Date: Fri, 2 Jul 2004 12:00:08 -0700 (PDT) From: Paul Tenney Subject: Just Another Day at Work, fifth Installment The story below is a work of fiction. It may contain erotic or sexually explicit behavior between males. If you find this work offensive or are too young, please exit now. The author reserves copyright privileges as of July 2004. This work may not be posted on any other website nor reproduced, except for personal use, without the written permission of the author. If you'd like to comment or just say `Hi', my e-mail address is dpxeiv@yahoo.com. Just Another Evening at Home by DPT Copyrigh 2004 "Hey Bubba," I heard as I answered my cell. "Hey, what's going on?" I asked. "Wishing were we hanging in your tree fort." "Me too," I said, "So that's why you called to reminisce about our juvenile adventures?" "What's wrong with you?" Mark asked. "Nothing, I'm walking the lot, and nothing is happening, these low and no rates are killing the used car market, which means that I'm watching my livelihood dry up," I said explaining this to him for the hundredth time. "I'm sorry Eric, I know you're stressed about that," Mark said sympathetically, "anyhow, not to add to your stress, but Owen is in town tonight." "Fuck," I interrupted, "that fat fuck is just going to babble on about his great life in Atlanta, and how much money he makes.." "Eric," Mark interrupted back, "he's not fat anymore, I saw him at lunch he looks hot. Had to have lost like forty pounds, and believe it or not he seemed very humble at lunch." "Owen, humble, I'll believe it when I see it," I said as I walked back towards the showroom. "You'll see he's crashing at our house tonight, that's why I'm calling. If you wanted to go hang with your buds from work or something, tonight would be a good night. Owen is one of my best friends in the whole world, I want to enjoy my time with him." "I know Bubba," I said pondering what I could do for a distraction. "So you're cool with this right?" "Yeah, you two have fun," I said trying to, but not sounding very encouraging. "Love you," Mark said. "I love me too," I said and rang off. I pulled into the driveway and immediately my plan to not let Owen piss me off went right out the window, because his rental car was blocking the garage. I put the roof up, and locked up my car and headed for the front door. I opened the front door to hear peels of laughter coming from the great room. "Hey," I said as I entered from the hall. "Hey Bubba," Mark said getting up from the couch and coming over to me and kissing me on the lips, "you're home early?" I looked at my watch, "it's like nine o'clock." "Wow, that late," Mark said looking back at Owen, who was still sitting on the couch. "Hey Eric," Owen said standing up as Mark and I walked over to the couch. "Wow, Owen, you look fantastic," I said almost surprised that I meant it. Mark wasn't bullshitting me, he had to have lost more like fifty pounds. I guess his new trim weight at being one hundred fifty or so. He was about Mark's height, five foot nine inches. His face had thinned out nicely giving him a strong jaw line. "Thanks," Owen blushed extending his hand. I shook it, "How'd you do it so fast, we saw you over Thanksgiving last, right?" I looked to Mark for confirmation. "Yeah, but that was like," Owen paused, "seven months ago." "How'd you do it?" I asked. "Combination of Atkins, Beachbody workout, and this vapid hottie Brad Pitt clone at work," he said smiling. "Awesome," I smiled back. "You eat Bubba?" Mark asked from behind me. "Ah yeah, I had pub sandwich at club," I replied. "The club?" Owen asked. "Yeah, the Bart, bunch of guys went down there from work," I said. "The Saint Batholomew Club, it's a social club where all the car salesmen hang," Mark explained. "Cool," Owen said sitting back down, "Nice work on scoring Matilda for Marky, Eric." "Yeah it is a sweet ride isn't it?" I asked rhetorically. "I'm gonna go in the den and check my email before I crash." I turned to leave the room, "I'll be right back Owie," Mark said as he followed upstairs where I went to change. "Didn't I tell you he looked hot?" Mark asked when we got to the bedroom. "Yeah, he does," I admitted grudgingly. "Well, there's something I need your help with," Mark said as I was stripping out of my work clothes. "What's that?" I asked. I was sitting at my desk in the den, glancing over the headlines of the day on our local news channel's website. I sipped my scotch , while all the noise in my head started to clear. I heard some giggling in the hall and heard people on the stairs. I glanced at my watch and then returned my attention to the website. A few moments later, there was a knock at my door. I took a quick