My Boss Steve 2
Chapter 1
This is part 2 of the story about my boss. It's based on a real character who I've been chatting to after he read one of my other yarns. I hope you enjoy it and if you haven't already read part 1, I suggest you read that first, though that's not vital.
I'd love to hear what you think of the tale: my email berks4326@aol.com
The story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives.
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His concentration was broken by the annoying jingle that heralded a call on his phone. Steve was trying to finish the document he was compiling so he could leave work on time for a change, and really didn't need the interruption.
He was tired and annoyed: annoyed because he was desperate to get away, and tired because he'd been running every weekday evening for the last two weeks. The muscles in his legs ached as he hadn't run for quite a while now. `Going for a run' had just been an excuse for his wife when he visited Stu at his flat for a shag. His employee it seemed, couldn't get enough of his healthy sexual appetites and his oversized prick filling him up.
But Stuart had been away visiting his sister in the Czech Republic, and in order for him to carry on using the excuse when he was back, Steve had no option but to actually run. He enjoyed running, but was fit enough anyway as he played football for the works team, and hell, he was having extremely energetic sex most week-nights with Stu.
Stu was back tonight. The thought caused a stirring in his boxers and a tingle in his balls, and had done on and off for most of the day. He was going to give Stu such a seeing to tonight, he wouldn't be able to walk afterwards.
"It's Steve", he snapped at the small device that seemed to rule his life these days. But the call wasn't work related after all, it was the sexy Stu, the reason why he was right now having to adjust things down below.
"Hello my sexy boy", he breathed into the mic," Are you at the airport?" Steve was picking him up from Heathrow in a couple of hours.
"I was, but we're on our way back to the apartment. I'm not going to be home `till tomorrow sometime".
"What? Why not?" Steve felt deflated.
"Oh the flight's been cancelled. Some sort of military exercise by the Czech army has disrupted all the flights. It seems it's something that's been put off because of the pandemic and they need to do it today. Bummer eh?"
"Oh no, that's awful. You've no idea how horny I am right now; I need to throw you onto the floor of your flat, rip your clothes off and show you just how much I've missed you. I'm going to give you such a seeing to when you get home. I'm going to fuck you so hard and so many times you're going to need help standing. You're going to be so full of my cu...."Steve heard a faint female giggle.
"Stop! Stop!. Boss, stop please stop. Boss, you can't say that. You're on speaker. My sister's driving me and can hear everything."
"Oh. Sorry," Steve couldn't think what else to say.
" OK, you're not on speaker now. It's not so bad, my sis knows all about us, but just watch it, eh big boy".
"So when do you think you'll be back?"
"The airline are going to let us know. I'll call you. I miss you too you know".
"How much?" Steve asked, unable to stop himself trying to start some horny chat despite the situation.
"I'll have to show you tomorrow", the younger lad flirted. "I have to go now. Sorry, Steve. I'll call as soon as I hear anything."
Steve hung up and moved the burgeoning erection in his suit trousers to get comfortable. He thought about the Army manoeuvrers that would delay the sexual relief he yearned for and remembered the Czech soldier he'd spent time with when he was in the army all those years ago.
He'd always been good at sports, and in the army he played football, been really good at tennis and of course, his real love, rugby.
But it was his talented tennis playing that got him chosen to represent his regiment in the charity celebrity tennis competition soon after he'd reached the rank of Captain. He was to travel to the famous Queen's Club tennis centre in West London together with Mark, a captain from another unit that he knew vaguely.
They got a taxi from Paddington and were soon at the impressive venue. They'd been told that they would be split up as the tournament was to be used to encourage contact between armies from different "friendly" countries. He was told he was to share a room with Radek Hnlicky from Prague. `Oh well,' he thought,' have to make the most of it I guess. I bet he's a typical fat Eastern block Nazi'.
Steve was directed to his quarters and started unpacking and storing his things neatly. There seemed to be plenty of storage. These were, after all, where the professionals put their stuff and had a kip if they needed to.
