Serving the New Boss

I have been working for the same company for 30 years.

I have never been able to break through the glass ceiling into any kind of management.

Oh, I've tried.

Many times.

But to no avail.

I was always passed by the person who was a little more educated, a little younger, a little something better than me.

And now I found myself at 60, consigned to the same job I've been doing for the last ten years, and probably will be for the next five as well, or until I retire.

And then two unexpected things happened: Our facility manager and our shop supervisor both left the company.

The facility manager position was filled immediately.

His name was Peter Wood, and like his name, he was a prick.

Nobody liked him because he was a my-way-or-the-highway kind of guy. However, the last boss was so ineffectual, Peter's strong will stood as a stark contrast to the previous boss's "don't make waves" style. In actuality, we needed a prick to set things right again.

One day Peter came walking past on one of his "inspections" and he paused in front of me.

He stood, looking at me.

"Morning," I said, mostly just trying to be courteous.

He continued looking at me, folding one arm across his chest, the other arm's hand under his chin as if thought.

"The is an open supervisor position. I have not yet seen your name."

"I've been shot down 4 times. I see no reason to make it 5.

"I believe myself to be a good judge of character. Humor me this one more time. You needn't apply, just tell me you're willing."

I looked at him, wondering what his angle was.

"As you wish," I replied.

He smiled an odd little smile.

"That's the idea," he said, walking away.

Two weeks later I found myself in his office, for an interview.

"I have no need for you to recite your qualifications; I can see people already look to you for answers.

Why were you turned down before?"

I went through the stories of how I "just missed" being promoted by those younger, smarter, prettier and, unsurprisingly, no longer with the company.

They always liked the other candidate just a little more. Every single time.

"Yet they're long gone, and I'm still here!"

I think my anger was starting to manifest itself.

"That must have been frustrating," Peter said.

"You're damn right!" I said, coming to a boil. "I mean, who's dick do I have to suck to get ahead in this place?" I blurted out.

Peter immediately stood, walked around the desk, stepped in front of me, and leaned back against his desk, his eyes boring into my soul. I thought I was done for. What he said next rocked me to the core.

"Mine."

Did he just say what I thought he said?

I sat looking at him stupidly.

He didn't say anything. I was contemplating if he really meant what he said. A million things started running through my mind. We were struggling and retirement was looming; we needed the money. I wasn't gay. This job should have been mine, and here it was, in my grasp. One little blow job...I looked up at him, he had a smirk on his face, as if he knew what I would do. I glanced at his crotch. He had a noticeable bulge, and it appeared to be growing. What would my wife say if she found out I was a cocksucker? Or my coworkers?

He stood up in front of me, moving slightly closer, swaying back and forth, as if he were fucking my mouth already.

I was frozen to my chair, unable to move. I mean, I had principles, right? What kind of self-respecting sixty year old man would suck the dick of a guy half his age just to get ahead?

He moved as close as he possibly could without actually touching me, still air fucking my mouth.

I was still frozen, unable to move.

"Of course, if you not interested..." he said. Then he started to turn.

When his body had turned to the point of being at a 90 degree angle to me I stopped him from turning. I looked down and my hand was on his crotch. Without thinking I began stroking his cock through his pants.

"I offer you the supervisor's position. You will signify your acceptance by removing all of your clothes and sucking me to completion. You have fifteen seconds to reply."

A sense of urgency took over as the clothes literally flew off of my body.

Never before has another man's cock touched my lips, but fifteen seconds later I found myself naked, on my knees, with a man's semi-soft cock in my mouth.

I must have appeared rather comical, once again frozen in place, but this time my sixty year-old naked dad bod was kneeling on the floor, hands glued to my thighs, with Peter's dick stuck in my mouth. He wasn't moving, and neither was I.

"I'm not going to cum without some effort on your part," he stated matter-of-factly.

Now, I've never personally done this myself, and I've been the recipient of a blowjob only twice in my life, but I have seen it done in countless porno videos, so I followed the actresses examples as best as I could and slowly started moving fore and aft.

I felt the warm softness of his dick, and noticed the different textures as it slid back and forth across my tongue and across my lips. As I kept up this movement, other things caught my attention.

I noticed he shaved his cock and balls. and he kept his pubic hair trimmed.

I thought it made my current task more pleasant.

I caught a faint whiff of some body spray. This, coupled with his natural aroma, I found mildly intoxicating.

I noticed his thighs...they were well-muscled. Peter obviously went to the gym. As he reacted to my movements, individual muscles would contract and relax. I don't know why, but I had to touch them. My hands, almost involuntarily, reached up and began caressing the muscles of his thigh.

On one upward stroke, my right hand went a little to far and grazed his balls. Fascinated by how soft and warm and smooth they were, I switched from his thigh to his balls.

They were hefty. His balls had to be twice the size of mine, and they swayed gently with my movement.

My attention was drawn to the penis in my mouth.

Although it was already nearly reaching the back of my mouth, more was out than was in. He had to be at least eight or nine inches long. I was determined to emulate the porno girls and go all the way down on him. Like I sometimes do when I go down on my wife, I reached around and took hold of his ass.

His ass was as hard as a rock, too.

I pulled him by his ass closer to my face, trying to force that cock into my throat.

Boy, was that a mistake! I nearly lost my lunch there on the office floor. I retched, falling face-down on the floor, feeling his cock slide out of my mouth and up my face as I went down.

"Woah, there, Johnny!" he said, laughing. "First things first- but don't worry, we'll work up to that!"

I looked up, and was horrified by what he just said, and what I saw.

He words told me this wouldn't be the only time, as I had assumed. His one hand was slowly stroking himself closer to orgasm, but his other hand had his phone in it, no doubt recording me for posterity...or blackmail!

"Listen carefully- I'm going to unload all of my cum in your mouth. Do NOT swallow until I have spoken...Now, open wide, cocksucker!"

I opened my mouth as wide as it would go, and closed my eyes as tight as I could...why, I don't know.

I heard him start to grunt quietly, then suddenly he grabbed my hair hard. I let out a cry from the pain as my eyes shot open, just in time to see his milky sperm come shooting out the end of his cock and into my mouth, stifling my cry of pain.

I started breathing hard through my nose as he continued to flood my mouth with his ejaculate. I wasn't used to the taste, and I struggled with the desire to spit it out, or to swallow it. I felt the strong need to do one or the other....

He grunted one last time, satisfied that he had shot all but the last drop into my mouth. The last drip he used as lip gloss, painting it on my lips with his manly paintbrush.

He pulled his pants up and, sitting back down, he picked up his phone he pointed it at me again.

"So," he began, "You willingly sucked my cock, correct?"

I nodded.

"And now my semen fills your mouth?"

Again I nodded.

"You now have a choice before you. Spit it out in this trashcan," he said placing the wastebasket in front of me, "and I will continue my search. Or willingly swallow it, and the job with all its' perks, and responsibilities will be yours. I advise you to choose wisely. Once you swallow, you belong to me. Choose now. You have fifteen seconds."

I broke out in a cold sweat. What did that mean, 'I belong to him'? I couldn't ask, my mouth was full of cum! I started to panic as he çalled out the seconds: " 10, 9, 8" I was having trouble breathing, some of the cum was leaking down my throat! "7, 6, 5" I accidentally inhaled and started to choke! "4, 3, 2,"

I swallowed.