Date: Fri, 3 Aug 2012 21:16:58 -0500
From: Oliver St. Croix <oliverstcroix (at) gmail (dot) com>
Subject: "Coworkers" 'Chapter 1: Tyler'

				 Coworkers
			     Chapter 1: Tyler


"So, why do you want to join our team?" the young man who introduced
himself as Tyler asked. Why did I want to join the team? Clearly for the
competitive salary and extensive benefits. I laughed sarcastically inside.

How did I end up here? Sitting in a mall Starbucks having some guy who
couldn't have been more than two years older than me ask me why I wanted to
sell electronics, as if I was supposed to answer that selling overpriced
computers was my life's passion. I was a recent college grad, unable to
find work in my chosen field ("Communications" whatever the hell that was)
and reduced to applying for retail jobs. I was supposed to have a cool
job. Like a magazine editor or promotions manager. A career where I was
expected to go out and manage a "brand." You know, something easy and
overpaid.

I thought about telling Tyler that I wanted the job because it had been
weeks since I left my house for anything social. I thought about telling
Tyler I needed the job because it had been even more weeks since I could
afford a decent meal. I really wanted to tell Tyler he had flawless lips
that would look even better wrapped around my dick. His mouth was perfect
with fluffy, full lips and shiny white teeth that would look at home in a
toothpaste commercial. Everything about Tyler was perfect, actually. His
scruff was somehow messy but precisely trimmed giving him that careful
carelessness look. He had broad shoulders and thick biceps that narrowed
into slender forearms. His alabaster skin was blemish free and when we
first met I spotted a noticeable bulge. I also spotted a wedding ring, but
that wasn't going to stop my imagination from running wild.

"I think the work this team does is incredible, bringing together people
and relevant technologies to make life easier. I have the skills and the
passion to be a part of that process and I would love to take this team's
work to the next level." Standard interview bullshit. The manager sitting
next to Tyler seemed impressed and Tyler flashed his dazzling smile. We
talked a bit more about the job, the products, and our hobbies and
interests. Eventually, the manager excused himself and left me alone with
Tyler. My eyes roamed his body - the way his smile was a bit crooked, the
way his messy brown hair seemed to go in a million directions, and the
muscles in his forearm that jumped when he waved his hands.

It was hard to focus on what Tyler was saying but I tried to keep it
together because I really needed this job. Eventually, our conversation
wound down and Tyler told me that he'd be in contact later in the week. He
flashed that smile (oh, that smile!) once more and shook my hand. He had a
firm grip and I resisted making a joke about it, not wanting him to think I
was a creep or something. Even though I kind of was. We parted ways and I
turned to watch him walk away. His hipster skinny jeans hugged his legs
tightly and from what I could see, he had somewhat of an ass. The prospect
of getting to stare at Tyler made me actually want the job, at least in a
way that was different than "I want this job because I have to eat."

I couldn't stop thinking about Tyler on my ride home, during lunch, or even
that night when my friend Beth dropped by my apartment to tell me about her
latest breakup. I wondered how long he'd been married, what his wife was
like, what college he went to, if he was cut or uncut, whether he'd ever
had his ass eaten out. You know, the normal things. Beth went on and on
about her selfish ex-boyfriend and how she'd never be happy. I tried to be
sympathetic and listen to her, but Beth was dumped at least twice a week
and I just wasn't in the mood to lie to her tonight about finding a good
man someday. I cut her off in the middle of her third rant about beauty
standards and said, "You know I have another job interview in the morning
and it's already midnight. I should really catch my shut eye." Shut eye? I
always talked in cliches when I lied, but Beth didn't seem to pick up on
it. She wished me luck on my nonexistent interview and promised (ugh) to
call me the next day.

I considered, briefly, going to bed like a normal person but instead I
grabbed my computer and opened Facebook. I searched for Tyler and found his
profile, which was mercifully public. He seemed popular and
well-liked. Lots of photos with friends and wall comments about previous
adventures. I saw pictures of his wife, Kate, who I had to begrudgingly
admit was quite beautiful. I clicked through about a dozen of his profile
pictures before I found one that made me audibly gasp. It was Tyler,
shirtless on the beach. His body was even more wonderful than I had
imagined. He had strong shoulder muscles and firm biceps. His stomach was
taut and he had lean abs, like a swimmer. His torso narrowed down, giving
him a somewhat exaggerated V shape that I found incredibly sexy. As
intrusive as I found the whole situation, seeing Tyler half-naked made my
dick hard and I couldn't ignore it.

