Date: Sat, 18 Apr 2015 13:31:19 +0100
From: J. Forrester <niftyencomiums@gmail.com>
Subject: The Symposium - Chapter Three

The Symposium
Chapter 03: Mirror Image

This story is a work of fiction. Resemblances to real persons, places or
events would be extremely surprising.


Callum noticed Iain was quieter than usual as they sat down to
breakfast. He wasn't subdued per se, just... quiet. He asked if everything
was ok, he said he was. Callum's own disposition tended towards quiet
introspection, he preferred to engage in conversation rather than initiate
it. Perhaps that was what he'd noticed, Iain's lack of initiative – the
deficit of confab.

Iain felt guilty this morning. Last night Callum had come home and seemed
as excited as a puppy. He wouldn't say why but Iain wondered if Callum had
met someone. Callum denied this... more or less. He was sure whatever it
was would come up eventually. Later, they had talked about working this
weekend. Neither were looking forward to it – they were fed up and
frustrated and underemployed - it was this talk that was causing Iain
guilt.

He was on the precipice of something bigger and better and, in all
likelihood, much more satisfying. He felt guilty, like he was stealing
success from under Callum's nose. Maybe he should have told his cousin
about the Symposium when he had seen the vacancy advertised? Too late
now. But Callum had noticed his subdued mood and Iain thought how to
resolve it.

Iain bounced up from the table. "Let's go for a run?"

It had been a few months since they last ran, cycled, lifted weights or any
such excretion together. Studying and celebrating studying, then exams and
celebrating the end of exams, the holidays and celebrating coming back from
holidays had curbed their togetherness time.

"Celebrating, a euphemistic phrase meaning pass the stella, vodka, budwiser
(boak!) bricardi, disaranno, jack daniels..." Callum said one night back in
May.

Iain and Callum occasionally exercised together, but more often trained
alone or with their own friends. Callum liked training with Iain though –
he was entertaining and set a challenging pace, which paradoxically because
otherwise Callum would have set a challenging pace. Both boys were
competitive – neither would set out to `win', neither liked to
`loose'. They each kept up with the other.

"Yea, ok." Callum agreed. "Ten miles?" he asked, knowing Iain's routes and
distances well.

"If you think you can manage." Iain replied, with a wink.

The boys headed upstairs, Iain opting for a bathroom visit first. Callum
closed his door and looked out a vest and shorts. His hand caught the
shorts he'd worn yesterday and his penis felt a tingle that his brain
resisted. Over boxer-brief underpants, Callum pulled on cotton shorts that
were comfy and the vest that was tight enough to show his figure without
looking like he was advertising his nipples.

When Callum headed back into the hall he wandered absentmindedly towards
Iain's room; the door was open – a sign of Iain's usual respect for
privacy and boundaries, i.e. they did not exist. If you've got it flaunt
it, even at home – unless mum's visiting in which case put the toilet
set up when you tinkle and close the door when you wank.

Callum could see Iain undressing; he was naked below the waist, his curved
bottom had the tone of an athlete and his legs were enviously muscled. It
was looking into a mirror. Iain pulled his t-shirt off to reveal a broad,
smooth back with a mole near the right shoulder. His skin was otherwise
clean and smooth, coloured towards a muted bronze rather than pasty British
white. Iain pulled on his running shorts without underwear and then a short
sleeve t-shirt.

Callum had taken a step away from the door before Iain turned, but Iain
could have sworn he'd heard someone just outside his room. Had Callum been
watching him? He moved to the door but by the time he was there, Callum was
sitting on the top step of the upper landing.

"Ready, slow-poke?" Callum asked.

"On your marks..." Iain replied.

The boys did not race. They didn't even push themselves particularly
hard. They kept up a comfortable conversation for 35 minutes, reaching a
waypoint along the canal that was a good place to turn back.

"So... you were a bit cagey about what had you high as a kite yesterday?"
Iain asked by way of ending a conversation about party political leaders.

"Yea. Suppose I was." Callum said. "Can't really talk about it."

"Have you got a new man in your life or not?" Iain asked, "I need to know
if I ought to buy a new hat or not."

"Don't be facetious."

"Don't even know what that means."

"It means not meant to be taken seriously, amusing, frivolous."

"You invested in that vocabulary app then?" Iain said.

A pause. "Don't be facetious." They both said and then laughed.

"I don't have a boyfriend." Callum said. "But I don't wanna talk about it
yet."

"No problemo." Iain said and meant it.

