Burnout

I had an MBA from Leighton Business School, the finest in the country. I had had the highest grades in the whole class, and it should have been a slam dunk that I would get a top job in a major corporation. It should have been. Kathy and I had gotten married on that supposition. We had had our two children, Leonard and Lydia, on that supposition. But, no. I had only received offers from small companies who were not paying all that much. We were just scraping by.

I hated my assistant manager job in the financial department at Reed and Fields, the shoe company. They worked me long hours in a dingy uncongenial office where I was little more than a bookkeeper. My only consolation was to return home at the end of the day to our modest little house and spend an hour or two playing with my children before we had to put them to bed.

Then Kathy and I would go to our own room and close the door. And no matter how tired I was, we would fuck like crazy for an hour or so before drifting off. I was generally depressed, but my wonderful wife and children kept me sane. Years went by and I kept applying for different positions in better companies, but I was always passed over. Somehow the chairman of the board's nephew always got the job instead of me.

I had given my resume to a headhunter who was trying to find a better position for me, but so far nothing.

And then one day something happened. He called me on my job.

"Grand International Pharmaceuticals is looking to fill a position in the financial department. I told them you were just the guy for the job. They want to meet you."

"Really?" I asked. My heart jumped inside my three-button suit.

"Really," he told me. "It's amazing. There aren't that many good positions around, but Grand International is always hiring. Someone is always retiring."

"Great," I told him. "When can we schedule an interview?"

"I told them you had a good job right now and you didn't want your present company to know that you were looking, so they agreed to meet with you on Saturday morning at eleven. Is that all right with you?"

"That's all right with me," I assured him, and my heart gave another little jump. "Where do I go?"

He gave me the address and told me I was to see a Mr. Wally Marshall, and that the security people would know who I was when I got there, and direct me. This was so exciting. The minute I got home from work I told Kathy.

"Oh, honey, that's so wonderful. I hope you get it. You deserve it."

I did deserve it. I was so hopeful that my heart was leaping in my chest. (I had taken off my three-button suit.) That night Kathy and I made love with a new enthusiasm.

I had a good feeling about this. Even as I drove to the interview, I felt that the job was mine. I got to the Grand International Headquarters out on highway I 85. It was an enormous imposing edifice. I had often admired it while driving past it. I had often wished that I worked in those glamorous offices. It was well known that Grand International being a major Fortune 500 Company, was a fantastic place to work, and that they hired only the best. They did not stint when it came to their offices or their staff. Why would they have to stint, when they were charging so much for their patented drugs? I wanted in there. Badly.

Since it was Saturday, there were not a lot of cars in their large parking lot, so I was able to park fairly near the front entrance. An armed guard admitted me into the lobby. I told him who I was and that I was there to see Mr. Wally Marshall in regard to interviewing for a position with the Corporation. He called upstairs and I saw him nodding his head.

He led me to a bank of elevators. "Take the elevator up to the eighteenth floor," he told me. "Room 1847. They're waiting for you."

Riding up in the elevator my heart was hammering in my freshly pressed grey suit under my three-button jacket. I was wearing a starched white shirt, and a tasteful grey and red tie. I felt I looked very corporate.

I got to room 1847 and opened the door. There were three men facing me behind a large conference table. They were casually dressed in sports shirts, with the top button undone. I was dressed totally wrong. My heart plunged eighteen stories down to the lobby.

"Greg is it?" asked the man in the center.

"Yes," I said. "Greg Parsons."

I walked up to the table and he stood up to shake my hand. "Good to meet you, Greg. I'm Wally Marshall, head of product development." And he gestured to the man first on his right and then on his left as he introduced them, and they stood up to shake my hand over the table. The one on his right was Wilson Campbell, head of advertising, and the one on his left (or my right) was Craig Hanson, head of accounting. They motioned for me to sit in the single chair on my side of the table.

They were all robust healthy looking guys in their early forties. They all had ruddy faces, as if they had been in the sun or playing golf, and they all had healthy heads of hair. Was the anti-baldness drug one of theirs? I couldn't remember.

"So what can you tell us about yourself?" asked Wally. I told him what he probably already knew from my resume, about my schooling and my current position.