I reached down into my sweats and released my aching cock. I studied
Tyler's body, his pink nipples, cut stomach, and of course the bulge in his
board shorts. I imagined riding his cock and looking down at that beautiful
torso and came in no time. Slightly ashamed at having jerked off to someone
I kind-of knew, I closed my computer and went to clean myself off in the
bathroom. Examining myself in the mirror I wondered why I was never able to
keep a boyfriend. I was cute..ish. Six foot one, lean frame. My arms were
cut, my stomach was flat but undeveloped and I had a respectable seven and
a half inch cock. Years of riding my bike around the city gave me a round
ass that I was most proud of. I had olive complexion that was mostly free
of any blemishes or pimples. My dark, shiny hair was cut short and parted
right - a haircut my stylist called "Young Hitler." I just know it looked
good. I considered calling one of my many "buddies" to come over and give
me a two hour confidence boost, but instead I finished cleaning up and went
to sleep, still thinking about Tyler.

The next day I found myself sitting alone in a restaurant waiting for a
plate of fried chicken, which was strange because I didn't even like fried
chicken. My waiter must have passed me a hundred times, completely ignoring
my requests for an update on my chicken. I looked around the restaurant and
noted its swanky decor. The place, while clearly going for an upper-class
vibe, was playing the strangest music, it was like a chiming sound of some
sort-

It was at that point I realized I was dreaming and the music in the
restaurant was my cell phone ringing. I fumbled through my nightstand,
knocking over a cup of pens and several books before finding my phone.

"Hello?" I said, trying my best to sound awake. It was two in the afternoon
after all.

"Hi, this is Tyler, did I wake you?"

"No, not at all, I was just reading." I said with a chuckle, trying to
brush off his spot-on observation.

"Oh, well I'll be quick, just wanted to call and say Congrats! You got the
job!"

Tyler sounded genuinely happy for me and I was filled with an indescribable
joy because I would have money! And at least one cute boy to stare
at. Tyler gave me some details about training and again congratulated me
before hanging up. At that point, I should have focused on preparing for
the job and making sure I brushed up on the latest technologies and
such. Instead I went out and spent my last $20 on a haircut. I came home
and trimmed my beard, plucked my eyebrows, put on some teeth whitening
strips, and exfoliated my elbows and feet. It was my standard beauty
regimen before going on a date. Except, I was doing it for Tyler. Who would
be training me. I could have stopped to consider how ridiculous it was to
doll myself up for a straight married man, but I was just so focused on
Tyler and looking good for Tyler and the very, very remote possibility of
being with Tyler that I didn't stop and think about the situation, really.

I spent about a week in training, mostly with Tyler, learning the ropes and
meeting the team. I was happy to learn that there were plenty of cute men
who worked at the store. Robbie, a blonde salesman who played
basketball. Jonathan, a dark-haired technician with beautiful calves and
strong arms. Jake, a shorter dark-skinned guy with a round bubble butt and
a swish in his step. There were others in the store and others I would meet
later. But in those first few days I was overwhelmed with a sense of
opportunity. Not job opportunities, but opportunities for some great sex.

Tyler and I got to know each other really well during training. We seemed
to like the same shows and movies and books. He was a bit of a digital
artist and I had dabbled in drawing. We hung out during lunch and caught
coffee together in the morning before starting work. By the end of my
training week, we had already exchanged numbers, email, Facebooked each
other, and made plans to grab a drink on Saturday night.

The work was easy enough and the managers and the rest of the team seemed
nice enough. Mostly though, I was excited about Tyler. Especially for our
"date" on Saturday night. I spent the afternoon before going through my
regimen again. Plucking, flossing, cleaning, scrubbing. I wanted to be
perfect for out first interaction outside work. I put on my favorite
cologne and left to meet Tyler around 9. On my way, I worried that he would
bring another coworker or even worse, his wife. I entered the bar and to my
great delight, I found Tyler alone, working on a beer. I ordered four shots
of tequila and offered him two.

"Whoa, there. You trying to kill me?" Tyler said, looking at me hesitantly.

"Come on, let's get this party going." I replied coyly.

Those four shots eventually turned into sixteen and Tyler and I spent the
night getting to know each other even more. He talked about this wife (ugh)
and I told him I was gay, which he had suspected. As most straight men do
when in the presence of a gay man and under the influence of alcohol, Tyler
asked me about gay sex.

"So you've like, sucked a dick. Isn't that weird!?" He asked, his eyes wide
as if he couldn't imagine a man sucking on another man's penis.

I let out a loud laugh and said, "The opposite. It's one of the best
feelings in the world."

Tyler smiled and shook his head. "I couldn't do it man. I couldn't do it."

"That's what you think." I thought to myself.

As the evening progressed we both stumbled our way towards a drunken
stupor. After the bar closed, I invited Tyler to come over and sober up a
bit before going home. I did, after all, live just a block away from the
bar. He agreed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder for stability. That
one block walk somehow took us fifteen minutes but we found our way to my
apartment building and up the two flights of stairs. As I searched my
pockets for my keys, Tyler asked, "Who lives here?" At that point I
realized Tyler drunk enough where I could probably make a move. I hadn't
had quite as much as he had to drink and I suddenly felt optimistic,
scared, and nervous all at once.

