The Better Man

The Better Man

By yfnsp

I was having trouble falling asleep. I kept going over the events of the evening in my mind. It had been a noisy party, much more crowded than usual for a trade-related event. But the conversation, the one occurrence I kept replaying, had been perfectly clear. "I'm looking you over as a possible acquisition," he said. The more I thought about it, the odder it sounded in my mind's ear. And there was something in his voice, and in his eyes it seemed as I ruminated, that had unsettled me.

Let me back up. This bash was the annual party put on by the biggest title company in town for all the local real estate brokers and their plus-ones. It was the fifth of these I've attended since getting my license and it was the biggest turnout by far - it's been a good year for real estate. The crowd was loud and boisterous and I was having a good time. Although I'm one of the youngest brokers in town, there were a lot of people I knew there and I was enjoying introducing them to my beautiful wife, Anna. There were a few new faces there too and I noticed in particular a tall, distinguished looking man who had attracted a group of people who seemed to be hanging on his every word.

Anyway, here's what happened. I make a trip to the crowded bar - did I mention the open bar? - leaving Anna chatting with a couple we both know. When I finally get my order, it takes me a couple of minutes to locate my wife. I finally spot her on the far side of the large ballroom. She's standing next to that new guy we had noticed earlier. He's leaning toward her as if he's whispering in her ear. I lose sight of them as I navigate through the crowd and when I get to the spot I was aiming for, she's not there. So I'm standing there with a drink in each hand, both of which I'd managed to keep from spilling so far, and craning my neck around, searching, when an elbow out of nowhere jostles me just enough to slosh G&T out of both glasses.

"Oops! Sorry!" the owner of the elbow says, and I see it's the guy who had been talking to my wife. And before I can say anything, he says, "Say, you're Jack Hausmann, aren't you?" He sounds a little tipsy, so I just nod and continue looking for Anna, but he keeps talking as if we're old friends or something. He does look familiar, though I'm sure we've never met before. Anyway, the next thing he says is, "You're one lucky guy, Jack. That wife of yours is by far the most beautiful woman here!" I turn to stare at him - he's starting to piss me off - but he's beaming at me with a big disarming smile and, with a friendly hand on my shoulder, he leans in. And that's when he says, "I'm looking you over as a possible acquisition." That's when I spot Anna, all the way on the other side of the room by the exit. She's got her coat on and is obviously looking for me. Our eyes meet and I see she's upset, so I park the drinks on the first horizontal surface I can find and I forge a path to her side.

"What's the matter?" I ask as soon as we're face to face. "Wanna leave?"

"Yeah, can we go?"

"Sure, honey. Did something happen?"

"No, not really... I'm just tired... too noisy... Can we just go home?"

I open the door for her and take her arm as we walk to the elevator and back to the car. When we get home, we just go to bed. Whatever is bothering her, I figure she'll tell me if I need to know, but I also know she's not in the mood for sex, so I let her go to sleep. And I start to wonder if it was the guy she was talking to that had upset her.

So this is what was on my mind, keeping me awake that night. Eventually I too fell asleep, having decided there's no sense in dwelling on something said by a stranger who was probably drunk.

When I got to the office in the morning, I discovered why that guy had looked familiar. There he was, staring at me from the cover of the local business magazine that had been sitting on my desk for a couple of days. "Mason Herrscher's Plans for Growth" was the featured article. I picked it up and read through it. Apparently, this Herrscher guy had entered the local commercial market a year ago. He was now the biggest in the city, and was now setting his sights on the residential market, too, with plans for a huge suburban development. So that's what he meant about "acquiring" me, I figured. Fine, let him make an offer I can't refuse.

It was a busy morning followed by lunch with a client, and I was on my way back to the office when I got a call from Anna around 1:30. "Jack, can you come home?" She sounded really upset again.

"What's the matter, honey? You sound upset. Did something happen?" I responded. She had seemed fine at breakfast.

"I... I can't talk about it on the phone. Just, can you come home now?" Her voice was shaky, on the verge of tears.

"Sure, hun, I'm in the car now. I'll be there in like ten minutes."

When I arrived, she met me at the door and stepped up to hug me before I was through the door. She was either grieving or livid. After a good long squeeze, I held her at arms length so I could see her face, tearstained, but with anger, it seemed. "What is it?!' I asked anxiously.

