Date: Fri, 3 Jan 2003 04:06:38 -0800 (PST)
From: Robin Reed <any_mouse2003@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Peter Principle, Part One

Copyright 2002 by any_mouse2003.  All rights reserved.

If graphic depictions of sexual acts between concenting adults is illegal
in your jurisdiction, or if you are under the age of 18, please stop
reading now.

This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific
person or persons.  Any similarity to actual persons or events is entirely
coincidental.  This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be
reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the
author.  It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their
submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site
without the written permission of the author.

PLEASE: In a perfect world AIDS doesn't exist.  My characters try to deal
with the issue of unprotected sex but are human.  I hope you use proper
precautions.


The Peter Principle

Ads are easier, but they don't work when you want them to. I had thought
about placing an ad in the Blade, the local gay paper. It had worked for me
before. Not the Blade, actually, it was one of the sleazy little fuck books
that exist for guys to get together without having to go to a bar and
actually see all those hungry eyes face-to-face. It is easier from the
comfort and privacy of home, or over the phone. Scrolling through the
possibilities. And it is easier to place an ad than it is to answer one.
Placing one means that the hungry ones have to come to you. It is much
easier, if you craft it right. It works, even for the faint of heart. I
know. That is how I met Rick, my on-again, off-again lover. But for now it
was off. He had moved to Rehobeth with his old on-again, off-again lover
and I was high and dry.

But I didn't have an ad running and I was horny a couple weeks ago, just
like I am now. I had moved out of my house and was free to do what I wanted
to do when I wanted to do it. I decided to go to DC from Maryland on a lazy
Sunday afternoon, have a couple beers and survey the newly-opened
landscape. The need of a man is a heavy longing, sometime. It has always
been with me, sometimes near, and sometimes at a distance. But it has
always been there. I suppose that my marriage and the amount of time I
spent on the career kept me safe. That, and my timidity probably saved my
life. It spanned the time when the AIDS plague first erupted, and then
spread, killing a whole generation of young men in their prime.

I was on the sidelines then, jerking off. But I often thought about it.
Both the death part and the joy of submitting to a fundamental need that
sometimes was so powerful it drove me to the streets. To look, but not to
act. The Internet was a godsend, but it only served to fan the flames.

This afternoon I dressed carefully. Tight jeans, moccasins, nice soft
turtleneck. An old Levi jacket to go over the top. I practiced The Walk.
Not a sashay, but one free of straight-ahead male determination. A little
whimsical. I even let my wrists flop a little when I smoked. It was fun. It
felt nice and liberating to let the hard linear lines fade out of my
posture. Soften. But I wasn't going to go out and mince around. I usually
go places and chicken out at the last moment. But maybe this would be
different. I always thought that. I checked myself, I looked good, and
drove down to the Metro station.

I didn't want to drive into the city. You can't tell where to park. The
traffic is madness. And if you wind up a little drunk and in trouble, you
could lose the car altogether. So the Metro is the way to go. You are on
foot, anonymous. No threat to public order at the wheel of potential
vehicular manslaughter. I had to take the Yellow Line to get across the
Potomac, but that wasn't going to get me where I wanted to go. I was headed
for Dupont Circle, heart of gay life in the District. To do that I had to
transfer to the Red Line at Metro Center. I was preparing to get off the
train I was standing, facing the rear of the car, leaning against a pole. I
realized with a start that the dark-haired young man facing the rear of the
car was someone I knew.

In fact, I knew him better than he had any idea. I had been a member of the
promotion panel that had decided he didn't have a future with the Company.
I had fought for him, fought as hard as I could. But I found where I was in
the hierarchy of the Company. In the end it came down to him and another.
The other guy had a more powerful patron. The panel deliberated hard and
picked the other.

To my growing horror I realized that senior management was going to work
its way with me. I was not only the one who couldn't save him, I was going
to have to be the one who told him, since he worked in my Division. It was
awful, as awful as anything I have ever done. But I wrapped myself in the
cloak of the Company and I told it as straight as I could, cushioning where
I could. But I told him it was honest, the decision was based on the record
of annual evaluations, and he had just got a bad break. It still didn't go
well. He was bitterly disappointed, and he left the office that day, saying
"Fuck the two weeks, and fuck you."

This afternoon he sat in the first row of seats. His slim body was slumped
back in the seat, his eyes were closed in contemplation. His youthful
features were relaxed, distant. His dark hair was short and combed to the
side. He wore a dark windbreaker and dark trousers. I wondered where he was
going. And the thought occurred to me that he might be going to Dupont
Circle on an outing like mine.

