Author's Note:
This chapter has been in my drive for too long. I had plans to finish it, but life got in the way. I'm not sure when I will return to the story but want to move on with other series that interests me too. Plus, this was getting a little long anyway. So here is the next chapter in the story. Sorry if it ends a little suddenly, but it's still a sexy one. I hope you enjoy!
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As each day went by President May was slowly introducing me to what it meant to be his boy. There was a weekday morning routine that we established. We would get up at 6:30am. I would head to the kitchen and begin cooking breakfast (in a jock and tight fitting t-shirt only) while President May would shower and get dressed for the day. My goal was to have a plate ready for him when he walked into the kitchen. He would be dressed to the nines with his suit pants and vest on and sit down at the table where a coffee cup and the day's paper were already waiting for him. I would pour him a cup of coffee and serve him breakfast. Only when he had everything would I sit down and eat as well. When it was time for him to leave for work I would help him into his suit jacket and walk him out the door. We had this routine where he would like me to kiss him goodbye, except it wasn't your typical goodbye kiss. He would have me get on my knees and kiss the point of his bulge. He'd turn around, and I'd kiss his covered ass too. He'd give me special instructions for the day if there were any and then head out the door for work.
It was then my task to clean up the kitchen, get showered, and ready for work as well. It was a humbling way to start the day but a great one.
(Now sometimes this routine would be changed up a bit if President May would want me to shower with him. This would be those mornings when he was in a frisky mood and wanted me to wash him and give him a morning blow job. On these mornings, since I couldn't make him breakfast, he would either grab something quick at the university kitchen or have me deliver him something later on when I got to work).
I would get home from work between 4:00 - 4:30 except on days when I had a late afternoon class (then it would be closer to 5:00). I would begin cooking dinner with the goal of having it ready when President May got home. Sometimes I would luck out if President May wanted to eat out, but most weeknights he liked a healthy home cooked meal. I was not the best cook but was slowly expanding my repertoire. President May got home around 5:45 - 6:00. I'd hopefully be at a stopping point in the cooking process (or ideally finished and be able to place the food in the warmer) and would take his jacket for him and hang it in his closet. I'd walk back into the living room and find President May relaxing on his recliner flipping through the channels on the TV. I'd ask him what he wanted to drink. He'd normally ask for a beer but sometimes wanted water. After serving his drink I'd then kneel down at his feet and take off his shoes. Next, I'd move upwards and unbuckle his belt and pull down his zipper. He'd spread his legs wide for me and I would dive in first running my nose all around his big bulge. Once President May became hard I'd slip the head of his cock through the opening of his boxer briefs (no-fly Tommy Johns) and give him a nice after work blow job. All this was done with no words spoken except for the drink order (or if he wanted me to strip down to my jock). It was a routine - what was expected of me. And I absolutely loved it! Then, of course, after pleasuring President May orally we would both sit down and have our meal.
That's how the first week played out anyway. It was perhaps the best week of my life up to that point. I was all smiles everywhere I went. In fact, on Thursday morning when I was walking with Dean Parsons to our weekly Thursday racquetball match, he commented on the perpetual good mood I was in.
"What is tickling your stomach so much this week?"
"What? Oh, nothing. I've just been in a good mood, I guess." But his expression told me he wasn't buying my answer. He knew there was more to it.
"I did well on your exam this week." I offered. "Maybe that's what it is." I had been taking one of Dean Parsons grad courses this semester and was enjoying it greatly. Mainly because it gave me yet another chance to ogle at Dean Parsons and his big body.
"I can't believe you would lie to me, John! I know that smile on anybody. That's not a 'I did well on an exam' smile. No, no, my friend. I think little Johnny is in love!"
I dragged my toe along the ground and tripped. I recovered my balance and said, "I don't know what you mean."
"Don't bullshit me, John. Your secret is safe with me." He patted me on the shoulder as we neared our racquetball court.
"Secret? What secret?" I was doing my best to play dumb.
"We all have secrets, John. And you, my friend, happen to have a big secret. A secret of a...how shall we call it? Ah yes! A secret of a presidential level."
My eyes flew wide open. I choked on my own spit. He knew! How?
Dean Parsons put his arm around me and pulled me in close. "Don't worry, John. President May and I are very close. I won't tell anyone. You can trust me." He slapped me on the chest and let me go.
I didn't say anything. I didn't know what story I could make up. Besides, it was clear he was confident in his knowledge. We arrived at the door to our court a few steps later.
"I just forgot." I exclaimed. "I need to make a quick phone call. I'll be back in just a second." When the door closed, I ran to the nearest exit and pulled out my phone. Stepping outside I called President May.
"Hello," came the President's voice in a jovial phone.
"Hey," I said out of breath, "I'm with Dean Parsons right now and..."
"John, where are your manners, son?"
"Sorry Sir. Hello, Sir."
"There, that's much better." I could hear the satisfaction in his voice.
"Sir, I'm with Dean Parsons right now, and he...he knows that-"
"That you and I are in a relationship."
"Yes! You knew?"
"Of course, I knew. I'm the one that told him."
"You told him? What! Why?"
"Young man, watch your tone."
"Sorry Sir. I mean, why did you tell him?"
"John, Rick is one of my best friends. Of course, I told him. Don't worry about it. You can trust the Dean."
My mind was still racing, and I was still breathing heavily.
"John, my boy, relax. It's okay. He isn't going to tell anybody. Plus, I have more to lose from this relationship than you. That should tell you how much I trust the man."
That did make sense. I started to feel more at ease with this new development.
"Who else knows?" I asked.
"Sorry, John. I've to go. My appointment is waiting on me. Relax and have fun with your game. Use it to blow the Dean - I mean, blow off some steam." I forced a laugh at his joke. He said a quick goodbye and hung up the phone. I joined Dean Parsons on the court moments later.
The first two games went by pretty quickly. Normally, I would be able to get the better of the dean given my youth and athletic advantage, but I was off my game today. He beat me 15-8 and 15-7. We shook hands, and I lined up to serve and start the next one. We normally played three depending on the time.
"Not yet, John. Let's take a quick break. Have a seat with me." He motioned to the far corner. He took a seat on the side wall while I sat against the back wall. His stomach heaved in and out against his tight blue shirt as he tried to catch his breath. The matching blue shorts were riding up on him revealing more of his hairy thighs that I had been staring at all day. 'So freaking masculine', I thought. I licked my lips looking at the former linebacker.
"You're getting better." I said.