He was nearly finished, when the door opened and a very tall, slim figure ducked into the room.
"Hi, I'm Radek," the accent was thick, but the English was not sounding strained.
"Oh, hello. I'm Steve, Steve Thanshung", he responded proffering a hand. They shook, Steve looking directly into the piercing light blue eyes of his Czech counterpart. He was very tall; about 6ft 5, slim but clearly muscular, actually quite handsome, nothing like he'd expected.
"I am very pleased to meet you", the man called Radek spoke slowly, looking at the paper in his hand, presumably with Steve's name on it " er Mr. Than- shung' or is it Thans -- hung'?".
"Me too, Steve had said," but it's pronounced Thans -- ung', the H' is silent. Just as well, as people might think I'm bragging!"
The tall man missed Steve's harried joke about his name. "I'm sorry. The English language is so difficult, not like Czech which is simple".
"Hold on," Steve responded, "how the hell do you pronounce your surname,
H N L I C K Y?" he spelt out the impossible word.
"Oh, of course, it's `Nil ich key', the H is silent too!" They both laughed, Steve shaking his head, feeling quickly at ease in each other's company, both men fell into an easy conversation about the differences between the two countries' armed forces as they finished unpacking and putting their stuff away.
Sitting facing each other on their respective beds, the two soldiers had continued chatting. Steve wanted to know about the excellence of tennis amongst the Czechs of course. After a while, they realised they should get ready for tonight's dinner reception. They took turns to shower and then dressed in their formal evening wear, each commenting on the pronounced difference in appearance of the smart clothes compared with the casual jeans and tops they'd arrived in.
Dinner was fun, Steve remembered. The food was good and the speeches entertaining, then they were told, it was time to introduce some of tennis's famous names who would be joining them for the charity tournament.
Steve felt sure he was not alone in his apprehension when several well-known champion players from the past paraded in. His nervousness peaked, however, when a number of current high profile world champions followed, including Marin Cilic, Daniel Evans, Grigor Dimitrov, Novak Djokovic and Roger Federer.
After dinner, everyone congregated in the bar area. He'd been told to mingle and chatted to a fascinating cross-section of military men from different countries. It wasn't long however, before Steve's tennis hero walked up to him and introduced himself.
"Hello. I'm Roger", the Swiss champion said proffering his hand.
"Yes, I know who you are Mr Federer", Steve fell over his words. Why had he even said that? "I'm Steven Thanshung. I'm very pleased to meet you sir". He almost had to stop himself from bowing!
"I'm pleased to meet you too Steven. You're English yes? Let's move somewhere quieter so we can chat more easily." Steve found himself manoeuvred to the side of the large room and they sat at a small table, distanced from the crowd.
They chatted for a while, Steve quickly feeling more comfortable in the presence of the famous Swiss star. He learned that Federer had been married for many years and had two sets of twins."Mine works well", he'd joked. "How about yours?"
"Erm, I'm not married", Steve replied feeling a little uncomfortable now and even more inferior to this hugely successful man. In fact, he was not very sexually experienced at this time in his life. He'd lost his virginity at school to a spotty girl who forever pestered him and who's name he couldn't even remember. He'd slipped his length up local slappers a couple of times, but had mostly concentrated on bettering himself and his career.
"Please will you excuse me now Mr. Federer," He'd said when there was a convenient pause in their conversation. "I've been told I have to mingle with the other soldiers."
"Steven. I like you. I want to help you play better tennis, so let's stay and talk more. No-one is going to criticise you for doing what I ask are they. Tomorrow I will coach you on the court: we could have a knock-about if you wanted to." It was a statement, not a question. The man was sure of his status.
Steve looked around the room and saw his room-mate, the tall Czech, Radek, sitting at a table on the opposite side of the room, seemingly monopolised by Djokovic. Further round, and there was his chum Mark deep in conversation with the handsome Bulgarian tennis star, Dimitrov.
"I guess it'd be OK, oh and thank you." Getting free tennis advice from the great man was a bonus he hadn't anticipated.
