The usual disclaimers apply. This story is gay erotica intended for male readers. If you are underage, delete this story unread or ask your parents for permission. You should be naked reading this story as well as the author and the described characters proudly are.
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In The Confessional
by Naked Justice
Chapter 3: Freelancer (MM, nudity)
Ralf and I held our jogging routine. Every Tuesday I cycled in the buff to Ralf's apartment. From there we jogged naked and barefoot about 45 minutes every day. If we had enough time left, he took me up to his apartment for some fucking or a 69. Then I cycled back home still nude where I showered.
On Thursdays it was the other way round. Ralf came to me by car; we went out and jogged naked. Finally we went to the shower, fucked, dressed in our suits (Ralf always brought one in his car) and went to our offices.
Friday evening was our "casual night" in The Confessional. Klaus insisted in his special entrance policy not allowing us to wear anything in his bar. He called the Friday nights officially clothing optional offering a beer for free to every naked guest. On Fridays, Klaus wore only a sock over his cock and nothing else. Usually, he closed the blinds at about midnight and had a private naked party then. Knowing how much I liked piss, he sometimes served me a glass of his piss instead of a beer.
Ralf usually went with me after our Friday night in The Confessional and we jogged on Saturday morning again. Usually we had sex after our shower and had breakfast together, of course without clothes, before he left.
One day in June, my father called me in my office.
"Hi Dad", I said.
"Hello David", he answered. "Aunt Greta has died."
That was information which would change a lot. Aunt Greta who now had died at the age of 85 wasn't really an aunt of mine. She was the elder sister of Uncle Herbert, my father's late brother in law. Aunt Greta had never married but made a large heritage of a friend of hers, years ago. When Aunt Greta had to move into a nursing home, it was Uncle Herbert who took care of her legal and financial matters – with my help. Uncle Herbert died two years ago by cancer and so my father had taken care of Greta since then. Aunt Greta didn't want any cousins of her to inherit whom she didn't know or at least hadn't seen for decades. And so she asked my father one day to call a notary for making her will. I knew that the testament installed me as her only heir. Some weeks ago, my father had told me that she still had more than 1,200,000 Euros on her account. I was wealthy now even considering the high inheritance tax I'd have to pay.
Suppose what a young lawyer of 28 who is fed up with his boss is doing after inheriting such an amount? I waited until the testament was opened and I got access to the bank account before I handed my notice to my boss. But in the meantime I had rented an office of my own downtown. By chance the office was nearby The Confessional, only across the street. It was on the top-level of a 5-level house with an underground garage.
So I started my career as self-employed lawyer on September 1st. I had announced in some local gay magazines and found a cute 21-year-old as clerk. Marc had just finished his apprenticeship as legal clerk. But unfortunately for him, his law firm wasn't very gay- friendly. He applied immediately when he saw my announcement in the gay gazette. He had piercing water-blue eyes, dark-blond shortcut hair and an intense suntan. At his job interview he wore extremely tight grey pants which didn't leave any doubts about the fact that he was well-hung and freeballing. He had left open the top five buttons of his white slim-fitted dress shirt revealing his nicely trimmed curly chest hair. After his interview no other candidate had a chance as no one was as cute as him, no one had better references and finally he agreed to work for a rather little salary. That's why Marc got the job.
The first day he came to work in about the same kind of clothing as to his job interview: an extremely tight light blue chino and a white translucent dress shirt with the top five buttons opened. I could even see his little nipple piercing rings. He asked me if it was okay that he wore these clothes. What a question: he could have worked naked without me complaining!
I answered: "Wear whatever you feel comfortable with. If for any reason there is need for a special dress code, I will give you notice."
I was very content with his first week's work. He was hard-working, charming, quick and accurate. I had nothing to complain except the fact that he looked too sexy for me to concentrate on my work.
