Date: Sat, 12 Apr 2014 09:25:01 -0700 (PDT)
From: Dave Ledge <mikedave01@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mr. Lemire and Me 2

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mikedave01@yahoo.com.  Huge thanks to the readers who have written saying
how much they enjoyed the first chapter!

Mr. Lemire and Me, Part 2

From Part One: "As we were driving in his beautiful car toward my suburban
office, the talk remained generic.  Again I was very puzzled.  Finally,
when we approached my office he turned to me and said, "Steven, why don't
we make this a regular event?  Why don't we swim and have lunch on Mondays?
I can help you with your technique.  You can add swimming to your workout
routine and we can review how the project is going since I'm sure your firm
will get the business."

If anything I was even more confused.  However, business is business.  This
was a deal I couldn't refuse.  And the idea of this beautiful man giving me
lessons, nearly naked, made my cock start to go hard.  As to what he was
looking for in me, well I guess I would have to be patient and let him let
me know whenever he was ready."

Well, I was glad I was a patient person.  He and I did start meeting to
swim and have lunch together on Mondays.  I managed to keep my cock down as
I was still not sure of his intentions towards me.  He had insisted I keep
all four of the Speedos he had picked out for me.  I decided to wear a
different one each Monday, trying to gauge his reaction to them and to me.
The second time I met him I wore the dark blue one, since he had worn that
color the first time.  This time he wore black.  Hmm.  Again I didn't look
at his naked body when changing clothes a distance apart in the luxurious
locker room.  I don't know if he looked at mine or not, since I wasn't
looking his way.  Once in the lap pool, he started to give me lessons.  I
was pretty intent on learning from him, but it was hard not to be
distracted by his gorgeous nearly naked body, dripping with water, his hard
nipples sticking out from his hairy chest and his slightly bulging crotch
damp from pool water.  The worst part was when he touched me, demonstrating
how I should move my arms and legs. The worst of the worst was when he held
my arms and moved them, with his chest occasionally touching my bare back
and his crotch my butt.  I did plump a bit then!  I'm not made of ice.
However, he remained very professional during my lessons, even I did think
he touched me more often than he needed to!  But who was complaining?
Surely, not me!

Our meals remained extremely good, too.  The chef tried out new creations
on us.  Some were more successful than others, but all were very, very,
good as my taste in food was becoming more sophisticated.  I soon was able
to anticipate Mr. Lemire's analysis of the meals.  Mr. Lemire also decided
to teach me more about wine.  We explored a particular grape and region
during each meal.  He was quite good at broadening my palette this way,
too.

By the end of the month, while I was enjoying my Mondays with Mr. Lemire, I
was also becoming impatient.  While part of me didn't mind feeling like I
was some kind of an experiment in a "Pygmalion" or "My Fair Lady" kind of
way and while part of me appreciated his attention and was enjoying
learning more and getting into even better physical shape, part of me felt
that having to be taught like this meant I wasn't quite good enough for
Mr. Lemire and that I was more of a protŽgŽ than an equal.  The
masculine part of me was getting a little bit bruised.  Mr. Lemire was
always the leader, always set the agenda for our time together, and paid
for everything, although, as he said, I was a business expense.  I knew
that was true. However, I wanted to do something to make our relationship
more equal.  While I was racking my head about what that could be (I mean
what do you give the man who already has everything?) Mr. Lemire surprised
me at lunch that Monday.

"Steven", he said, "I really do have a fairly tight schedule and will for a
while.  Even meeting you like this is not always easy to schedule.  I was
thinking, would you like the combination to the Company's workout room and
pool so that you could use it other times than Mondays?"  Well, here I was
thinking of a way to pay back Mr. Lemire when he gives me something else!
Well, I wasn't going to be churlish and refuse his generosity, on
principle.

I began to go to the country club regularly and work out and swim
regularly, too.  I'd often go in the evenings, since Lord knows, I had free
time then.  I wasn't seeing anybody, I'm not a big fan of clubs, and don't
have that many single friends to go to movies or concerts with either.
After about another month, including one memorable Monday when Mr. Lemire
and I had both chosen to wear white Speedos (yum, this time I did go
partially hard as I finally go to see his beautiful butt framed by the wet
trunks as well as the rest of him!  And it didn't seem he minded looking at
my semi either!) I had just finished working out, swimming, and showering
when I got a glimpse of my naked body in one of the full length mirrors in
the locker room.  I had long ago stopped being modest in the Company's
private area.  I had never seen anyone else here.  It was always just me,
alone.  I wandered around naked usually and sometimes even swam naked, just
because I could.  I loved the feeling of being totally naked in the water
and feeling my muscles powering through the clear water.  Anyway, as I
looked into the mirror I saw someone different than I was expecting.  Yes,
it was still me, but I looked different.  I somehow looked sleeker and
trimmer.  I was still the blond hairless 5'10 guy but my hair was blonder
and my skin was smoother.  I was a little more built up, too.  The good
food on Mondays had moved me to improve my diet the rest of the week.  I
had done more with weights recently, too.  Wow, even my pink nipples looked
bigger as they went hard.  My self-admiration made my neglected cock go
hard, too, all the way up to its seven-inch erection.  At least that looked
the same!  I automatically started masturbating myself as I realized I was
now much hotter than I had been before meeting Mr. Lemire.  Mistake
thinking about him!  I visualized him totally naked with a big cock
matching the rest of his tall, hairy, masculine beauty. I envisioned him
holding my arms and hands like he often did teaching me better swimming
form, but this time naked with his hard cock touching my naked "boy" butt.
Oh my God!  I ran back into the showers, just in time, as I exploded all
over!  I yelled out my orgasm as I came hard enough to hit the wall of the
shower room!  Augghhhhh!  Damn, that was the most intense orgasm I had had
in quite a while!