sip of my scotch, "Yes, come in." "Mr. Jurdahl," Owen said opening the door. I smiled, he was wearing a blue blazer with and emblem on the breast pocket, a white oxford shirt and red tie over charcoal trousers, finishing off the school uniform was a pair of highly shined black penny loafers. "What can I do for you Mr. McGeary?" I asked standing up and walking around my desk. His lip was quivering, and his eyes were darting around the room, "Here," he replied meekly handing me an envelope, and then added, "Sir." I took the envelope and opened it, I glanced over the folded note paper inside. I looked up and fixed him in the eye, "Is this true?" "Yes sir," Owen answered as a beads of sweat appeared on his brow, "but, I can explain." "Mr. White says here that he caught you cheating on a make up exam. This is very serious Owen. This is grounds for immediate suspension you know?" "Yes Sir, I um, um," Owen said looking down at his feet. There was a knock at the door, I looked over to see Mark standing in the doorway wearing a similar uniform. "Yes Mr. Charbonneau?" "Mr. White asked to come make sure that Owen was here," Mark said. "Very good," I said and paused for a moment lost in thought. "Mr. Charbonneau, you are a prefect, correct?" "Yes Sir," Mark replied. "And Mr. McGeary here is in your house?" "Yes Sir," Mark again replied. "Does Mr. McGeary currently have any points assessed against him?" I asked returning to my desk and picking up my scotch glass. "No Sir, nothing currently." "Really?" I asked. Then I turned to Owen, "Mr. McGeary apparently you have a fairly spotless record, so I am distressed that you would break the honor code by cheating?" "Sir, I was over my head," Owen replied meekly. "How so?" I demanded. "I'm out of my depth in physics Sir. And I need to pass physics in order to maintain my overall standing," Owen explained, still looking down at his shoes. "I see, physics can be tough, but I don't understand why you didn't ask for help," I said and then took the final sip of my scotch. "Well Sir, I ah, I ah don't know Sir, I was ashamed Sir," Owen replied keeping up his meek act. There was IM chime on my computer, that broke my concentration for a moment. I looked up at Owen, who was maintaining contrite stance. Then I glanced at Mark who was nodding towards the computer, and then holding up his cellphone. I walked over to the computer and looked at the screen to see a message from Mark. "Mr. McGeary, you were ashamed that you weren't understanding your physics class, how do you feel now that you've been caught cheating?" "I'm very ashamed sir," Owen said meekly. "What gave you the idea that you could get away with cheating on the exam Mr. McGeary?" I asked walking over and standing in front of Owen. "No one Sir," Owen said looking me in the eye and then looking over at Mark. "Now you are lying to me?" I asked harshly. "Mr. White just informed me that the answers on your crib sheet were identical to Mr. Charbonneau's answers on the exam he took yesterday, mistakes and all," I sneered and looked over at Mark. "Uh Sir," Mark stammered from where he was leaning against the doorway. I flushed with anger, "Get in here and stand next to Mr. McGeary here," I ordered. "Charbonneau here gave you the crib sheet didn't he?" I asked holding up Owen's chin so I was looking him right in the eye. "Yes Sir," he replied trying to avert his gaze. "Did you pay him for this?" "No Sir, I was trying to help out a friend," Mark pleaded. I turned my attention to Mark, "Do you help out friend's like that all the time?" "Yes Sir, I have on two other occasions," Mark said looking down at his shoes. I noticed that his face was had broken out in a slight smirk. "Why are you smirking boy?" I spat at him harshly. "Sorry Sir," Mark demurred. "You are both disgraces to this school, and those uniforms," I started, "in fact, you are both unworthy to wear those uniforms. Get them off now!" I ordered. Mark and Owen looked at each other. Owen stood there like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, but Mark shrugged and slipped off his blazer. Owen followed suite, slipping off the blazer than loosening his tie and removing it. I went back to my desk and grabbed my glass and went over to the wet bar and poured myself another finger of scotch. I looked up to see Mark and Owen standing in the middle of the room having only shed their blazers and ties. "I said get those uniforms off!" I bellowed. Owen seemed to shutter, but then started unbuttoning his shirt, Mark followed suit. Within a few minutes they were both standing in the middle of the room, Mark wearing a pair of gray boxers, and Owen a pair of blue boxer briefs. I walked over to the umbrella