"And why do you want to work for Grand International?" Asked Craig Hanson, smiling at me and showing an even row of dazzling white teeth. He was very good looking. They were all very good looking. Well so was I.

"Everyone knows that Grand International is probably the best company on the globe to work for. I've always wanted to work here. I can't believe there's an opening."

"Yes. We have openings every now and then," said Wilson and he and Wally looked at each other and smiled. "Sometimes the job just gets so intense that people burn out. I hope you won't burn out if we hire you, Greg."

"I won't," I assured him.

"You seem like a well-spoken, good-looking young guy. Just the kind of guy that we're looking for at Grand International. You fit the company image, all right," said Wally. "But at Grand International, we're a team. All the parts fit. We work together and we play together. Do you think you can handle that?" He asked.

"I know I could," I assured him. "If I am hired, I will give my heart and my soul to Grand International."

"We'll be counting on you to keep your word," said Craig. "You know what the job pays, Greg?"

"Yes," I told him. I knew. And it was unbelievable. Five times what I was now making.

"So you really want this job?" asked Wally. He knew I really wanted it. Was he torturing me?

"Yes, I do," I said as sincerely as I possibly could. "If I am hired, I promise to give my all to Grand International."

"Well. That's just the kind of guy we're looking for," said Wilson. "What do you say, guys?" he asked Wally and Craig. "Should we give Greg here the chance to do his best for Grand International?"

"I like what I see," said Craig. "I say 'yes.'"

"And I second that motion," said Wally. "Okay, Greg. You now work for Grand International. When can you start?" I could hardly believe it. After all these years of drudgery and bad pay, I was about to get the job of a lifetime.

"I should give them some notice at Reed and Fields. I mean it just wouldn't be right to quit over the weekend."

They were very understanding and completely behind my decision to give two weeks notice, and I would start at Grand International on Monday the Fifth of October, in two weeks and two days time.

I left the office a little early every day once I had given my notice, so I had more time to spend with the kids. And Kathy and I were so happy. You could tell by our lovemaking. The house was full of joy.

On Monday, October Fifth, I put on casual wear instead of a three-button suit, and drove to my new office. The parking lot was very full now, and I had to park way out and walk a long way to the building. It was the same guard (his nametag said Roscoe). He recognized me, and knew that I had been hired. He congratulated me and shook my hand. I would be working under Craig Hanson, in the accounting department on the fifteenth floor. He sent me up to Craig Hanson's office. Room 1512.

I took the elevator up and walked down the long hall. Men passed me. Young, good-looking men, just like me. I guess I really did fit the Corporate image. As a matter of fact I didn't see any women at all. When I entered room 1512, I was greeted by a handsome young male secretary, whose nametag said 'Steve.' He phoned into the inner office and told Craig that I had arrived.

He ushered me into Craig's private office. It was spectacular. Large, with deep armchairs and an enormous mahogany desk, behind which Craig was sitting. He motioned me into one of the chairs."

"Are you ready to give your heart and soul to Grand International?" he kidded me.

"I really am," I said, but I wasn't kidding.

He took me down to room 1508 which was to be my own office. It was not as grand as Craig's, but it was magnificent. Spacious, well-lit. I also had a large mahogany desk and deep armchairs. Craig sat me in front of the computer and opened up the company's financial documents. These numbers were what I would be working on.

Every day around one o'clock I went down to the basement to the company cafeteria and got to know a lot of the other guys as we ate lunch. What a nice, friendly bunch of guys. Not like those sourpusses at Reed and Fields. This wasn't like work at all. It was like a well-paid vacation. The financial duties were not difficult, and I was really enjoying myself.

I ran into Wilson in the lobby after about two weeks. "How come we never see you in the gym or the rec room?" he asked me.

"I didn't know there was a gym and a rec room," I told him.

"Hell, yeah. We've got everything here. You've got to participate. We told you that in your interview."

"I know," I told him. "I'd love to participate. I just didn't know about the gym and the rec room. Nobody told me."

"I'll have to get after Craig about that," he told me. Then he patted me on the back and went to his own office, and I went to mine. Later in the day, I asked Craig about the gym, and he promised to take me there when he had a minute. Around four o'clock or so, he would come to my office.

