by HAROLD BASKIN
Sonofabitch! He was a son-of-a-bitch and I hated him, and I loved him, and I wanted him. But I couldn’t have him. I was sure he was straight. His flirting was just his way of leading everybody on, man, woman, child or animal. And they all went after him, but he neatly sidestepped every approach and just kept on flirting.
No, it wasn’t just in the mind of the beholder. Besides being a good-looking, sexy-looking bastard with an always bulging basket, he was always shooting conspiratorial winks, resting his arm around a shoulder or a hand on a buttock, or squeezing, thrusting or lifting his frequent hard-ons, usually followed by a wink and a nod towards one of the girls, indicating that she was the cause of his predicament.
But nobody would have noticed his hard-on if he hadn’t pointed it out.
Maybe there was a bit of sour-grape in my attitude; I was the fair-haired boy in the three years I worked for the company. I’d been told I did twice as much work as any of my predecessors and with virtually no mistakes. I liked the work and it came easy to me, and I found that an occasional half- hour overtime would let me finish a stack of work that would have taken half of the next day, with the usual daytime interruptions.
I’d been well rewarded. As he announced my most recent raise, my boss told me that I was setting a new record in the company; no one had ever before gotten as big a jump in salary in as short a time.
Then along came “golden-boy.” After just six months he was making as much as I. I wouldn’t have minded if he deserved it, but he managed to shift most of his work off on other people, with vague hints of sexual reward sometime in the future. His meteoric raises were ostensibly based on his “invaluable suggestions” to the boss, but they were never put into effect, they were all so grandiosely impractical or downright impossible. The real reason was that he had the boss’s daughter wrapped around his little finger.
She was “dropping in” to the office with increasing frequency. His leers and innuendos would have her visibly panting. He managed to sidestep her hints for dates while seeming to promise paradise in some indefinite tomorrow. She kept coming back for more. And Daddy kept increasing Lee’s paycheck.
Several times, after a day of being teased by his hard-ons, I asked him to join me for dinner in a local restaurant. He’d accept, but each time, as we were about to leave the office, he’d just remember that he forgot to bring his wallet.
The first time I told him to forget it, it’d be my treat. The following times I said he could pay me back the next day, but they turned out to be my treat too. he never seemed to remember by the next day.
After dinner I’d suggest going up to my place for a drink, coffee, hi-fi or just conversation, but he always had to run—a late date, an expected phone call, something.
On this particular day, I put “Operation Showdown” into effect.
Phase I—It had been an especially frustrating day. Several times Lee winked at me and then looked down at his lap where he had his fist gripped around the base of his erection and he moved it around in his pants leg. Then he nodded his head towards one of the girls at the other end of the room.
Once he stood in front of me grinding his hard crotch into the edge of my desk, then letting it rest on the top, so the entire outline was unmistakable. Wink and nod. Also extended tongue and slurping noise.
As we were preparing to leave for the day I asked him to join me for a bite at Marvin’s Garden.
Phase II—“Leave your car here. It’s only four blocks away. I’ll drive you back after dinner.”
A wary look came over his face and I could see him decide that he could always walk back to his car, so he accepted.
Phase III—I knew he would provide. As soon as we were in my car, he said, “Oh, shit! I left my wallet home today.”
Phase IV—“Oh, double shit! So did I. Well, I’ll just take a run over to my apartment and pick it up. I don’t live far from here.”
I ignored the look of near panic, and just took off.
Phase V—When I parked in front of my building, I told him to come up with me. He said, “I’ll wait here. It won’t take you long.”
I told him that I had to wait for a long-distance phone call, and that the street was unsafe, muggings, rapes, etc.
With much rightful foreboding, he followed me.
Phase VI—As soon as we stepped into the doorway, I turned around and grabbed his crotch.
He forced a smile as he tried to push my hand away.
“Hey, what’s going on, buddy?”
“Just want to see if that famous bulge is all real.”
“Famous? Whaddaya mean, ‘famous’?”