I had been able to take some clients with me when I left the law firm. So I had enough to do. In fact, I had a lot of work. That's why I decided to go to the office the first Saturday of my newfound freedom after the jogging and breakfast with Ralf. Although it was beginning of September, it was very hot outside, about 32 °C and humid. And well, you know that I don't really like clothing. So I stripped off the little bit I had worn on my way to the office just when I went in – which were only shoes and shorts. As I had immediate access from my parking lot by elevator into the office, there had been absolutely no need for a shirt. I left shoes and shorts at the wardrobe and went naked into my room. I was so concentrated on my work that I didn't hear the door open. Suddenly, Marc was standing in front of me wearing tight white shorts – freeballing as always – and a red net-shirt which both matched perfectly with his suntan.
"Hi Marc", I greeted him. "What are you doing here? We have a 5-days-week. So it's your free day today."
"You gave me so many tapes to be typed by Monday that I decided to do them this morning", he said. And then he asked: "It's clothing optional today?"
I had totally forgotten that I was naked. So I apologized: "Well. It's hot today and I expected to stay alone here. But I can take something over."
"No problem", Marc replied. "Please don't. Does the casual-Saturday-rule apply for me, too?"
"Do as you feel comfortable", I said. „As I've told you Monday, wear whatever you feel comfortable in and if it's wearing nothing today, do so."
Immediately, Marc took off the transparent shirt and fully revealed his muscular chest and his little golden nipple-rings. Then he opened his pants and threw the zipper down. The shorts fell to his ankles. As I had supposed before, he was freeballing. He revealed his uncut cock of about 12 cm (5") soft, low hanging large balls and the fact that his pubes were totally shaved. He had no tan lines at all revealing that he always sunbathed in the nude. Marc bent over to take off his shoes and I saw that he had shaved his crack, too. Then he stepped out of the shoes and the pants. He tossed them into a corner and turned back to me smiling. Naked he looked even more like a Greek god than before.
"That's much more comfortable", he said. "So let's start working."
He went to his place and started typing the tapes I had dictated the days before. I could hardly concentrate on the folders I had to read through as I tried to catch a glimpse of this Adonis as often as possible. After about an hour, Marc came into my room carrying two mugs of coffee.
"It's coffee-time, boss", he said. He seemed totally uninhibited and comfortable with our nudity when he took a seat on the couch opposite my desk.
"Is it possible, that you like to show off?", I asked as he presented his jewelry to me.
"Why do you think that I went to the job interview almost bare-chested and freeballing in tight pants?", he replied. "I like today's casual office look."
I laughed.
"And I like seeing my sexy boss without clothes, too", Marc continued.
"Indeed", I said. "I also like the view of my undressed employee. And as you I also feel more comfortable naked."
"Undress for success", Marc murmured.
I laughed.
"I'd really like more casual days like today, here", Marc said.
"No problem, Mr. Reuter", I replied. "As I have meetings with my clients only on previous appointment there is no need for modesty here. Feel free to wear as much or as little as you want when there are no clients here. You only have to take care to cover up when clients come here."
"Seriously?", he asked.
"Well, I think it would be inappropriate to stay naked then."
"No that's evident. But you seriously allow me to work in the buff?"
"As I said; wear as much or as little as you like. If you feel most comfortable naked, I have no objections as long as you accept that I won't wear any clothes here either."
"Shall I be honest?", he asked.
"Please."
"I'd feel best if none of us ever wore clothing in the office."
That was great. Obviously my clerk was as much into nudity as I. So I said: "Okay, I promise, as long as there aren't any clients here, I will be naked and I will be glad if you stay naked, too. But you have to take something on when clients come or I otherwise ask you for it."
"And what do I have to wear then?"
I thought a little bit. "Well, I intend to have only or at least mostly gay clients. So it will be okay if you are dressed sexy. But don't reveal everything. It has to be a manner in which you'd walk through the city at daylight."
Marc laughed: "I always wanted to go naked on a shopping tour."
He had made a point. But not won yet.
"Okay", I said, "prove that. Go naked on a shopping tour of at least two hours at daylight and we can discuss the theme of further loosening of your job uniform. Until then I expect any kind of pants and shirts to be worn in front of clients unless otherwise demanded."
"I will one day", Marc promised.
