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'OFfiCe JOckS FoR DOmiNaTiOn' o1 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
Steve had been standing there for several seconds, holding a loaded barbell, while catching glimpses of tanked muscle dude, skin and hair busting out the sides of the fabric. Passing by him in the gym, Steve often got the 'hey', followed by knuckle bump. Not walking, all out stalking the dude, Steve's eyes suddenly align with the hairy muscle-builder and this time he gets a very suggestive smile, those lips curling up into a 'thrown' kiss!
"Oh shit," Steve's eyes dive down to where he's supposed to be putting the bar into his friend's hands!
Rick was overjoyed when he found, the guy he worked with, was not only into the gym, but guys.
"Uh, am I missing anything, Steve?"
"No, no, no, of course not Rick. Why would you think something like that," said in a way Steve knew he was incriminated on the spot.
There wasn't much weight on the bar. Good thing too, Rick doing a sit up, like he didn't believe Steve, "uh-huh."
Steve stare where Rick studied the perimeter of the back wall, the area where there hung a punching bag from the ceiling, free weights and field of fake green turf, apparatus which sported different props to use without the aid of machinery, other than the muscles of a person.
Rick picked up on several men who he won't mind getting with, which gave his cock a little tick, but was more interested in that one man he sought out, "you'll have to point him out to me later," he was confident of Steve's man-gazing.
It wouldn't be the first time Steve got caught, not the last!
As Rick returns to reclining on the leather-covered bench, he scolds, "well, are you going to stand there and hold it all day, Steve?"
"Yeah, yeah," Steve still stares, lowering the loaded bar. Finally focusing, he tries to steer his friend off topic, "hey Rick, do you ever wonder what the reason is why us guys like to be fit?"
Steve glances up, scans the outlay of the gym, noticing the guy he stalked had left the scene.
At that moment Rick finishes off the set, sits up, stands and motioned for Steve to take his place. He's not oblivious to his friends unattendedness.
"I don't get what you mean, Steve?" Rick replies, questioning his thoughts, as he spotts for his buddy, and at the same time scans the back wall, approximating where Steve had just perused.
Steve had wished Rick could take a few more reps,that way he might have stayed in eye contact with his mystery man.
Rick pays attention lowering the bar, "like, here I am, Steve, a successful twenty-four year old, making a good salary, have great hours, friends, security, workout six days a week? I mean, what else is there?"
His full atteniton on Rick, his face at first, taking to staring up his shorts.
More attention geared to topic, Rick seeks, "have you ever thought about mountain climbing, Steve?"
"You still don't get what I mean, do you Rick?"
"Hey, I'm trying to catch on, Steve, believe me," Rick tries focusing, dividing his time between the bar, Steve on the lifting end, and that occasional glance across the hunk-studded environment. He does crack a smile, not skipping over the chubby guy on the treadmill, sweating up a storm!
With Rick's help, Steve replaces the barbell. He sits up, lifting his muscle tee to wipe his face, all sweated up from the intense workout.
It hid his face, which he didn't see it coming, a tall, tanked dude saying, "nice abs, man."
Before planing the tee over his abs, Steve doesn't recall it being his buddy's voice. Then, who?
Disappointed, the muscle hunk offers a knuckle-bump to Rick, Steve acts innocent, "oh, I thought you meant me?!"
The muscleman, feeling confused, being both men looked fit, but handsome in physique and facial features, "oh! Yeah. I did," he knuckle-bumps Steve.
Right after, to keep the conversation going, keep the eye candy in their prescense, Steve says, "well, thanks for the compliment."
"Compliment," it escaped the dude's mind.
As usual, Rick stands there and lets his buddy carry on, "the compliment you made on my chiseled abs?"
"Oh. That. Yeah, well both of ya's, you look like you keep yourselves in shape," furthering, "I meant, the six pack."
Rick finally gets up the audacity to say, "uh, when do I get to see yours?"
Steve, sitting there on the bench, with more than a view of the muscleman's abs, turns to his bud, "I don't think he's meaning you, Rick."
Up close he looked to be about forty-something, but age wasn't important to any of them, the muscled man saying, "I feel so pumped up right now, I bet I can take on both of you."
Steve was captivated!
Rick, curious, says, "we don't wrestle."
"Oh, I wasn't thinking sports."
Jumping the gun, Steve was getting more in pumping condition by the second and it wasn't that he was feeling it in his chest, nor abs, "don't mind Rick. He's a little slow," he twirls his fingers around in a circle by his temple.
