Everybody Does It The Beginning

This story's theme is partly non-violent domination, and contains scenes of humiliation and submission.

******

For Paul Lombardo, Wednesday was just another day. A day closer to Saturday and the weekend, and when he arrived for work that morning, Paul had no idea how much is life was about to change. What began as a quiet day, yet another in a series of such days as the company struggled along with the rest of the economy, turned into something a whole lot different.

***

"You have been a busy boy," Rawle Johnson said as he leafed through the papers he held in his hands, and as Paul Lombardo looked at the long and impeccably manicured nails of the distinctive looking black man in the Armani suit who was his boss, he realized his life was over.

"Just on break time," Paul managed to say, and he cringed when his voice broke as it often did during tense moments.

That was probably why he was where he was, Paul thought, a nervous 40 year old man who had been in his same middle-level position at the company for the last 11 years. A competent guy who shrank from the spotlight and tried to go along and get along with everybody.

Rawle Johnson, on the other hand, was the dynamic leader type. The kind of guy who had you doing things his way whether you wanted to or not. Not even 30 yet, he had soared to his management position in no time.

There had been mumbles about his meteoric rise to the top, mostly from people who thought he got that far that fast because of his skin color, but soon even his biggest detractors had to admit that the man had it. The fact that the company was still going at all, while the competitors in the field had withered and died, spoke of his talents.

"Everybody may do it," Rawle Johnson said, his bass voice resonating in the office, and as he rose and walked around the room, his muscular 6'3" body seemed even more intimidating to Paul, whose shirt was seeping up the perspiration that was oozing out of his every pore. "And if they are, they will find themselves where you are today."

Paul was busted, and busted cold. While he had been surfing the web, it seemed like a harmless enough thing, but as his boss had already mentioned several times, it was against the rules and he had known that.

What made it worse was that Mr. Johnson had a list of Paul's every visit to each website over the past several months, and as Paul recalled where his surfing had led him, he shrunk even deeper into the seat.

"You are married, aren't you?" Mr. Johnson asked.

"Yes sir," Paul responded. "Twelve years."

"I guess that's why you don't look at this stuff at home," Mr. Johnson opined. "The little lady probably wouldn't approve."

"It's not that," Paul said, and was going to explain that Diane wasn't a prude, and they had even watched porn together from time to time, but stopped.

"That's your wife in the picture back on your desk, I assume?" Rawle Johnson asked, and when Paul nodded he continued. "Cute little thing. I'm guessing that she would be shocked if she knew about your interests, am I right?"

"I was just - curious," Paul croaked.

"Your curiosity seems to be rather focused," Mr. Johnson said, waving the papers that had the IP addresses listed along with the website names highlighted, in pink no less.

"Let's see here," Mr. Johnson said as he held the papers in front of Paul's face. "These look familiar to you? Why don't you read them out loud for me and let me know if any of these are incorrect and that you haven't looked at them here."

"You - you know what they are."

"Read them," Mr. Johnson said.

"His First Black Man," Paul began, biting his lip as he read. "Salt and Pepper. Slave For Black Cock. Black On White. White Boys Sucking Big Black Dick."

"Interesting," Mr. Johnson said. "Does the missus know you're gay?"

"I'm not gay," Paul blurted out.

"That's right," Mr. Johnson said, leaning back away from him after taking the papers away from him. "You're just curious."

"Look, I'll never do anything like that again," Paul promised.

"How long have you been with the company? Ten years?"

"Eleven," Paul said.

"Long enough for you to know that using company computers for personal business is strictly forbidden," Mr. Johnson said. "The fact that these are all pornographic websites only makes it worse. It seems that you have three choices. Resign is the easiest one."

"I can't," Paul whispered, as he thought about how impossible it would be to find a job today out there.

"Then there's me calling security and have them help you empty your desk and escort you out of the building," Mr Johnson suggested.

"Please," Paul said, not even bothering to fight the tears, as he thought of that humiliation. "We just bought a house last year. Diane loves that house. We want to have a baby - raise a family."

"Then there's the third way," Mr. Johnson said as he reached back and clicked the lock on the door of the office, whose only windows looked down on the city from the 12th floor.

"I don't understand," Paul Lombardo said as he looked at his boss who had taken off his suit jacket and was now standing there with his arms crossed over his broad chest, as cool and calm as Paul was wet and frantic.

"I think you do," Rawle Johnson said. "You know what you want - what you want to do. Come on over here."

***

"Not like that," Mr. Johnson said after I had taken a couple of steps toward him.

