A Big Error of Judgement

4

I was almost shaking as I went down to the basement. What had I done? What was going to happen? Adam had long-since gone. I stopped on our floor on the way down to check. Would he say anything? It was about as bad a situation as one could be in. Better yet, I had the whole weekend to worry about it. And worry about it I did.

I tried to phone him the next day, to no avail; I just got his voice mail. I hoped that he wouldn't tell anyone. I figured he wouldn't tell anyone in the management. I mean, who would even mention that? How would you start such a conversation? In any case, he was young too; how offended could he be? But I thought he might mention it to my colleagues; after all, what a coup! I could just imagine that conversation in the canteen the next day, in my absence! It was so difficult to judge. No-one could accuse me of doing something morally wrong, as an individual, but in the corporate setting it seemed so bad.

Despite my worries about the outcome, I found the memory of it incredibly exciting. The feeling of heart-pounding squirting, that dramatic punch of fear that slammed my orgasmic body, was intoxicating. I wanked time and again over the weekend, driven by the memory of that awesome second, though each orgasm gave way to a nagging fear.

When I got to the office on Monday, my heart was pounding almost as strongly as it had the previous Thursday night. I was there early, so I might be first into the office, but he was already sat there, as were some of my colleagues. As I walked past him, trying to keep a calm tone to my voice and attempting a cheery "Morning!", his face was inscrutable. Was that good? Bad? How the hell could I know? I got on with my work silently.

Whereas there would normally have been banter between us, by ten o'clock, we'd hardly said a word to each other. I couldn't stand it. I sidled up to him, trying to feign nonchalance.

"I'm going downstairs," I said, "Are you coming down for coffee?" My heart was racing again.

"Alright." His face gave away nothing.

We took the lift down and didn't speak. I held the door open for him into the restaurant. We got our coffee, noiselessly. We added milk and sugar, stood next to each other. Still nothing. I paid. We sat down opposite each other in the cavernous underground canteen.

"Good weekend?" he asked.

"Not really," I said, "things on my mind."

"Wanker!" he said, a big grin on his face.

"And I suppose you don't?"

"Not in work!"

"Are you going to say anything?" This was the only question on my mind.

"Course not! Why would you even think that? Would you say anything?"

"No, but then..." My voice trailed off. I know it's a cliché, but it truly felt as though a weight inside me had been lifted. That nagging fear had gone in a trice.

"Thanks. I was worried," I found myself saying, "I couldn't think of anything else since then."

"Me neither..." he said, grinning madly again.

"I tried to call you on Friday. I just got your voice mail."

"I was on holiday, you idiot," he said, "didn't you remember?"

Now he mentioned it, it did seem familiar. I suppose that in the panic, the blur, I hadn't remembered. We fell silent again, sipping our coffee, I suppose trying to avoid each other's gaze, but not make it look as such.

"So," he started, "do you often wank in the showers?"

"No. Of course not," I lied. What else was I going to say? Yes, I find that it helps me get the fuck out of the office if I squirt a load in the shower before I leave for the weekend. "I'm so embarrassed about it. It was just, well... you know how these things go. I was just relieving tension, I suppose."

"Certainly was a surprise to see you relieving tension there!" he said, a smile breaking out on his face again.

"I could say the same thing. Your timing couldn't have been worse!" I said. It was my turn to smile.

"Or better!" he said, "Come on, let's go."

"Listen, thanks again." I said.

5

The next Thursday night, I was showering when Adam walked in again. I turned and saw him there and quickly turned away again, washing myself. I felt awkward, despite what he'd seen the previous week.

"I thought you'd gone home." I was certain I'd seen him leaving the office earlier.

"I had," he said, "I forgot something."

"Oh. I thought you were checking up on me," I laughed.

"Do I need to?"

"Check up on me? Of course not. I told you it was only a one-off."

"Liar," he replied, grinning away, "I bet you were about to do it. Perhaps I should stay and save you from yourself." I felt the familiar tingling of my cock starting to grow. His presence was exciting and I knew he was sat on a slatted bench opposite the showers, watching me wash.

"No I wasn't," I said, meaning quite the opposite. My cock was stiffening quickly.

"Not feeling as though you need to relieve tension then?" he asked with a laugh.

I didn't know what to say.

He went on, "I had a shower yesterday after work. I was feeling tense." Was he saying what I thought he was? That he had wanked in the shower too? My cock did a little twinge.

"And?"

"I found the shower really relieved it." His comments were hinting at so much, but gave nothing away. "I left feeling quite invigorated."

"Do you feel tense tonight?" I had to know what he meant.

"Yes, and this isn't helping either," he said, and after a pause, "Look, I know you've got a hardon, so you can stop pretending you're washing now." He was right. My cock was sticking out in front of me.

I turned the shower off and got out. "Why not?" I thought to myself. He knew, and he'd obviously come up here to see it. He looked at my cock jutting out, and I could see the bulge in his suit where his was obviously erect too.

"So what did you really come up here for?" I asked grabbing my towel. I started to dry myself.

"I was hoping I'd see you doing it again."

"That was rather presumptuous of you," I said.

"Not really, considering that I saw you cum last week, and now you're standing next to me with a hardon," he said with a grin.

"I thought you were rather freaked out by it. You really went quickly."

"I was," he replied, "but I couldn't stop thinking about it all weekend. Nor since then. I've never seen a cock. Well, not since school or whatever, and nothing like that, when you... " His voice trailed off.

"...came?" I asked.

He paused. "You should have seen the look on your face."

I started to dry my face and hair. He was only a foot away from me, and although I couldn't see, I knew he was looking at my erection again.

"Would you?" he asked, "do it again, I mean?"

"With you sat watching?" I asked, "It's weird."

"No more weird than last week. I'd really like to see it properly. You must want to." He nodded in the direction of my cock. I couldn't deny it. It was as stiff as a board, and it was begging to be touched.

"Let me sit down," I said, and he moved.

I put my towel down on the bench, sat on it, leaned back and spread my legs. My cock couldn't have been harder. I can't remember the last time that it felt so plump, so "out there". So full.

I wrapped my hand around it, and it was so sensitive I knew I would come in a trice. As I rubbed my foreskin back and forth, a little drop oozed out. It felt marvellous, spreading it around, letting it moisten me, allowing my foreskin to slip and slide like that. My hand took up the comfortable rhythm that it has known since childhood, and the warmth of excitement grew within me.

I was acutely aware of Adam's presence there, and though I felt a little uncomfortable, it wasn't enough to stop me! I've never liked to be the centre of attention, and this was like being on a stage under a very bright spotlight, judged by a critical audience. Nerve-wracking, and yet deeply intoxicating.

There wasn't a sound in that shower room, save for my breathing, which was coming in little gasps, modulated by my pumping. My foreskin was slipping back and forth easily, my cock appearing smoothly from within it with each sticky stroke. It was happening so quickly.

Adam was staring at me intently. His trousers were bulging, and he was squirming with discomfort from what looked to be a goodly erection. I was glad to see him fiddling with his cock through his trousers.

Suddenly I knew my orgasm was imminent. I sat up, pointed my cock at him while I wanked furiously. I heard myself say, "Oh my god!" in a guttural voice that wasn't quite mine, and my spunk jetted out in a graceful arc as my orgasm racked my body. Adam moved quickly to avoid being hit, and my spermy load fell with a splat to the floor.