At four fifteen or so he opened my office door and entered. He sat in one of the armchairs across from me, as I closed down my computer for the night.

"You ready for the gym?" he asked me.

"You bet," I told him. "I could use a work-out. I haven't been exercising at all."

"Well, we'll just have to set you up with a personal trainer in the gym. We don't want our handsome young guy, Greg, getting all flabby and out of shape, do we?"

"No, we don't. I agreed." I had a nice body, and wanted to keep it as long as possible.

"I don't have any gym clothes," I told Craig.

"You can get those later," he told me. "Right now you can work out in your socks and underwear. Nobody will mind. We're very informal here."

"Great," I told him.

We went into the gym which was on the third floor. It was very large, and had all the latest equipment. Barbells. Machines. All around me there were young guys lying on mats, lifting weights. Sometimes there would be two guys and one would spot for the other, assisting as his partner lifted. A lot of these guys were also in their socks and underwear, so when I stripped off my pants and shirt and shoes and locked them in the locker Craig had assigned me, I did not feel out of place.

He brought me over to the far side of the room and introduced me to Conrad, a big furry bear of a man with enormous muscles on his arms and legs. Conrad worked in the gym and would be my personal trainer. He decided that I would lie on a mat and lift a small weight with each arm. At first the weights would be fairly light, but gradually day by day he intended to increase them. Craig smiled at me and told me he had to get back to his office, but would see me in the morning, and to tell him how I liked the gym. Conrad brought two small barbells over to me and I lay down on the mat and began lifting one at a time. Left arm. Right arm. Left arm. Right arm.

There were two guys from my department right on the next mat. They were Larry and Kenny, also assistant bookkeepers, as was I. Larry was lying on a bench doing a bench press, lifting a very heavy weight, and when he got it up, Kenny would grab hold of it and rest it in the stand. Kenny was spotting for Larry. Then they switched, and Kenny was lying down with Larry standing over him, by his head. Then the strangest thing happened. I saw Kenny reach up and fondle Larry's genitals through his gym shorts. My god! Did anyone else see this? This was really embarrassing.

Larry didn't even move away. He stood there and I could see he was getting an erection as Kenny played with his penis. I was trying to be casual, and pretend that I wasn't seeing what I was seeing, and I continued to raise the weight in my left hand and then the one in my right.

Now Kenny climbed off the bench and knelt on the mat in front of Larry. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Larry pulled down his gym shorts and his big naked dick was waving in the air for all to observe, but no one seemed to be paying that much attention to them. Only me. Then Kenny started to lick Larry's prick. Larry thrust his pelvis forward, and pressed Kenny's face to his body. Kenny reached up a hand and closed it around Larry's dick. Then he started to suck the dick. Then he started to suck Larry's large hairy balls. They were both grunting and making other noises of pleasure, and Larry's hand was on Kenny's head, directing him where to lick. His cock. His balls. His groin on each side of his balls. I could hear the slurping sounds.

"How you doing?" It was Conrad, and he was standing next to my mat.

"Do you see what they're doing?" I told him.

"Yeah. So what?"

"So what!?!?" I was astounded and amazed. "He's sucking the other guy's cock," I announced as if he didn't have eyes himself.

"And I said 'so what.'"

"Is that kind of thing tolerated here?" I asked him.

"It's not only tolerated. It's encouraged. We're a team here. We work and play together. Everybody participates. It promotes group cohesion."

"Oh," I said. I wondered did that mean me too?

"Do you want to put any more weights on today, or wait until tomorrow?" he asked me.

"Tomorrow," I told him. Conrad walked away, and I turned my head just in time to see Larry jerk his wet dick into Kenny's open mouth. And Kenny savored the white cream on his tongue and swallowed it. He scooped up the semen that had fallen on his cheeks and chin, and fed it into his mouth, licking his fingers obscenely as if it were Viennese whipped cream. I would certainly not be able to tell Kathy about the gym. It was appalling, but it must have also excited me a little, because that night I couldn't get enough of her hot pussy, and as I fucked her I kept thinking about the blowjob I had witnessed. Kenny's mouth on Larry's long thick dick.