I couldn't imagine that Marc might be successful with these plans. But if he really managed to do such a shopping tour one day there wouldn't be a reason to force him to wearing clothes on work.
Unfortunately, the discussion about public nudity had a side-effect on me. I got a boner which was quickly recognized by Marc.
"Oh boss", he said pointing to my hard-on. "I think I have to help you with that problem."
"No thank you", I said. "That's not necessary."
"I don't agree", he opposed. "In fact you need your clerk's help urgently."
I still rejected his offer: "I think I can manage it by myself."
As prove I started to rub my cock.
"Probably you won't be able to get relief by a blow job then", he said.
"That's right. I have often tried self-sucking but never succeeded."
Marc crawled under my desk and knelt in front of me. He put his mouth over my boner and started sucking.
"Hey", I protested. "That's not part of your job to give your boss blow-jobs."
"If it's not part of it", he answered shortly letting my boner slip out of his mouth, "but it's perhaps a gratification you owe me for good work. So please let me suck your cock."
What should I do? It would have been stupid if I rejected him. If he was so much into sucking cock, I should let him. But no, that was impossible. I was his boss, and he was my employee.
"You shouldn't do it", I said. "You know: never fuck the company."
"Hey, I don't know many places where you are allowed to work naked with a naked boss. If I suck your cock, there is nothing romantic in it. It's nothing more than giving me my weekly ration of cum."
He gulped down my boner again. Marc wasn't a good cocksucker. He was premier league. I had to admit that he was brilliant in caressing my glans with his hot tongue. He let slide its tip into my piss slit, and then he deep-throated me. He licked my balls and continued on my shaft. Although I had had a good 69er with Ralf after jogging it didn't take long until I felt a rising orgasm. He was again deep-throating me when I started shooting my load. He swallowed every drop of my cum before he let my prick out.
"Very tasty", he said finally while getting up.
"You are a great cocksucker", I admired and looked on his hard-on which stood about 20 cm (8") – rather much for this guy of 1,74 m (5'9") and around muscular 72 kg (160 lb).
"Well at least one thing for which my former career as hustler was good for", he answered to my great surprise. Now he stood next to me.
"You were a hustler?"
"Yes", he admitted. "When I came out to my parents at the age of 15, they slung me out. I had to leave their house the next day. I hadn't expected that. So I bought a train ticket to Cologne as I had heard that the city is very liberal concerning homosexuality."
"Indeed", I interjected. "It is said that about every fourth adult is gay here."
"The first night I went to the gay bars. Fortunately, I quickly met an older guy, Robert. He was about fifty and alcoholic. But he was a good guy. He hadn't much money but agreed to rent an apartment for me."
"As you were minor, you couldn't do it on your own", I stated.
"Exactly. He let me sleep some nights in his apartment, and he never touched me. The only thing he wanted me was to strip naked as soon as we were inside and stay naked the whole time. He wanked off watching my nude young body. That was all. After about a week, we found a one-room apartment for me. It had a shared bathroom and was in a former brothel, but it cost only 150 Euros per month."
"But you didn't prostitute only because you lived in a former brothel."
He laughed. "Of course not. I had no intentions to get an alcohol or drug addict. So I had to do something of my live. I decided to finish school and do my exams. So the next day I went to the next high school and applied for admission."
"How did you manage to get accepted", I inquired.
"I told them something about my father being handicapped, in severely poor health and unable to come to the school to sign my application. The school director agreed to hand me the form out. My father should sign it at home."
"And so did Robert pretending to be you father?"
"No. I didn't want that. I did it myself and imitated my father's signature."
"That explains why you went to school and did your exams but not why you became a hustler."
"Have you ever tried to get a job, 15 years old without the company of your parents to sign the contract?"
"No", I replied, "fortunately I was never in this situation."
"There was no chance. My savings lasted for three months. So I had to do something. And then I was hanging out with Robert in one of those dirty bars at Hay Market. A forty year-old businessman offered me 100 Euros if I went with him to his hotel, stripped naked and allowed him to lick my ass and suck my cock off. That was a good offer for somebody broke."
"So, you did it?"
