Date: Sun, 18 Jan 2009 17:07:00 +0000
From: Bill Drake <billdrake@hotmail.com>
Subject: White Collar Tales 10: Boss's Cabin

White Collar Tales
Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)

WARNING: The following is for adults only. It contains depiction of sexual
acts between men. If this offends you or is inappropriate for you to read,
go no further.

Comments to billdrake@hotmail.com. For more of my stories, check out the
Authors page of Nifty, or join my Yahoo group:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/drakestories/


White Collar Tales #10
Boss's Cabin


"Thanks for giving me a ride, Jim," I said, leaning my 6'2" bulky jock
frame back in the comfortable leather seat of my boss's luxury car. It felt
pretty great after the day I'd had. Fridays are a bitch for a newby analyst
like me, as all the traders and brokers come to me in order to get their
numbers end for their weekly quota, and it didn't help that I had the
hangover to beat all for most of the day.

The night before was sure a blast, though. Had met up with Pete Jensen, a
rugby-playing college bud of mine working at Brown, Harriman, and we packed
our beefy jock businessman bods into the confines of the latest financial
district meat market. We were both dealing with the stress of a new career
on the Street and I guess before we knew it had drunk a good deal.

"I'm TDFP, big guy," Pete grumbled. It was our code for "too drunk for
pussy." Not too drunk to fuck, mind you, just when you're a little too
buzzed to be able to talk up any chick, then take her back to your place on
the Upper East Side. When the odds are just against you. I clinked my beer
against his pint glass then spread my thighs. My hardon poked up high and
proud in my suit trousers, and I brushed my tie to the side so that Pete
could see it.

"Jesus, stud, I forget how big you are, Mike" he grinned before climbing
down off the bar stool.

I was no more than three paces behind him as he made his way to the men's
room. Pete has one of the best backsides I know - full, meaty rump and
strong, sinewed lats that bulged underneath his white dress shirt. He
walked down to the handicapped stall at the farthest end of the
bathroom. Doing a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, I entered
after him.

What followed was pure, primal ball-draining sex: first me knelt on the
cold tile floor so I could pull down those tailored suit trousers and feast
on that powerful butt, then a quick four minute fuck as I stood up and
powerdrove my cock deep into my buddy while he leaned forward against the
cinderblock wall.

I left him good and wet when I stepped back and wiped off my dick before
stuffing it back into my trousers. He smiled as he leaned up and surveyed
the shower of cum he'd shot into the toilet. Just then we heard a knock at
the stall.

"Let me in guys," a deep whisper came from the other side. "I'm fucking
horny as a goat listening to you two."

I opened the stall door. A well-dressed corporate lawyer in his early 30s,
with a wedding band and rakish grin, pushed his way in. Already a
seven-incher was poking out of his open crotch. He slapped the cock in his
hand a couple of times as he walked behind Pete. My bud's pants and
underwear were still pulled down mid-thigh and our new visitor wasted no
time in plugging his hole and starting a heavy, hard fuck.

"Feels great, guy. Hope you don't mind it rough. Gotta let off some
steam. Boss has been riding me all week."

I knew Pete was gonna get juiced up good, so I stayed to watch.

"Comfortable?" It was Fordham breaking me out of my reverie. We were
already in Poughkeepsie. He nodded down at my crotch, which was full with
my erect jock tool.

"Shit, sir, I'm sorry."

"No need for the sir out of the office, Mike," he said as if he were
mulling something over. Even in the light of dusk, I couldn't help but
admire his attractive features. "Unless you want, to. I like a man who
shows respect, Kelley. Know what I mean?"

If I didn't, he was gonna show me. Eagerly, his hand left the gear shift
and fumbled at his crotch. He pulled down the suit zipper and I watched as
a thick, powerful prick emerged. Big, round, commanding. Nice and with a
slight tapered shape bulging wide in the middle, the shaft was smooth from
the dark hairs at the base to the corona of his glans, the circumcision
mark barely visible. Probably only a hair longer than my own seven incher
now pulsing in my crotch, but fuller... fatter. And wet. He must have been
horny, too. Not only was my boss rigid, his heavy nuts were drawn up
tightly to the stalk.

"We got thirty minutes before we get to the cabin, Kelley. Think you can
coax a couple loads from these boys before we get there?" he asked, cupping
his testicles in his paw.

I loosened my tie and bent down to get to work.