"It's that man. He was here. The man from the party? Last night?" She searched my face for understanding.

"You mean Mason Herrscher? He was here?" I asked, incredulous.

"Yes, I think that's who he said - the real estate guy. He said something about acquiring us... he was looking around like he was going to buy our house. I asked him to leave and he made a pass at me."

"He did what?!"

"He said something about making babies... Jack, it was really weird!" She looked in my eyes. "I told him to leave. I was furious! And he did leave, but he was acting like everything was... well, like we were best friends or something... Like, 'Bye for now. See you soon.' It totally creeped me out!"

By this point I was in a rage myself. 'What the fucking hell does he think he's doing?' I asked myself and I vowed to put a stop to it whatever it was. I took out my phone to google him and I called his business number. I told the receptionist my name and asked for him, but he was out, working from home, she said. I checked the google results again; there was no other phone number, but I found his home address, only a couple of miles away - I recognized the address.

"Don't worry, honey," I said to Anna, "I'll straighten him out! I'm going over to his house. You stay here. Call me if he shows up again."

I don't remember the drive. I may have been speeding; I was certainly in an aggressive state, rehearsing what I was going to say before I punched the asshole's lights out. I arrived at the luxury condominium complex - I knew how expensive it was because I'd sold several units myself - and I found a parking spot near his apartment. I ran up the stairs and pounded on his door, breathing fire. I waited several long seconds and then pounded again.

The door finally opened, and there he was, bare-chested, wearing only a pair of shorts and gym shoes, with a towel over his shoulder.

"What were you doing at my house? What did you say to my wife?" I shouted at him. My fists were clenched; my whole body was tensed, ready to attack.

"Jack!" Mason said with a big friendly grin, completely ignoring my questions. "What a surprise! Do come in." He stepped aside, inviting me to enter.

I stepped into the doorway, but only far enough to stand toe to toe with him and shout up into his face, repeating myself threateningly, "What did you say to my wife?"

"Calm down, Jack. It was just a friendly..."

I swung a fist at his head, but he sidestepped neatly and my knuckles slammed into the door. He backpedaled deftly and I lunged at him again, throwing all my weight into a roundhouse punch that he easily dodged so that I lost my balance and fell. As I scrambled back to my feet, he remained perfectly composed. "Now, Jack, is this really necessary?" he asked, infuriating me even further, if that was possible.

"You son of a bitch!" I yelled and threw myself at him for an open-field tackle. He spun, grabbed my right arm and landed me face down on the floor with my arm behind my back and his weight on top of me.

"Really, Jack, I am impressed. Such passion!" He chuckled lightly. "I admire your courage, coming against me mano a mano, like that. Did you really think you could beat me up?"

I squirmed and struggled, but he just grabbed my other arm, holding them both behind my back, pressing my chest into the floor. I pushed and pulled, I tried to turn left and right. If only I could turn over! I was grunting and gasping, sweating, using every ounce of my strength, but he just held me there, sitting on my legs with my arms pinned back until at last, after what seemed like an eternity of effort, I was exhausted and in tears. Tears of frustration and the utter humility of being helpless.

He felt me relax and go limp, my strength and will depleted. Pinning my arms at my side, he lay on top of me, covering me and pressing me into the hardwood floor with his entire body. In my exhausted state it was all I could do to breathe with all his weight on me. He whispered in my ear, his hot breath tickling me, "Easy, boy. Take it easy, now. Everything's going to be fine. I only wanted to help you out... We have a great opportunity here..."

I had given up. My face was wet with tears, my nose was running. As he was talking - was it his tone of voice or just my exhaustion? - I felt all my rage dissipate and a sense of peace come over me. Despite his weight on my back, I found I was breathing easier now. In fact, his weight began to feel more like a balm than a threat, no longer oppressive but almost reassuring, as if he were protecting me. There was something warm and intimate about his posture, lying on me like that.

I had lost. I had surrendered. In some way it felt like I had surrendered myself. To him. It was completely humiliating. But, oddly, it had an intoxicating effect, like an opiate, and I realized that I was beginning to enjoy the feeling of his strength holding me down, pressing my body into the floor. I could feel his groin pressing into my ass. It seemed to be wedged right into my ass-crack. The pressure on my cock, pressed tightly against the hard floor was making it swell. Feeling it stiffen made me conscious of his cock, there, above me. Behind me. His cock. The conqueror, my oppressor's cock, pressing into the crack of my ass. Or was I just imagining it?

