Creative Employment Part 1

Part I
All the Usual warnings and Commentary apply... Really, you should know what you're doing.
Welcome to my second story project! This first part has been edited since it was first released in 2007, because the original version made me cringe. All commentary and critiques welcome. Please also check out "the Groupie" and "the Discerning Palate", both located in Adult Friends.
I also have a yahoo group at, where I post all my stories first. Enjoy!

Tom's large hands grabbed the front of my dress shirt and threw me against the closed wooden door hard enough that my head bounced forward a bit. "Ow..." I rubbed the back of my skull.

"You hurt?" He asked, blinking those two massive, deep blue eyes at me. "Shit, Will-"

As a sign to shut the hell up I reached down and gave his balls a light squeeze, causing him to crush his lips against mine and groan into my mouth. I gripped at the back of his shirt and felt those incredible round muscles underneath before moving downwards. My other hand clutched at his bicep as he fucked me with his tongue and I battled bravely back with mine. Oh, if only I could get him to REALLY fuck me with his tongue...

This thought was interrupted by his lips moving down to my collarbone and his cock grinding into mine beneath our clothing, and I arched my back into the door. I had loosened my tie coming into the room and taken off my suit coat, so it was not much work for Tom to undo the buttons on my Boss shirt and find my nipples, giving them at first a gentle squeeze and then a serious twist that had me bumping against the door again.

"You like that?" It was a rhetorical question, he knew by now how very sensitive my nipples were. "Yeah, I know you do." He was now nipping at them with his teeth, giving one a good pull, which had me almost bucking against him.

Running my hands through his short dark red hair, I appreciated the strength and solidness of his body, his beautiful Irish lips and eyes; I wanted to devour them.

"Let me suck you." I breathed, clutching his shoulders as he grabbed my ass and continued to work my nipples. My cock was so hard it was starting to hurt.

With his chin resting against my stomach he looked up at me, eyes full of mischief. "Yeah? Right now?"

"Right now."

"Mmmm, making demands of me?" He teased, nipping at a bud again and running his body up over my groin as he straightened up to press against me and look me in the eye. "What if I won't let you?"

His hand reached up and grabbed the back of my spiky hair and pulled it down, forcing a savage kiss on me before pulling my head straight again. When he did that I was enraged, and I loved it. "What if I make you beg?" Reaching down, he stroked me through my pants, and I moaned in a way that was something of a growl.

"I won't beg," I swore, bumping forward against his pelvis, feeling how strained his erection had become. "I don't need to." I pushed him forward suddenly, and he was taken off balance enough for me to force him back onto his desk, ass first. Forcing myself between his legs I pulled him forward by his neck by placing a hand on his cock, rubbing it slowly.

I leaned forward and licked his right ear. "Still want me to beg?" I popped the button at
the top of his pants and unzipped them slowly.

"Fuck yeah, I do," he answered, his Boston accent thickening and his expression turning stubborn. I lifted my hand; in response his arm flew out and he grabbed my wrist, smiling with a devil's gleam. "But I'm too horny to be that patient." He kissed me again, short and demanding. I moved downwards from his lips to his neck, my hands pushing his pants down to his strong, muscled thighs.

He was a boxer man through and through, and I enjoyed running my fingers up underneath the checkered cotton and then a teasing finger through the button up fly in front.

"Yum... "I said appreciatively at the feel of his velvety tool, and pushed his boxers so they followed his pants around his ankles so it sprang to full, impressive attention. His hands tightened on my shoulders, massaging and squeezing.

"Think you can handle that, boy?" Tom's voice was sharp and wicked, and I looked up to snarl at him playfully. This was becoming an old joke between us, and it never got old proving to him again and again that I could handle it and more. I fucking loved our ever-shifting power dynamics when we made out.

We were both good and warmed up by this point, so I surprised him by going right in and taking all of his impressive cut cock in my mouth with one smooth motion - without a discernable gag, he said modestly.

"Holy Shit, Will -- Uuuuuugggghh." I went slowly at first, testing my motion, and then rode his rod up and down, adding a hand to firmly twist his skin from the base upwards in a way that I knew drove him nuts. Licking his satin head, I loved the bump as it hit the back of my throat. The more often I tasted Tom, the more addicted I became.

