My name is James, I'm a straight married guy, about 5-11, 190, shaved head, average amount of chest and body hair, all with an auburn brown tint, and I work for a manufacturing company that owns eight production facilities clustered around Chicago and two far-flung plants, in California and Massachusetts. I've managed the Massachusetts plant for two years and have taken on the mentorship of the new California plant manager, Steve, also married, who's probably barely 5-10, about the same build - we're both pushing 'dad bod' territory.
We're about the same age, mid forties, he has two teenaged kids, and I have three in their twenties, so although we haven't met formally, we hit it off pretty quickly during our Zoom training conferences, which I schedule with him every two weeks.
But as September approached, we were both looking forward to meeting up at our biannual three day trip to the Headquarters for strategic planning meetings with all the plant managers. The company is rather conservative, both fiscally and philosophically, so the experience is a 'no frills' bore-fest arranged by the three corporate vice presidents in the conference room of the largest plant. The company even requires the other plant managers to commute from home to the sessions every day, which generates a considerable amount of jealousy towards the Massachusetts and California plant managers, Steve and me, who are given the use of a nearby Airbnb for our stay.
I had figured out last year that the condo was owned by one of our corporate vice presidents, who was probably gouging the company to rent it. The only extravagance was the dinner provided at the end of the first day of meetings, but no alcohol was allowed for any company funded outings, and for the rest of the evenings, we were on our own.
It was my fourth trip, so I had given Steve the full lowdown on what to expect. We were fortunate to have arrival times at the airport within an hour of each other, so we arranged to meet at the car rental desk, where our shared company-arranged vehicle awaited. We tossed our luggage in the trunk and I took the wheel for our long ride to the Airbnb. Our conversation was easy and light; we joked about kids and both agreed that our wives would probably not miss us, with their own interests to occupy them while we were gone. We even commiserated on the rarity of 'alone' time with our wives, between parental demands and the effects of pre-menopause on our wives' sex drives. It was a great opportunity to further cement our friendship.
The apartment was newly painted since my last visit, but was definitely showing its age. Furniture was dated, bathroom doors had to be leaned into to fully close and the air conditioning was noisy, but the shower had been upgraded to a full body spray, which made sense considering the VP who owned the place was a very large overweight guy. Only with this type of shower would all of him get washed!
After we inhaled the pizza we had delivered, Steve claimed the shower first and I hit the building's fitness room down the hall for a treadmill session. When I returned, Steve was in his bedroom, door closed, so I jumped in the shower. My first experience with the warm shower washing all over me was stimulating in ways I never imagined.
I'm a 'grower' not a 'shower' and the jet spray hit me just the right way, causing my cock to spring to its full seven inches as I soaped up and leisurely massaged it for just a bit. Wanting to save my energy for a bedtime stroke session, I finished showering and stepped out, throwing a towel around my dangling, precum-dripping cock.
The bathroom had two doors, each one opening into one of the two bedrooms. I headed towards my room when I heard an incoming call vibration and turned to see Steve's cell phone on the vanity, and a notification on it that his assistant plant manager was calling. I grabbed the phone, approached Steve's bedroom door, and, as I knocked, the latch released from the striker, allowing the door to swing open. Now, the rooms are set up with the bed's headboard along the wall next to the bathroom door, so my line of sight was diagonally across the bed from headboard to footboard, and what I glimpsed was a startled and shirtless Steve pulling the bedspread over his hard cock as he turned onto his side towards me so as to not pitch a considerable tent under the covers. But my attention was diverted to his laptop on the side of the bed nearest me.
Steve had apparently been watching porn, and I clearly saw an incredibly sexy dark haired woman straddling a very athletic looking guy with a shaved head. She was bracing herself as she bounced on his cock, which was fully engulfed in her hairy, wet pussy. And in that brief amount of time before Steve was able to reach over to shut his laptop, I saw the camera pan up toward the guy's face, to where he was sucking on another guy's hard cock!
I suddenly remembered why I knocked and stammered out to Steve that his phone was going off in the bathroom. A very red-faced Steve managed to stutter out an apology - not sure if it was for leaving his phone in the bathroom or for how I walked in on his jack-off session- and reached across the bed to take the phone. I retreated to the bathroom, pulling his door shut, trying to process everything I saw.
As I overheard Steve talking to his manager about some equipment failure issue, I was racing through options on addressing what just happened. If I said nothing and just went to my bedroom, Steve would be left embarrassed, maybe feeling a little ashamed, and definitely concerned about our friendship. I couldn't let that happen, so, as I could hear his phone call end, I knocked softly and he invited me in.
I could tell that he was in emotional agony when he started talking as soon as I walked in.
"James, I am so embarrassed. What I was doing was unprofessional, inappropriate..."
I interrupted, "Whoa, Steve, no, you're fine. Hey, these doors don't stay shut, and, well, if your phone hadn't gone off, honestly...I was heading to bed to do the same thing you were, except I only have my tiny phone for porn!"
Steve took a second to get it, before a look of relief appeared on his face. "I guess we have a lot in common," he laughed.
With the tension of the moment alleviated, I approached and sat on the side of the bed, offering my hand, asking, "We're all good then?"
"We're good!" Steve responded, his hand grasping mine firmly.
