Chapter 1
The hallway was nearly empty as the end of the day approached. It was Friday and I was eager to get out of here. I worked for a vitamin company and was the head of multiple projects. Which earned me a wealthy amount of money.
As I approached my office, I was greeted by my lovely assistant, Monica. For three years she worked for me and did one hell of a job. I cared for her as a friend. Last year, at the age of 32, she gave birth to her first child. A beautiful baby girl named Laura.
She stood up from her desk, her raven hair flashed before my eyes as she said, "Mr. Benoit, your ride will be here in 30 minutes. They said they are running a bit late due to traffic."
I gave her a warm smile. Inside I was a bit upset by this news, but it wasn't her fault. I simply said, "Well that gives me some time for a drink. Anything else?"
"No, sir," she said, sitting down. I continued for the door to my office when she added, "Oh wait, remember I will not be here next week sir."
"Oh yes, your vacation. Where are you going again?"
"Colorado, my husband's family is there."
"I see, have a great time Monica. Bring me back a shot glass."
She gave me a smile and said, "Of course, sir."
The sun had been setting when I entered my office. It's orange light gave it a warm glow. I kept a few bottles of alcohol in my office drawer for the rough days. Today was not one, but seeing that my driver was running late, one would be fine. I grabbed a glass and poured some whiskey into it, then I sat behind my desk and rested my feet on the end. My eyes closed and I began to rerun the day's events back in my mind.
Unfortunately, my thoughts were cut short when I heard the door to my office open then closed. I opened my eyes to see my best friend, Jeffrey. He also worked here at the company with me and we had been friends since high school.
"Enjoying an afternoon drink?" he said as he approached the desk.
"Help yourself," I gestured to the open bottle on my desk.
"No, thank you. Unlike you, I drive myself places."
"If I did that, then I wouldn't be able to do stuff like this."
"To each their own," he said, sitting at the empty chair across from me, "So, the party tonight."
"What about it?" The party was celebrating a big deal we just made with another company. The party was going to be at one of my houses in the hills of Los Angeles. A few of the shareholders were going to attend so it was a big thing.
"Well, the caterers have already arrived and have begun to set up."
"Okay?" I said turning my head to him wanting the point of the information.
"Well, I just wanted you to know that. But my real concern is," I knew what he was going to say, but I let him say it. "That you won't be sleeping with one of them. You can't do stuff like that tonight, not with the shareholders here."
"It happened once," he was referring to my sexual flings. At the age of 42, I had a beautiful wife of 20 years and two wonderful children. My son, Leon, was 20 and was now in his second year at college. My daughter, Jillian, just turned 18 and graduated high school, with the plans to head to law school. However, despite loving my wife and children, I always had a desire to have sex with men. I wasn't attracted to them, I just loved having sex with them. After some quick research, I found out I was bicurious. Ever since high school, I just loved having sex with men. There was so much about it that I loved. The way they sucked a cock was way different than any one who had sucked mine, even my wife. It was a secret only Jeffrey and my wife knew. Anna, my wife, never liked it. She always told me that it was a phase that would simply just pass. Unfortunately for her, it hadn't as I kept having sex with men on the side. She had found out about one incident, which had led to a fight.
"It's happened more than once. I've just paid the recent one to keep his mouth shut," Jeffrey said once again interrupting my thoughts. Despite us being friends for nearly 30 years, we had never had sex. I wasn't really the guy who sucked a cock or got fucked. I was what they called a top. I learned a bit of the lingo so it would be easier to communicate with guys who are going to blow me or get fucked by me.
"Relax," I said, placing the nearly empty glass on the table, "I will be on my best behavior tonight. You don't need to worry."
"Good, we don't need the company knowing you're sleeping with guys. It's a bad look for the company."
"Bad because I am sleeping with men?"
"No, sleeping around with other people while being married and having two children."
I snickered, "Fair point."
After my short meeting with Jeffrey, I left the office and got into my ride. On the drive there, I read through the list of guests that would be there. When I got home, I greeted the manager of the catering company and then slipped into my room to take a shower. I stopped in front of the mirror and gazed at myself with a towel wrapped around my waist. I kept my body in top shape and my face clean shaven. My hair was cut short. My looks were mostly what attracted gay men to me. Women didn't do it for me anymore. Of course, I fucked my wife from time to time, but her pussy wasn't as tight anymore. She also didn't like anal. But the gays, they loved to keep their asses nice and tight.
When I was done gazing at myself, I put on some dress clothes and headed down stairs.
My house was one of the three I owned. I had another one on the beach and the third one was where my wife and children lived. This house was mostly used for esteemed guest parties and the occasional time to myself. It was the first home I bought when I made my first big sale. My wife insisted I sold it, but I liked having it around. I had tried moving her in here when we first got married, but she feared the house would fall in an earthquake. It was a two floor house with a single bedroom. It hung on the hill with plenty of windows to gaze at the beautiful Los Angeles skyline. But I had always assured her it was safe, but she insisted on a house that didn't hang on the side of a hill.
In no time, the party guests arrived and the party went on.
As I went around the party meeting and greeting people, something caught my eye. He was currently serving champagne to a group of guests. He had a thin frame but his shoulders looked like he worked out. His hair was cut short and well groomed. No facial hair at all, and his skin was fairly dark, possibly a latino. He noticed me staring and quickly turned away.
I excused myself from the group I was in and cautiously moved towards him. Something had told me, he would be a great cock sucker. I wasn't sure how I always knew this but it had never failed me in the past. Many times, I would find cock suckers in the most unexpected places. I went from group to group as I got closer to him.
He was bending over by a table getting another plate of champagne. Which gave me a good look at his ass that was in those slim dress bottoms. His butt was what people called a bubble butt, but it wasn't as big as others I have seen. He rose up and turned to me, almost dropping the plate when he looked at me.
"Hello, there," I said with a warm smile.
He returned the smile and said, "Hello, Mr. Benoit," he had a latin accent.
"You're doing a great job," I said. I could already see the nervousness in him. I had done my best to keep my physique by working out every day and jogging as well. I had done a few marathons, mosty for charity and for the company to look good. The gays enjoyed my body despite my grey hairs starting to show. But they didn't care when they came on my hairy chest when I was done fucking them. I had heard the word DILF thrown at me from time to time, which I had learned meant, Daddy I'd Like to Fuck. The word always brought a smile to my face. But I could see him looking at me in a special way. It was like I somehow knew he was getting hard for me.
The young server gave me a warm smile and said, "Thank you sir."
I leaned forward and whispered in his ear in Spanish, "If you're looking for a good time, go up stairs," then I slipped him a one hundred dollar bill into his shirt pocket. The hundred dollar bill was an incentive to keep his mouth shut incase he said no. It was a gamble to tell him this as he could very well be straight, but what was the worst that can happen? He tells his boss? If so, money would solve that. These caterers only cared about money and who they got paid from. And my name carried weight in Los Angeles. I could make a small catering company into a big one. By months' end, they would be catering for Denzel Washington.