The next day I stopped at the sports store on the way to work and bought sneakers and a gym outfit. At four o'clock I went down to the third floor and changed in front of my locker. Then I walked into the main area. I saw Conrad working with Bert, a handsome young guy from the advertising department. I had sat with Bert in the cafeteria at lunch a couple of times. Really nice guy. He was also recently employed here, as was I. We both agreed that this Grand International was the greatest place on the globe to work, and that we were both damn lucky to have landed here.

Conrad nodded to me. I walked over to a mat and sat down on it. In a few minutes, when Conrad had finished setting Bert up with weights, he came over to me.

"I'm gonna add just a little weight to what you were lifting yesterday. Think you can handle it?"

"Yes," I said.

He brought over two small barbells which were each two pounds heavier than the ones I had lifted the day before. I lay down on the mat and start lifting my arms. Left. Right. Left. Right.

I started looking around the room. I didn't see Larry today. But I did see Kenny. He was way across the long room doing a bench press with Eddie from product development. I had had lunch with Eddie a couple of times also. Another handsome young guy. Eddie took the heavy bar from Kenny's arms and placed it on the stand, then Kenny reached up and began to fondle Eddie's genitals, as he had done with Larry's the day before. Eddie immediately pulled his cock and balls out from the confines of his jockstrap and through the left leg hole of his gym shorts. Immediately Kenny was on his knees making love to this new dick. Eddie put both his hands behind Kenny's head and pressed him forward, while thrusting his pelvis toward Kenny's mouth. His eyes were closed and he was licking his lips. He was enjoying this.

I started looking around the room, and they weren't the only couple enjoying oral sex. It was happening on several other mats around the room. Way in the corner, I could see two good looking young guys sucking each other's cocks at the same time in the 69 position. I closed my eyes and began lifting the weights. Left arm. Right arm. Left arm. Right arm.

In another week I had gotten used to seeing sexual activity in the gym. It did not upset me any more. I just kept lifting my weights. Left arm. Right arm. Left arm. Right arm. Suddenly Conrad was standing above my head.

"I think I'd like to move you along a little," he said.

"You mean add more weight?"

"No. Add more activity. I notice you're not joining in the way a Grand International man is supposed to. And since I'm feeling a little horny today, I've decided to give you the honor of sucking my cock."

My heart sank. I had been afraid of this moment. But I knew I didn't dare refuse. Not if I wanted to keep my great job at this great company. I swallowed hard and made up my mind that I would suck Conrad's cock. I climbed up on my knees and knelt before him. He was fondling himself through his shorts and jockstrap. I reached my hand in from the top and got under the jock strap. I felt him in my hand. Warm. A little sweaty. He pressed my face against his shorts, then he stepped back for a second and stripped off his shorts and his jock, letting his dick spring free. I took it in my hand and gave a tentative little lick on the head. Then I licked it around the shaft a little.

"Put it in your mouth," he said. "Suck that cock."

I put it in my mouth. I started to work on it. I'll have to admit that I was not as disgusted as I thought I would be. In fact I found it a little exciting.

"Yeah. That's it. You're getting it. Suck that dick," said Conrad.

And when he was commanding me like that, it made it even more exciting, and I really began to get into it. He made me lick his balls and inside his thighs, and in his crotch around his balls, and finally he shoved his dick back into my mouth.

"Keep your throat open," he told me. "I'm gonna fuck your face."

I relaxed all the muscles in my mouth and throat and gave him access. He hammered it into me, even hitting the back of my throat, and though I was gagging a little and drooling a lot, I was very excited. I had gotten hard myself. Suddenly Conrad started to tense up and pressed my head into him, and I felt his spurts running down my gullet. It was at that moment that I lost it. I had taken my cock out and was playing with it, and when he spurted down my throat, I spurted onto the gym mat.

"You did a good job," Conrad told me. "You're really gonna fit in here. Management will be happy."

"Thank you," I told him.

"See you tomorrow, kid." And then he was gone. I put the barbells back and returned to my locker, got dressed, and drove home.

"Is anything wrong?" Kathy asked at dinner.

"No. No. Everything's great. Why?"