"Down. Get down on your knees."

"What?"

"Part of the penalty you're going to pay if you want to keep your job," Mr. Johnson said. "Now get down on your knees or or stand up, turn around, start walking and keep on walking - get another job where they let you look at porn on company time."

Paul Lombardo's neck was burning as he submitted to the orders of his supervisor, as mad at himself for managing to get himself in this position as he was at Mr. Johnson.

"That's better," Mr. Johnson smirked as he stood a few feet away. "Now come over here."

It wasn't crawling, Paul thought in justifying himself walking on his knees toward Mr. Johnson, but it was so close that the difference was hardly worth noticing.

Now he was in front of Mr. Johnson, and right before his eyes was the crotch of his boss. Paul thought of the times that he had fantasized about what was under those trousers - the time at the urinals here where he had gotten a peek at his supervisor while they were peeing. Maybe Mr. Johnson was right. Maybe this WAS what he wanted.

"Well?"

"I don't know - don't know what you want me to do," Paul mumbled. "I've never done this before."

The part about crawling on his knees was new to him, but Paul had done what was apparently about to happen before. There was that time in his younger days when that man had given him a ride and made him suck his dick - well, maybe he didn't make him, but it seemed like he had.

Then there was that time at his bachelor party, when his best man Ken had taken him home and they had done things to each other, but they were both drunk or else that never would have happened.

"Never sucked a cock before?" Mr. Johnson asked in a voice that suggested he wasn't buying it. "Bullshit. Now put your hand on the fly of my trousers."

"That's it," Mr. Johnson said as Paul's hand touched the fabric. "Now run your hand on down. Get an idea of what you're dealing with here."

Paul's hand was shaking as he felt Mr. Johnson's manhood beneath the fabric, spongy and thick, and as Paul's hand slid further and further down his breathing got heavier as his eyes opened wider.

"You like that, don't you?"

"No," Paul said as he finally lost contact with the organ on the inside right trouser leg, looking up at his boss.

"Bullshit. Tell you what. Take out your dick."

"What?"

"Reach in and take out your own dick," Mr. Johnson explained. "If it isn't hard then you can get up and go back to work like nothing ever happened."

"Just like I thought," Mr. Johnson said arrogantly after watching his subordinate kneel there motionless for a minute. "Now pull down my zipper. Slowly."

***

Paul's shaky fingers fumbled with the tab of Mr. Johnson's zipper, and after corralling it he brought it downward, the sound the teeth made as it opened sounding like the spinning wheel at a casino to Paul.

"Now reach in and get what you've wanted since you first laid eyes on me. Pull my cock out. Slowly."

Paul wanted to shake his head, wanted to tell his boss that he that he was wrong, but instead found his hand moving toward the opened fly and fumbling for the opening in the boxer shorts. Silk - black silk, greeted him and then smooth skin that was so soft it couldn't really be above his genitals, and then his hand was on Mr. Johnson's cock.

Cock? What Paul grabbed and struggled to pull out of the fly bore no relation to anything he had ever dealt with, and as he worked the rubbery hose out and saw what was now hanging out in front of him, it still did not seem real.

"Just like on the computer, huh Lombardo?" Mr. Johnson chuckled. "Probably saw a lot of stuff like this on the White Boys Sucking Black Cock website you like so much. Now you know what to do next."

It wasn't THAT thick, Paul said as he looked at the uncircumcised hunk of flesh not a foot in front of his face. Paul's hand went back to the shaft, and as he wrapped his hand around Mr. Johnson's cock he saw the tip of his glans peek out from underneath the foreskin.

Why couldn't he be circumcised, Paul thought as he tried to get his face to move closer. That would have been easier - so much less scary than this - Paul reasoned as he saw the conical tip of the black cherry-hued glans, much different in color than the sleek mahogany tone of the rest of his cock.

"That's it," he heard Mr. Johnson say as he lifted the weighty organ and closed his eyes while opening his mouth.

The warmth of his cock was the first thing Paul noticed as his mouth took in the tip of the massive penis, and then the taste, which had a hint of some kind of body oil as the aroma filled his nostrils.

Mr. Johnson's cock was like a living and breathing entity, Paul sensed as his lips moved down the squishy organ. He could feel the pulsating beneath the loose skin as his lips moved toward his hand on the shaft. There was a vein running down the top of Mr. Johnson's cock that was so thick and bulging that he swore he could see the force of the blood flowing through it that his hand felt.

"Take my slacks down," Mr. Johnson said, his hands still on his hips.