"Steven. The game of tennis, is as much a game of strategy demanding mental strength and agility, as it is physical", he began, "so my advice is always to first of all, before even beginning to speak of any actual playing, to clear your mind of anything that might cause distraction."
Steve remembered the man's big tanned face and the way he stared directly into his mind, the guy's small dark brown eyes unblinking, the cold stare unsettling him. "I'm not sure I understand sir," he'd responded nervously.
"You need to let go of any regrets, any guilty secrets or anything that might be in the darkest corners of your mind. You need to release them, to be free of them for the sake of your game."
"I'm not sure there is anything Mr Federer." Steve's mind was racing, thinking about a few things that could never be spoken of.
"Come now Steve, we both know of things that happen to healthy young men in the Army. Don't forget my country has conscription, so I too spent time as a soldier." He was still staring deep into Steve's eyes. He remembered his younger self virtually squirming under the steely gaze of this dominant man and just shook his head.
"Steve, you mustn't be ashamed, or afraid to tell me, to unload your niggling secrets or fears. You want to win the tournament for your regiment don't you? I am the man to help you win, you know I am."
He thought long and hard. Here was the world champion offering his advice and help, and tomorrow, actual coaching. And all for free!
"Don't be shy now Steven. You know we are both healthy, fit men and I too spend many days away from my wife, and many nights with just the other players for company".
What was he hinting at? Steve wondered. He knew there were many things in his head that he had always thought he would never be called upon to speak about, but this man, with his piercing eyes, dominating presence and promise of help, made him think how good it would be to be able to tell someone and get things off his chest.
Steve thought back. There were things, but he knew he could never tell a soul about what had happened with the Sergeant that had been accused of sexual assault. For a while he forgot where he was, and remembered. He remembered that the reputation and good name of his regiment would be on the line if he ever spoke of that. They'd all agreed at the time and the cover-up had worked. The Sergeant in question had never offended again to his knowledge. But the other things......
He looked back at the tennis champion who was waiting patiently for a reply. Steve knew he would have to confide in the man. He was an intimidating presence.
"It was nothing really; just a bit of fun, a bit of madness. It didn't mean anything."
"So you've told all your friends and family about it have you?" Again the piercing stare.
"No of course not,"Steve said, feeling he was really put on the spot now. He'd just outline some of what had happened.
"It was just a silly thing really. It was when I had just got to go to officer training. In the centre, I shared a room with another soldier on the programme and we fooled around a bit. I kind of got talked into it."
He began to relax as the big Swiss man moved closer and started to explain what had happened.
He remembered his room mate well.
He was called Donald King, though he was always known as Don. His surname King, led of course to him being called King Dong', Donking Don, or Donkey Dong'.
Don had a reputation with the ladies. It was said that he'd had sex with most of the girls in the nearby town and was then working his way through their mothers! Asked what he'd do when he'd run out of their mums, he'd replied that he'd probably start on their brothers. He thought I should be getting more action too and offered to help.
Steve remembered what that had entailed. Don took him out to a club where Don had quickly identified his `target' amongst a group of girls on a night out. He'd not had to work very hard Steve thought, as pretty soon he was buying her second Vodka and she was giggling at his jokes and batting her false lashes at him blatantly. Steve had been left at he bar with her friend while the rest of the group were dancing together to the loud Disco music.
Steve had bought the girl a drink and tried to spark conversation, but after an "it's nice here isn't it?" and a couple of other inane questions that only got awkward, one word answers, the girl had declined another drink and headed off to join her friends on the dance floor.
Steve decided he'd had enough and decided to go back to the training centre. There was no sign of Don, and as he'd said he'd get a taxi back if he pulled, Steve walked around to the back of the building to where he'd left his car. It was as he was pulling his key's from his pocked that he'd heard it; the unmistakeable noise of a girl moaning and the muted voice of Don whispering throatily. The car park was unlit and Steve decided to take a closer look. He saw the girl leaning against a low wall and Don's hand working its way up her skirt. He could see her knickers had fallen down to her ankles. The girls moans soon changed to loud yells of, "Oh my God; Oh yes, yes Nnnnnnnnn."