His groans became more pronounced, and as his hands clutched my hair more desperately it was clear he was close to coming. Reaching up for my piece de resistance I slipped my hand beneath his balls and touched the spot right beneath his asshole, causing him to spasm with a choked yell and to come, in several strong spurts, into my mouth. Swallowing his healthy-tasting cum I slowly released him, and he pulled me up to his lips.

What Tom did next surprised me, because he had never done it before -- he kissed me before I could rinse out my mouth, first tentatively and with more passion, taking his own cum into his mouth and swapping it with our spit. When he released me he was blushing. Still, he looked pretty happy, with half-lidded eyes and a small, private smile. I sat on the desk next to him, leaning into him a bit while I caught my breath and took a swig from the water bottle on his desk.

We stayed like that for a moment, the two of us leaning against the desk with his pants around his ankles and my shirt open. I really hoped I didn't pop a button this time; I liked nice shirts more than I should, and this was really getting expensive.

Not that I really minded.

There was the hum of the servers in the next room and the three computers he had hooked up for various purposes, mingled with the lower rumble of the building air handling system. Our breath came out ragged and uneven, and I was enjoying the feeling of his hand on my thigh, relaxed yet proprietary.

"You sure you don't want me to do anything about that?" He was looking at my erection, his eyebrows high.

Glancing at my watch I shook my head and suppressing my wince. I might, just might have enough time to stop in the bathroom and take care of the pressure. Yes, having him relieve me was significantly more appealing, and I did have a few minutes. But I tended to lose track of time when I was with Tom, and him taking care of me could easily turn into another round that would take god knows how long. I wanted more time with him, I really did. Unfortunately, I had a teleconference with a major client followed by a meeting with our productivity consultant, so sticking around for more fun wasn't a mature option.

I stood up and Tom's hand disappeared; I turned away from him and started to adjust myself. Despite having those few minutes, I didn't want to bask too much in the moment. The possibility of my loneliness making me embarrassingly clingy with this supposedly straight computer hottie was increasing daily. I'd not been in Boston for very long, and this was currently my only semi-regular personal interaction since I'd moved here. And, well, I'd been noticing a marked upswing in the tendency of my Irish fuck-buddy to over-analyze things a bit, especially in the last week or so. I was somewhat scared of a reactionary "holy shit I'm not gay" moment that might end up with an ugly interaction and a professional fallout that could have all sorts of ugly repercussions.

No, this was just a lark.

I heard Tom push himself off the desk, and turned to see him grab a roll of paper towel, a recent and very smart addition to the room, to clean himself up. He had turned his body away to do so, and then looked up with a small, embarrassed smile as he zipped himself up. It was such a sweet, weirdly gentlemanly gesture I had to smile. He was full of them.

Of course, I was also admiring his ass before he covered it up. Nowhere had I seen such a perfect ass outside of porn, high and tight yet round, neither too big nor too small. No ass was more made for groping. Did his fiancée appreciate it like I did?
I stopped myself. This was not at all a good mental path for me to walk down - whenever I did an annoying tightness settled into my gut and reached up to scratch at my heart.

"Hey," his voice was tentative, such a change from his attitude of sexual control a couple of minutes ago I looked up from buttoning my shirt. His profile was to me and he was taking an awful lot of care just to do up his pants and belt.


"So, are you...really gay?"

He got an eyebrow for that one.

"I don't know, Tom, am I really gay?" Pursing my lips I played Mock Angry, amused he was so embarrassed he didn't get the `mock' part.

His face turned very red and he turned to look straight at me, brow wrinkled. "No, shit, that's not what I meant. I mean, you're awfully good at this --"

"Thanks, I think."

The humor wasn't lost on him this time. "Asshole." He growled at me playfully, but returned instantly to serious. "I mean, do you call yourself... gay? Do people know?"

It was criminal how adorable he could be, but that dangerous over-analytical aspect of his personality was coming back. I finished buttoning my shirt and started on my tie.

"You mean, am I Out? Yes, I am, at least to those that matter. My family knows, as do all my friends. If they don't, they're not really friends." I looked down, and was happy with what I saw. No one would notice I'd been sucking cock just minutes before, nope. "No one in Boston knows, but I haven't had time to really get out much in the last four months and sow my wild gay oats."

