Some Fun with a Co-Worer

I had been stocking a closet at work of paper products, when I tweaked an old back injury bending down to open the last box of paper towels. I stood up, and winced—feeling something pull in my lower back. I began rubbing my lower back in circles.

A few seconds later, I heard the jingle of keys. The door opened, and I saw Dale—a new employee—take a step in the closet. He was a tall man of 23—a few years younger than me. Clean shaven, yet perhaps a week or two beyond the need of a haircut. He stopped after the first step; with me and my small hand cart, there was not much space left in the closet.

"What's going on, Dale?" I asked, leaning forward to ease the pressure on my back.

"Nothing much," Dale replied. "I was looking for some trash bags. Are you okay?"

I sighed. "I just aggravated my back. Old injury."

Dale nodded. "Football?"

"No," I replied. "Picking up a paper clip."

Dale started laughing quietly. "I know that it's not funny, but it is."

"I know."

"You want to see if I can help you with that?" Dale asked.

"What, stocking the shelves?"

"No, your back."

I looked at Dale skeptically.

"Seriously," Dale said. "I do it all the time for my step-father. He fell off a ladder a couple years ago, and hasn't been the same since."

"Well, what do you have in mind?" I asked.

Dale crossed his arms across his chest. "You just cross your arms like this. Then I will come up from behind you, and lift you up—backwards. My step-father's back cracks in about a dozen places."

I tried straightening up again, and winced. I was willing to give anything a try. I had another half dozen closets to fill. I crossed my arms over my chest. "Like this?"

Dale slid behind me, and I could feel his warmth close by. I hadn't yet looked at Dale in a sexual way, but it felt good having him so close behind me. I could feel his body heat, nearly hum on my skin.

"Yes, like that," Dale said.

At six-six, Dale was much taller than me, and I thought that he would have an easy enough time lifting me up. He reached around me, and locked his right hand over his left wrist. I started getting goosebumps. I leaned back into Dale's chest, and felt it solid against my shoulders.

"Are you ready?" Dale asked.

I was ready for anything at that moment. "Yeah. Go ahead."

"Breathe in deep," Dale said.

The second I inhaled, Dale lifted me, and I could feel my sternum crack in a few places. Something in my lower back popped, and instead of pain, I felt numbness. But the numbness felt great.

Dale softly lowered me, and I leaned forward, slightly out of balance from my adjustment. In doing so, my left ass cheek pressed into his crotch. Dale did not pull away, and neither did I. I held my ground for a few seconds, and then felt his hands slide subtly down my back, with his fingertips coming to rest on my thighs. I felt that this was a less than subtle gesture, so I added one of my own. I scooted my ass where it was in line with him, and I grinded into his crotch. I could feel Dale's hot breath on my neck.

"I've been watching this ass from the day I started here," he said, grinding back into me—bending me over a large box of toilet paper. His crotch felt very hard. It was as though I was grinding against a marble statue.

"I want to feel this ass," Dale whispered.

I then heard the sound of a zipper pull through the teeth, , and I could hear the sound of ruffling fabric. I looked back and watched Dale pull his penis out. It was cut and rather large with a slight curve to it. I bit my lips, thinking all the fun I could have with that thing. Dale started bouncing his cock softly against my ass. It felt as hard as a police baton. I thought that Dale was going to fuck me then and there, and thought that I was not going to stop him. I was under the spell. I saw something that I really wanted.

Dale then gripped my ass with his free hand. "I want to fuck this thing. Are you going to let me fuck this thing?"

At this point, I could not form words. I merely grunted a simple mmm-hmm.

Just as Dale started tugging at the waist of my pants, I heard another set of keys jingle. The door cracked open. Dale stuffed his member back into his pants, and while still leaning over, I grabbed a roll of trash bags.

The door opened, and Karen, the floor supervisor, walked in. She stopped, and looked between the two of us—sensing that something was going on in the closet, but not totally certain.

"Dale," she said. "I was looking all over for you."

"Well, I was out back dumping trash, and needed more trash bags."

I stood up, and wiggled the roll of trash bags for emphasis. "Here you go, Dale."

Dale took the roll from me, and smiled. "Thanks."

"Dale, I need you back up on the floors," Karen said. "The waiting rooms on 2 are overflowing with trash."

"Will do," Dale said.

I resumed stocking the shelves.

"I need the closet on 3 stocked next," Karen said to me. "They said they've been out of toilet paper for three days."

I nodded, and continued lining paper towels on the shelf. Karen held the door open for Dale, and I watched the door close through the corner of my eye. The second the door clicked shut, exhaled deeply and shook my head. I could not shake all the thoughts—all the things I planned on doing to my new play thing.

In bending down for the last package of paper towels, I felt something wet on my ass. I rubbed the spot with my fingertips, and rolled them against each other. It was a thick, clear liquid that after a few seconds I realized was Dale's precum. My heart skipped a couple beats knowing that Dale's cock leaked on my ass. It was like a confirmation that his cock liked me. I licked my fingertips, and pressed my tongue in the roof of my mouth—savoring the taste. I spent the next few seconds pulling what I could from the wet spot and licking my fingers. I continued biting my lip. I wanted more than a taste.