Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 14:14:40 GMT
From: D One <doned88@yahoo.com>
Subject: Office Overtime

Marc swears this happened to him, so I dont' have to embellish it (too much)
to entertain or even arouse many of my trusty readers.

It was three years ago in Atlanta where Marc was born and raised. He isn't a
country boy, but he has a nice drawl that sneaks in especially when he's being
romantic..but that's OUR business.

Marc had been out of school with his brand new Business Administration degree
and going from job to job interview....finally landing a job with a VERY large
firm. But alas, his entry position was in the mail room.

The Supervisor kept saying how his "boys" got promoted all the time. In fact
the President used to work in the mail room. So Marc, though dissapointed he
didn't make the Executive Training Program, accepted the position.

Everyone knows what the guys in the mail room do. They sort memos, mail and
packages. They quietly go from desk to desk delivering the mail and picking up
outgoing mail. They are not supposed to read the mail, bother executives or
spend too much time with the various Secretaries.

But Marc, like the others ignored all that. He read every memo, made friends
with as many secretaries and administrative assistants as he could and smiled
and nodded hello to anyone in suits he encountered, male or female. Nobody
complained.

And he accepted as much overtime as he could. Not because he was trying to
butter up his boss or impress anyone, but because he needed the money.

His parents found out he was gay and told him to leave. It wasn't a big event,
however traumatic. His father found a gay porn magazine under Marc's mattress.
It wasn't an original place to hide it Marc admits, but most kids think of
their room as private. His Dad was searching for drugs, so he said. Marc's
mother a devout Southern Baptist. Enough said?

Marc grabbed what he could in the one hour they gave him and left the house.
He hasn't spoken to them since then.

So with some money saved from his grandparents inheritance, he rented a small
apartment, bought a couple of suits and began the rounds.

Most gay kids with money would have partied away the money, gone nuts being on
their own and "out" but Marc is a bit more sensible then that. In fact, he
moved to LA with a job already in line. And he's doing some stock work now.
Fortunatley, he's still boyish, mischevious, and loves being naked..but that's
our business again.

Marc was working late one night distributing supplies to all the floors in the
building. He thought that only he and the security guard were there. Stripped
down to his white tank top and jeans, Marc went about his business putting
reams of paper in copy machines, envelopes, pens, paper, staples and other
supplies in each floors cabinets.

"hey" the voice was sudden but soothing so Marc didn't jump..but he did turn
around quickly.

"sorry to do that..didn't know anyone else was working tonight" the man was
progbably in his thrities and wore the usual white shirt and suit trousers.
"got a spare bunch of yellow pads?"

Marc rummaged through his boxes and handed the man a package of the requested
pads.

"I go through these like toilet paper" he smiled. His eyes were grey which
fascinated Marc.

He smiled back. "no problem sir" he added the sir because that's the way he
was raised. "I can get you some extra if you need them. They dont' want us to
do that but...." Marc realized he didn't know who this man was and perhaps was
revealing a willingness to break the rules to the wrong person.

"no this will be enough" the man said and turned. Then he stopped and turned
around "you look good in that shirt by the way"

Marc didn't know what to say. He was supposed to wear the company blue button
down collar shirt at work. It was tied around his waist now.

Back in the basement, Marc was putting away the undistributed supplies,
putting processed orders on his Supervisors desk and getting ready to lock up
the office. It was Friday and he was ready for a weekend of exploring his
other side.

Marc likes to dance. He's one of those guys you see in dance clubs bare
chested and glowing with sweat through the night. From time to time, a fist
surrounded bottle may go to his nose..but other then that and a little pot, he
doesn't do drugs. I know this to be a fact. And despite our age difference he
gets me out there dancing all night long.....it's amazing what testosterone
mixed with love can make you do.

The phone rang just as Marc was about to turn off the lights.

"This is Damon. The guy you met earlier? I wonder if you would bring that
extra bunch of pads to my office."

"Uh I was just leaving but I can do that Sir" again the "Sir" came naturally.

"Oh if you're going home, that's ok."

Marc responded the way any agressive up and coming employee should. "no
problem, I'll bring them right up"

The guard nodded as Marc passed him. "Hey Spence, who's the guy on the 20th
floor working tonight. He wanted some supplies".