stand next to the door and withdrew a bamboo cane, "Do you boys know what this is?" "Yes Sir," they both replied in unison. I walked back to them and stood in front of them assessing their bodies. Beads of sweat were rolling down Owen's forehead as he stood there wearing only his boxer briefs and dress socks. He had his hands folded in front of him covering the very obvious lump in his briefs. I looked over at Mark, and he was standing there in a similar pose. "Hands behind your backs!" I ordered. Mark immediately complied, but Owen hesitated for a moment then complied. "What are these?" I said tapping the hard lump Owen was sporting, "You boys got some big swinging dicks there for cheating little schoolboys." Both Owen and Mark blushed. "Well if you're going to act like cheating schoolboys, then you are going to be treated like cheating schoolboys." I brought an occasion chair over and placed it in the middle of the room, near where the two nearly naked boys were standing. I finished off the last of my scotch and sat down on the chair, "You," I said pointing at Mark, "get over here." Mark tentatively walked over to me, I grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him across my lap. Once he was in position, I lowered the waistband of his boxers so that it rested at the top of his thighs, just below the newly exposed twin globes of flesh. I lightly ran my hand over them and watched the smooth skin break out in goose flesh. I raised my hand up and swung, the sound of my hand making forceful contact with the cheating schoolboys behind resonated throughout the den. Mark began to squirm, as I began to assault his reddening ass with a barrage of swats. I felt Marks engorged member rubbing through his boxers against my upper thigh. The feel of it made my own friend twitch in anticipation. I looked over at Owen who was watching what was happening to his partner in crime with a mixture of fear and longing. Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of the mirror across the hall from the door to the den. Mark draped across my lap, his ass in the air as his body expanded and contracted as Mark panted was such a hot image that I was paused for a few moments to take in the sight. "Get up," I ordered Mark, "go stand in the corner," I said pointing to the corner by the door. Mark went to pull up his boxers, "Loose those," I ordered. He smiled, kicked off the boxers and strutted to the corner, his reddened ass bobbing as he went. I turned to my attention to Owen, "get over here," I ordered. He came over and stood before me. I reached out and in one fluid movement yanked down his boxer briefs. His erect boycock bounced up and hit his newly flat belly, and then came to rest jutting straight out in front of him perpendicular to his body. I took his wrist and pulled him across my lap and began an equally intense barrage of swats on his sagging ass. Watching the slack skin jiggle as I spanked Owen quashed all the sexual urges that spanking Mark's ass had instilled in me. "Get up," I ordered. "Get over there," I said pointing to the opposite corner from where Mark was standing. "Well," I began as I walked over to my desk and retrieved some condoms and lube from the drawer. "The way I see it, you have both atoned for your digressions. Since it seems to me that Mr. McGeary wouldn't have cheated if it hadn't been suggested by Mr. Charbonneau. So the way I see it Mr. McGeary fucked you in that way, so it only seems fitting that you get to fuck Mr. Charbonneau." Mark turned around and stared at me for a moment, "But Sir!" "But nothing," I said going over and grabbing Mark by the wrist and pulling him toward the middle of the room. "Get down on your hands and knees," I ordered. "Here you go," I said tossing the condoms and lube to Owen, who had moved from his corner. Mark got down on his hands and knees pushing his perfect red ass up in the air. Owen knelt down behind Mark, while furiously pulling at his erection. It took no time for Owen to free a condom from its package, roll it on himself, lube Mark's ass and enter him. As Owen was pumping in and out of Mark's ass I slipped upstairs, grabbed one of Mark's Ambiens stripped down to my boxers, climbed into bed, swallowed the pill and willed myself to sleep. "Morning Mr. Jurdahl," Tammy our sales assistant said as I entered the office, "Mr. Hanson just called, he wants you to go over and see him." "Thanks Tam," I said grabbing my coffee and heading back out the door I'd just entered. I went outside and walked across the lot towards the main showroom. "Hey Eric," Tim the new car sales manager said as I entered the main showroom. "Hey Tim, what's going on?" I asked as I walked towards the stairs