Regardless, apparently it wasn't on the muscle jock's mind, "well, if you want to stand around here and chit-chat, fine, but I'm headed towards the showers, if you're interested?"
"Well, I've had enough for today. What about you, Rick?"
Rick was wise to Steve, but also not feeling the urge to follow, "yeah, I think that could just about wrap things up."
"Good. Let's go catch a shower."
As Steve leaves the gym, he tears his gray muscle tee off over his head.
Loving it when Steve does that, Rick gazes at his back, steadily traveling down to the buns as they shift back and forth with the pull of the lycra. His testosterone levels must be climbing!
Carding the slot on the gym locker, Steve opens the door. Shedding his sneakers, he places them on the floor of the tall locker.
Rick, two lockers down, does the same. Peeling his top, from some local cafe, he rolls it up and puts it in his gym bag. Shortly, he peels his socks and shorts, stuffing them in, too.
"You have to always like, be so neat about things, Rick?"
He notices Steve, as always, stuffing shirt, shorts, socks and whatever else into a bag, regardless if anything clean is there for the choosing, later, "no wonder you smell so sweet when we return to work!"
"Who cares about that. C'mon," Steve grabs a towel, "we've got to get there before he leaves."
A question came to Rick's mind, who is 'he', as he picks up a towel, smelling it for fabric softener, "we didn't even get a name."
Seeing Steve's tail disappear into the shower room, Rick smiles to himself, saying to himself, "like, you really care."
Sometimes being late, it falls on your plate, which happens to be the case with Rick, hearing, "hey."
From between the corridor of lockers appears the goon who introduced his presence to Rick and Steve.
A smart guy, at least in the office, he had several attributes about himself when it came to people, reason he worked in personnel at the office, "oh, it's you."
"Jared," the huge, toweled, hairy muscle man stands there with a hand extended.
Ignoring the hand, Rick says, "Steve, he's waiting for you in the shower."
With a cunning smile, the forty-ish looking muscle-bear says, "how do you know it's Steve I'm looking for, woof!"
Without the tank on, Rick could see what Steve talked about, all that massive amount hair extending beyond the pectoral region of Jared's chest and much as it turned him on, he had his friend's feeling to think of, "yeah, that's nice, but Steve..."
"What about me?" Steve exits the steamy room.
Maybe a few minutes ago Jared hungered for the mostly smooth desires of Rick's bod, but gazing upon Steve's hairy pecs, the defined line cutting his abs in half and the tiger trail leading to a rock-hard endowment, "oh yeah, baby!"
Rick was a little disappointed as Jared ushers Steve back into the shower and in walking away audibly shows it, "so much for that."
Some things were just never meant to be set in stone.
Perhaps it was the edge Steve had on him, bold pecs, hairy at that, which made them look more humongous, and the other definitions, which showed he worked out, not which Rick could say for himself.
Growing up he was a chubby kid, got picked on a lot for it, but on the brink of the college years thought, that if he ever wanted to fit into gay campus life, he better do something about it. It was his high school soccer coach who turned the basement of the gym, a crude arrangement of exercise props, over to him, that Rick was able to change his bod and with that came the change in how people looked at him. Even the bullies changed their mind and instead of heckling him, joined forces and invited him to the gym.
In a meek little voice Rick hears, "I know what your friend is going to do."
"Beg your pardon," Rick questions, right after pulling the drawstring of his laundry bag.
He beats Rick to the chase, "I've seen you on campus. You're a good soccer player, Rick."
As it happens with anyone, when you haven't properly been introduced, Rick says, "you know me. Who are you?"
He was cautious, but the shirtless campus guy not so, rushing over to say, "Callum Rice. I've been following you on the field."
Rick couldn't deny the nerd looked kind of semi-hot, so cut him a break, "oh, I don't think only on the field, 'Callum'."
Maybe not a handshake, but Callum was pleased Rick was returning a boyish smile, which led to, "I wish I could afford a trainer to work out with me."
Rick wasn't born yesterday and knowing where this was going, doesn't fuck around, "so, you want me to be your trainer, is that it?"
Pushing back, Callum pushes the middle of glasses to his face, "well, long as you're offering?"
Standing there, baffled, his lock in his hand, but staring back, "I didn't exactly put it that way and you know it, Callum?"
"Yeah, well about that," Callum rubs the middle of his slightly ginger-haired chest, hardly visible against his lily white skin, polka-dotted with red freckles, "I was trying out something I learned in business class. Failed, I guess?"