"Of course. When we were in the hotel and he saw me naked with my rather big cock, he asked me for the price for me fucking his ass and sucking him off. I had no idea what to demand. He was faster and offered 300. That was the first time for me to suck a cock and fuck an ass. It was good money."
"And you never had problems being a minor hustler?"
He admitted: "Until I got 16 reaching the legal age for hanging out in bars until at 10 pm, it was difficult as you might imagine. Fortunately nobody controlled my ID in this time. I was always very discreet and never prostituted obviously. Always the guys asked me if they could hire me. Best days were Tuesday through Thursday when businessmen were in town. When I demanded 100 Euros for a blowjob or 200 for a fuck they paid it without haggling. I needed two clients a week and it worked perfect. All of them liked me as I was neither drug nor alcohol addict, polite and well hung – and I did it always safe. Some ones wanted taking me for the whole night for 500 Euros. I did some sports after school and never worked on the weekends. On sunny days I sunbathed naked at the gay beach to get a nice overall tan and did my homework there."
"I never saw you then", I said.
"Perhaps we went to different beaches", he suggested.
"Probably. But as I remember, your parents are wealthy. So why didn't you require maintenance?"
"I wrote them and demanded the maintenance, but I couldn't sue for it until I got 18. Of course, I won the trial then, but that was more than four years after they threw me out. It was a good amount of money they had to pay. So my income as clerk-apprentice and the maintenance for four years allowed me to drop the job as hustler. After then was the first time, I had romantic sex with a guy."
"That's a sad story", I commented.
"No reason to worry", Marc said. "It was an experience, and I don't regret anything. But I wish that my parents will burn in the hell for what they did to me."
"Have you ever contacted your parents since the maintenance-trial?", I asked.
"No. And I don't want to. I will thank God the day when I can bury them."
"I understand you, but I don't like you hateful. How can I return you the favor you gave me before?", I asked.
"You don't need to", Marc replied.
"I want", I said.
"Okay, then I want you to fuck me. Hard. Bare. Fuck me und fill my guts with your cum until I cum, too."
"Sure?", I asked.
"More than sure", he replied.
"Then take what you need", I offered.
Marc went to me. He pushed me down again onto my chair and stroked my dick. I don't know where he took it from, but he found some lube and prepared my cock for the fuck. Then he sat down onto my crotch. My hard-on slid into his crack in one slow motion without any resistance. He rode on my cock, and while he fucked himself with my boner, his cock erected, too. I was close to cum for the third time this day, when he stopped. He waited a little bit before he started his motions again. As he recognized that my balls were again to spray my cream, he stopped for another time. A short while later he started again, rode fast and hard on my cock. This time it didn't take long until my orgasm came. When I shot my first load into his guts, he started cumming as well. The first shot hit his chin, and then he sprayed a lake of sperm onto his chest and his abs. Leaked in men cream he sat on my crotch until my softened cock slid off his ass.
"That was hot", he said, standing up. "But I think, it's time to restart working."
Marc went to the washroom in which I had installed a shower – just for the case that I wanted to go out (e. g. to The Confessional) after a hot, sweaty day at work. When he came out drying his athletic, tanned body with a towel, I went in and showered, too. As I left the washroom, Marc was sitting on his desk, typing tapes as if nothing unusual had happened – except the fact that he was bare naked.
After the release of my 2nd and 3rd orgasm this day, working got much easier. It was much more comfortable working as usual as I sat naked at my desk. And although there was a stark naked Adonis in the next room whom I could see through the open door, I wasn't too much distracted.
At about 4 PM Marc had done all the tapes. He came into my room swinging his soft cock. He looked so cute.
"Boss", he asked, "do you have more tapes so far or may I go now?"
"I have some tapes", I said, "but they don't have to be typed before Wednesday. It's your weekend, and I appreciate very much that you have worked today. I give you an extra holiday for this."
"Thank you", Marc answered. "And I give the extra holiday back for the right to work naked with a naked boss."
"And if you had to choose: either a naked boss or working naked yourself?"
"It would be disappointing seeing you in clothes, but I would vote for working in the buff."
