An Intern's Fantasy

Over the next couple of days, I began to have recurring dreams of entering the morning A-train completely naked and trying to hide myself from Robert Barton and the other strangers in the car. I'd walk with Mr. Barton to the building and stand in the back corner of the elevator as we'd climb to the office. Sometimes in these dreams, people would laugh at me in the streets and other times they would completely ignore me. But, Robert would always be staring. I could never escape his gaze but he never said a word.

These dreams weren't much worse than my reality. I was fully clothed, of course, but I felt so exposed all the same. The first time I saw Robert on the train the morning after our miserable lunch, we exchanged the normal pleasantries but never made any kind of small talk. He busied himself in his paper to quell the awkward silence and I would bury myself in my phone. At work I had this feeling hanging over me that somehow everyone knew of my embarrassment even though I trusted Mr. Barton's discretion.

I'm sure I had lost some of my enthusiasm and energy and that my team could probably tell. All day, every day I could only think of Robert Barton: his face, his body, his suit, his kindness, his warmth, his smile and, most of all, my humiliation the last time we spoke. I tried hard to focus, fake some enthusiasm and hide my difficulties from my team. I was right when I warned myself to control my crush and I was certainly suffering the consequences now. I found myself sitting out on the balcony more frequently to get some air and space. I would stare out over the beautiful, green trees of Central Park and remind myself of everything this summer had to offer. I came here to experience New York City and Robert Barton was just a distraction. This new mindset helped immediately and I decided to start more proactively planning my evenings and weekends of things to do outside of work.

It also helped that Robert started disappearing from my morning train car. I wondered if he was avoiding me and worried that I was causing some undue trouble for him. It was helpful for me to not have to start every morning with the reminder of my embarrassment and my mood was definitely improving day by day. I enveloped myself in work and the city.

The following Monday, after being absent for three days, Mr. Barton was once again sitting in the train car as I entered.

"Good morning," I greeted him with a half smile.

"Good morning, Chris!"

"Welcome back!" I joked, as if he were my guest.

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "I've been off in LA for a few days meeting with board members. It was pretty miserable actually."

I was relieved to be sure that he wasn't hiding from me or anything. I felt like I was really beginning to move on from the whole incident and could hopefully just get back to the great internship experience and fun, exciting summer in the city.

In the elevator, I made small talk about the Knicks. My Mavericks were coming to town the next day and I told him how much fun it would be for me, since my team would surely beat his easily. He laughed and started to return a jibe when suddenly the elevator jolted and the light flickered. I instinctively reached out for the wall to stabilize myself and suddenly I started having difficulty breathing. I calmed down pretty quickly when I realized we were just stuck in place and not plummeting down or anything.

"You ok?" He asked looking at me.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Does this happen often?" He seemed so calm, like it was a regular occurrence.

"No, not in my experience."

He reached over and pushed the call button and informed an operator of our predicament. They told us that help would be over soon.

"Well, this could be a while," he sighed as he took a seat against the back wall.

It felt weird standing while he sat so I quickly took a seat as well.

"What are the odds?" He chuckled in disbelief.

My mind dissected what he meant by his question. What are the odds that the elevator gets stuck or what are the odds that the two of us get stuck in an elevator alone when there is still a weird tension hanging about?

I raised my eyebrows and sighed as well. "Good thing I'm early, I guess."

He mostly stared ahead while we sat, not making much eye contact.

"How is work going?"

"Pretty good," I replied. After a weird pause I decided to try and be less reserved and added: "It's been a little tough, honestly. I feel like I messed up pretty bad and I think that weight is probably manifesting in my work. I'm worried my team likely notices I haven't been the same guy."

"I'm really sorry, Chris. I hope I didn't lead..."

I cut him off. "No, no, please. You didn't do anything and you don't need to apologize. I am just trying to be honest about it because I feel like it's the only way we'll be able to move past this awkward stage. I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me or anything. It was my fault."

He looked at me. "Well, I think the feeling is mutual. But nothing was your fault. You were only being kind and paying a compliment. Let's just agree to not regret anything or dwell on it more than necessary. We're still lucky to have you around and I hope you enjoy your summer here. You been doing anything fun around the city?"