Rick had often been accused of having a wickedly cute smile, but never confronted anyone over it. Of that look on Callum's face, "nothing wrong with that. You dont try something, you don't know how it might turn out, like that really cute smile you're flashing at me?"
He couldn't believe Rick just said that!
"Really? Then you'll take me on as your student, Ricky?"
First to strike him, was the name-calling. No one had called him 'Ricky' since grade school. It tickled him, which made him project an impish smile. Under the impression Callum was about to jump forward and embrace him in thankfulnees, Rick holds up a hand, "uh, wait a minute there."
The look on Callum's face! Totally drained of happy emotion, "so you're not going to workout with me. What was that about my cute smile?"
Honestly, Rick didn't think Callum was trying to put on a performance worthy of an Oscar, but that facial expression made him feel like a gut punch to the stomach, "I didn't say that. Y'know, Callum, you have a way of jumping to conclusions and frankly the way it looks," he broke down the clinical assessment, holding his hand for a shake, "you've got a deal, but you gotta stop it with the crybaby stuff?"
"Crybaby?" Callum's face dipped into a derogatory stare.
Telling it like it is, a 'tell like it is' kind of guy, Rick says, "yeah, because you 'thought' I wasn't going to work out with you, you looked like you were going to break down and cry? Me, I can be a compassionate kind of guy, but don't go for that shit, if you know what I mean?"
"Oh that. Yeah. Force of habit. My mom used to say I did it to get my way."
"Well," Rick gives Callum a cocky look, and cutting the cutie smile dude another break, "I think it may have worked!"
It's times like these when a person is hoping for an interruption of thoughts, they hear moaing and groaning from the shower.
"Surprising," Rick speculates.
"That you thought I was going to cry?"
"No," Rick thinks of the shower scene, "that I thought it would be the other way around."
With surprise gesture, Callum says, "of?"
They both stood there, facing each other, Callum shirtless, in his shorts, Rick toweled at the waist, but instead of what they were just talking about, give ears to the sounds emanating from the end of the row of lockers.
He was sure of it, but not sure of how to put it, Callum saying, "sounds like?"
Forgetting his locker for a moment, Rick walks past Callum, towards the end of the corridor of red metal and wooden benches, "only one way to find out."
It made Callum push his glasses up on the brim of his nose, whether a sign, reaction, whatever, giving him the impulse, watching Rick's towel the way it switched this way and the other. He could feel his eyebrows go up, which only made his glasses slide down again!
Coming upon the steamy show of sex, Rick gasps, "really, Steve?"
Three showers ran full blast, even though only Steve and Jared were showering. Well, not showering right this minute. Having rolled the towel cart into the deep recesses of the steamed up room, Rick and Callum stood there, jaws dropped.
Dropped for two different reasons, Rick had always had presumptions, of which, Steve standing behind Jared's slimy bod, racked over the towel cart, holding the sides, things would pan out in a different direction. He presumed coming upon the two, Jared's shaft implanted in Steve's ass.
Of Steve pulling out and power-drilling forward, Callum could only opinion, "wow, I've never seen that before. Well, at least not in person!"
Even though his eyes were glued to Steve, grabbing Jared's hips like they were handles, pulling himself forward, Rick responds, "I thought you were in college?"
A sophomore, Callum played it cool the first year, contrary to his thoughts of busting out on the gay scene, picturing himself fucking with two or three guys a week, when in truth he hit the books and only ogled over some of his male professors, which in essence provided the relief of hot handjobs. He was massively disappointed that his room mate was straight!
"I am, but," Callum tried digging for words, the picture before him speaking louder than words.
Then Callum notices Ricky, his towel falling from his ass, as his hand starts working the front portion.
So into Jared, righteously, Steve either didn't hear Rick, or was too much involved to care.
"What are you going to do?"
Rick breaks concentration to answer Callum's question, "just doing what comes naturally," he gives him a wink.
At first Rick was feeling himself through his towel, but in hardly any time at all it was laying at his ankles.
Let alone a dude fucking another dude, live, to see Ricky fondling his cock, hand working it into a straight-out-stick, Callum says, "can I touch you?"
Rick had already formulated the impression of Callum, knowledge of all things gay, but especially, 'sex', he was raw, knowledge inconcievably void of what to do, when, where, who knows why, "I'm sure you can do much better than that, on your knees?"
That registers, Callum saying, "I thought maybe it might be the other guy?"
There was that pouty look, eyebrows bunched up, innocent look on Callum's face, Ricky gets merciful.
Knowing the signs of Steve getting close, he falls to his knees, "oh, what the hell," grabbing the front of Callum's shorts and pulling them down.
