I live in a very expensive condo in one of the most exclusive and prestigious buildings in town. Most of my neighbors are very wealthy retirees. They generally purchase their condo's with cash. I have a five-year plan where my condo will not only be paid off in full, but I will also have a net worth in seven-figures -- yes, you heard me right -- I am thirty years-old and will be a millionaire by the time I'm thirty-five, sooner if my investments return more than I anticipate.
Yes, my life is great right now, but I would like to get back out on the dating circuit. I haven't had a date with a woman in over six-months, and a committed relationship in years. That has been my choice. I have given my work a hundred percent concentration but now I feel the need for female companionship. Shouldn't a guy be able to be successful without feeling so lonely?
Besides, rumor has it my boss is being transferred and I may be in line to take his job. However, our company is very conservative as are our customers and it's a fact that married men have a much greater chance for promotions than unmarried men.
I've also heard baseless gossip behind my back concerning my sexuality. How can a smart and attractive thirty year-old man NOT be married? He MUST be gay, some have concluded. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but the mere mention of homosexual perversions would get me fired and ruin my life.
Needless to say, I work so much my sex life has been non-existent unless you count masturbation as sex -- which I do, hahaha...
I like to think I have elevated jerking-off into an art form -- no, seriously...you see, I don't do it the way most guys do, stroking their dicks until they shoot a load in the air...no, my way requires less work, and I must say, my climaxes are nothing short of sensational.
What is my secret, you ask? Well, to start with you must have a foreskin. If I didn't have one I would have been doomed to a lifetime of groping and stroking like the average guy, but I discovered early on, and by accident really, that when my foreskin completely covers my glans and I shoot my load into the foreskin -- OH MY GOD - my brain nearly explodes and I flop around on the bed like a fish out of water - FANTASTIC!!
When I began having fantasies of girls and sex and I'd spring a boner, I was sharing a bedroom with my older brother. I knew I had to be as quiet as possible. My natural inclination was to open my pajama bottoms and take hold of my hard-on and stroke it as fast as I could. Fine and dandy, but when the fluids began leaking from my dick and I closed the foreskin over it, there was a loud, squishy noise I was afraid my brother could hear it.
Frustrated, I rolled over onto my stomach to go to sleep but my dick was still hard. My erection was trapped tightly between the mattress and my belly and it felt sooo good my hips began a grinding movement pressing my dick harder and harder against the mattress.
My foreskin was closed tightly over the glans and when I shot my load -- OH MY GOD -- it was the greatest moment of my life - I was hooked forever!
Years later I learned my way of jacking-off is called 'the friction method' used primarily by very young and immature boys...I don't care -- 'the friction method' never fails to give me the most explosive and satisfying of orgasms.
There is, however, one unfortunate side-effect: orgasms I've had with females have NEVER come close to what I can do all by myself.
Well, I guess there are TWO unfortunate side-effects...since I bring myself off better than any female can, I do not feel the compulsion or need to seek out and do everything I can to find a satisfying relationship with a woman.
To be honest about it, I couldn't care less. Most women's cunts are dank and dark caverns. I've had little or no sensation when I have stuck my dick into them. I freely admit I've never satisfied a woman with my dick. No, I've been forced to grovel between their legs with my lips and tongue to bring them off, and I don't have to tell you how distasteful and repugnant it is eating-out a smelly pussy.
I think for the sake of my career though, I should get back into the dating arena. I can always hold my breath or breathe thru my mouth when I am pleasuring them.
Where was I? Oh, yeah...anyway, several months ago Dustin was hired as a mailboy at work. He's a good-looking and personable young man, maybe a little on the cocky-side, but very friendly.
I immediately took a liking to him. I admired his self-confidence and the way he smiled at me whenever he stopped by my office and engaged me in conversation.
He was not a typical twenty-one year old. He treated me as though we were equals, and sometimes made remarks to me I thought were somewhat disrespectful considering he was just a mailboy, and I am a top-earning consultant.