I turned on the shower to clean up my mess and was glad it became a
handheld shower so that it was easier to clean up.  Well, that scene proved
that I was seriously infatuated with Mr. Lemire.  If just imagining him
naked against me made me cum, what would reality do to me?  I tingled
imagining it and then had to laugh at myself.  But this whole scene made me
realize that I was tired of waiting.  And if I did ruin what had already
become a good relationship, so be it!  But I was going to push the
envelope.

Before the next Monday get-together I got Rogers (the manager of the
country club) aside one day.  After explaining what I wanted, he took me
into the big, spotless, kitchen and introduced me to the head chef.  He
also nodded his approval and looked at me with interest after I explained.
Excellent, I thought.  Mr. Lemire will be getting his first surprise on
Monday!

I called Mr. Lemire at work on Monday and told him that I would only have
time for lunch today and not for a swim and that I would meet him at lunch.
Well, that was an untruth.  I just hoped to be forgiven for it!  I arrived
at the club when I knew Mr. Lemire would be in the pool. I wanted to be
sure that I was there before him. He was surprised to see me when he walked
into the Company's private dining room at the country club, but gave me the
smile that lights up a room when he shook my hand, and, as always, holding
it for just a bit too long.  I smiled back at him, enjoying his touch, even
just the touch of his hand on mine.  I had a minute's worth of doubt about
what I was going to do, but then decided I had to do it.

"GŽrald", I said, deliberately using his first name for the first time
and pronouncing it with a French accent, "I have a bit of surprise for you
today.  You have been so great in sharing your knowledge of cuisine and
wine with me, as well as teaching me how to swim correctly."  He
acknowledged this with a smile and a nod of his handsome head.  "I'd like
to share a bit of my knowledge with you, too."  He raised his dark eyebrows
at that but nodded at me to continue.  "I've noticed" I continued "that you
have been focusing on European cuisine and wine in our lunches.  I spent a
month in Chile not too long ago and got to know that beautiful country and
its people.  I've talked with the chef here, and together, the two of us
have come up with a full Chilean meal accompanied by Chilean wine for you."

He smiled at me again and his eyes gleamed with a new respect for me.  Or
at least that's how I saw his expression.

We began with a small glass of a very good Pisco sour as we toasted each
other's health.  We followed that with empenadas fritas de queso for an
appetizer.  We had an ensalada chilena with just enough pebre to give
deeper flavor and more complexity and changed to a glass of a lovely
Chilean sauvignon blanc.  Mr. Lemire remarked that this wine was good
enough to rival New Zealand Marlborough even.  I nodded my head in pleasure
and agreement at his compliment.  For the main course we had a pastel de
choclo accompanied by a very deep red Malbec that rivaled anything
Argentina could produce.  And for dessert, a bit of manjar and a small
glass of GewŸrztraminer.

I could tell Mr. Lemire was quite impressed.  I had entertained him during
the meal, telling anecdotes from my time in Chile as well as explaining
where I had had some of the dishes we were trying and describing the beauty
of the country.  I made him laugh when I told him that Chilean Spanish was
like "Cuban gone bad" and had to explain how they drop all "s" there and
many final syllables.  He was interested in the German influence on the
country's food and wine, as evidenced by the final wine selection, too.  At
the conclusion of the meal he thanked me for sharing my knowledge with him
and introducing him to a new cuisine.  When we stood to leave and shook
hands again, I saw him start to give me a hug before catching himself.
Impulsively I grabbed him instead and gave him a strong hug.  He went rigid
for a second, before relaxing and returning the hug.  Damn, did he feel
fine, even with us both in suits and ties.  I decided to apologize, "I'm
sorry, GŽrald, I guess it's the Latin food coming out in me!" and I
chuckled.  "Well, Steven", he replied, "don't forget that I am Latin!"  We
held each other just a bit too long for Americans, just as our handshakes
had been too long.  My cock started to get hard as we released each other.
I so wanted to search his eyes then for what was there, but chickened out.
"Festina lente" as the Roman emperor Augustus had said, "Make haste
slowly".

As I drove back to the office I knew something had happened in that hug.  A
step had been taken.  Well, next Monday I would give Mr. Lemire his second
surprise.