Spence, always friendly with the mail room boys, laughed. "If you dont' know
you aren't doing your job....but be nice to him....real nice" he laughed and
walked down the hall.

"dont' worry I won't be back upstairs for hours" he added confusing Marc.

"Hi" Damon looked up from his desk when Marc lightly knocked on the open door.
The man's office was indeed executive class.

"I use this when the old man's gone. He doesn't care...he likes it when we all
put in long hours" Damon explained in a way that made Marc believe it wasn't
his office after all.

"here are the pads" Marc held up the plastic wrapped bundle.

"put em there. Want a beer?" Damon had risen and walked to the bar
refrigerator on the side wall.

"uh , you sure it's ok?"

Damon handed a Beck's beer bottle to Marc. "Sure"

The liquid was better then ok. It flowed down Marc's throat startling his
entire body. He had planned to be drinking later that night anyway....so he
was staring early.

Damon sat on the couch and talked.

"So relax, tell me about the mail room. It's been a long time since I worked
there"

Marc told stories, mentioned unique traits of his Supervisor and Damon
laughed. As it turned out, Damon had worked there years ago under the same
Supervisor. It made Marc feel better and better about starting in the
basement. Damon, it appeared, had found success.

He was probably in his thrities, in ok shape, handsome Marc thought and very
friendly.

"Do you smoke?" Damon suddenly interupted some line of conversation with the
question.

"Uh no....never started that habit" Marc said.

"I meant weed...pot" Damon said holding up a rolled joint which he had pulled
out of his pocket. He didn't wait for Marc's response but lit the joint,
inhaled it and handed it to Marc.

As I said before, Marc does smoke pot. Some of the best and wildest sex we've
had has been after or during both of us smoking a joint. He says I'm uptight
anyway..and although around him I loosen up, some weed seems to help I must
admit.

Marc took the joint and inhaled deeply...letting the grass take effect. "Wow
great stuff. Better then we grew at home".

Marc and some of his childhood friends tried to grow pot in a field during
highschool They succeeded and even got stoned on it. But one day , they found
the field compeltely cut down and plowed under ending their illegal farming.

The joint went back and forth awhile.

As Marc was inhaling another drag, Damon added, "shame you put that back on.
You got the shoulders for that tank top you were wearing"

His eyes were like two round saucers, Marc remembers. And for some reason,
Marc unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside.

"nice" damon said petting Marc's rounded shoulders.

"you work out?"

"used to swim allot" Marc explained.

"You must look hot under that" Damon said.

And Marc, now totally stoned and a little drunk peeled his tank top off as
Damon watched. He doesn't remember thinking about it, he just did it.

The man touched Marc's nipples sending shivers of pleasure through the boy's
body.

Marc has nipples that always seem to be erect. I love playing with them..and
Marc loves it too..gentle or hard..he becomes so turned on, it's like an easy
switch to flick.

Damon saw the reaction to his touch and expanded it to include his toungue and
teeth. Marc moaned and squirmed moving his erection in his jeans.

Damon's hands unbuttoned the boys jeans and slid his hands under Marc's
buttocks.

Marc started unbuttoning the mans shirt without thinking about it. A wonderful
part of being 23 was that you do things without worrying about them from time
to time.

The next conscious thought Marc remembers was being totally naked and rolling
on the floor with this older man. He kissed and was kissed. His nipples were
bitten and he begged for more. He sucked the mans nipples, cock and balls and
the man did the same to him.

He looked up at the man as he felt Damons cock inside him and lost his
thoughts in the two large grey eyes. He didnt' realize until his orgasm that
Damon had hold of his cock and was pumping him with each fuck stroke in his
butt.

They lay together for awhile..the twilight of orgasm...and Marc felt Damon's
petting, strokes, and kisses. It hadn't ended he knew. Marc can get hard and
cum at least three times when he's really aroused. Sometimes a fourth time can
happen though I'm usually worn out by then.

Marc sucked the man until he was hard again and squatted on the cock that
easily slipped back into familiar territory. Marc gyrated and watched the
man's face twitch and quiver as he brought him to a second orgasm.

