Being the boss doesn't come with as many advantages as people tend to think. Yes, I make the most of all my employees but I also work the most hours and do the most in those hours. I have to coordinate, train, exhort, hire and fire people all the time. And while I can hire or promote someone just for being hot, if I'm careful to have more work appropriate reasons as well, I can't fuck them because it's an HR nightmare.
Case in point: I recently promoted two college aged guys, one to head cashier and the other into entry level management. They both work under me, but not in the way I'd like (if you catch my drift.)
Ethan was part time for a couple years and grown from a cute kid to a promising young manager. Take the sexy grin and cub-like build of Marko LeBeau (from Men Of Montreal) and give him Macklemore's hair and Seth Rogen's beard and put him in those stupid "jogger" khakis the kids like and that's Ethan. Luckily those joggers make his ass look huge so I'm ok with them even if I'm supposed to uphold the "Dockers style pants" line in the dress code. Hey, I let the lesbian warehouse coordinator wear cargo pants so I'm equal opportunity here.
Joaquín was the newly promoted head cashier who could cash in on some head, know what I mean? He was a tall pansexual Hispanic dude with hair like the coolest lesbian at Dr Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters and a gap in his teeth I'd like to floss with my pubes. I know, gross. But he had a lip ring that drew attention to his pillowy lips that would feel good on a dick. Mine, yours, his own, doesn't matter. Everyone but me called him Jay because they couldn't pronounce his "funny" name.
I ran a smallish store so everyone knows everyone else and these two guys, being pretty close in age, hung out sometimes. I'd also heard they like a lil' recreational medication. Ethan was straight but I'd heard from the previously mentioned warehouse coordinator that he got handsy when he smoked and Joaquín was more than happy with that. It hadn't gone beyond a little feeling up, from what I heard.
This information was of no use to me, because as their boss I had to stay hands off and as a married man I needed to stay hands off. My husband had cheated once and we had worked through it but I was not going to give him the satisfaction of making the same mistake. I was the bigger person and I liked it that way.
It was a Sunday evening in the middle of summer, still light out, when Ethan and I closed up shop for the night. We walked to the exit and I saw Joaquín's van sitting in our back in the employee parking area.
"Hey boss, do you mind dropping the deposit yourself tonight? I got a ride with Jay and it's not on his way."
"No prob, I have some paperwork I wanted to catch up on. I'll lock up behind you and get that done before I head out."
"Thanks, you're the coolest Mr. Johnson"
I shook my head. No matter how many times I told Ethan to call me by my first name, he insisted on calling me Mr. Johnson. I was only about 10 years older than him, I wasn't really a "Mister." Ok, maybe 15 years older but who's counting?
After securing the bank bag in the safe in my office, I reopened my payroll files. Since it was a warm summer night I propped the outer door open to let a breeze in and enjoy the little bit of light left in the sky.
I was balls deep in payroll spreadsheets and schedules when I smelled the unmistakable scent of burning leaves. Not maple or oak, more grassy. Herbal. I poked my head out of the door and knew it was coming from the direction of the employee parking lot. Should I check if the boys were still out there? It's my store so it's my business. If it wasn't illegal, I wouldn't care.
After a brief debate I locked the door and walked around the corner to check out the situation. The van loomed before me, the windshield facing the never ending cornfield next door. As I approached the vehicle, I heard soft grunts and moans. I didn't see any smoke through the partially opened driver's window but no people were sitting in the seats either.
Should I knock? Clearly someone is in there, and no one else is around to cause the weed smell still lingering in the area. I'll just tell them they need to find someplace else to toke up.
Coming around to the front of the van, I could see clear through to the back. Behind the two captain's chairs, the other seats had been removed and replaced with a couple of bean bags and pillows. An upturned bucket provided a resting place for a glass pipe, no longer smoldering, and two bottles of iced tea. I barely registered all this because sprawled out on the pile of cushions was Ethan, shirtless, and Joaquín with his hands in Ethan's joggers and his pillowy lips on Ethan's large pink nipples.
Joaquín's head was engaged with an expanse of hairy flesh and Ethan's head was lolled back expelling those moans I'd heard earlier so neither saw me peeping through the windshield.
Warring inside of me was the desire to stand there and watch these two young lovers and see where they lead and the responsibility to announce myself and get them to take their shaggin' wagon elsewhere.
As I stood there, Ethan began pushing his pants down his soft, white thighs. They were meaty and hairy and I ached to run my fingers, my nails and my tongue up and down them. His crotch was obscured by Joaquín's hand feverishly working in his black briefs. He wasn't stroking the cock. He seemed to be running his fingers along the taint.
Joaquín moved to pull the underwear down as well, leaving only socks as the only clothing left on his partner's body. He pulled his lips away from their nipple pleasuring duty and unbuttoned his own shirt and yanked his shorts off in two quick motions, revealing a jock strap.
The two young men kissed, deep and full. I could feel my body flush as an erection grew in my pants. Ethan reached up and finished removing Joaquín's shirt. I knew if he turned his head I would be discovered so I quickly formulated a plan.
Yanking the side door open, I exclaimed "What's going on in here?"