"You like to sow your wild gay oats?" It was such a silly question I decided to take it as rhetorical and ignored it, turning to him while giving my tie a final yank.

"I look okay?"

Tom was still strangely serious. "You look incredible, as always."

"Flattery, flattery..." With a small smile and as usual not knowing what else to do when we were over messing around, I slipped out of his office and ran up the stairs two at a time.

There had been a moment there when I almost asked Tom how gay he thought he was. Every bit of me had wanted to.

But that was a can of worms that should probably stay sealed tight and utterly unopened.

"Thanks, Jim." I said, leaning back into my chair and twirling my pen in my fingers. "That information will really help us out. We'll have a solid presentation for you by the end of the week, and then we can discuss a roll-out schedule on the end-user site service. No, my pleasure. Talk to you next week."

I put down the phone, and looked at the clock with a sigh. No time to call my sister in Madison before my next meeting; I had to keep the day rolling.

"Mr. Merrin?" Allie, my highly effective secretary, leaned into the room. "Rich Ferigini is here." She was a curvy, African-American, probably smarter than I was and a total life-saver.

Without her I would be utterly lost in the sea of my new job and corporation. The company was in a precarious position, and after everything the last guy in charge did to them the employees were not inclined to view their new boss as an ally. The fact that I was younger than all of them, and the only Asian guy in the building, probably didn't help. And thus thank god for Allie - she told me all the things no one else was willing to. She was firmly supportive of and loyal to me regardless of how boneheaded my decisions were, and she kept me abreast of what was running through the rumor mill and if any streams of discontent were turning into rivers. Her information made me seem like far less of a clueless asshole then I really was.

Without her I'd have some serious regrets about taking a job that was far more responsibility than I deserved to be given in light of my experience.

"Wow, Rich is almost early; that's pretty impressive for him." I smiled at her. "Thanks, you. Show him in." If only I could ask her to hold him off for 5 minutes, I'd take a quick breather and unwind for a moment. But the front walls of my office were glass, and everything I did was available for public viewing. This meant, of course, I was constantly being watched by my employees. For example, Gina from Human Resources was giving me the evil eye. She was always giving me the evil eye.

"For you, handsome, anything." Allie winked, and a minute later Rich Ferigini strode into my office. A tall, prematurely gray man in his late 30s, he was trim and beautifully dressed. I lusted after his suits, to be honest. He had a Clooney-esque quirk to his mouth, and dark, almost mischievous eyes. It was hard to deny I was attracted to Rich, although after 4 months of work-and-relocation-induced celibacy I could have probably worked up an erection for a rock. I was a fan of regular, satisfying, athletic sex, and I wasn't getting any.

That was my excuse for messing around with a straight boy, right? Right.

"Rich." I stood up, and shook his hand. He sat down and crossed one long leg while giving me his usual languid and rather sexy smile.

"How are you, Will?"

"Fine, really." I was quite good at avoiding any real discussions of how I was doing these days; the real answer wasn't particularly interesting. "So how were our numbers this week? Any signs of improvement?"

We walked through his assessment of our office, and what he recommended we do to improve morale and productivity. When corporate had first mandated Rich's services for our struggling little branch I had not been happy, believing it was an insult to the already beleaguered employees and a bureaucratic, expensive nightmare for everyone involved. I knew enough about corporate consultants to believe they were a waste of time and money.

But over time Rich was bringing me around to see the utility in his services, since after implementing a couple of his more straightforward suggestions I had seen almost instantaneous and noticeable improvement in the quality of work being done by my project coordinators and data entry departments. We discussed those very same areas of progress, he gave me a couple of other ideas and an updated report, and we ended up deciding that I should hold off on a finance re-organization until they got settled into some of the other changes. After winding down the work conversation, we ended up casually discussing good restaurants, fun neighborhoods, and other facts of Boston life that a new resident should know. I was very grateful for the information. Yes, I could have gone online, looked up everything I ever could have wanted to about the City of Boston and gotten great ideas on what to do with myself, and I'm sure someday I will. But I liked talking to a real live person and getting more personalized recommendations. The interaction reminded me I was human, and more than a machine in a suit.