I don't know if it was the idea of sucking off my boss. Or maybe it was
just the perfect shape and formidable size of his cock standing straight up
from his crotch. Or maybe it was the silent, masculine way he just spread
his thighs and just expected me to suck him. But I was on fire inside as I
licked his prick, then opened up to take him inside. I fellated him. I
worshipped him. I gasped down two gloppy loads of his slop. And I didn't
lift my head til we pulled into the driveway of his lake cabin.

"Wipe up," he ordered, handing me a handkerchief before zipping back up.

The other men from the office were already there. Ed Barrett, blonde,
burly, friendly bond trader; Mike Levinson, tall, dark and handsome private
equity broker; Dave, the forty-five-and-fit junior partner with twinkling
green eyes; and Jeff Williams, a hotshot stock picker.

Dave handed me and the boss a beer as soon as we walked in. "Hey Kelley,"
Mike beamed, clearly well on his way to working a good buzz, "Glad you
could make it. Hope the boss didn't work you over too hard on the way up."
The men chuckled while I blushed deep crimson. Mr. Fordham slapped my back
paternally and admonished his employees.

"Come, now, fellas, you're making the boy embarrassed. That's not very
sporting is it, guys?"

The men all laughed and the conversation returned to normal, a litany of
sports, shop talk and cursing. The beer was going to my head on an empty
stomach, but I felt good, my day's hangover finally gone.

I felt tired, too. I really needed a quick nap before I could be myself
again.

"The beds aren't made yet, Mike," Ed said. "Except for the first room
there. Callahan's already staked out in that one. Just push him to the side
if he's hogging up the bed." I felt my nuts tingle. Barrett's pearly white
smile and gravelly-smooth, deep voice made any thing he said sound sexy. He
could read the phone book and I'd get stiff.

"Sure, Ed." I muttered and trudged to join Brian.

Brian Callahan, a bond trader with the company for a few years now, was the
rising star of the company. Competent, knew his shit, and wasn't afraid to
elbow competitors out of the way. He was constantly taking me under his
wing, giving me advice, trying to coax me from my analyst job to take up
trading. "You got the shit, Kelley," he'd say.

Right now, Brian's medium-tall, thirty-year-old frame was passed out and
sprawled on the double bed. He was still in his navy pinstripe suit, only
his tie was loosened and one of his shirt tails untucked. He moaned as I
collapsed on the mattress next to him. I smiled as his hand raked my chest,
but I barely registered our proximity before sleep overcame me.

When I awoke his hand was still lying heavy on my chest. I looked at the
thick stainless steel watch and saw I'd only been out for forty minutes,
but it felt like an eternity. Brian was turned toward me and I could feel
his breath tickle my exposed neck with every rush of air. The beer had
loosened me up, blowing Fordham had made me ready for another round of man
sex. I looked down my stretched out body and could see my cock growing
erect in my trousers, its firmness stretching the wool fabric like a snake
slithering under a blanket.

Suddenly a hand curled around my excited mound. Callahan's grip felt
fantastic squeezing it, kneading me to full-on hardness.

"Wanna fool around, Kelley? The guys out there are probably still yabbering
away," he chuckled.

He didn't wait for an answer, but instead unzipped his pinstripe trousers
and reached in, fishing around. How difficult is it to pull your dick, I
thought to myself, only to gasp as a major trouser snake popped in
view. I'd heard jokes from the guys about Long John Callahan, but I thought
they were joking. They weren't. What Fordham had in girth, Brian showed in
length. Eleven honest inches of stiff, nasty trader cock stretched upward
toward my gaze.

I must have been gawking because when my eyes swept back up to meet Brian's
he smirked and whispered deep, "Like what you see, Kelley?"

"Hell yeah," I grunted. I couldn't help it. I had to have it. Boldly, I
took the exposed prick in my hand and kneaded it to full erection.

Callahan fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a familiar packet of
lubricant. Seems lately I had been carrying a few around with me for
emergencies, and I guess Brian was no exception.

"That's it, jerk me man," he cooed as he squeezed the cool gel over my
hand. Quickly, his dick was slicked up.

"I gotta bust that butt of yours, bud. Gonna let me?"

I unbuckled my belt and was rewarded with an appreciative groan as Brian
watched me lower my pants. Kicked off my shoes and my pants and strattled
his midsection. I didn't waste time, I just started sitting my ass down on
Callahan's hard spike.