I told him some of the things I'd done and asked what I needed to do still in his opinion. He recommended some things but they were mostly things that people who weren't earning the minimum wage were able to enjoy. After a while, the responders came and fixed whatever issue was keeping us stuck and the elevator lifted to the 16th floor to let me out. I was relieved to be released from our trap but I was much more relieved to have had that conversation.

"Have a good day, Robert!"

The next morning in the elevator he offered me his tickets to the basketball game.

"Oh no, I couldn't take those. I appreciate the offer, sir."

He gave me a mildly stern look and I winced. I wasn't supposed to call him that.

"Tip off is at 6:00 and there is no way I'm going to make it out of here by then. It would be a waste for the box to be empty."

"Surely there is someone else that deserves those tickets. I'm just an intern."

"Chris, the whole point of the lunch was to show gratitude for your hard work and I feel like it was hardly a positive experience. I insist you take these, invite some friends, and enjoy an experience that is actually rewarding."

He held out the four tickets and repeated the stern look, insisting I take them.

"Thanks a lot, Rob!"

The door dinged to let me out and I thanked him again and told him to have a good day. I hid the tickets in my bag and texted Dave and two of my other roommates to free their evenings.

The suite was incredible. I'd only been to a handful of professional sports games and always had some of the cheapest seats you could get, so this was amazing. I lied to my roommates and told them that I had won a work contest to get the tickets. We enjoyed the suite, some food, and the game in which the Mavs won handily. It was a really memorable evening and I wished I could think of a way of properly thanking Rob for the tickets, but surely he had everything already.

I knew what I wished I could do to thank him and that night I dreamed exactly how it would unfold. I quietly entered his office without a word and knelt at his chair, tucking myself in between his legs and his desk. He opened his mouth to say something - to stop me, surely. But I rubbed his crotch through his trousers and whatever he had tried to say turned into a soft exhale instead. While rubbing his crotch in a circular motion I undid his belt buckle with my other hand. I stopped rubbing for a moment to use both hands as I unfastened his button and slid his zipper down, slowly, to its base. I looked in his eyes as I reached a hand in the open fly and squeezed his cock through his underwear. He was getting pretty rigid so I wanted to release his dick before it got uncomfortable. I pulled the front of his briefs down just enough to tuck it under his balls. With his legs spread, belt undone, and his hairy groin exposed, I leaned in close to lick his balls. I spent time on his sack while occasionally stroking the cock gently. I spent a few minutes there before licking my way up to the top of his cock and opening wide to take him all the way in. I plunged down and held all of it in my mouth with his trousers, belt and pubic hair all over my face. He started to pant and I was surprised at how quickly he was about to shoot. I grabbed his thighs with my hands and bobbed up and down as fast as I could when suddenly the beep of my alarm ended it all.

I turned it off and slammed my head in my pillow. I squeezed my eyes shut as tight as I could and tried to force myself back to sleep and back into my dream. I knew it was futile. I could easily go back to sleep but I would never jump back into that same dream. I had a painful erection throbbing in my underwear and I knew I would need to relieve myself in the shower. I was so upset at my alarm and I couldn't move on from it.

I was once again feeling a little guilty entering the train that morning to see Rob having just masturbated to my fantasies of being with him. We greeted each other and I scrolled through my phone as he read his paper.

"I hope you enjoyed the game!"

"Oh my goodness, the game!" I was embarrassed that I'd forgotten to thank him. "Thank you so much! I'm so sorry my mind is kind of occupied this morning. I'm off to a rough start. But, yes! We enjoyed the game so much. I can't thank you enough!"

"I'm glad to hear it. And if there's anything I can do to help your personal problem, please let me know."

I laughed inside, but kept a poker face and thanked him but assured him I'd be fine.

In the elevator, we talked about the game and I tried to convince him the Knicks would be good again soon, but honestly I wasn't even convincing myself. I could sense we would reach my floor soon so I wanted to say a real thank you before exiting.

"Thank you so much for the tickets, Robert. I'm going to think of a way to repay the favor."

"That's not necessary. I'm just glad you enjoyed the game. I don't think I would have." He chuckled and I smiled and wished him a good day.

My dream lingered in the back of my mind most of the work day. It was frustrating and distracting as I desperately tried to insert myself back in the dream. But you can never create the vivid nature in your imagination the same way a dream can make it feel like a real experience. I cursed my luck and tried to focus on my work and being productive. Later that afternoon, all the intern groups were called to a meeting again to go over next steps for our summer-long campaign projects and were told that we would be presenting again in two weeks to the advisors. The executive team wouldn't be involved in the presentations this time, but the advisors would select the two groups with the best work and they would be invited to a dinner party. I was excited because I was confident in my group's work and the party sounded like it could be fun.

