THE SQUEAK By John Candu
My antique desk chair developed a squeak. It's past quitting time but I waste a few minutes searching drawers and file cabinets before finding a can of machine oil. I turn the ancient swivel chair upside down and coat the rusty brown mechanism until it glistens.
Still it squeaks.
I add more oil.
Again, more squeaks.
Smith enters. "What's with the chair, boss?"
"The god-damned squeak is chewing my last nerve. Lend a hand."
We turn the thing right-side up and I hand Smith the can.
"I'll just rock back and forth. You squirt where you think it squeaks. Watch your fingers -- keep 'em outa the open springs."
Smith gets down on all fours in front of me, I brace my feet on the wooden base and nudge the seat back and forth.
Superintendent Colon Payne enters unnoticed. He freezes in the doorway.
What he sees: Smith on his knees with his head and shoulders blocked by the desk. And me, facing Smith, rocking the chair.
What he hears: "Skree, skree, skree." And: "Good job Smith. A little more. Almost there. Careful -- keep the spurts off the carpet."
I detect movement and see Payne.
"Hello Dr. Payne. We're... ah, come in."
Payne is beet red and clearly furious. He turns and stomps from the office.
"Smith, move your fingers away from the springs, I gotta get up."
"What?"
"I've gotta get up!"
"Hold on a second boss, I think I've located the squeak."
"Move! NOW!"
I leap-frog over Smith's back and race to the hall. Through the front door I see Payne in his Volvo, slamming the door and gunning the engine. Before I get to the door, Payne is spewing gravel and speeding from the lot.
I'm wondering what's gotten into the man as Smith steps to my side.
"I think I found the noise, boss. Just leave the chair ass-up overnight to keep stains off the floor."
"That's it! SHIT!"
"What?"
"Payne thinks he caught us in an immoral act."
"Huh?"
I explain it to him. Payne looks at me stupidly, shrugs, says, "Aw, nah... He couldn't thing THAT. Could he?"
I brush past him to the office, pick up the phone and punch in the Superintendent's number. I tell the secretary I need Payne's cell phone number.
"Sorry sir, you know I can't give it out. But I can call him for you."
"Okay. Tell him to call me immediately at the school -- it's urgent!"
"He may be on his way home, it's so late in the day. You might have to try again tomorrow."
I slam down the phone and pace. I'm thinking I'm lucky this didn't happen with school in session.
Smith shuffles up behind me. "Dr. Payne is a reasonable man. I'm sure we can clear it up," he says. "He'll laugh when he hears what really happened."
"Look, Smith -- " Then I pause to control my temper. "I'm sure you're right. Why don't you call it a day and let me handle this. I might call on you tomorrow to help convince him."
The phone rings as Smith leaves. It's Payne's secretary. I'm to report to the Superintendent's office immediately, she says.
"I'll leave the office door unlocked -- just go on back. He says he's expecting you."
I jump into my red Saturn and screech from the lot. I cover the distance in record time and park in the yellow zone at the front door. My heart's pounding as I take the outside steps three at a time. I yank open the glass door and race up a flight of stairs and stop in front of the Superintendent's door. My mouth is dry and I'm winded. I pause a moment to get hold of myself. I take a sip from the water fountain. My pulse begins to slow. I twist the door knob, praying that it's locked.
The office lobby is dark but I see a streak of light beneath Payne's door. I pad across the thick carpet and knock lightly.
"Yeah!" Payne growls.
I enter the spacious office and Payne is scribbling, not even looking up. I walk to the front of his desk and wait.
Still eyeing the paperwork, he says, "I've seen a lot of things in my career, but never anything like this. Are you stupid or are you deliberately throwing your life into the gutter?"
I take a deep breath and think carefully about what to say, where to begin. I study Payne's balding head and freckled arms. He's in his late 40s but athletic, an avid tennis player. My mind is blank. I look around me. The room looks more like a corporate CEO's throne room than a rural school superintendent's office.
Payne pulls open his middle desk drawer and pulls out a memo. He leans back in his massive green leather chair and glowers at me. He drops his hands out of view in his lap and is quiet a moment.
Then: "Give me one reason not to fire you two assholes! All I have to do is sign this memo and you'll have to vacate your office immediately."
"It's a misunderstanding, sir.... Smith was oiling my springs and --"
"Damn it! Now you're insulting me sir! Do I look like a fool to you?"
Before I can answer, Payne stands. His hard cock, at least 8 inches of stiff meat, is jutting proudly from his trousers.
"If you're smart, you will handle this head on like a man, know what I mean?"
Payne gasped as I took the head of his cock into my mouth and expertly ran my tongue around his crown.
"Damn that's good. You're experienced, I see."
I jack his shaft with one hand and unbuckle his pants with the other. Then I pull down his boxers and cup his balls. Payne pounds into my mouth and throat and I feel my own cock begging for freedom. I don't hear the door open behind me. Smith startles me as he steps beside Payne and squeezes the Superintendent's nipple through his shirt. Soon we're all naked and the front door is locked.
I'm sitting on Smith's face, feeling his tongue alternate between my asshole, balls and prick. I'm grunting as I suck Payne's man-meat down my throat. Payne is gripping the back of my head and sliding into me forcefully. His pre-cum tastes salty-sweet.
Payne pulls out of my mouth and Smith takes his place. Smith's uncircumcised cock is smaller than Payne's and easier to swallow. I sense that Smith is about to cum, so I pick up the pace. He fucks my face in a frenzy. Behind me, I feel the head of Payne's cock at my tiny pucker, then he presses against my sphincter muscles. I lean into his thrust and yell in pain as his cock enters me, lumbering over my prostate. Smith grabs my head again and slams his cock into me.
Pushing deeper, Payne is rearranging my guts. He's dry-fucking me, and I'm certain I will bleed. But I'm getting into the pain and pleasure and am moving my man-pussy against him harder. He grunts and pushes hard again and again, sinking his shaft into me slowly, and soon I feel his balls against me. I feel like I'm splitting open inside, but I move back and forth over his cock. My cock is hard as a diamond. As he pushes again, I reach behind me and tug on his ass cheek as I suck on Smith's shaft and work his cockhead with my tongue in a steady rhythm.
The ass-fucking gets more intense. Each thrust feels as if he's tearing me apart and tears of pleasure stream down my face. I am moaning in delight and helping him sink it deeper. Smith's precum tastes so good, and his pounding tells me he's about to shoot. My own cock remains untouched, but Payne's studmeat is bringing me close. My ass feels so good, so full. It's so hot to be packed full -- being used like this man's property, to do with as he will. In and out, harder he goes. Payne gasps louder and then yells, and I suddenly feel full deep inside. Smith spurts shot after shot of thick hot cum. My cock blasts wads of cum, bathing Smith's legs and feet.
Payne pulls his long pole from my bloody asshole. I'm disappointed and lead back against his deflating meat. My asshole is open and leaking his cum.
Smith's dick is going soft as well, and I reluctantly give it up. Strings of cum hang from his cock to my lips and snap as he pulls away.
Payne walks to his desk and plops into his leather chair. It squeaks.
Smith and I look at each other and smile.
"This time, I'll spurt the oil." ------------------------------------------- Send comments to: too_hot_in_bama@hotmail.com