I just started a new training class at work. A whole bunch of us are being drafted into a new department due to the "needs of the business." Most of the people aren't too happy about it, since it's a sales-type of department. We'll get our base pay, plus an incentive; not a commission, but an incentive. I've decided to have a positive attitude about it - it is, after all, the opportunity for more money. Why do one job and only get so much money per hour, when I can do another job, and make a little extra if I do it well. I understood why some people weren't happy about it, but I figured I'd make the best of it I could.
I like to get there early, because to me, on time is half an hour late. Plus, the room we're training in has sixteen computers for the twenty one of us. No good. I like to have my own computer, I'm very hands on like that. I had hoped but did not receive the opportunity to have the computer all to myself. No big deal. A guy who had protested being drafted came in twenty minutes late and the only available seat was next to me. I suppose he was continuing his protest, but whatever. I noticed that he smelled like vanilla...it was nice to have him nearby. His name was Alexandro, with the "x" sounding like an "h," but he told me to call him Alex.
The next day, the procedure was the same. Except by this time, enough people were either "sick" or got booted out of the class for being late too much, there were computers for everyone, which made it rather confusing but pleasing nonetheless when he sat next to me again, not at a computer of his own. I guess he wanted to get booted from the class, but couldn't risk the pay we were getting for the otherwise boring class.
During down time, we would chat about which departments we'd come from, but mostly about his...he wasn't very inquisitive, but I decided to ask lots of questions because he did all his work in spanish, so I was curious about how it differed from the work I'd been doing.
For the third day, I overslept. As I raced through my shower - I never leave my house without a shower - and down the road I chided myself for putting my alarm clock so close I could turn it off without even waking up. I vowed to move my alarm clock when I returned home. Arriving at our usual classroom, I found out we'd been moved to yet another, smaller room. I almost felt bad about going in so late (half an hour) until I saw Alex rounding the corner toward our new room. I was two seconds behind him getting there and I think we noticed the same thing at the same time: this room was even smaller, and there was one computer left with two chairs waiting for us. Since he was ahead of me, he got to the computer first and signed on. Today, I would only be able to watch.
I tried to pay extra attention, since I learn by doing, and Alex was the one doing, I had to write down each step in this new program so that I could refer to my notes later on. What I also started to notice, was the number of times Alex grabbed himself, or readjusted his crotch. How he adjusted anything I wasn't sure. He wore his jeans so lose and baggy, it would seem he had enough space for two of him to fit in there. Regardless, it was starting to turn me on, which in turn, required that I adjust myself. I was trying to do it in a less obvious manner, but since his manner was to just reach down and grab what was there, and mine was to squirm around, he was probably doing a better job than I.
Since our state has laws about required breaks and all, and since we were in class, we all took our breaks at the same time. Each day we got two fifteen minute breaks and a thirty minute lunch break. When our teacher let us go for our first fifteen, I headed as quickly as I could toward the third floor. There was a restroom there that was hardly used, and I liked my privacy, especially when I had raging hard ons.
The third floor restroom was very clean. Not to say that the rest weren't - my building had excellent janitorial staff - just to say that since it was so infrequently used, cleaning it was always well done. I had hoped while I had my cock out and was pissing so hard against the urinal that it was almost splashing back at me that when I heard the door open it was the janitorial staff. I was wrong. I noticed that the visitor didn't take the urinal two down from me, but the one right next to me. Doesn't this violate some sort of man-code?
"That class just seems to be getting more and more boring, doesn't it, buddy?"
It was Alex. It wasn't until then that I could smell his vanilla scent. "Yeah, I guess so."
"And it doesn't help when you're too hard to concentrate."
"Heh. I guess you noticed?"
"Noticed what? I'm talking about myself. Bitch girlfriend wouldn't put out last night."
"Oh. Sorry to hear that." I decided to not answer his question.
"Damn, look at this, pissed my brains out and Shorty's still hard as a rock." He turned toward me so I could see his "Shorty."
I thought I'd heard just about everything guys call their dicks, but "Shorty" wasn't one of them. But since he did invite a peek, I peeked and I was surprised to see that Shorty was no shorty. What he had sticking out of his fly was at least 7.5 inches and thick. I'm sure my eyes bulged out a little, and what progress I had made in deflating my own dick by ignoring any sexual thoughts was quickly dismantled. I could feel it growing back to full mast, which was pathetic compared to Alex's meat.
"You like it?"
"It's, um, it's impressive."
"Yeah. Years ago, I could get any chick I wanted and it didn't matter how old they were, they all felt tight. But I've been with my old lady for so long, man, once they give you a couple of kids, the sex just isn't the same. Can't ever get the same satisfaction." He was stroking his cock, keeping it hard while he talked.
I was still staring at his cock. "Oh." That was all I could muster. I still couldn't look away. And clearly he noticed.
"You want to touch it?"
"I shouldn't."
"Why? You got cooties? Go ahead, touch it." He took a few steps toward.
I reached out.
Big mistake. HUGE. God, it was so warm and I could feel it pulsing under my fingers. I had to try to wrap my whole hand around it. I was successful, but just barely. For some reason, I don't know why, he pulled his balls out of his shorts. They too were huge, and heavy. And then, I don't get this either, I started to run my hands up and down his length. I guess it was sheer amazement. Couldn't have been curiosity. I'd seen plenty of dicks before. Maybe not his size, but I used to think once you've seen one, you've seen them all. That had to be a lie.
"Suck my dick for me."
I wish I'd made him repeat himself. Instead, I was on his cock so fast that the word "eager" didn't describe it. I had my right hand holding his balls in my palm while my thumb and forefinger wrapped around his base, and my left hand jerking the half of his dick I couldn't fit in my mouth. His head alone almost filled my mouth, but I've had years of practice. But years of practice didn't prepare me for something so long AND so thick.
"Oh yeah," he said. "Damn that feels good. You like that Shorty?"
"Mmhmm," I said, not bothering to stop what I was doing, what I was tasting.
"Cock-hungry little faggot, aren't you?"
