I work in an office, mainly shuffling paper and answering telephones. Most of my work-colleagues are ignorant of the fact that I'm into cock, rather than pussy. It's not that I keep it secret, I just don't make a big deal of it.
I've got internet access at work, but it's monitored so I save my serious porn-surfing until I get home. I settle down in front of my computer with a few beers, and a roll of toilet-paper. This particular evening, I'd had a terrible day at work. My boss, Gerry, was riding me all day - and not in a good way. Gerry's a big lad, and fairly intimidating when he gets going. I'm not a pussy, but he fucks me off sometimes the way he carries on.
I had a quick tension-breaking toss almost immediately, and then went to look for some new stuff. I'm into amateur porn - real guys (and sometimes guys with gals) who've had photos taken of them. I was trying out a new site - the name and address don't matter.
I was browsing the directory, my softened cock poking out of my boxers, when I spotted a bunch of popular photos on a spanish site entitled just "G" and decided to have a look.
I nearly choked on my beer. The first picture was my boss, Gerry, wearing jogging bottoms and a rugby-shirt, smiling at the camera. I was sure there must be a mistake, and I leant rightup to the screen to check. No mistake. It was Gerry, my boss. I clicked the next picture, sure there must be a mistake.
No mistake. There was Gerry sat at his computer, almost naked except for a pair of y-fronts, hairy as all hell. He was looking at something on the screen, and whatever it was was turning him on. That was obvious from the tent he sported. He was leaning with his chin in one hand, and his iron-hard prick was obviously bursting to get free. It looked like he was using a webcam.
I felt my prick start to stir again. I must admit, I'd fantasized about Gerry before a couple of times. I'd never seen him anything other than fully dressed though.
The third picture was "paydirt". Gerry was sitting with his legs wide open and the crotch of his y-fronts pulled to the side. He was grinning at the camera, and his half-solid prick was peeking naughtilly out of the side of his underwear. I could see he had a foreskin, and a few teasing glimpses of crotch-hair. He was grinning, and from the glistening on his hairy belly and his thigh he'd just finished wanking.
I clicked on. Three more pictures completed the set; Gerry naked in the shower with what looked to be a sexy seven-inch boner, soaped and lathery. Gerry on all fours pulling his arse cheeks apart, pink hairy arsehole bared. He had a tattoo, a black celtic circle it looked like, at the base of his spine. The final picture was Gerry sat on the edge of what I assumed was his bed, his head back and his eyes closed, his boner in his hand - in two hands really. I grabbed my own cock, staring at the picture, and I jerked myself off until I came. It was a real orgasm, and by the time I went to bed that night I was covered in sweat.
* * *
The next day at work was torture. Almost as soon as I got in I was Gerry and my dick started to harden. I had to sit at my desk thinking boring thoughts, trying to concentrate, but every time I saw him all I could think of was the cheeky way his dick peeked out of his y-fronts. I imagined him tossing himself off wearing his red rugby shirt. I imagined him on his hands and knees in front of me with his arse cheeks wide apart . . . in short, I was feeling like a randy teenager. I retired to the toilet and stroked myself into a red-hot frenzy, then released myself with a few firm hand-jerks.
Gerry came over when I got back to my desk, and asked me for some files. I hadn't done the work, I'd been too busy fantasising, and he asked me what I was playing at. He obviously sensed something was up because he frowned at me a little bit. I could hardly say "I'm imagining what your cum tastes like" could I? So I said the first thing that came into my head and asked if he had a tattoo.