Steve had been intrigued. He'd never had this effect during any of his limited experiences and here was sex-mad Don achieving it with just a finger or two. Pretty quickly, Don had unzipped and pushed his not inconsiderable sized weapon hard up his latest conquest and was pounding away at her. Once more Steve heard the sound of the girl loudly enjoying a second orgasm. Don had pressed his mouth against hers to dampen the sound. He then turned the poor girl round, leant her over the wall, and was pushing his knob hard against her other hole.
"Do we have to do this?" She'd said. Don just kept pushing until he must have gained entry as the poor girl yelped. It wasn't long though, before it sounded like she was having her third cum. Steve decided it was time to leave before he was seen.
The next morning, Don was keen to brag. "Yeah, that slapper I was chatting up at the bar was well up for it. I got her to squirt four times before I gave it up to her and got my rocks off. She loved it, but my god she was noisy! I'm getting hard again just thinking about it."
When asked about his own evening, Steve just shook his head." No, I didn't get lucky," then thought for a while. "Have you ever fucked a girl in the arse?" he asked, knowing the answer.
"Hell yes. Have you?" When Steve again shook his head, Don asked,"how many women have you actually had then Steve?"
"Oh, I've had my share," he replied, knowing full well it had only been three and all of them pretty unsatisfactory.
Don looked at him, clearly not believing him and wondering if his room mate was in reality still a virgin. "There are other ways of having fun if you don't pull you know. You need to start practising more; get into training! I'll help if you like. You know, use it or lose it eh?"
"For Pete's sake, Don. I know how to wank. It's just not easy with you in the room is it."
"Exactly my point mate."
"So what exactly happened? How did you `fool around'?" Roger Federer's strong Swiss accent brought him back to where he was.
"Um, you know, we just, er, got each other off a couple of times, that's all."
Steve remembered vividly how it had started, despite trying hard to forget those crazy times.
That first time, he'd been standing at the sink in their shared bathroom in just his briefs, shaving. He nodded in the mirror at Don standing behind him with his electric toothbrush in his hand. The toothbrush buzzed as Don switched it on, then he'd felt it against his bum-cheek.
"Hey, stop that. It tickles." Actually, it felt kind of nice and Steve remembered thinking he'd have to try something similar with his own electric toothbrush when he was on his own. Trouble was, he was never alone though. Don was slowly moving the bristles of the buzzing device over the clinging white elasticated fabric of his underpants. "Fuck's sake, Don. Steve gave up with trying to shave, put the razor down and turned round, but his friend kept the oscillating brush pressed against him. As he turned, the tickling bristles now slid onto the ample bulge of his covered bollocks. He gasped through his soapy face. It felt very good. Don slowly moved the tantalising device up over his ball-sack until it just touched the shaft of his dick, causing it to twitch involuntarily.
"Feels nice eh?" Don said softly. Steve couldn't answer, He was acutely embarrassed that another man was having this effect on him and worse, witnessing his cock swelling in his pants. He felt the stimulation move along his burgeoning length towards the sensitised head, while at the same time, his foreskin was sliding back as his prick grew, baring even more of its most sensitive area. His continued gasps affirmed his pleasure and the brush continued its way up and down his cock which was now at forty-five degrees in the clinging material.
"My, you are a big boy, aren't you mate. The two men looked each other in the eyes, then Don slid down onto his knees. I can't believe the girls aren't swarming all over you. You must be able to make `em feel so good with that massive dong."
Don had moved closer; so close now, that Steve could feel the heat of his breath on his knob through the fabric of his underwear. The pleasurable feeling was moving once again, this time down lower until it was under his heavy balls. At the same time as it moved further under, Don's lips gently moved against his shaft, just below the head and then moved up and his tongue licked. Steve felt the warm mouth closing round his helmet, the small motions of the toothbrush now pushing against his hole.