"The same with me", I said. "I like seeing you bare-assed, but if I had to choose, I'd undress alone."
"Nevertheless", Marc responded, "I have to get into clothes now. I will meet some friends in about half an hour."
"Naked?" I joked.
"No, unfortunately in clothes", he replied. "See you Monday morning."
"Yes, see you", I said.
He went out – dressed only in his tight shorts and the red net-shirt. Did I say that Marc looked so sexy?
About two hours later, I was ready with my folders and cases, too. It was Saturday 6 PM of my first week as self-employed, and I finally could start the weekend. I looked forward to come home, open a bottle of wine and wanking on a good porn.
So I cleared up my desk and was about to leave, when the phone rang. I answered.
"Hi this is Oliver", the phone responded.
Oliver was my longest time mate. We had met at university in my first year when I attended the meetings of the Conservative Students Union. Although he was 100-percent straight and a womanizer, we got friends. He had been more consequent in his political career and become member of the party committee, while I had worked on my career as lawyer.
Yes, I am gay, nudist and member of our conservative party. When I was born, our chancellor was Helmut Kohl, and he remained chancellor until I went to senior high. I considered the time under Gerhard Schroeder as extremely bad for the country and was glad when Mrs. Merkel regained the majority for us conservatives. That's why I am member of the party.
"You remember our talk about the municipal constituency of Inner City V last year", he asked me.
"Of course", I said. "It was a disaster for us. It was our worst constituency in the City. We had about 16 % and were some 20 % behind the Green Party who won."
"Yes, and you said that only a gay candidate would be able to get this constituency for the party, as approximately 40 % of the voters are gay."
"Indeed, I said that."
"Okay, today we talked in the committee about the candidates for the municipal election in May", Oliver explained. "And I said that it was no wonder that Dana only got the worst result of all 45 constituencies."
"Because?", I asked.
"You know Dana", Oliver replied.
Of course, I did. Dana Szczybunski-Hrdanová (the name is pronounced like She-Boon-Skee Hear-Dunn-o-Var – but you have to leave all vowels out pronouncing it except the last "a") was the long-term candidate of this constituency. She was about 70 years now, daughter of a Czechoslovakian dissident who had fled of the communist regime in Prague in the 1980s and a Polish dissident of the same background. She was very conservative and never laughed. She damned gay marriage and always went out with a bun in her light grey hair. Dana was nobody to win an election in a surrounding of young, alternative and gay people.
"And what did they say?", I asked.
"They said considering the fact that it is a gay dominated constituency it might be a good idea to have a young, good-looking, gay candidate. That's when I proposed you."
"Candidate in Inner City V for the party – that's like kamikaze", I said.
"It is", Oliver agreed. "But you have nothing to lose. For sure you will make more than 20 %, perhaps 25 % which would prove that we had a good idea. And just imagine you win the constituency. And by the way, you know that every vote you get even if not winning the constituency might give us more seats in the City Council. Last time it was very sharp that we lost our majority with the Liberals against the Reds, Purples and Greens."
[As in many other countries also German parties are associated with colors. Reds are the Social Democrats, Purples the Socialists and Greens the Ecologists; the conservative Christian Democrats are the Blacks and the Liberals the Yellows.]
"You are probably right", I said. "I'll think about it and call you back."
"Do so, but please don't take too much time. You know that the nomination assembly is in three weeks."
We talked a little bit about our personals especially my first week as freelancer (but I omitted the dirty details about working with Marc today) before we ended the call.
I decided to leave my shorts in the office. So I folded them put them in the drawer of my desk and slipped into my shoes. The elevator brought me just to the parking lot. Having jogged so many times naked around my house, I wasn't shy at all to walk naked from the parking space I found around the corner to my home.
There I went to the kitchen, opened a bottle of white wine, poured some in a glass and went to my couch. Was it really a good idea to candidate for the City Council? I would think about it watching a good porn.
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Thanks for your attention. I appreciate your feedback and if you have a good setting to place David, Ralf and perhaps Marc naked, I will try to write about it. And remember: David needs the challenge of most public exposure.