I'm a regular guy working in a frenetic and high-pressure environment. Divorced with two grown children out in this world who are doing well independently. I've always had a charmed kind of life.
Growing up, I was the stud athlete with the looks that always got the girl with the looks. My parents did well, as did their parents, so you could say I come from money.
When I attended university, I did so on a full football scholarship, not that I needed it. Again, in college, as in high school, I had all the good-looking pussy that a person of my stature could have. I had so much pussy that my friends would hang around me just to see what I'd allow to trickle down to them.
I tried playing professional football, but that's where my athletic career would end. I was good, but I was not that good. So, I went to work. First for my father and then on my own. I did well enough to become president of my business, but then my private life crashed and burned.
Luckily my son and daughter were already off to university and fully understood that their father was an asshole that couldn't stay faithful to their mother. The divorce was amicable because, for me, there was no pressure.
My wife, she was relieved because she managed to put up with my shit long enough for our kids to grow up and have minds of their own before giving me the boot. Plus, we married young, and she still has the goods to go out into the world on her own and have a little fun.
So why am I here?
I think I'm gay. Not in the let me suck your dick, then you fuck me in the ass, gay. More like, you sure are pretty. I bet you'd look good in panties, and oh, by the way, suck my cock and let me fuck you, kind of gay.
Growing up, I'd always had these guys that I'd catch looking at me and then turn away, blushing. Lower-classmen or student trainers who'd taped my ankles in high school before games. Guy friends of girlfriends, guy friends of friend's girlfriends.
The pattern continued during my university years. We'd even laugh at them because it wasn't just me that this would happen to. There was always a teammate or two that would notice as well because it would happen to them. We'd laugh and joke, calling them sissies and whatnot but never really giving them a second thought.
Then, I got divorced and was going through this self-pity phase. How could I be so stupid? Why couldn't I ever be satisfied with my wife? Why, why, why, why! I'm sure you get the picture. Until I said fuck it! I'm just going to concentrate on my job and my business and stop chasing skirts.
Yeah, that's what I'm going to do. That was going to be my plan. The great pussy sabbatical! Then things kind of went awry.
Scott is this kid; I say kid because he's a kid to me. He's twenty-five, fresh out of school. He works in the lower levels, and the first time I saw him was when he accompanied his direct supervisor to one of our project meetings.
The meeting had ended, and I was still reviewing some of the proposed plans for the project. I was sitting at the end of the long meeting table because it was my meeting, and I was the boss, so yeah, there I was. Leaning back in the chair, turned to the side, legs stretched out, feet crossed at the ankles.
Just because I'm not chasing pussy doesn't mean my cock doesn't get hard. I've had to deal with surprise hard-ons since I started my pussy sabbatical, and unbeknownst to me, I had a nice bit of wood right at that moment. I was so enthralled in reading the document in my hand that I hadn't noticed Scott return to the room needing me to sign off on some documents.
"Mr. Francona, I'm sorry to bother you, but Miss Andrews sent me back to get your signature on the agreed-upon proposals so she can get funding to start the process."
I'm sitting there, legs stretched out, half a hardon, my crotch in all its pride for anyone to behold, and my mind on this fucking document in my hand; sure, why not.
"Yeah, kid, bring it here," I blurted out. I didn't even bother to look at him as he made his way down the path to stand beside my feet.
I don't know how long he had stood there, but I suddenly felt him and glanced up.
Because I'd only moved my eyes, he didn't notice, but I noticed. His eyes were in a trance, staring at my bulge. I wondered how long it would take him to look back at me. For the first time that something like this happened to me, some wanna be staring at my junk; I started to feel some arousal.
I was thinking how much power I held over this kid, that he was risking so much to stare at the crotch of the boss of his boss. He had no clue what I would do if I caught him, the damage this little event could hold for him.
So, I waited.