up to the offices. "Not a lot, just glad I'm not selling Suburbans anymore, did you see the price of gas this morning. Two fucking dollars and twelve cents," Tim said shaking his head. "That's whacked," I said as I climbed the stairs from the showroom two at a time. I walked down the small hall, and knocked on the door frame. "You wanted to see me Mr. Hanson?" "Yes Eric, come in," Mr. Hanson said standing up from his desk and walking around it to shake my hand. "Have a seat," he said pointing to one of his guest chairs, then he closed the door and walked back around his desk and sat down. "Eric, we have a couple of things to discuss today," Mr. Hanson began. "Ut oh," I thought to myself. "Let's see," he said pulling a manilla folder out of his out box, "Eric, first off Dave is going to be taking a leave of absence, he's been called up to go to Iraq. Today is going to be his last day with us, he doesn't leave until the end of next week, but I want him to have some time off before he goes," Mr. Hanson said in his slow and deliberate manner. "Since I need to hold his position open while he's gone, I'm going to promote you to the title of acting used car sales manager." "Wow, thank you Mr. Hanson," I said with a smile, "I don't know what to say." "Well, that's not all Eric. In talking with Dave, I was disappointed to hear about an episode a few months back," Mr. Hanson continued. "Back in February you flipped an old Volvo Wagon," he consulted some notes in front of him, "it seems that you took it in at well under book value, and then turned around and sold it the next day for the asking price. Is that correct?" "Uh, yes sir," I stammered, "Oh shit," I thought. "According to Dave, you two had a bet about your being able to sell and uh, shall we say bed, a particular customer. A Mr. Mark Charbonneau? "However," Mr. Hanson continued, "unknown to Dave you had a prior and ongoing relationship with Mr. Charbonneau, is this all correct." "Yes sir," I stammered again. "I'm very disappointed in you Eric," Mr. Hanson started, "I could care less about your sexuality, and if you wanted to wave your commissions in order to sell your young man a car, I would have gladly done that for you. But the fact that you used subterfuge to do it, I find very disappointing. "Now, this is a written warning," he said waving a letter, "and I gave one to Dave as well. If I ever hear of any more of these bets, or any salesperson making sexual advances on a customer, I will terminate that person on the spot!" "Mr. Hanson?" I asked. "I'm not finished Eric," Mr. Hanson continued. "It sickens me to think that this probably wasn't the first time that such a thing happened. Dave assured me that it had never happened before, and that he was shocked that you did it. But I find Dave's assertions suspect. I also suspect that you and your, uh, boyfriend were just how shall I put it, jerking Dave around." "Mr. Hanson," I interrupted, "I uh, uh," I was lost for a second having not been listening and wanting to make a point that Mr. Hanson had just made. "Mark and I were jerking Dave around. Also, at the time, I was fairly insecure about my sexuality, and didn't want to, quote, come out at work," I stumbled mid thought. "I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, except that I'm very sorry about this incident, and to my direct knowledge, no one here has ever made and won a bet like we're talking about, although I have heard stories." "I suspect, and honestly hope that those stories are merely fishing stories if you will?" Mr. Hanson continued. "Eric, have you ever met my grandson Thor?" "Yes sir, when he was working here last summer," I answered. "Well, my grandson is gay, and confided to me last summer that he had a crush on you. In fact it was because of that crush, that he found another job, because he was sure you were straight, and was heartbroken to be around you. Then apparently he saw you at a gay bar, and was very excited until he discovered that you had a boyfriend. "My grandson is still quite young and very dramatic, but the reason I'm telling you all this is, I have been aware of your sexuality, and Mr. Charbonneau since last November." Mr. Hanson smiled, "I of course didn't mention any of this to Dave, so Dave still thinks that you meet Mr. Charbonneau when you sold him that Volvo in February." I laughed, "Thank you Mr. Hanson. Geez, I had no idea about Thor having a crush on me, but that explains why I always got my cars detailed before Dave last summer." Mr. Hanson laughed, "Eric, I'm glad we've cleared the air. I think that you are going to make and excellent acting used car sales manager." "Thank you sir," I said as we both stood up and shook hands.