"That's my buddy. Ah... hot, sweet ass I'm tapping. That's it, sit on it
Kelley. "

I moaned in pleasure as his knob passed straight over my internal
mangland. My torso shuttered beneath my dress shirt.

"We gonna be butt buddies from now on, Kelley? Sure as shit hope so."

When the slow descent was done, I sat back victorious, feeling like I had a
railroad spike staked up my rectum, but damn, it felt good, two
businessjocks connecting after a long brutal week at the office.

Callahan was feeling hella good, too, cause he had a big-ass smile on that
sexy Irish face of his. "Hold still, buddy," he instructed as his long
fingers curled around the meat of my thighs and his hips pulled back then
powered forward.

He knocked the wind out of me, but whatever treatment he dished out just
made my own joint harder and wetter with fuck juice. Already Callahan's
designer tie was spotted with huge gobs of my clear natural lubricant.

I seized up from fucklust and grabbed his arms and shoulders through his
fitted suit and held on for a fast and furious ride.

Swack! Swack! Slick slapping sounds of our fucking grew louder and more
rapid.

"You got the shit, all right. Was worth the wait, Mike."

My cock stuck up proud and ready to blow. Still, I maintained control and
kept my hands off while Brian reamed me. Involuntarily I responded to each
cock thrust by flexing my quads to lift myself up, only to feel Brian's
harsh grip pull me back down.

"Gonna let me juice you up, Kelley?" he breathed.

"Yah," I croaked. "Go for it, man."

"Shit, yes," he cried as he let loose. Deep within my guts, I felt his load
pump... hard, powerful waves of semen spraying against my asswalls.

My own dick throbbed and bobbed, the pissslit dilating in anger. Callahan
must have known I was about to blow, cause he took his necktie and slipped
it over my shaft like an old sock. The touch of the silk and the firmness
of his grip was enough to send my seed firing away.

"Ooh, yeah," Brian cooed as my ejaculate soaked his tie from the inside
out.

After I got up from his crotch, we pulled ourselves together. Brian slipped
off his sperm-wet tie and tossed it in the corner, laughing at the load I'd
shot. I took one last look at his extended schlong before he tucked it back
into this suitpants. My ass was on fire from that missile, but I felt
content and sated as I pulled on my trousers and got dressed.

...

An hour later, we were eating burgers as soon as Ed flipped them off the
grill. Full and buzzed on lager, some of the guys began firing up the extra
large whirlpool. I was sipping my beer and listening to one of Fordham's
raunchy stories when Dave leaned over and muttered in my ear.

"So, Kelley... how was it?"

I looked at the junior partner's beaming green eyes and shrugged. "Whaddya
mean?"

"The Callahan cock. I know you rode that trader meatstick, it's all over
your face."

"Yeah?"

He looked away, licked his lips, then leaned back in. "I know my employees,
Mike. Can read you fuckers like a book. So... how was it?"

I laughed. "Fan-fucking-tasting, Dave." I smiled as I was still feeling
Callahan's seed soaking my briefs through.

"I want a taste."

"You reading my thoughts, Dave?"

Now it was his turn to laugh. His hand latched onto my belt buckle. In the
second time in two hours, my pants were being shucked down. The guys around
the grill were staring at us now.

"Fan-fucking-tasting indeed," Dave echoed as his hand thrust under my
briefs and felt the slick man slime filling my ass crease. I felt his bulk
descend behind me. Two thumbs hooked the waistband and soon I was denuded
to his gaze, his breath, and then his tongue.

As the salt-and-pepper-haired manager ate away at my slop, I noticed that
the men were stripping off their pants and suitcoats and stepping in the
bubbling tub, shirts and ties intact. Lazily, they nursed their beers, told
their jokes, and made out in the heated water. Jeff Williams and Brian
dueled tongues and frigged each other's cocks.

I was enjoying the sight of Levinson sucking on Barrett's fat one when
Fordham leaned back and unbuttoned his shirt. His hard boss cock was up and
at 'em again. "Kelley, get your ass over here!"

Dave unhitched his mouth from my pulsing jock anus and gave a gentle push
on the small of my back. I stepped forward to the hot and heating up scene
in the tub.

"Kick off those wingtips, dimwit. Don't want any tub scratches to explain
to the wife."

"Yes, sir," I replied.

The boys from my office all stared and smirked as I wedged my tired, drunk
jock bod into the tub and sat squarely down into Jim Fordham's lap. I met
my boss in a deep, sloppy kiss and felt him push his dick inward, filling
me full.

Damn, I love my job.