Back home, the boys negotiated for first dibs on the shower.

"Ro - sham - bo." said Callum. Paper!

Iain drew rock and sulked a little.

"Typical boy." Callum said. "Generally people think rock is the strongest
play to make. Therefore paper is the strongest play to make."

"Whatever, princess." Responded Iain. "But it's squeaky bum time, I've got
a thing this afternoon."

"A thing? Is it a big thing?" asked Callum.

"Pervert."

"Other pervert."

"Seriously, as much as I enjoy flirting I want a shower. And I'm not
suggesting we share." Iain said.

"Heaven forefend." responded Callum, "I'll jump in the shower. Not be
long."

Callum bounced up the stairs and pulled off his top - his trainers were
already off and drying in the garden. He pulled a towel from the linen
cupboard and put it around his waist, then dropped his shorts and pants and
put them all in the linen basket.

Callum considered that he had always been a bit prudish – about his own
body at least. He had nothing to hide or be ashamed of but yesterday had
set him free. His desire for that Symposium job had loosened his
inhibitions. He still held the towel tight as he walked back down the hall
to the bathroom.

Callum's mind was swimming with thought about his follow up interview in a
few hours. He hung the towel on a peg on the bathroom door and turned the
shower on. He turned the temperature down a bit so the water was cool and
refreshing. He thought about what Iain had said -did he really call their
banter flirting? Was it flirting? Was he reading too much into this? Yes!
Probably!

Callum soaped his balls.

Iain watched Callum cross the hall in a towel – which was not like him -
change for the better, Iain thought. He waited until Callum closed the
bathroom door. Instead he heard the shower start to run and the change in
tone as Callum stepped under the water. Iain retrieved a towel for himself,
he knew Callum would not be long – he'd been mostly teasing when he
cited his time imperative but Callum would respect Iain's need.

Without cause to do so, he peeked into the laundry basket – Callum's
t-shirt, underwear and shorts were there. So, Iain pondered, Callum was in
the shower with no change of clothes and a reduced attendance to
modesty... interesting.

Iain closed and locked the laundry cupboard – probably hadn't been
locked in... ever. Iain popped the key in his room then moved to
Callum's. The blinds were dropped but not closed - he slid them up so the
window was not obscured at all.

He moved to the bathroom, nudged the door open silently and pulled Callum's
towel (as well as the hand towels) from the peg. Exit stage left.

Callum turned off the water. He'd turned the water positively cold to curb
the enthusiasm of his desperate cock after four days without
cumming. Callum stood to drip dry for a moment, his penis returned to its
usual handful size.

He exited the shower cubicle and noticed something amiss. His towel was
gone. He smiled and shook his head, he could almost hear the childish
giggle from the other side of the door.

"I'm not getting my towel back, am I?" he asked.

"Don't even know what you're talking about." Said the voice trembling with
barely controlled amusement.

Callum pulled the door open wide with one hand, the other cupping his cock
and balls. Iain hadn't seen Callum naked for a long time. Not since they
were ten or twelve and fooled around with some other boys who lived on the
street. Callum was... Iain suppressed the rest of that thought. It was
weird.

Callum moved out of the bathroom with both hands covering his penis – at
least until he reached his bedroom door at the front of the house, which
Iain had contentiously closed. Callum lifted one hand and Iain caught a
sight of his cousin's balls and the root of his penis. Callum moved into
his room and just groaned at the window. Through which he was visible to
the street out front.

Callum turned back to Iain. "I'd lock the bathroom door if I were you." He
said, then winked and nudged the door closed with his toe.

Iain managed to shower without incident. After he towelled his short blonde
hair dry, Iain got dressed: tight boxer briefs (to show off his package)
with equally snug & short running shorts and a tight t-shirt that showed
off his build – both in dark blue. His trainers too were blue and worn
without socks. Iain enjoyed the unlikely good weather (unlikely because
they lived in Scotland). He thought of a joke his friend Mike had told him:
living in Scotland is like watersports sex, you expect to get pissed on.

His next interview was in an hour. He popped upstairs to grab a few things
to put in his back then decided to ignore the pretence that he was
attending a normal interview. He went back to the hall and chapped on
Callum's door.

Callum opened it wearing a pair of jogging bottoms and a loose t-shirt with
a neckline that scooped low enough for the few wiry hairs on his chest to
be exposed.

"I'm kinda popping out." He said.

"Ah yes. You've got your `thing' to do." Callum replied good naturedly.