It didn't even register with Rick, how wide he would have to open to accommodate.
Callum, he didn't stop much to wonder if Rick should have a condom on, as the warm mouth engulfs his seven inches, "oh wow, Ricky!"
Something you don't realize you would ever do, until you're doing it, Rick having thoughts about the 'only' second cock he's ever sucked, moaning and groaning as Callum grows bigger and bigger inside his mouth.
"Oh shoot, Ricky!"
Pulling Callum's thick stick out, licking his lips, Rick says, "not yet, but soon," he eats the meat again.
Not a total idiot when it comes to gay sex, Callum having viewed gay porn on his PC, does what he's seen, grabs the back of Rick's head and impales him on his dick.
After a massive cough and heave, Rick comes up for air, "shit, Callum, you damned near suffocated me!"
"Oh. Sorry. Did I? I didn't mean to."
'Damn', thought Rick, that expression was so cute. "Fuck it," he says, before sucking down Callum's shaft.
Forgetting himself, everything culminating to feeling so damn good, Callum did have Ricky, a couple of more times, come up for air and curse him for cutting off the air flow.
Everything was a lot for Callum to take in, sight and sound. Steve pounding Jared, he thought the table was going to collapse, but conflicted by what Rick was doing to him, "that feels so good, Ricky."
The minute he said it, he started to howl louder than Steve, as he for the last time choked the living daylights out of Ricky!
What he didn't notice, Callum watches as Jared jerks himself off, hand under the weight of Steve lying on his back.
Paying attention once again to himself, Callum sees Rick with his back to the tiled floor, "oh man, you taste so damn good."
If he was motionless, Callum would have thought he asphyxiated Rick, but instead he lay there, left hand rubbing the goo which dribbled out of his mouth, all over his slightly haired chest, other one working his hard shaft slowly, up and down. Overcome by Ricky's comment, about providing such a wonderful, gourmet treat, "thanks!"
Falling to his knees, Callum was like a first year resident, checking out a corpse in the morgue, "you want me to do something to help?"
Hand rubbing cum and sweat into his bod, Rick still found the energy to utter, "you could help me shoot my load?"
This was the moment, what all those porn vids helped to prep him for, Callum debating whether to use his hand, mouth, or to get up and run away.
It's what high school, college or life in general never prepared him for, but if he hesitated, it might be the last time an opportunity came his way, "how do you want me, Ricky?"
It could have been that simple, Rick telling him what do, instead of, "whatever hits you."
Rick had already done most of the work, his emotions riding high, coupled with his hand riding up and down his hard shaft, mixing in Callum's spunk and sweat, greasing his spike to the point that it was almost that time, "but you better hurry."
Bad enough Ricky had coaxed him on, but to deliver the ultimatum, "okay. I can do this."
The last porn video, regarding such, the dude wasn't at the guy's side, but coming at him right up the middle. Switching himself around, Callum climbs over Rick's leg and plops his knees down right in the middle, pushing legs apart.
All the time, Callum is repeating, "I can do this, I can do this."
Sounds escalate, Rick starting to buck hips upwards, "getting close, so close," he's almost inherent in his thinking and feeling."
"I'm coming...fucking coming!"
Before he had a choice, not taking it, Callum taking it like Ricky's revenge. He was so close to just opening his mouth, placing it over the tip and going down, when a pair of hands reach out.
Grabbing him by the sides of the head, Rick pulls Callum into his crotch and with massive moans and growns works him like a guy's ass.
Except, Callum didn't need to endure what Ricky felt at the mercy of his hands.
Already primed for the final moment, Callum didn't feel lodged in his throat long, having swallowed and swallowed, and swallowed more, and more, until the pair of hands releases his head.
No porn video came to mind as Callum, choking and exhausted, falls forwards onto Rick's bod, feeling goo and man meat under his chest. He then realizes, instead of some ordeal, a feeling of pleasure, having warm sap fill his mouth and for the first time in his life, lying on a man's chest.
For the first time, Steve realizes Rick being present, stepping over the two, "what the fuck, Rick?"
But he didn't really care, not with Jared's arm over his shoulder, caressing his neck, applauding him with praise.
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% Copyright 2022 T. Chase McPhee Developing segments of 'OFfiCe JOckS FoR DOmiNaTiOn' may not be amended, distributed, sold, used, quoted, paraphrased, chopped, sliced, diced, nor made part of any collection, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the author. Drones are prohibited from overhead viewing. _ Check here that you are not a robot.