Paul pulled his mouth off of the cock, the moistness on the dark skin sparkling, and Paul was stunned to see how little of Mr. Johnson's cock he had in his mouth, because it had seemed like a whole lot more that the 3 wet inches indicated.

The belt buckle with the gold J on it came apart easily, and after it opened, Paul's fingers undid the clasp, exposing the elegant looking black silk boxers and the enormous cock that was hanging out of the fly.

"Now the briefs," Mr. Johnson said, and as Paul gently tugged them down, his eyes got even wider.

Mr. Johnson's skin - the skin above his cock, was as smooth as could be, without a trace of pubic hair, and that made the sight of his cock even more stunning. The base of his cock was more like the trunk of a tree, the thickness of it making Paul gasp in surprise.

Mr. Johnson's cock tapered as it went, which was why the part that Paul's hand and mouth had handled seemed somewhat normal in comparision, but looking at the fully exposed genitals of his boss was as humbling as it was erotic.

"Come on," Mr. Johnson said, reaching down and picking up his dick and wiggling it in front of Paul, exposing his somewhat normally proportioned sac. "I've got a lunch appointment at noon."

Paul felt the slap of Mr. Johnson's cock on his cheek a couple of times before he reached up and took in from him. Just get it done and it will be all over, Paul kept telling himself, while moving his lips up and down the end of his cock.

"Use both hands on that thing," Mr. Johnson said, and after Paul clutched it in his fists, he got some faint praise from his boss.

"We'll make a cock sucker out of you yet, Lombardo. That's it, squeeze that cock tight. Pump that thing. That's it."

Paul felt Mr. Johnson start to get aroused as he followed his orders. The gigantic cock began to get firmer in his grasp, making it easier to suck on, and soon the pulsating veins made him full engorged.

How big was this cock of Mr. Johnson's, Paul found himself wondering as he moved his lips on what his hands could not cover? It hadn't gotten very much longer or thicker since the beginning, but it had to have been 7 or 8 inches when he first pulled it out.

"Suck it. Suck it hard!" Mr. Johnson hissed as his hands touched Paul for the first time, grabbing the back of his skull as he thrust himself into Paul's mouth. "Here you go."

Before Paul had a chance to react, he felt the cum spurting into his mouth and down his throat in what seemed like an endless series of waves as Paul struggled to keep swallowing and not choke.

"Ah!" Mr Johnson groaned after he finally stopped cumming and pulled his deflating cock out of Paul's mouth, which gave Paul a chance to catch his breath and try to swallow what was coating the roof of his mouth and throat.

"Not bad, Lombardo," Mr. Johnson said as he cuffed his employee's cheek with his flaccid member before reaching down and pulling his pants up. "You'll get better."

"What's the matter?" Mr. Johnson said when he saw Paul's shocked expression. "You think it's over? No, not even close. This shit you pulled on that computer is worth a lot more than one so-so blow job."

Paul stayed on his knees while his boss got himself together, and in a minute Mr. Johnson looked as smooth and professional looking as usual, while Paul looked - well, not even close.

"Get your act together, Lombardo," Mr. Johnson said as he looked down on his employee before leaving. "You look like a drowned rat. Luckily my secretary's gone to lunch. Hit the men's room before you get back to work. You CAN get up now, you know."

Paul heard Mr. Johnson chuckling as he closed the door behind himself, and only then did Paul dare stand up. He looked down at his sweat stained shirt and below, where his cock was bulging in his slacks, a tiny wet spot revealing how he felt.

Paul hurried through the office, which was quiet because it was lunch time, and hurried into the bathroom, which was mercifully empty. Paul hurried into a stall and slammed it behind himself and yanked down his pants and underwear.

"Aw!" Paul groaned as his cock erupted the moment he touched it, his semen spraying all over the wall behind the toilet as his legs nearly gave out from the force of his orgasm.

After he finally stopped cumming, Paul looked at the cum that was drooling down the tiles. If Diane had ever been in the way of that blast, Paul wondered as he began cleaning the mess he had created, he would have put her through the mattress.

Paul sat on the toilet for a while before emerging. He had gotten to the sink just as a co-worker entered, and when he saw Paul, the guy asked him if he was okay.

"Yeah," Paul said as he splashed water all over his face. "Think I'm coming down with something."

Paul hustled out of the bathroom and hid in his cubicle until his shirt and slacks dried, and as he sat there his mind kept going back to what had just happened, while the bittersweet taste of Mr. Johnson's seed lingered in his mouth. What was next?

***