"My big thing." Iain batted back.

"Nice inter-conversation continuity reference there." Callum said with a
smile.

"I'm `kinda popping out' too." Callum said, with quotation mark fingers
when he cited Iain's words.

"Cool, tell me about it later. I gotta run."

At half past one, Callum parked and entered the gym. He wanted to be early
– make a good impression. Finn spotted him before he even made it to the
reception desk.

"Hey, you're a little early." Finn said. Callum realised he had not noticed
the soft Paisley accent before, he like Finn even more. "I'll look after
him, Ray." He added to the man behind the desk.

Actually, there was two men at reception today. The desk that Raymond sat
behind faced the main entrance, you could walk around either side of it
when you came in. Walking right led to the coffee bar, walking left led
more directly to the locker room – the concourse behind the desk was
almost as big as the foyer in front of it. And the desk itself was an oval,
with the long sides facing the entrance or locker room, and gaps at the
points of the oval to enter the space between them.

"Come along, Callum," had Finn paused before saying his name? "I'll show
you the locker room."

They crossed the space behind the desk; looking left Callum saw into the
corridor that had held yesterday's fate, looking right he saw the coffee
bar and beyond the glass wall the pool.

"Why don't you pop your stuff in one of the locker's?" Finn said,
indicating Callum's satchel with the unnecessary reference and portfolio.

The bank of lockers stretched along the centre of the room. Lockers sat
back to back and each row faced a bench. Banks of locker also rested along
the walls of the locker room. Many lockers were open and key's were in the
lock, once you choose a locker you could lock up and attach the key to your
wrist since each was mounted on what resembled a watch strap.

Callum put his satchel in the locker and made to close it.

"Why don't you give the locker room a try." Finn said reasonably. "You'll
have to be comfortable in here. Dressing and undressing, yea?"

Callum caught the implication. He decided not to hesitate, not to show
reluctance or weakness. He pulled off the loose t-shirt and slipped off his
shoes – placing the trainers first and the top on top. Then Callum
dropped his jogging bottoms and folded them on top. Now he made to close
the locker again.

"Oh, are you really in the spirit of things?" Finn asked, nodding to
Callum's boxer briefs.

Callum swallowed hard. He resigned himself with excited reluctance; pushing
the underpants down to the floor and stepping out of them. Naked, Callum
placed them in the locker and closed it. Finn locked it for him and held
onto the key.

"Let me show you around." Finn said.

He walked down the bank of lockers. Maroon indicated executive members. Red
indicated an gold membership, yellow indicated silver membership and green
indicated basic access membership. Each level gave more access to
facilities, functions and attention.

"What does blue mean?" asked Callum.

"Blue?" Finn said, a lapse in conversation as his eyes lifted from crotch
(where Callum's dick was not quite soft) to eye level. "Blue is the
school. Lord Gower Grammar sends final year kids here. Let's them out of
the cage for a while." He smiled sardonically.

Finn led him to the back wall, the one parallel to the one with the
entrance to the locker room. Two doors sat on the right angle of the
corner. Finn told him one accessed the corridor that looped around the
facilities and training rooms and back to the concourse; he opened it, in
the distance a startled towel boy (athletic assistant) busied himself after
taking in an eyeful.

The other gave access to the sauna. Finn opened this one and led the way
inside, Callum was grateful to see it was empty. Directed to sit Finn heard
a beep and retried his phone.

"I gotta take care of something, relax here for a bit, I'll be back." Finn
spoke quick and left quicker.

Callum had no clothes, no locker key and no towel. Naked and sweating, he
sat back... and relaxed.

Iain had been instructed to sit in reception, but didn't for long. Finn
arrived less than five minute later and shook his hand.

"Welcome back." Finn said. "Let's take a look around; I don't think you got
the chance to see everything last time you were here."

The two men walked towards the training room corridor and passed a
badminton session, then took a walk around the weights room and finally
entered the machine room, where two men are at work.

"Andy, how's it going?" asked Finn.

"Good. We're just starting our session." The younger man replied.

"What's happened to your shirt?" he asked, pointing to multiple stains that
were visible even on the dark blue material that all the personal trainers
seemed to wear.

"Sorry, Findlay," Andy responded. "I was fixing one of the rowing machines
before we got started, I guess..."

"This is Iain." Interrupted Finn, "He's hoping to join our team today."
Finn turned to Iain, "Andy's worked here almost as long as I have. We can't
have senior staff working in grease stained shirts. Would you mind lending
him yours? Your t-shirt is almost the same shade as what we wear."