I opened the door and gave him the tour of my small but quirky studio
apartment. He sat down on my couch as I started to boil some water for tea.

"Your place is really nice" Tyler said, his words heavily slurred. I
thanked him and told him most men like it. "You invite a lot of men up
here?" he asked with a laugh.

"Well I am quite popular, you know. Being a champion cocksucker and all." I
had taken a seat next to him on the couch. Tyler turned to look at me for a
long moment and I wanted so badly to ask what he was thinking. Instead the
moment was interrupted by the kettle letting me know the water was ready. I
moved to the kitchen area and shut off the stove. As I turned to grab
teabags from the cupboard, Tyler suddenly came up behind me. "What are you
doing?" I asked.  And then he looked at me again. And I did not wait to
act. I leaned in slightly and he did, too. Our lips met and we kissed for a
few glorious seconds. His lips were soft pillows and they were crashing
against my own. On the inside I was screaming and I wanted more of him. I
grabbed his hand and led him back to the couch, where he took a seat.

His breathing was ragged and his hands were shaking. The confidence and
ease I could usually see in his face were gone; instead he looked at me
with a mix of uncertainty and impatience. I crouched between his legs and
ran my hands over his torso. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck" was my only thought. His
abdomen was rock hard and if his dick wasn't harder, I could have spent the
night admiring his flat stomach. I unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped his
fly. His uneven hand landed on my shoulder and I paused. I looked him in
the eye and smiled, doing my best to convey "You want to let me do this"
without having to actually say anything. Talking would ruin the moment. And
I couldn't risk ruining this, not now.

His hand left my shoulder and I let my hands run up his thighs and onto his
bulge, massaging his erect member through the jeans. Tyler threw his head
back, his chest heaved, and I heard a whimper escape his lips, barely
audible. He lifted his hips and I slid off his jeans. His dick was raging
and his cotton boxer-briefs could barely contain it. My mouth watered at
the sight and my own hands started shaking at the opportunity before me. It
had only been nine days, but I wanted Tyler more than I had wanted anyone
in a long time.

I licked his cock through his briefs and saw the outline of his cut
member. I wanted to savor the moment and take my time, but my head was
spinning and I couldn't wait anymore. I grabbed the elastic band of his
briefs and slid them down, tucking the band under Tyler's golf-sized
balls. I took a moment to take in the sight before me. Tyler's dick was
about as big or bigger than mine, at least four inches thick and curved
slightly to the right. I was glad to see he was already leaking
pre-cum. His thick member sat atop two fat, low-hanging balls. I massaged
his pale cock with my right hand and ran my left hand up and down his
torso. Tyler moaned and I took that as a sign I was doing all right.

I lowered my head and lightly licked the back of his dick head. I ran my
tongue over his slit and down the right side and back up the left. I was
desperate to show him I had technique. To show him what he was missing by
choosing a wife who would never suck him off the way I could. I wrapped my
mouth around the side of his cock and worked up, swallowing the head and
then the shaft. I easily deep-throated him, which set him off.

"Oh, fuck!" he yelled. Over and over. "Fucking yes!"

I held his entire dick in my throat for about thirty seconds, humming and
moaning around his shaft to give him extra sensation. I moved back up and
kissed his head once more. I sucked down to his balls and took each one in
my mouth, massaging them with my lips. His hand shot down to the back of my
head and he held me down saying, "Yeah, suck my balls." I worked on them
some more and tried to take both in my mouth, failing because they were so
large. I kissed his shaft and took it back into my throat. I moved up and
down quickly, shooting my tongue around his pole in a circle, again
desperate to show him how much I could pleasure him.

Tyler's moans started to get more high pitched, his grip tightened on the
back of my head, and his hips began gyrating. I knew what was coming but
didn't want it to end. I tried to slow my sucking but he rocked his hips
back and forth, fucking my face. I let him attack me and within minutes his
balls were tightening and he was shouting. "I'm gonna cum. Are you gonna
take it? Fuck I'm gonna-"

And before he could finish, his dick was exploding in my mouth, sending
stream after stream of his warm cream in my mouth. I swallowed every last
bit, reveling in how great he tasted. I licked his cock and balls clean and
tucked him back inside his boxer briefs. He stood up and got dressed and I
stood uneasily next to him. There was so much I wanted to say. So much I
wanted him to say. Instead he just grabbed his jacket and left, slamming
the door behind him.

______________________________________________________
Feedback is always appreciated.
Oliver St. Croix
oliverstcroix (at) gmail (dot) com