Monday, September 26, 2011

Business Casual

It can be fun to see the differences between a man when he turns to sex.

I think it is safe to assume, while co-workers know I'm gay, they don't know the things I do, let alone to the depths I go to do them.

There is fun in seeing this in others, however. Add to it when they are an uptight business man who seemingly has no sense of humor or much personality other than his work persona. Take it one step further when you've done business with this individual twice and he has seemingly no recollection of you. Granted, it was six years ago.

So there I was in an adult bookstore, their video arcade, amongst the half dozen or so guys I had not desire to have sex with when he walked through. Tall. Lean. Well put together - as you might expect, even in a sleazier setting a good hour away from his home base (and mine).

I go there because it is one of the closer places I know I can get dick. I would venture to guess he goes that far because no one would, or should, recognize him. I'm venturing to guess no one did - except me.

I am really not bragging, but I figured I had a shot with him because I wasn't ugly which was on the menu that day in this place. I have said it before and will again, but I hate being the best looking guy in a bookstore. You attract all the trolls and it keeps me from the task at hand. This does not mean that I think I'm good looking, but I know I'm not as heinous as some others walking those halls.

So Mr. C took a booth and I ended up entering the opposite one. Immediately others came to look in both thinking, hoping, praying. All were denied. I wasn't sure I would be given the green light as he looked over, but not interested. I remember that as his business face.

But he did pull out his dick. It looked ok, but nothing extraordinary. I stepped over and he did not stop my entry. In fact, he had prepared it. There is one fold-up chair in each booth, he took the liberty of folding it up - making sure I would not sit to take his cock, but to go to my knees for it.

Well played.

He did indeed have me get on my knees. That is always fine with me. He didn't stop me from leaning forward to put his penis into my mouth. Actually, he quite enjoyed that I did. So did I.

His seemingly average cock turned out to be anything but. That flesh tube grew to a solid 8.5" and very very thick at it's base. I would have been impressed if anyone had this dick, but as a business guy, he kind of presented himself as proficient in the sales arena and had nothing else going on for him. Clearly I was wrong at reading this guy.

And the confines of that 3'x3' booth was like a fucking transformation chamber. Mr. Uptight let loose, at least a little. Probably a lot for him, but a little for most of my readers.

He encouraged me to suck his cock. That he said the word 'cock' seemed out of place of such a professional man, but he did and with authority.

The dick was beautiful and I loved sucking it. Clearly, he was ok with how I was performing as well. He'd look down and me and encourage me to blow him. Or he'd tilt his head back with his eyes closed, taking in the sensation of my mouth.

Why I don't like to use my hand when blowing a guy, Mr. C asked me to do it. He knows what feels good for him and what gets him off, so who am I to argue? What I didn't want to happen was for that to end it sooner than later. This was a cock I wanted to be on for a long time.

It turns out the suck/jack routine didn't spur an early ending at all. It enhanced his pleasure and I'd still deep throat him and stroke on my uptake. And it turns out he like a finger in his ass. Probably more, but this was just going to be a finger.

I noticed he loved playing with my chest and nipples, until I encouraged him to do it, then he stopped. I'm sure it was some sort of power dynamic, but he stopped and I was a little disappointed since I get off on that.

But I know he wanted to finish it eventually too. I took as much time as I could and really worked that cock. Mostly with my mouth, but with my hand on occasion. Both stimuli he responded to, so I did they hybrid.

He muttered he had a big load.

It turns out, it was an ok sized load, but not big. Granted, I might not be the guy you want judging that, but in his eyes it was a big load. It was thick. It was heavy. It tasted good.

I squeezed it all out with my mouth and onto my tongue, even the last few drops. And in a heartbeat he was buttoned up, in every way - clothes and attitude. He went back to being Mr. Stuffy and walked out the door.

Totally worth it.

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