Iain listened to the reasonable tone of Finn's voice but saw behind it. It
was a power play, but Iain would happily play along.

"No problem." Iain said and, without hesitation, pulled the t-shirt off -
tussling his copper blonde hair.

Andy took the proffered shirt and peeled his own off too. The client, who
had not been introduced but looked on satisfied enough, leaned back on the
exercise bike on which he sat and drank in the view.

Andy was toned and fit, but slighter in build – the t-shirt that had
been tight on Iain was less sheer on him but remained satisfactorily
revealing. Iain did not ask for Andy's top in return.

"We'll move on then, eh?" said Finn, nodding politely to Andy and his
client. Once out of the room he said, "We'd better head up stairs, it's the
back of two o'clock already. Mr Douglas knows I was meeting you but he'll
start to wonder where we are."

Instead of heading back to the main foyer, they continued up the corridor
to the corner where it turned at a right angle, revealing more rooms
(offices, private changing rooms and the like). At the corner was a door
leading to stairs that the two men took up.

Iain was led to the first floor conference room he'd visited yesterday. Mr
Douglas was already present. He smiled, unperturbed at having had to
wait. He smiled that Iain was already topless.

"Iain. Nice to see you again." They shook hands. "Findlay?"

Finn nodded knowingly "I showed our other candidate to the sauna room
fifteen minutes ago."

"Ah, he'll be nice and supple by now. If you wouldn't mind..." Mr Douglas
directed to Finn then turned back to Iain. "We would like you complete your
interview with another candidate. Our present employment pool has space for
you both but I feel it's important..."

Finn left the room.

Callum sat next to two men in their mid thirties. Both chatted amiably
after recovering from the sight of a heat-sweated naked Adonis in the sauna
room – with no towel. Callum too had started to relax, so when Finn
entered he was laughing at a joke about anal beads that one of the clients
had just told.

Finn smiled at Callum who may have blushed when he saw Finn, as if he had
been caught slacking off on the job (which he did not have yet). May have
blushed, it was hard to tell because he was flushed from the heat of the
steam.

"Shall we finish your interview upstairs now, Callum?" Finn asked.

"Certainly."

"We hope to see you around, Callum." One of the men said.

Callum stood and turned to face the two men who were sat close but not
quite touching. He moved to stand between them, his legs now touching
theirs and his penis just inches away from them. He extended a hand to each
and shook their hands.

"A pleasure to meet you gentlemen." Callum said, then turned and paused
(prolonged arse view) before walking past Finn and back into the locker
room.

"Nice touch." Finn complemented the routine.

"Touching costs extra." Callum said and both men laughed.

"You're getting brave, Callum." Finn concluded.

Callum agreed - he was getting brave. His inhibitions, that rationally he
ought to never have had, were dropping. He was fit and attractive enough to
have no reticence about being objectified.

The locker room was pleasantly cool and the ruddy complexion of Callum's
skin faded as they moved to collect his cloths. Finn unlocked the locker
and Callum pulled out his clothes. He pulled on the underwear and then his
top but swapped the long tracksuit bottoms for shorts.

As they exited the locker room, Finn directed Callum to the glass lift and
began to explain the upcoming meeting just as Mr Douglas had explained to
Iain. "This afternoon you're going to complete your interview with another
candidate. Mr Douglas had budgeted for two new staff to boost our present
employment pool. He feels it's important you are able to work as part of a
team and also that you're able to meet individual client needs."

"Role playing?" Callum asked.

"Yea." Finn agreed as they exited the lift.

Finn entered first, followed by Callum – when Callum and Iain saw each
other, the penny dropped. Both looked at the other – into the other –
and accepted they would go as far as they needed to in order to get their
jobs here. They might just enjoy it too.

"I apologise for the clandestine tactics." Mr Douglas said.

Iain wondered why Callum's skin was ruddy and moist – ah, the sauna
room?

"We have interviewed multiple candidate's everyday this week, but you boys
are special. We knew as soon as we finished yesterday you were top of the
pile; that we would have to invite you back."

Callum wondered why Iain already had his t-shirt off. Where WAS his t-shirt
- it wasn't in the room?

"I had originally intended to employ just one personal trainer but you both
impressed me greatly. And Callum, your additional qualification as a
physiotherapist would be valuable to me; to the Symposium." Mr Douglas
spoke smoothly and eloquently.