A small portion of my strength having returned, I squirmed a little to get my hard-on better aligned under me. My movement must have pressed my ass back against Mason, because his soft voice came again, murmuring in my ear, "Hmm, you like that?" And I felt, distinctly now, the shape of his long, thick cock pressing down, parting the cheeks of my ass. For some reason, it did not repulse me. Quite the opposite, in fact. It felt reassuring, as if to say, 'It's okay, see? I like you; I won't hurt you.'

He continued to speak quietly in my ear as he held me immobile beneath him. "That's better. Yes, relax, that's it..." His breath was warm in my ear. "I have big plans, Jack, plans that include you." He chuckled softly. "I was going to offer you a position under me... but this isn't exactly what I had in mind." I stifled a groan as I perceived his irony. "Not that I mind, though" he went on "I kind of like you like this."

He pressed his pelvis forward, pushing his now enormous erection hard against my perineum and along my entire ass-crack. I squirmed under this gentle assault, trying to resist, but unsure whether I really was resisting, as a part of my mind insisted I should. "Yeah, buddy, that feels good," my oppressor whispered breathily in my ear.

"Nooo..." I tried to deny both his words and the wave of pleasure that surged through my cock as his erection settled in, fitting itself snugly into my crack, pushing my cheeks apart and pressing hard against my tender virgin anus. He rocked his pelvis back and then forward again, creating more friction, through his pants and mine, on my sensitive anal flesh and causing my cock to compress thrillingly against the hard floor within the already confining layers of my boxers and my trousers. "Nooo," I moaned again, futilely, as I felt, with a surprising detachment, like observing from afar, the crazy tremors of an orgasmic eruption in my pants. My cock exploded in four... five... six mad spurts of hot, thick ejaculate.

Mason, feeling my spasms, simultaneously squeezed me tighter with his arms and rocked his pelvis back, lessening the pressure on my ass and cock but, in the process, he teased my tingling ass-flesh with another stroke of friction. "That's it!" he whispered, "Let it go." He and I both felt my body shudder in orgasmic abandon. He continued to hold me like that for a couple of minutes, I guess, until my breathing returned to normal.

"Wow, Jack, that was pretty amazing," Mason said, rolling off of me and getting to his feet. He reached a hand out to me as I turned over, an offer to help me up. "That was unexpected!" He smiled at me as I took the proffered hand and stood up. "But I'm really glad it happened." He picked up the towel and bent down to wipe up the wet spot my face had made on the floor. "It might actually help, too..." he continued, straightening up and looking at me. "We're talking about an acquisition, but what I have in mind is a lot like a partnership." He put his hand on my shoulder to steer me. "Come with me; I want to show you something."

I'm sure my face was red with shame. I felt so completely humiliated. I glanced down and saw what I felt: a big spreading wet spot in the front of my pants. Not only had I been beaten in a fight, but I had been sexually aroused by it! 'What the fuck is wrong with me?' I thought, 'I'm not gay!' My humiliation was made even more acute by the fact that I had cum! And the fact that Mason knew it!

I glanced at him as he turned toward the doorway, calm and collected. 'He must know how humiliated I am,' I thought, and yet he was acting as if nothing unusual had happened. As I followed him, tall and imposing, even half-dressed as he was, I felt a sense of relief. I was thankful that he hadn't ridiculed me, that he wasn't torturing me in my disgrace. After all, I had assaulted him! I had meant him grievous bodily harm. He could have me arrested and thrown in jail. I was deeply ashamed. I admired his composure and was grateful for it. I followed him, walking behind his straight, muscled back, noting how it tapered so elegantly into his well fitting shorts.

We walked from the foyer, through an expansive living room, as he spoke in a completely natural conversational tone. "We'll talk about the details later, but I'm proposing to foot the bill to have a valuation of your company done and then buy you out at market value. I want to use your company's holdings... and you... to give me a dominant position in the residential market here."