“You’ve been shoving it under everybody’s nose in the office.”
“Aw, you’ve gotta be kidding.”
“No, but I want to know if you’ve been kidding.”
I started unbuttoning his shirt. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Unbuttoning your shirt.”
“I can see that but what. ”
He couldn’t talk with my tongue in his mouth, but there were lots of splutters.
I held the kiss to avoid having to tell him I was unbuckling his pants. As I lowered his pants, I relinquished his mouth for his nipple. His body was trembling. He grabbed my head and shoulder to keep from keeling over. Beautiful! He was scared. That meant no split lip or busted jaw for me. That is, unless his cock was as big as it looked through his pants.
By the time I worked my way down to its level, it showed promise of exceeding expectations.
I licked it ever so lightly. I grazed my lips over the surface and let my tongue touch here and there. He had the most beautiful kind of foreskin; it just barely reached the tip of the head. Only then it was riding up to the back of the head.
I followed it with my lips, my tongue lavishing caresses all over the head, with the tip occasionally trying to venture into the pisshole.
Lee was actually whimpering.
As his cock got completely hard, he managed to regain some of his bravado.
“Eat it, cocksucker!”
As I gradually worked my way down his shaft, he was bunching my sweater up on my shoulder. I thought it was just his nervousness, but when I pulled my head off his cock for a breather, he whipped my sweater off my body.
He jammed my head back into his crotch and reached down to unbuckle my pants. He groped around inside until he grabbed my cock and pulled it out of the opening. This was going even better than I had hoped, and when he started jacking me off, I knew I had him where I wanted him.
I pushed him backward, and with his feet hobbled by his pants, he fell over, right onto the couch. He spread his knees wide apart, giving me a full view of one of the most gorgeous, alabaster underbodies I’d ever seen in my life. There was hardly a hair marring that expanse of white satin.
But visual aesthetics would have to wait until I had that maverick completely broken. So I pounced back on the saddle-horn.
He didn’t think I noticed when he kissed my forearm lightly, but I wasn’t missing a trick. His hands both went to my head, but instead of just pushing, they were fondling and caressing. They gripped tighter as he was approaching his climax and his whole body was trembling again.
My own cock was at full-mast and I was ready for—
Phase VII— I raised my head and kissed him. His arms automatically went around my body and he embraced me with a bear hug.
His lips clamped mine like a suction cup and his tongue flailed feverishly in my mouth. He was still whimpering and his midsection was bucking wildly. He kept pulling my body closer to press against his cock, but when he felt my hard-on poke his groin, he jumped as if he had received an electric shock.
His hands dropped from my body and he pulled his face away from mine.
I stood up with my cock just inches from his face. He stared at it wild-eyed.
“Go ahead, suck it!”
His voice cracked as he said, “I’m not queer! I’m not queer!”
“If you want yours sucked, you’re going to have to reciprocate. Suck it!”
“But I’ve never done it before. I can’t. Please, just suck me off. I’ve gotta cum. I’ve just gotta!”
He was almost crying, and I knew I had him where I wanted him. After six months of cockteasing, he was going to pay in full.
“I’ll suck you off. I’ll make you cum. You’ll shoot your hot load of cream all the way down my throat. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes! Please! Now! Let me!”
“Well, it sounds just as good to me. I like it as much as you do. So I’m willing to do it to you, if you’ll do it to me.”
I pushed his head forward. He set up a rigid resistance that gradually weakened. He was still trembling, and when his lips touched my shaft, I felt the vibrations run through me.
He held still while I ran my cock back and forth through his lips like a harmonica. Well, they call them “mouth-organs,” don’t they?
When he had the side of my head clamped between his lips, I moved to a spot directly in front of him, aiming my prick straight towards his throat. I resisted the impulse to push. I wanted to test his obedience.
“Let me feel your tongue! Lick it!”
I could feel it touch and back off. Then another quick touch, then another.
The touches made my cock jump and I was happy to feel his lips clamp tighter to keep from losing it.