"Oh fuck, Don. What are you doing. Oh." Steve was panting now. He'd never felt any of these multiple sensations before.
"Nice eh?" Don moved his mouth away briefly to speak. Steve's dick was now fully hard and he looked down to see the pink, bulbous head now protruding from the elasticated leg of the white briefs. Don was kissing it gently and, feeling it jump against his lips, pulled it into his mouth.
"Jeez, Don. What are we doing? This isn't right; oh fuck."
"You want me to stop?"
"No. No, don't stop. It's just; oh yes, yes. So good. Mmm." At this point, Steve remembered, he'd just given up, the extreme pleasure of his friend, his fellow soldier's mouth doing such wonderful things to his senses, dictating every thought in his brain. He felt the cotton being moved aside and his length being completely exposed to the ministrations of that hot tongue and mouth. He held on to Don's head with both hands and involuntarily began pushing forwards and back in between lips that seemed to grip him more firmly. His pal had his eyes closed and an expression of concentration on his face and he pumped his cock in and out faster.
"Don, fuck, I'm c-c-cumming!" Steve said, trying to pull out. To his surprise, he felt hands on his hips, holding him in place. He found himself dizzily pumping his load and all his frustrations into the soldier's warm, wet mouth.
"So how exactly did you get each other off' as you put it?" The Swiss champion clearly wanted more, "Come on Steven, you won't shock me. As I said, I've had a bit of fun' and times of `madness' just as you said you have. And yes, it doesn't mean anything, but I've let it go. I don't think you have. You'll tell me eventually. He looked expectantly at Steve.
Steve had felt the famous man's eyes boring into his own and knew he was right. It was going to be impossible not to confide in this man. It was after all, necessary in order to improve his game; to ensure he was able to focus 100% on winning his matches.
"We, er, you know, we, um, played with each other. He sucked me off a few times."
"And you did the same for him." It was a statement.
Steve felt his face redden, "only once." There; it was, out. He hoped it made him feel better, but he wasn't really sure it did.
Federer was silent for a few moments. "There's more, isn't there. Tomorrow, we play with each other and you will tell me then."
"Play with each other?" Steve felt himself feeling quickly that he no longer understood much of what the stocky, muscular Swiss meant by his words.
"We play tennis together tomorrow," the man lowered his voice and leaning forward said," and no playing with yourself tonight. You'll need plenty of sleep. Oh, and no playing with your room mate either! I'll meet you by the courts at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning."
With a broad grin on his face the champ left and was soon chatting to a small group of obvious fans.
Steve leant back in his chair, wondering what the hell had just happened.
Steve was back in his room only a few minutes before his room mate Radek walked in.
"You look like I feel mate," Steve saw the strained, slightly confused look on the face of the tall Czech and the stoop of his broad shoulders. "How was Djokovic? I saw you talking to him."
"He was fine." The man sat heavily on his bed.
"So what did you speak about?"
"He, um, he wanted to know about things in the army in my country."
"Things?"
"Yes, life in the Czech army. Things the soldiers do, um with each other, you know".
"I think I do, yes." Steve responded. "Federer wanted to know the same stuff I think. He told me I should get any secrets out for the sake of my tennis."
"Exactly. Novak told me about life in the tennis world and how he messed around when he was in the Serbian army for national service. Us Czechs don't worry about that sort of stuff. We're very broad-minded. When I saw action in Afghanistan; when your life has been in danger, you seek comfort and solace with another soldier. It's natural, but we just don't talk about it. Not normally anyway. I think the dirty Serb was getting off on what I was describing to him."
That night as he lay in bed, Steve replayed in his head his conversation with Federer. How had this man, a stranger to him, got him to divulge things he'd never told a living soul? Was he also `getting off' hearing Steve's experiences? Surely it couldn't just be coincidence that the Serbian tennis star Djokovic and his room mate had a similar conversation. Had his fellow British soldier Mark also spoken of these things with the Bulgarian champion Dimitrov? He'd seen them sitting close together talking.