He paused a step to let me catch up to him and, turning to face me, he continued, "I've been impressed with your operations. And with you." He ignored my blushing. "I'm thinking that when the acquisition is complete and fully integrated, I would move you over to be the director of operations for the entire company." He smiled at my awed expression. "Now, before you say anything, keep in mind that you would be paid a salary and bonuses commensurate with that role. And that's on top of the lump-sum payment for buying the shares of your company."

I was surprised, to say the least. My mind began to race, calculating the financial benefits, while my heart was still fluttering with the emotional mix of shame and relief. Not to mention, the uncertainty: who was this man? why should I trust him?

We had crossed the living room entered a doorway into what looked like his private gym. Along one wall was a rack with weights of all sizes and there were several pieces of exercise equipment spaced around the room. The opposite wall was a giant mirror; it was covered, floor to ceiling, by mirror panels, giving the illusion of an enormous space. He turned us to face the mirror.

"Here's what I want to show you." Our reflections stood side by side, surprisingly similar. He looked like a slightly larger, more mature version of me. Not that our facial features were all that much alike, but our build, coloring, and proportions looked oddly congruent. Of course, he was half naked and I was fully dressed... As if reading my mind, he said, "Let's get those clothes off." And he actually reached over and began to loosen my tie.

If I hadn't still been in a kind of daze, I would have thought it bizarrely inappropriate. But I was kind of in awe of him and so swept up by his optimism and his positive energy that I was seemingly helplessly buoyed along in its wake. I stood there like a child, as he unbuttoned my shirt. I took over at that point and removed my shirt and undershirt so that I would be bare-chested like him, and turned to lay them on the nearby weight bench. Turning back, I found that Mason had removed his shoes and was taking off his shorts. So I undid my pants, took off my shoes ad socks and slipped my pants and underwear off too. We were both naked. I had no idea why, I just felt that I owed him my compliance, obedience even. Were we going to have sex? After what had already occurred, it wouldn't have surprised me.

Now our reflections, side by side, were naked. Again, the similarities between us were apparent. Add two inches to my height, a little grey at the temples, and turn the slightly softer contours of my torso to chiseled pecs and abs and you'd practically have twins. I looked at his cock in the mirror. Unlike mine, it was flaccid, hanging loosely, rather impressively, I thought, between his muscular thighs, over his also low-hanging balls. A beautiful package. (Did I actually think that?) Mine was stiff, pointing straight out - damned if I know why - but his, even though soft, looked just as long and a little thicker too.

Mason put his arm around my shoulder and drew me closer so our shoulders touched. "We're a lot alike, you and I," he said, "Do you see that?"

"Yes, I noticed that before," I replied with as respectful a tone as I could render, "but you're bigger... And stronger," I added.

"True," Mason confirmed, "In fact, I'm better in almost any way you want to measure." He was staring straight into my reflected eyes.

"Better?" I asked, feeling stupid for saying it aloud.

"Sure," he said matter-of-factly. "Taller, stronger, richer, smarter, better educated, more successful..." He turned to face me; his expression was kind despite his sober words, which I couldn't refute. "But you're a good man. I've done my homework; I know you're just the man to help me reach my goals." He had a hand on each of my shoulders now as we faced each other. "Are you willing to give it your consideration?" he asked, giving my shoulders a gentle squeeze.

"Uh... yes," came my rather halting reply. I was confused, feeling humiliated but also complimented, and I had been disarmed by the somewhat comradely intimacy of the moment. "Sure... Of course. I'll think it over and discuss it with my wife." At the mention of my wife, I had a twinge of guilt, and I looked at Mason to gauge his reaction, but saw none.

"Good, good," he said beaming his charming smile. "That's all I'm asking."

His smile seemed to take a rakish turn. "Well, that's maybe not all..." He reached for his cock and held it out. It was bigger than before. "Maybe you'd like to return the favor?" It was clearly just a question, not a demand. Up to me to decide. I knew he was referring to the fact I had cum and he hadn't. The odd thing was that, although I had never had a gay thought in my life, I was actually attracted to his cock, so like mine in all its proportions, just substantially larger! Plus, whether it was reasonable or not, I felt deeply beholden to him, not only because he had forgiven my foolish attack and my humiliating defeat, but now also for the implicit compliment he had given me in his business proposal. And I was aroused - who can say why?. But how could I reciprocate? What should I do?