“Pretty good! Now get the whole head in your mouth and wet it down real good’”
So as not to do more than he was ordered to do, he very slowly advanced his lips until barely over the ridge, then he clamped tight to be sure he didn’t slip down any further. He strained to collect as much saliva as possible, probably seeking insulation for his tongue, to prevent direct contact with my cock. Then his tongue began slow spirals beginning at the ridge and narrowing to the pisshole. I was on fire, but I didn’t know if it was from his ministrations or from my power over him. Probably both. They say that revenge is sweet. I was learning just how sweet it is.
I eased my cock out of his mouth and I was surprised by the suction. He seemed to want to keep it there.
I lifted it slowly and told him to stick out his tongue and lick it down to the base. When he hit bottom, I ordered him to lick my balls.
He continued moving his tongue down and around my balls, burying his face in my crotch. I didn’t have to hold my cock up out of the way-it was mashed against his forehead.
His eyes were shut, so maybe he couldn’t tell how far he was going, but when he got to the bottom of my balls, he continued up the underside to the perineum, and he didn’t stop there. He went as far back between my legs as his tongue could reach, which was just a fraction of an inch short of my asshole.
It was unbelievable! I hadn’t expected to progress so far in Phase VII. I had it planned somewhere after Phase X. But escalation seemed the order of the day, so I turned around with my ass facing him. His hand shot around me to grasp my cock. He hung on to it as if for dear life. Lee-baby was definitely progressing.
“Kiss my ass!” I ordered.
He planted wet, open-mouthed kisses all over my butt, occasionally taking a light nibble as if testing its sponginess.
“Now shove your tongue in the crack!” I said, as I leaned over to give him easier access. He hesitated, and even loosened his grip on my cock.
I was afraid he was losing his hard-on and regaining his resistance. I reached between my legs and started jacking his cock up again.
It had barely started to swell when I felt his tongue on the back of my balls. It traced a wide swath up the perineum, over the hole and almost all the way up to my waist. Then it retraced its path downward. On the second trip up it paused at the sphincter. It sharpened to a point as it investigated the corrugated ring. It traveled around in slow circles, narrowing to the opening which was relaxing from the gentle massage. Then the tip probed at the center which yielded, allowing it to slip inside as far as it could reach.
I was at the boiling point. Although it felt good, I had no intention of shooting into thin air.
I flopped down on the couch next to him and grasped his cock to keep him sexed up. I was happy to learn that all I had to do was keep him aroused and he would do anything, but anything, I wanted. I finally had him completely broken in. Or at least, I thought so then.
My boner was waving in the air and Lee took the hint. He held it with his fingers and lowered his face to it. His tongue made the first contact and then his lips. When he had the head in his mouth, I raised my hips and sent my entire cock down his throat.
He gagged and pulled his head off, then took a vicious bite out of the head. I screamed and was about to punch his face, when I realized it was my own fault for surprising him that way, and his reaction was probably automatic.
I guess it was, because his hard- on completely disappeared even faster than mine.
I suddenly had misgivings about his seduction. Having broken through his aggressive shell, I found a lonely, lost little boy. Feelings of pity and love were growing in me as I saw his vulnerability. I didn’t want to lose him, but I wouldn’t take advantage of his weaknesses.
Now that he was back to “normal” (unaroused sexually), I put it to him straight.
I admitted that there was a bit of malice behind my scheme, but that there was a great deal of attraction towards him, or I never would have bothered. I tried to seduce him because I liked him, or, at least, because I thought I would like him once I got behind his shield of arrogance. There seemed to be no other way to reach him than through “Operation Showdown.”
If he’d never “come out” in the past, he surely had a great deal of latency or he never would have enticed the men, as well as the women, in the office.
If he liked me and wanted to experiment further into gay sex and life, I would treat him gently, but would eventually insist that he go all the way—at least once—to determine if it was for him or not.
