay symbol with his thumb and finger.
"Hey, Mr. Alvey," he called through the door. "It's Joe from the business office."
The Okay he was making turned into two fingers waving me over toward him. Great. I quietly pushed off the door and started slowly over. Believe it or not, what I'd just agreed to wouldn't have been my first choice of things to do that night either. What was I, a congressman? Interns weren't my thing.
"Oh, sorry, Joe." Frank sounded contrite, but still pissed - at me.
"You need in here, sir? I'm gonna be a little while I think," he said. I rolled my eyes. Not that long.
"No, no, I'm looking for Winters. Have you seen him lately?"
"Uhm, let me think," Joe replied. I was taking my time and only about halfway across the room by now. The two fingers reeling me in turned and pointed downward to the tile on the floor. My co-worker took hold of his open jeans by the belt buckle and strolled over to meet me in the middle of the restroom, still pointing down.
He mouthed the word Suck it at me and used his free hand to apply some pressure to my shoulder. I took a deep breath and sank to my knees. Well, there were worse things. Personnel was going to get an earful about how they picked our interns on Monday, though, that was for sure.
"I, uh, think I saw him about fifteen minutes ago, sir..." Joe spread his legs a little wider, to give me better access and to keep his pants from sliding down his legs any more. I worked myself in under him and took my glasses off to hook them over my collar.
"Great, now do you know where?" Frank sounded like a desperate Jack Bauer. The clock was ticking, and his chances of ever catching me were fading with every second he had to spend talking to this uncivilized half-breed. I remembered how he always joked about Joe in our meetings. What a tool.
Speaking of which. Now that he had me exactly where he wanted me, Joe decided it was time to unveil the goods.
He parted his shirttails with both hands and - for free - let me see what all the girls in the secretarial pool would each have shot their husbands to get a chance at. And do you know, in every single case it would definitely have been worth it.
In its flannel frame was one of the nicest cocks I've ever seen. Fat, brown and uncut, on top of two testicles the size of AAA eggs, and surrounded by silky black hairs. His foreskin was like the sleeve on a cashmere sweater I once owned, wrapped around something that looked like a ripe red plum.
I could barely hear Joe answer Frank for my mouth watering. "He was on the first floor, I think... Go down-" He caught my eye and repeated himself, with meaning, "Go down..."
I steadied myself by putting one hand on his bare ass (why wasn't I surprised I didn't feel any underwear back there?) and the other under his balls to cradle them out of his fly.
"...to the first floor and you'll catch him there, I bet."
I held my breath, not only to ready myself for what I was about to do, like a scuba diver, but also to see if Frank was going to buy Joe's story. To kill a little time, since I was there already, I stuck my tongue out and tickled the skin at the bottom of one big ball. I watched it tighten and felt my co-worker's hand come up beside my head.
Here we go, I thought.
Frank seemed convinced. "Okay, but if we miss each other and you see him again, tell Winters I want him in my office before five-thirty. Got that?"
"Oh- Ohhhhhhh, yes sir."
Imagine a long silent pause here where no one said anything. I mean, my mouth was full, but there was nothing stopping the two of them from talking. Only Joe's brain, searching for an excuse why he'd made that sound, and Frank's brain trying to figure out what the hell Joe could be doing in the bathroom to make him make a noise like that. Well, duh. Me.
"Are you all right, son?"
"I'll, uh, feel better here in a second, sir." I'd thought Not that long, before, and now only a second? I was actively reconsidering my earlier project timetable. This might take a while.
"I had lunch at Wendy's, you know how they are sometimes." Joe's palm came to rest against my cheek, and his fingers in the hair on the back of my neck. Once there, his hand pulled my head close, closer, closest...
To paradise, it felt like. In fact I kissed the sky. Ever hear the one about that Jimi Hendrix lyric no one understands?
If I could have started breathing through my ears just then I gladly would have, to stay down there a little longer. Longer being the operative word, ha ha. My tonsils were thanking me for the great show, but my tongue was complaining about a sudden overcrowding problem.
Which was when Frank gave us both the bad news.
"I'm, uh, sorry to hear that. Hope you feel better. I may wait in Winters' office for a minute, see if he comes back." Frank audibly started to move away from in front of the restroom and toward my office.
Next door.
I groaned, or I guess "moaned" is the better term, at the thought of that jackhole waiting for me when I got out of there. And how big was the fucking emergency if he had time to sit and wait for me?
What was I going to do? But then I thought, why should I decide alone?
My jaws were open wide but by closing them an inch or so - which believe me was the absolute limit - Joe volunteered to help me out.
"Ow! I mean, uh, I really do think you'll find him downstairs, sir." He not-so-lightly tapped me in the ear and I eased up on the tension. To encourage him further I made a superhuman effort, squeezing his ass and leaning forward into his crotch like the whore I am. Can be.
Well, yeah. Am.
I swallowed enough more of him that I think I felt his dick poke into one of my lungs.
He appreciated that. "Yeah, yeah... I'm positive he said he was going to the copier. That's it. Yeah, thaaaat's it." Joe's palm, or both palms I realized belatedly (my attention was so elsewhere), were guiding my head smoothly back and forth along the entire length of his dick, head to root.