After a week of productive work, our Play Doh campaign was really coming together and our group was proud of our ads. We had a couple magazine spreads designed, a billboard and a storyboard for an online video. Everything lined up well with the research and strategy that we had presented previously and we were excited to present. Since the executives weren't going to be in on this round of presentations, and Mr. Barton had offered to answer questions before, I decided I'd ask if he'd be willing to give feedback on our work.

On Monday morning as the train car doors opened, he was there as usual sitting comfortably with his morning paper. We exchanged our normal pleasantries and I asked him if he'd be willing to take a look. He was warm and kind and told me he'd be happy to and asked me to copy the files on a USB drive and we'd go straight up to his office to look at it Tuesday morning. I thanked him and left him to his paper. As usual, I would spend much of my morning commute staring at his body once I was sure his eyes were behind his paper. My heart stopped when I examined his crotch and was certain that his pants were beginning to tent out. Having had as much experience as I did stealing looks at his crotch, I knew he was definitely bulging and the excitement of both seeing it and wondering what had caused it was too much for me. Would he try to adjust it, or hide it? Or would he be afraid that I would see him adjust and that would only make it worse? Could he feel my stares? Did he know that I was always staring? My mind was racing with thoughts but none more so than the ultimate question - what set him off this morning that was getting him excited? I foolishly let myself believe for a moment that - just maybe - it could possibly be anticipation of meeting with me the next morning and the blood flowing to my own member was causing a throb as it was hidden beneath my bag. "Don't be dumb, Chris," I told myself. "He's already had to let you down once. He's straight and single, and he's probably just a little horny." I wondered how long it had been for him. He seemed too nice to hook up with someone for something casual and physical. He even seemed too righteous to relieve himself. And at our ill-fated lunch a couple weeks ago, he made it clear he lacked the confidence to put himself out there. For both our sakes, I wished I could help him. He seemed really big, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. Instead, I spent the rest of my ride staring at the tent in his pants and imagining what was beneath.

The next morning in the elevator, I brandished the USB and asked if he still had time to review the work and provide some feedback.

"Of course!" He pushed the button for his floor and asked how things have been going.

"Things have been going well! I'm really enjoying working with Mrs. Fisher's team and our intern group is working really well together too."

"I'm glad to hear it."

The door dinged and he showed me to his office for a second time. We chatted sports casually for a second while he started up his computer and then asked for the USB.

I handed it to him and watched as he bent over to plug it into his machine. He opened the folder and looked through the files of our ads.

"These are really good!" There was a genuine excitement in his voice as he looked from his screen back at me.

"I really can't take credit for much. I like to be involved in the creative process but when it comes down to execution, that is not my area, unfortunately. We have some awesome designers on our team."

"That's fair, but I mean the entire campaign. This is way beyond the level of interns from beginning to end: research, strategy, design, all of it."

"I appreciate that a lot, sir. And I'll be sure to let my team know, too."

"I look forward to meeting all of them, too. We'll want to keep as many of you as we can. I will have to look out for your team at the dinner party."

I was flattered that he just assumed we would be chosen as one of the outstanding groups. "Will you be at the party then?"

"Of course," he smiled. "It will be at my house."

"Oh, really?!"

"It's kind of my big thing. I have a fancy party at my house every summer for some of the employees who get recognized throughout the year."

"Wow, that must be a lot to handle."

"Oh, no. I just host, but I certainly can't say that I plan much of the event. I mean, I like to be involved, but I can't take much credit."

He smiled and I realized he mirrored basically what I had just said to him. He was so charismatic I couldn't understand how he managed to stay single for fifteen-odd years or however long he said it had been.

"Well, despite your compliments, I won't be taking it for granted that we get selected. I appreciate your time this morning, sir."

He handed me back my USB with that stern look he gives when I forget to not be so formal with him. "Anytime, Chris" he emphasized my name as if to reiterate that I should use his, too. "I look forward to seeing you and your group at my house for the party." His scowl turned back to the usual jovial self with a gleam in his eye. I left his office with a smile and headed back down to my desk.