If he had already decided not to delve further, he could just get dressed and I would drive him back to his car. I would never say another word about it, either to him or to anyone else. We could remain friends and comfortable business associates, as long as he never again teased me with suggestiveness that he had no intention of carrying through.
“I’m going into my bedroom to get dressed. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”
I added that last statement to ease my conscience. I wanted him to know that I had bent over backwards in making his refusal as easy for him as possible.
I stepped into the curtained hallway leading to my bedroom. My heart was in my throat, waiting for his decision. I couldn’t help peeking to see if he had decided yet.
The sight of him sitting with his face in his hands almost tore me up. I went into my bedroom, slipped on a jumpsuit, and sat down on the bed to wait.
It seemed like an eternity. It must have been a full half hour when I heard him come through the curtain.
“Mike!” he bellowed. It sounded angry.
I peeked through the crack in the door and my insides went flipflop. He was standing there nude with a radiant smile on his face. He was more dazzlingly beautiful than I had ever imagined. I couldn’t trust myself to speak.
Not hearing from me, he must have thought I had second thoughts. He began to look around apprehensively, then he sat on the sideboard and practically crumbled. A pitiful look of dejection came over him. At last he spoke.
“Mike, I won’t blame you if you’ve changed your mind. I’ve been a bastard, a jackass, an idiot. I honestly didn’t realize I was teasing you or the other guys. I thought I was just acting like any big ass-man would. I always pointed out my hard-ons to make you think that the girls were always turning me on, and to hide the fact that it was you who really turned me on.
“I didn’t want you to think I was queer. Oh. I’ve never had sex with a guy! But then I’ve never had sex with a girl either. And I’ve never wanted to. I feel like I’m some kind of a freak. All the way through high school I got turned on by guys and I’d always try to make them believe it was some girl who did it. I guess I exaggerated so much to cover up my fear of being found out. So I acted like the world’s biggest sex fiend and when the girls would corner me, I invented all kinds of dodges to make them believe I had much better stuff on the string and couldn’t bother with amateurs.
“I never accepted a date or an invitation to a party for fear of a showdown—I might have to put up or shut up. I’d stay home and masturbate.
“I’ve only had one lover in my life, only one close friend. Come here and meet him—my left hand!
“You think I seem horny at work? You have no idea of what I’d be like if I didn’t jack off at least four times a day. Always thinking of you-imagining what you look like with your clothes off sometimes, mostly just your face. At least three times at night before I can fall asleep, and at least once in the morning so I can get my pants on.
“Otherwise I’d have raped you in front of everybody. So far you’ve been safe, because I also jack off in the john at work so I can avoid attacking you until closing time.
“And my never having money when you ask me to join you for dinner. That’s just a perverse little game I play to see how far I can go with you; to try to find out how much you really like me. It’s stupid I know; it probably had the exact opposite effect. But I was searching for some kind of bond between us, even if it’s just a running gag that only the two of us know about. You do realize that I’ve never let you take me to anyplace but the cheapest restaurants?
“Then when you’d ask me to come over to your place—you have no idea of what it cost me to refuse!… No idea!… No idea.”
That did it. I shoved a pillow against my face so he wouldn’t hear me bawling. I was so ashamed of my behavior that I couldn’t go out and face him.
After a long while he said, “I don’t blame you. Don’t bother getting dressed. I’ll walk back.” And he stood up.
I shed my jumpsuit in a split second and rushed out into the hallway.
“I’m not getting dressed, and neither are you!”
I grabbed his hand. He tried to shake loose and get by me.
“I can’t face you, now that I realize how rotten I’ve acted towards you.”
“Shit, baby! We’ve both got so damn much to apologize for, we could spend the rest of our lives doing nothing but that. Or we could consider that one cancels out the other, and start right now from scratch.”
I reached for his lips with mine. He kept turning his head away, but I finally landed on target.
We kissed lightly, then deeper and deeper until I could feel our souls becoming one. His arms slowly crept around me and soon we were in a bear hug.
My heart stopped when he withdrew his face from mine. But it was only away long enough to say one word, “Scratch!”
