Dear Reader: As my regular readers know two of my favorite themes are gay guys and cuckolded husbands. When I write a story about both it is hard to decide whether to list it under Gay Male or Loving Wives. No matter which I choose someone always complains. This time I flipped a coin.
My name is Barry Johnson and I'm six years out of college working as a junior partner in a large Pensacola accounting firm. I have a very good salary and a very tough boss. I'm good at what I do, but still, I feel lucky to have this job in the present financial climate.
It wasn't easy getting through high school and business school after starting out in my neighborhood. I worked my ass off to get where I am today and I'm still working hard. I was hired to develop a new clientele of small business owners that the firm had never reached before and I think the senior partners like my work. Maybe, just maybe, I can see a senior partnership in my future, if my luck holds out.
I have a nice condo in a big complex with a pool. I have no shortage of girl friends, but I'm in no hurry to get married. I have to be careful to make the right choice when I settle down. Just like I had to do, the girl I marry will have to learn to fit in with the crowd I now live and work with. Pick the wrong girl and years of effort can go down the tube in a hurry – a bad marriage is no fun. I think one of our senior partners, Bruce Woods, the guy I report to as my boss, has a marriage that is going bad.
Bruce has a penthouse condo in the complex where I live. He's a take-charge executive, a bit arrogant, and he's not the friendliest guy in the world. I have trouble relating to him. He's often in a foul mood, maybe because his marriage is on the rocks and he's chewed me out more than once. And he doesn't treat his beautiful wife, Rachel, very well at parties and around the condo pool. I've never seen them fighting exactly, but Rachel, or Rocky as she likes to be called, always seems unhappy.
This weekend I am attending a meeting at the Peabody Hotel in Orlando, updating my knowledge of the recent changes in tax regulations. Sitting in the bar, sipping a Balvenie neat, I begin to think about my family and what I have accomplished. My family has never heard of single malt scotch, much less Balvenie at over a hundred dollars a bottle. But it is a loving family, proud of their son.
Mom and Dad are in good health and Dad will be retiring in another few years from his job with the postal service. Unlike my brother and two sisters, I will be in a position to help the folks financially if they need it – payback for all they did for me - keeping me in line and out of trouble when I was growing up – no easy job.
I look at my watch. One more meeting and then the day's agenda will be over. I take the escalator up to the mezzanine conference room and take notes on the final lecture of the day. My habit has always been to immediately review my notes – it helps me remember – so after the lecture I sit in an empty conference room reading my notes and adding key points regarding what these new regs will mean for my clients, most of whom are very good at running a small business but very bad at doing their taxes.
Almost an hour goes by before I am satisfied that I understand the changes in the law. Then I get up and head to the elevators, walking across the deserted mezzanine. On my way I feel a call of nature and I step into an empty men's room. Sitting on the crapper I hear someone enter the cubicle next to mine and take a seat. He moves his foot over close to the partition and begins to tap it.
Jesus! I haven't had a blowjob in a long time and here is a guy who wants to suck my dick! I remembered what had happened to that Senator in the Minneapolis airport but this guy is approaching me so he's probably safe.
I tap my foot as he is doing and it is no surprise when a hand appears in the space under the partition making a "come on" gesture. I drop to the floor, spread my knees and slip them under the partition. Leaning my cheek against the cool metal wall, I feel a hand gently massage my testicles. I have big low-hanging balls and I enjoy having them played with. Then, another hand starts to stroke my cock, which is getting hard. Soon I have a throbbing erection, sticking straight up in the air.
"Jesus!" I hear a whisper from the other side. "You got a really big one. Damn it's beautiful!"
I am uncircumcised and have a thick cock with a big, loose foreskin. The guy plays with it, moving it back and forth over the bulbous head of my cock. Then I feel a warm, wet mouth start to suck me off. Faster and faster he sucks and it feels really good. I hadn't had a blowjob since a girlfriend sucked me off months ago. Guys give better blowjobs than girls anyway and this is an effortless way to relax and get rid of tension.
I leaned my chest against the cool metal partition, closed my eyes, and just let that talented cocksucker do his work. He was good - really good! He worked steadily and quietly – his tongue swirling around my dick and under my foreskin as his head pumped rapidly up and down – all the time he was gently massaging my balls. He was a neat cocksucker - not at all sloppy – he swallowed his saliva so none was dripping down on my balls, like with some guys.