In less than a week he went from addressing me properly to saying "Hi cutie" when he greeted me. I blushed but didn't correct him and a week after that when he said "Hi cutie" he also smiled and winked at me. My face turned so red I had tears in my eyes.
I am grateful he is very discreet and careful not to say those things when other employees are within earshot, but still, it was getting out of hand and I needed to put a stop to it. On his afternoon mail run I quietly said to him, "Dustin, we need to talk after work."
His eyes bugged wide and a huge smile spread across his ruggedly handsome face.
"Sure thing, cutie, your place or mine?" he asked with a wink and that damned smile still plastered on his face.
I blushed and had to momentarily look away until I regained my composure.
"No-no," I said, "nothing like that...no, uh, some place public where we don't know anyone, would be best..."
"Well, there's a bar on the northside of town where I am positive we won't run into any of our co-workers -- it's called 'Chaps' and they have a great happy hour from 4 to 7...want to meet me there?" he asked eagerly.
From the excited tone in his voice I could tell he thought of my offer as a social activity, not strictly business as I intended. No matter, I'll correct his mistake later at the bar.
"Okay, sure, I'll meet you there," I said.
Again with that winking. "You're gonna love this bar, cutie, and they're gonna love you, too," he said then walked away.
What the heck does that mean? I wondered.
***
The most difficult aspect of my job is having to discipline co-workers. To make it even worse, Jennifer is a co-worker who I had a brief affair with less than six-months ago. We parted as friends, I think, but the silence between us has been deafening.
Not only had we been to bed together, but she and I had been up for the same promotion shortly after our affair ended. Even though she had more seniority, and is extremely capable in her work, I was awarded the promotion over her.
The companies we deal with are ultra conservative and old fashioned. Many of them view aggressive women like Jennifer suspiciously. I am part of 'the good-old-boys' network and she is not.
I admit she should have been given the promotion, and it wasn't the first time the company discriminated against a woman. Needless to say, it has been awkward, but we are both professionals and go on about our business in a professional manner.
I suppose I am not very well-liked by the other associates either, but I'm here to do a job and not win a popularity contest. I wouldn't be where I am today if I worried whether my fellow employees liked me or not.
Sure, I've had to sacrifice my social life to advance in the company, but I am on target to retire by the time I am fifty and I will have more money than I could ever spend for the rest of my life.
***
On the drive to meet the mailboy at the bar my nerves finally settled from my confrontation with Jennifer over our newest account. I don't handle face-to-face disputes very well. I was simply following thru on direct orders from our CEO in New York.
He told me to take over the Marsden account from Jennifer. The Marsden people were put off by Jennifer's style and the CEO wanted someone like me to make them happy.
The account would make the consultant a very, very steady and impressive commission, and I tried my best to assure Jennifer I was acting on orders from our CEO, not out of selfish greed. I don't think she believed me. Oh well, not much I can do about that...
There were a handful of cars in the back parking lot of the bar. I locked my BMW and walked towards the door. Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.
What are those two guys doing? I wondered.
I stared at two men sitting in the backseat of one of the cars. Oh my God, are they kissing? I had to focus my eyes to believe what I was staring at. Sure enough, not only were they kissing, but the guy sitting next to the door was moving his arm up-and-down very quickly in the lap of the other guy. What the hell?
And then I understood what I was looking at -- Oh-my-God, he's giving the guy next to him a handjob -- I quickly averted my eyes and stared at the back door of the bar and hurried inside.
There were only about a dozen or so customers, all men, and I saw Dustin sitting by himself on a bar stool with a glass of beer in front of him.
I sat next to him and ordered a Perrier from the friendly bartender. "Right away, cutie," he said with a smile.
I sat in stunned silence while Dustin laughed and remarked, "See -- I told you you're cute!"
I looked around at the other male customers and asked Dustin, "What kind of place IS this?"
"What do you think it is?" he shot back at me.
"Oh my God, this is a queer bar, isn't it?" I said more as a comment than a question.
"Why are you acting so surprised?" he asked me. "Didn't you see those two guys in the back seat on your way inside?"
And then another thought occurred to me. "Are you gay?" I asked him.
