Gyration
Information technology is a competitive field. I'd been working in it for at least a decade. It's a male-dominated field, which means that there's always some percentage of creeps and criminals out there, looking for the easy way to get over on someone else.
I had previously secured a major patent for one of my technical processes. The trade press had talked about me by name, and I was making more than a decent living.
Luckily, my good finances allowed me a considerable amount of comfort - nice apartment, nice neighborhood. And, as a single gay man, I had plenty of freedom. My area had lots of eye candy - at restaurants, at stores, at bars and pubs, everywhere. Being middle-aged prevented me from having more fun, but my confidence in my wealth gave me a confidence that didn't stop some hotties younger than me - gay and straight both, I'm convinced - from approaching me to flirt. It's been said that confidence is the ultimate aphrodisiac. After struggling through my 20s and 30s to feel like I fit, I'd hit my stride.
One slow night - a Tuesday, I think it was - I was at a local pub just chilling. I had just ordered a drink and I was about to pick it up from the counter when my cell phone lit up. It was a trade publication I'd been trying to speak to for months. Excited, I immediately got wrapped up in the conversation, which had to have run for about a half-hour. As I'm wont to do, I got up from my barstool and strolled about, exchanging data and information with their representative, totally immersed in the call.
After about a half-hour of this, exhilarated, I sat back down to my drink, in which the ice had melted more. I looked at my smartwatch and figured I'd better wrap up. It was getting late.
When I came to more than (had to be) two hours later, I found myself laying spread eagle, face up, on a flat but very comfortable examining table, a little like one of the kind that pregnant women sit on when they're about to deliver. Except this wasn't one of those. This one was not inclined. The bottom part made an inverted "V" shape, and my legs were strapped to either side of it, parted at a noticeable angle.
As a matter of fact, my entire body was strapped down. And I realized - to my surprise - that someone had stripped me naked. I was secured in place on the table, but not to the point of pain. I could have been wigged out, but I wasn't. I was...intrigued.
The rest of the room, which appeared to be a laboratory of sorts, was dark. Only a light overhead illuminated the table I was on, and the immediate area around it.
"Are you surprised?" a handsome voice said.
"Ummm, yeah," I managed. "But what's all this? What's going on?"
A dark-haired guy in his late 20s walked slowly - and in a sultry manner I'd have to say - up to the table. He was slender, perhaps about 5-10, not the tallest guy. He had flawless skin, and his face was sweet and kind, perhaps even affectionate, pretty enough to model, with zero blemishes. Although I had no idea what was happening, I at least liked this guy immediately. A rainbow bracelet on his left arm telegraphed he was gay like me. At least there was that. I guess the universe thought I needed a bit of adventure.
But it was his outfit that made me stir sexually. He was wearing a charcoal gray hoodie croptop that gently swayed as he walked around the table. A matching pair of the same color sweat pants covered what I'm guessing were two quite healthy legs. And the two garments framed a lovely, unrippled, flat midriff area, on which was centered a fairly sizable, fleshy, oval outie bellybutton.
My penis got hard immedately.
"I see you like my outfit," the guy said.
"Yes, it's quite...unique," I responded, with a half-sigh, half-laugh.
"I guess you're wondering why you're here."
"Ummm...that would be nice to know, yes, although I must confess I'm liking the visuals. Who are you?"
"I'm Kelly."
I cocked my head slightly to one side, my intuition kicking in. "I'm going to guess that you know who I am."
"Yes," Kelly said, "I know. We know."
"
We
?"
"Word has it that you're a smart man. A
very
smart man. And I'm working with interests to accumulate...intelligence."
"Oh, you mean my tech work."
