Part One
Closing the Deal
My company, the Thoman Group, did well this year.
Up 38% year over year in revenue with a jump of 10% in profit over the same period.
Perhaps more importantly, however, we bested our closest rivals, Simi Corp. We did that by taking their largest and best client away from them. I can honestly say that I can wholly claim the credit for that. I do claim it rather publicly. It is part of my need to show my value. To everyone everywhere all the time.
You see, I am a Dealmaker. In fact, many would say I am THE Dealmaker. I like the art of dealmaking on many levels and from many perspectives. Most importantly, though, I want everyone to know that I am that guy.
Simi is literally right across the divided highway from us. Their 40-story glass and white aluminum mid-rise tower looks (down, as the Simi guys always say) over at our 25-story black glass quad of semicircular buildings that surround a large man-made pond.
I have been Head of Sales for three years now and my reign has been marked by continuous growth and rising profit.
This year, I determined that we would finally beat Simi in annual revenue for the first time. To do this, we needed to take something from them (our industry is pretty niche, so poaching clients is a necessary blood sport). So, I devised a plan to take a key client from Simi's top Salesman, Jim Adelman. He had brought this client with him to Simi from when he worked as a freelancer a year prior. After only one year, proud Jim did not like how he was being treated at Simi, so he was looking. Naturally, he approached me. He went to Simi first as they were larger, but I am well-known in the industry and have a great reputation as an effective boss and expert Dealmaker who likes to teach others my trade.
Jim approached me at the gym that both our companies commonly use in our industrial park. That both companies have arrangements with the same gym keeps the rivalry on the front burner at all times. Thoman Men and Simi Men are like gladiators staring each other down while we pump iron and play racquetball. It makes for rather horny times, in my opinion. In any case, Jim made it a point to be where I was in the weight room when I needed a spot. After the set, he introduced himself. I had heard the name and knew that he was the owner of the Ansaldi account that I had so coveted for so long. Strangely, I had not yet noticed him at the gym, though he said he had seen me a few times.
I looked him over (while he was looking me over) and liked what I saw. We were about the same height at about 5'10" but that is where the similarities ended. He cut a slim and toned profile like a swimmer covered in a slight layer of dark hair on his legs and arms (and I imagined his chest and abs as well) whereas I could be described as more thick-set. Not bulky by any means, but certainly thick-chested. We smiled at each other and there was an obvious connection between me and this dark-haired, blue-eyed boyish-type with a wicked smile (a common trait for the most successful salesmen). He seemed to be early 30's or so whereas I am a young and rather vigorous 46. He invited me to finish my workout on the treadmill if I was going to finish with some cardio. Interested, I followed him to the cardio area while taking in his narrow waist and swimmer's shoulders from a couple of paces behind him. He had nice, defined legs and sharply angled calves (such sights always make me go weak in the knees) and wore a pair of relatively new Nike trainers with black ankle socks. I wanted to massage his legs and then pull his feet out of those shoes and feel his (hopefully) moist, socked feet. But I needed to stop that line of thought so that I did not spring a woody right there.
We chatted amiably during the treadmill run. Both being in Sales, we traded boasts back and forth. Sensing that something was up between us, we arranged to continue our discussion over dinner.
He showed up dressed in a business casual way with a snug long-sleeve button-down (looked like a Sherman), nicely fitted flatfronts and black wingtips. This boy was smoking hot, in my opinion. Over dinner and quite a few drinks, the playful boasting we had begun on the treadmill earlier that evening had now led to the mild, fun threats that boys like to slide into when joshing each other. I told him that he would not last ten minutes in my office as a salesman while he retorted that he would own my office in ten minutes, etc. The analogy (yes, I was the one who went there) about how I was about to "come off the top rope like Cena" onto Simi Corp. put us firmly into the sandbox of school-boy taunts of whipping each other's asses. He retorted that scenario was unlikely as he would be there to meet me mid-ring and be sure the only one likely to be pinned and submitted was me. We were both getting hot around the zipper area and it was obvious that there was a strong mutual attraction. I went on to explain in nice detail why, though he seemed to be in good shape, he would never survive such an encounter when my arms were wrapped around his slim body and my chest was squeezing the air out of his lungs while I shook him like a rag doll. Not quite believing my boldness and thinking I had likely crossed a line of no return with a prospective employee, I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and shifted in his seat. He was definitely hard after this exchange. So was I.
Continuing, he countered that though I was thick in my torso and arms, I probably noticed that his legs were rather stronger than the rest of him and that I would have no opportunity for a bear hug if I was gasping for breath on the ground between his thighs as he crushed my rib cage. My throat went dry and my cock twitched. Trash talk gets me started really quickly. Imagining his legs wrapped around me was about to finish off what the trash talk had started. I needed another drink at that point so I could calm down. I wanted to wrestle this guy right then and there just to experience the feeling of what would surely be exquisite body contact. My head was swimming and my boxer briefs were straining. The continuous eye contact told me all I needed to know about where this evening was headed.