Finn joined the conversation. "But you have to be able to work in the
team. To fulfil client needs, and we all know the clientele we have
here. You would never be expected to do something you weren't comfortable
with but that is rather the point."

"You men have showed you are comfortable with so much more." Mr Douglas
finished. He looked between Callum and Iain as he spoke. "So much more."

"Would you like to undress each other?" Finn said.

An odd way to phrase the request. Why not just say: would you like to strip
your almost identical familial relation while we watch and perv over you
and probably record it just like the last two interviews were?

"Why?" Callum asked, nervousness had returned to him. Iain was glad he
asked though.

"You will have to work with some clients with disabilities." Finn
said. "They might have difficulty dressing or undressing or completing
certain routines. You two ought to be comfortable helping to maximise other
people's capacity and lending a helping hand when they need it to surpass
that capacity."

Silver tongued son of bitch.

Iain kicked off his trainers and stood barefoot and bear chested before his
cousin. Callum followed suit, toeing off his trainers to expedite things in
the inevitable direction.

Iain lifted Callum's t-shirt and dropped it on the floor, then stepped
close and put his hands on Callum's hips. To their side, Finn now held a
camera and poised to move around them - to examine the spectacle the way a
stationary (for surely there was on somewhere) could not.

"Tell me no." Callum whispered so only Iain could hear. He was telling Iain
it was ok if he did not want to fuck around with another man, cousin or
not.

Iain just smiled then pushed Callum's shorts down to his knees where they
were loose enough to fall ho his ankles. Iain kissed Callum on the lips,
gently at first then Callum slipped his tongue in.

They were locked in a close embrace, Callum's boxer briefs expanded but he
could feel the swell in Iain's underwear too. Callum pushed the shorts down
and Iain gyrated his hips so they could fall. The boys stood close,
pressing their boxer clad groins against each other – frottage
encouraging their arousal.

When their lips parted, Callum could see Mr Douglas and Finn were watching
with great interest. They were indeed very alike: height, hair colour, skin
complexion, moles on their backs, hair of similar spread and sparse
density. Like looking into a mirror.

Callum squatted before his mirror image and gripped Iain's briefs. He had
never even imagined this; his heart beat so fast and his cock was so hard,
Callum was convinced he'd cum before even being touched. He did not yank
the briefs down; instead he teased Iain; the room and himself by easing
them down slowly. Arse crack revealed, slim flawless hips uncovered, pubes
exposed – 8 inch cock released.

As it sprung free, the mighty, heavy organ nearly knocked Callum out! It
missed his face by a hairs with and jutted up and down before Callum's face
– his lips and his mouth.

"Let me help you take these off." Callum said in a voice that was not quite
his own. Nervous but mocking the pretence Mr Douglas and Finn had
established.

He shifted from a squat to a kneeling position. Iain lifted a foot and
Callum freed the shorts and underwear, then the other foot – Iain was
now completely naked.

Callum reached up with a hand that shook with excitement and gripped the
shaft of his cousin's penis. Ian held his breath as Callum eased the
foreskin back and forth and then massaged the head of his cock with a tight
fist.

"Fuck!" Iain said.

Callum took Iain's cock in his mouth.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Iain gasped breathlessly

Callum slid his hands onto Iain's hips and then gripped his buttocks. His
right hand slid to the small of Iain's back and made a few minute circles
as his fingers slid down, now slick with sweat. Callum probed Iain's anal
sphincter with a finger.

"Jesus... Fucking..." Iain had thrown his head back. He had never felt
anything like it. It made the experience he'd had with women pale in
comparison.

Callum pushed a finger into Iain's anus while he continued to suck his
cock. The dick was big, stretching his lips, and hot, warming his
mouth. Callum's own dick was uncomfortably tight inside the boxer briefs he
still wore – glancing down he saw a large wet spot on them. The
underwear were virtually saturated with seminal fluid.

Callum slid his face away from Iain's stiff member and felt the weight of
it on his tongue, which he swirled around the cock head before releasing
it. The slick penis bobbed unclimaxed before Callum's face.

"Can we compare you boys properly?" Mr Douglas said to them, then to Iain;
"Why don't you help Callum out of those?" He indicated Callum's underwear.

Iain was stunned and dazed. He and Callum had fooled around once with each
other and a couple of other boys when they were preteens but that had not
felt like this. Even Iain's experience with Finn had not felt like what
Callum had done. Finn had given him a hand job and blow job – he'd had
them before but Callum... what had he done? Where had he learned to
do... those things? Make him feel those things?