In a couple of minutes I feel my juices start to rise. This guy was fast! My balls lifted up out of his hand and pressed tightly, high in my scrotum and then wham! I start to pump my load into this guy's mouth. It was a heavy load! I hadn't emptied my balls for a while. I just leaned against the partition relaxing and pumping ... relaxing and pumping. He swallowed every bit and didn't lose a drop. Finally, I gave a huge sigh of satisfied relief.
"Thanks," he whispered, as he wiped my dick dry with his handkerchief. "I needed that. Damn! You got big balls. That was a big load and it tasted good."
I felt his thumb and forefinger start at the base of my cock and milk out all of the semen. Then, delicately, he licked the last drop of creamy cum off the head of my dick. An expert, I thought, now I won't drip cum in my pants. A good cocksucker always remembers to do that.
I was breathing hard as I got back up on the seat – no longer needing to take a crap. I pulled my pants up and exited the cubicle moments after he did. He turned to look at me and I got the shock of my life. There was Bruce Woods, senior partner in my firm and the guy I always thought of as "my tough boss."
"Oh my God!" Bruce said suddenly. "I didn't know ... I mean ... I ... "
Then he dropped his head and stared at the floor, mumbling. "Please Barry! Please don't tell anyone about this."
"Let's go down to the bar, Bruce, and get a drink. I think we both need one."
The guy that I had always seen as a powerful take-charge executive – the guy, who scared the shit out of me when I thought I had made a mistake, followed me meekly, almost subserviently, down to the bar. Clearly, he was no longer in charge.
On the escalator I began thinking about the troubles between Bruce and his wife, Rocky. Now I realized why that beautiful, blond, sexy thirty-five year old wife of his was so unhappy. She wasn't gettin fucked! At least, not gettin fucked enough. Maybe ... well just maybe, I might get lucky.
We sat down at a table in the bar next to the water fountain where the hotel staged the famous "parade of the ducks." We both ordered Balvenie. Nothing was said until our drinks came. Then I began the conversation.
"You're good at what you do in the office ... " I paused, "and in the men's room too. But there are safer places to suck dicks."
He looked down at his drink. Then he mumbled, "You're not gonna tell anybody about this are you?"
"I'm not gonna tell anybody, Bruce. You're a talented cocksucker. I haven't had a gay guy service me regularly since college. I enjoy a quality blowjob. I got a feeling you'd like to take care of me. Am I right?"
He was still staring at his drink. He said nothing.
"Am I right?" I repeated.
He looked up like a trapped animal and meekly nodded his head yes.
"Shall we drink a toast to a return engagement?" I asked.
Finally he looked up at me, slowly, and with a shrug that seemed to say he was helpless, he raised his glass and clinked mine in a toast.
"Here's to many happy returns," I said.
With that toast I realized that I owned him. All of his arrogance was gone. He was gonna be my private cocksucker. He was mine! And, maybe, so was his wife. In that moment I made up my mind that I was gonna try to fuck her. I was gonna take care of that itch between her toes – her big toes – that was obviously driving her wild.
We had a second drink and talked about the new tax regulations. Then we had dinner at one of the hotel restaurants and headed for the elevators. Without a second thought he got off at my floor and followed me to my room. Another drink from the service bar in my room and then, without a word, we undressed.
Bruce had a tube of lubricant and he dropped to his knees and began lubricating my dick. He looked up at me as he stroked it and gave me a timid smile.
"Damn! Barry, that's maybe the biggest cock I ever saw," he said. "Jesus it's beautiful."
He cradled my testicles in his hand. "You got big balls too and they hang low."
Then he crawled over to the bed and bent over so his chest rested on the bed and spread his knees so his asshole was available. I almost laughed when I saw his genitals. To say the least, he was not well endowed. I would have been embarrassed to walk into a shower in my old high school if I had equipment that small.
Looking at what he had to offer, I thought, it's no wonder that his wife Rocky was unhappy. I stepped up and pressed my lubricated cock against his anal sphincter. Slowly I increased the pressure. I'm thinking okay boss-man; get ready for a big one!
"Please be gentle," he said. "I've never had one as big as yours. I don't get fucked very often."
I'm thinking gentle hell! After all those times you chewed me out? You're gonna get fucked! Big time fucked!