"So, Merrin." Rich was leaning back, a study in how to be casual but professional at the same time. I hope to transmit that level of business suave by the time I'm his age, although I suspected it might have been nature, not nurture. His bedroom eyes watched me closely, but not disturbingly so. "If it isn't rude of me to ask, aren't you Asian? Why Merrin?"

"Half." I smiled. "My father's white, my mother's Korean. I look more like her in the face, my sister looks more like him, and my other brother is exactly in-between. Non-Asians don't always spot the Caucasian, though."

"Huh," he said, and laid back to look at me with half-lidded eyes. "It's a very attractive mix."

Was he flirting with me?

"Thanks. Hey, do you have any recommendations for a good place to catch soccer games around here? I haven't had the time to get cable and I really don't have time to wait around for the cable guy, but I miss my fix." Diverting the subject seemed the best plan, since I really didn't want to create an uncomfortable situation by misreading his tone and body language.

"I know a few good pubs. I'll take you to them." Rich quirked a smile, and now I was absolutely certain he was flirting. "If you'll let me."

My mind whirled a bit, and I was ashamed to say it didn't whirl around the attractive man in front of me - it whirled around Tom. You're an idiot, I admonished myself. Rich was just a touch too slick for my usual tastes, but I was still fairly confident that he tasted good. As good as Tom? Probably not. But at the very least he was offering himself to me. And a date! How long had it been since I had been on one of those?

"Sure." I smiled back. "That'd be great." We were being very studied and casual with our body language, naturally shaping our words to not necessarily reflect what we were discussing. This was a good thing, as my head sales consultant Phil, who happened to be the biggest gossip in Massachusetts, watched everything I did like a particularly riveting movie. Supposedly he was the old branch head's favorite little ass-kisser, which did always make me wonder how much Phil had known about that man's thieving habits.

Rich stood up and then leaned forward to shake hands. The span of time his hand held mine was a bit long for a friendly shake, however, and he let it go with a caress of my fingers. "Let me get your cell number, then, since you can't be in work ALL the time."

You get my mind off my doomed lust for time and I'll play hokey any time you want me to, handsome. (This was probably not necessarily true, but it sounded great in my head.0

"Sure, it's..."

"So are you ready to check out that new protocol, Mr. Merrin?" How he slipped up without me noticing, I don't know, but Tom looked genuinely surprised when he looked up from the binder in his hand to see Rich standing a bit too close to me in the entrance to my office. "Oh! I'm sorry for interrupting. I'll reschedule our testing session for tomorrow."

"Testing?" I turned my body around to blink at Tom. I'd seen no testing on my Outlook calendar that morning, and Allie would have informed me of any changes or additions.

"Testing the candidates for our new database system. they've all finished their demo pages, and the RFPs are in." He gave both Rich and I a winsome smile and a shrug. "But I'll just send you an email, and -"

"No, we're really done here. Talk to you soon, Will." Rich smiled, walked past Tom, and turned to give me -- oh, no he didn't -- a wink before striding out the door. Goddamnit. It would have been nice to have a possibly gay man to show me around this alien place, and Tom had just destroyed my immediate chances to schedule some time for Rich to do just that. Of course, the problem was, I'd rather be with my IT guy any day, watching soccer or... well, there were a lot of dirty things I hadn't done with Tom that I'd really like to try. I thought about them way too often for my own good.

And because of that fixation I had some sublimated anger towards the guy, although I couldn't have explained it to you at the time.

I scowled at Tom. "You didn't email me about the testing, Tom - I would have noticed it you had. What's with the barging into my meeting for something that could obviously wait?"

He watched me steadily for a moment, and then pulled a face of pure innocence.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Merrin; I seriously didn't mean to come in when someone else was in here. I just... wanted to show you something downstairs. I wanted to... test something, but think you should be there to see it."

And his blue eyes swept me up and down in a way that had me blushing. I never did take care of that erection, which meant it wanted to come roaring back in the worst way, especially when he looked at me like that. "Testing?" In the last couple of weeks he'd gotten very, very good at certain things.

He smiled that all-American Irish boy smile of his. "Testing."

And Rich was forgotten as I promised to check out the new system in Tom's office within 10 minutes. Twice in one day. The man had me seriously re-programmed.

To be Continued!