Did I say I was in paradise, before? That sounds great, but I don't want to exaggerate. I was in paradise.
I picked up the pace to show my co-worker how very much I appreciated his help.
My tongue and tonsils, not to mention my lips, soft palate and uvula, were finally working together in concert. It felt like Beethoven's Fifth Symphony was blasting away in there, and you know how that ends.
Big finish! I was pretty sure that one way or the other there were going to be fireworks before it was all over.
For a second or two I didn't give a good shit if Frank stood outside the restroom for all eternity. The feel of that monster sliding in and out of my mouth more than made up for all the crap he'd put me through that week.
I didn't need to worry. Frank sounded completely grossed out and ready to leave. "You take care of your stomach, son. There's enough absenteeism at this company as it is. Look, I'll go back to my office-"
I suddenly gagged, like I'd swallowed a beer bottle maybe, so hard my eyes watered and my nose started running. Frank must have heard me. "I mean, you've got enough trouble in there-"
No, the one having trouble in there was me. Joe was whipping my head up and down on that thing like he was shaking a cocktail. Then my hand remembered it had two of his most sensitive possessions in its grasp, and twisted them both just slightly to make him slow the fuck down.
Turned out, he liked that. Joe took a happy gulp of air, which must have sounded to Frank like more internal distress.
"Okay, jeez, if you ever come out of there, just tell him I'm looking for him!" His footsteps grew fainter and I heard him - yes! - make a turn and go down the back steps. Now I could get-
Oh, hell, never mind.
As it happened, juggling Joe's balls wasn't just a turn-on, it was some kind of trigger. Like the trigger on a ship's cannon.
His testicles tightened up so much they popped out of reach, leaving me with just a handful of pubes. At the same time he used both hands to steer his cock as far into my face as it could possibly go. I was going to be burping the taste of that thing for a week.
Speaking of taste.
With my lips and nose buried deep in Joe's short hairs, I not only heard the groan coming, I could feel it start in his stomach and work its way out of him. The best I can describe it is: "Awwwwwmmmmmmgaaahhhhhhd..."
Which resulted in the sensitive tissue of my throat, bruised and battered, suddenly being flooded with something hot and soothing. Most of it, as far in the door as he was, went by unsampled. But I caught enough of it to be able to favorably compare it to a guava smoothie.
I gulped and gulped until the flow trickled off, but still Joe's hands wouldn't let go of my head. I gave him a pat on the ass and that seemed to bring him back to earth. He released me and I - reluctantly - did the same for him. Although my right hand didn't want to give over all the goods quite yet.
He looked down at me. "God damn, man," he half-whispered. "That was fucking excellent. You suck dick better than any of those chicks in the Business Office. You're even better than Doug in Security."
I smiled up at him and tried to accept the compliment and scrub my brain clean at the same time.
"You're-" I wiped my mouth with the back of my shirtsleeve. "You're the best intern we've ever had, and I've never seen you even touch a sheet of paper. Are you staying past the end of the semester? I'm gonna recommend you get a parking space, or something."
"Thanks." Joe hiked up his jeans, zipped and buckled, making me surrender his balls and ass out of sight where they belonged.
Boy was that going to make the days distracting, now that I had firsthand knowledge of them. In the back of my mind I was debating whether to keep that to myself, or use it to get a couple of free lunches out of the secretaries.
I stood up and retrieved my glasses from the collar of my shirt. Side by side the two of us smoothed out our wrinkles and prepared to rejoin the world.
"Hey-" Joe tapped my arm to get my attention. "You know, all you had to do if he caught you in here was admit you were hiding from him. You didn't have to go down on me." He checked his mohawk in the mirror and tucked the last of his shirt in. "Not that I'm complaining."
I glanced down at his waistband and sighed, hoping someday I'd have the chance to pull it down again and try something from every part of his menu, not just the appetizers. Filling as they were.
"Well," I said, shooting my cuffs, "I know that. You didn't have to give me the choice, but you did. Why turn down an opportunity like that, when it's served to you on a porcelain platter?"
He seemed to think that over a second, then shrugged. "Okay," he agreed. "But Mr. Alvey'll still need you to do all that work when you leave. Was it worth it to put you twenty minutes behind?"
I answered him by taking my wallet out and peeling a fifty dollar bill out of it. I held it face up toward him, then folded it into quarters and tucked it all the way to the bottom of his very warm jeans pocket. Mmm.
"It will be, when you come down the hall in sixty seconds and tell me the vice-president wants to talk to me right away. I'm junior here, but the VP asks me for favors all the time. Frank hates him, and won't check up, so I can just leave and finally get on with my weekend."
My tie was a little askew so I straightened it and then reached around to unlock the restroom door. "Which begins with dinner at my friend's. That was your invitation, by the way, that I just gave you. Don't change clothes, and don't brush your teeth or wash up. In fact if you've got anything dirtier with you, put it on. And meet me out back in five minutes."
I opened the door and stepped into the hall, looking back once to see if he might be weighing my offer.
And do you know, he was.