The man made him stay put as he bent his head forward far enough to suck
Marc's cock until it spewed out a second load itself..the Damon fell back to
the floor..obviously with a great deal of neck pain.

"turn over" Marc said.

Damon looked questioningly at first then turned over probably assumign that
Marc wanted to fuck him. Of course Marc did, but not yet. Instead he gave the
man a massage.

"hey kid you look tired..come here" the man had said in the lobby of the
building where Marc had first lived after being kicked out. The older man
began to massage Marc's neck, shoulders and back. It was true that Marc was
tired and tense..after days of job interviews and stress being on his own.
"Come upstairs and I'll give you a total massage". Marc went upstairs and let
the man undress him and teach him the joy of a pair of mans hands kneeding you
head to toe..then bringing you to orgasm too.

Marc learned allot from that man the several times he let himself be rubbed
and masturbated. He lived there only a week, but by the end of that time Marc
had learned a great deal.

He worked on Damon the way that man had instructed him just months ago. "You
don't just rub the muscles, you kneed them..you learn about them, you feel the
person you're working on, you judge their reactions, their pulse, their
forms...."

Damon was groaning and muttering as Marc moved his young strong hands from the
mans neck down to his heels. Marc's thumbs moved between the man's thighs
where probably nobody had touched before. Marc remembered the feeling and was
intent on giving the same pleasure to Damon.

On his back, Damon lay there like a captive as Marc moved around, working the
mans head, neck, shoudlers, pectorals, stomach, thighs and down to the mans
toes and sole of his feet.

Then slowly, Mark licked the man's entire body spending time on places which
made Damon twitch, sigh or moan. His mouth was soonfull of Damon's sperm...and
Marc smiled down at the man..as the cum spilled out of the corners of his
mouth.

"Wow" Damon said. Marc lay on top of the man and was soon enclosed in the
arms. He still likes to spend long hours in my arms....as if I'm keeping him
safe..as for me I just want to keep him close.

Marc and Damon stayed naked smoking more weed and drinking some more beer
until the phone rang.

"yep, I know..ok Spence" damon said.

"Hey I live on Peachtree. Why not come over and have some dinner, relax and
... whatever"

It was the whatever that Marc wanted more of and he agreed relunctantly
putting his clothes on.

Did I mention that Marc loves being naked? He hangs out at my place that way
lots of time. Sometimes he comes over and strips down, we watch TV and cuddle
even sleep in the same bed and dont' have sex. I usualy want to, maybe he does
to, but there's something nice about doing that..even when we're both erect.
.. to ignore it and just "hang out" paron the pun.

He says that weekend with Damon he had sex though...several times before he
walked home..wearing his company shirt. He had left his white tank top at
Damon's house on purpose.

That affair continued and grew until Damon introduced Marc to his wife and
kids. Damon had told him about them but meeting them was a different matter.

By then too, Damon had helped Marc move out of the mail room and into the
Executive Training Program. "That's how I started" Damon said. Marc never did
ask him if he had sex with an executive first though..he didn't want to know.

"So Damon March reccommended you" the Mail Room Supervisor said "I remember
him, always looking for an opportunity to get promoted. But he did whatever he
did quietly...never got a complaint about him". The smile on the Supervisor's
face seemed to say he knew more then he admitted. And he probably suspected or
knew more about Marc's promotion then he'd admite too.

Marc spent the year in the Program and got transferred to their Houston
office. Damon and he still keep in touch. In fact while sitting, naked of
course, in my lap, he talked to the guy on the phone the other night. I was a
bit jealous but laughed at myslef. Marc WAS naked in my lap not Damons I said
to myself. But afterwards we did have one hell of a naked free for all.
Inspired by memories of Damon or not, it was fantastic. So I won't complain.

And executive search firm offered Marc a job in the LA area and thanks that
some internet chatting, I met Marc.

I havn't a job to offer. He has one.

All I have is me and now him. So I feel privaleged and frankly snub my mental
nose at Damon though we never met or even talked. But somehow, deep inside
Marc, is the impression that Damon left. And I'll try to match it..if not go
beyond that.

Hell, I think I'll work some overtime and ask Marc to come over to my office
one night wearing a white tank top. We'll see how much overtime he's still
willing to put in even though he's got a great job now.