Out of his fog, Iain turned to Callum and knelt down before him...

His hands were on Callum's underwear, he could see a solid throbbing organ
inside...

Iain tugged the underwear down and came face to face with a shining cock
head...

Mr Douglas felt an excitement he had not felt for a long time. Memory of
that excitement made him look fondly at Finn. Finn remembered too, looking
past the camera he still held and catching Mr Douglas's eye. They both
turned back to gaze at the magnificent boys.

With his hands at his side, Callum slowly guided his right hand towards
Iain's face. He slid his hand under Iain's chin, feeling just a little
stubble on his cousin's solid jaw. He lifted Iain's face to meet his eyes
and Callum knew Iain was not ready.

"Stand up." Callum breathed and sensed Iain's relief.

Iain stood and faced Callum; they were so similar in almost every physical
respect – except the eyes. Mirror image.

Callum pulled Iain close by yanking his penis and then wanking Iain and
himself with one grip. Their penises together were warm and hard and very
aroused. They turned to face Mr Douglas and Finn who, for a moment, didn't
seem to know what to do with them. Finn filled the void, walking around
them in a circle and then standing before them, expanding the view finder
to take in a wide shot of them side-by-side with jutting cocks.

"Callum, how long has it been since you last came?" Mr Douglas asked.

"Going on five days." He replied.

Iain regarded that he could fill a bath with cum if he'd not released for
that long.

"Do you want to now?" he asked? Callum nodded. "Could you give him a hand,
Iain?"

Iain nodded, ready to take back the initiative having shrank away from
falacio. He'd never felt another man's dick either, so as he gripped
Callum's cock he felt something... unique. It felt hotter than his own –
length and girth virtually the same, but the sensation of his hand passing
over the head of Callum's penis was different. He enjoyed the sensation.

Iain could feel a pulse in the organ, even as his hand moved steadily and
picked up speed. With his left hand he started to wank himself. It was
difficult with his non-dominant hand but he was not so fucking horney that
it would take little effort to cum

Callum too was already close and it was going to be messy. Callum stepped
closer to Iain, their stomachs pressing together and his hand covered
Iain's and took over his cousin's self-stimulation. Ach continued grip the
other's cock and smear precum over their hands. Thier chest's were close so
their penises rubbed together and meshed onto their stomachs, making their
treasure trails sticky with precum.

Their eyes locked at the same instant. "Fuck!"

Both came, the ejaculation's shooting over their heads as their cocks
pointed up. The cum would have soaked their heads if it hadn't been so
forceful that the shots hit the ceiling. Drops hit their hair. The
following ropes of cum were aimed at each other's stomachs chests. They
were filthy with cum by the time climax subsided.

Callum's balls ached! The depoit of cum had been impressive and as he
looked at himself and then into his mirror he smiled. It was quite some
mess. Globs hit the floor. It was cum on their feet that finally made
Callum laugh.

It was a loud, infectious laugh. The sheer delight of the day and the
absurdity of their present state made him laugh. Soon Iain too was laughing
and then Mr Douglas and Finn also. The boys need to get some of the cum off
so Finn handed Callum and Iain some material to clean up with: a pair of
underpants, a t-shirt and joggers.

The boys mopped cum up as best as they could, the smears were unmistakable
but there was less overt globs on their chests, pubes, legs, feet. Callum
had used the pants, Iain the t-shirt – they'd shared the jobbers but the
clothes were, of course, unbearable now. And now the boys had time to think
about it, they had a new problem. The only clean items of clothing left
were a pair of tight boxer briefs and a pair of short running shorts.

"Get dressed boys, you're hired." Mr Douglas said.

The boys made no complaint as Callum pulled on the shorts and Iain pulled
up the boxer briefs, which clung to his cum streaked cock. They looked
great.

"I think perhaps this session has ended." Mr Douglas said. "See you boys
for your first day on Monday." He paused thoughtfully. "Oh, I would love to
allow you to use the showers before you leave the building, but they're
strictly for staff and members. You understand."

The boys understood alright. Mr Douglas wanted them to walk out the
building covered in cum and looking almost obscene. Even Iain would have
been reluctant to get on the bus home this time; Callum offered him a
lift. Together they got into the glass lift and descended to the
foyer. Crossing to the exit they passed a half dozen men who gave them a
second glance. Then a third, fourth and fifth glance. They were going to
enjoy their work here...



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