I had pushed for hiring him. Stuart that is. The 21year old cutie who had applied to work at the hospital storeroom I supervised. HR had assented without fuss. He was a clean-cut college boy, dark-haired, firm-arsed and enthusiastic. So at least one attribute HR would have noticed and approved of. The other 3 were what appealed to me.
He started work and was quickly taken in by the rest of the staff (actually just 3 other lads and me as storeroom supervisor -- a different pay grade, but really not much between what I did and the rest). He was pleasant, hard working, and generally all round likeable. And I had it bad for him.
I was already 40 and while in pretty good shape, had definitely lost the boyish good looks and twunk bod of yesterday. I've been in a fairly stable open relationship with a guy who I came up with on the gay scene two decades ago, but I've never lost my lust for the twink types. I'm always susceptible to the charms of a slim pretty boy of 19-25 with a cute face, healthy cock and smooth arse.
Of course, there are twinks who do prefer older guys, but many of the ones on the scene (including myself in my younger days) don't really fancy dudes much past their 20s. At least, not in a direct sense; just like I did, these twinks, well aware of the power of their attraction for older dudes, often play the latter for rewards and if the do eventually allow them to get some of their ass, assume a dominant role. They enjoy watching us middle aged guys humiliate ourselves chasing them and get their own kicks by treating us as their bitches when it comes to the wild stuff. If it comes.
Doesn't stop me though. In fact, I find it kinda hot being slapped around and made to beg to get some fresh young boy-hole and dick. And that's exactly what I wanted from Stuart.
See, I knew he was gay though you'd never be able to tell by looking at him. The only reason I knew was that I'd clocked him at a gay bar in the city. I'd been immediately smitten. So him getting the job was priority for me. Would he be grateful? And I was now his boss. Would that count for anything?...
One Friday evening we were alone in the stores after a slow day. It's a private hospital with only a few operating theatres and no ER, so there's not much pressure, especially on Fridays. Stuart was stacking shelves on a stepladder as I passed to get to the office. His beautiful firm buns protruded and the top of his cracked peeped alluringly from over the waist of his combats as he reached up. I couldn't restrain myself. I extended my arm and gave those preachy cheeks a firm pinch.
"Hey!" he called down nearly dropping the pack he was stacking "what the fuck was that, dude?"
I smiled up at him. He didn't look entirely objectionable.
"oh, you know. Just being friendly son. Thought you'd like to know the boss is pleased." I laughed.
He returned a giggle
"yeh, I know the boss is happy with my twerk. Kinda copped that one a while back. So you often perving young dudes working here?" he said as he jumped down off the ladder and came right up in my face. I smiled uneasily and backed into the office. He followed and slammed the door. Was this a game or something serious?
Fortunately, it was the former.