The loudspeaker announced: "Metro Center, transfer point for the Red
Line. Doors opening on the left."

I turned to face the front of the car, hoping he would not recognize me.
The train glided to a halt and the doors whooshed open. I paused with the
intent of allowing the other passengers to clear the car onto the platform.

It was not to be. I could not wait long, or stay to the next station
without heading too far toward Union Station. When I turned to exit I
discovered he had hung back. His brown eyes met mine directly.

"Hello, Eddie" I said. I offered my hand to him as we stepped from the car
and walked across the decorative granite paving of the platform. His hand
was soft but his grip was firm.

"Hi, Rob!" he responded. He did not seem to recall the anger he felt the
last time I saw him. In fact, he seemed almost pleased to see me. "What are
you doing this afternoon?"

I answered vaguely. "Just headed Uptown, maybe the Zoo." The Red Line
platform was a level above us, and I can never remember which escalator to
take to hit the Northbound track. "Lovely afternoon for i." He said. I
didn't ask where he was going. The moment hung, gently, and he gave a
little wave and moved down the platform. I went the other way, studied the
track information on a pillar and realized I had to turn around and follow
him. The platform was dotted with day-trippers, locals and tourists, but
despite the beauty of the day on the surface above the crowds reflected the
general unease about life after 9-11. I flowed along behind a family with a
stroller and gave them space as they lifted the child out of the seat to
accommodate the moving stairs.

I turned the corner to the Northbound platform, glancing up to see if Eddie
was waiting there. He wasn't, and I found a place along the concrete
barrier to lean and look up at the graceful barrel vault of the station's
roof. The concrete was cool and gray. I have always loved the spare
geometric pattern that unifies the architecture of the system. There was a
moderate crowd, indicating a train would be along shortly.

Eddie hurried along the platform in front of me. This time he only glanced
up, moving quickly, as though he had an important destination further along
the waiting area. I was relieved. I was not out at the office and was not
interested in sharing my private life with the company. I was glad not to
have to make small talk, or pretend I was not going where I was. It was
apparent that he felt the same way. An interesting data point. Still, I
resolved to go one stop beyond the circle, to the Zoo, and walk back. Enjoy
the sunshine I said to myself, actually just wanted to not share my
intentions with someone who knew who I was. I was not ready to acknowledge
publicly my private self.

Privately I had worked it out. There were no contradictions. I liked sex.
And there was heaviness in my loins that only could be satisfied by the
touch of a man.

And what exactly were my intentions today? I mulled that one as the lights
on the platform edge began to pulse and the northbound train arrived. It
was to find the happy hour prices at some gay clubs and watch some
football. See what developed. I was not here to find sex, through the
heaviness in my loins indicated that I could. To meet someone? Perhaps,
though I told myself I was not in the market for anonymous sex. I was still
basically a monogamous creature, but I was also well aware of my
predilection to be a tramp. Two stops and we passed Dupont. I didn't see
Eddie get off, though he could have. I rose at the Zoo stop and walked out
of the station into the brilliant Fall light. There were still leaves on
the trees, and the light was lowering. As I crossed the bridge over Rock
Creek Park I paused to drink in the beauty of the foliage, this strange
intrusion of the wild into the city. I walked down Connecticut Avenue and
cut over at 18th Street past the cute little row houses. Some of the clubs
I thought I might try were located there.

I passed the Club Chaos, down in the basement, where the Sunday feature is
a drag show of grotesque female impersonators. I met someone nice there
once, a quiet-spoken African American with an astonishing penis, but I was
not up to the glare today. I was looking for something more sedate,
something closer to myself. I wound up in a quiet cafe, drinking Rolling
Rock beer and listening to a handsome young man who was drinking whiskey
and smoking cigarettes. He was very drunk, considering the hour, and very
garrulous. It was a pleasant way to pass the time. I contemplated what it
would be like to make love with him, but it was clear that he was a lost
soul, trouble on two legs. At length I tired of having the same discussion
over and over, unable to finish a thread of conversation, or looping back
around to the beginning of one again. Finally I left him to his whiskey and
made my way to the Metro station, intending to head home on an empty train
before the night fell. I was tired and the beers I had drunk just made me
edgier.

The feeling in the pit of my stomach had not abated and I knew I was going
to have to masturbate that night. I would lie in the darkness of my bed,
alone, and caress myself, gradually stroking harder, an image of a slim
young man before my closed eyes. I would rise to completion, the skin of my
member slick with the first juice and then climax, sowing my seed across my
belly. I would run a finger through the pool and bring it to my lips,
tasting my pearly deposit, stringy and sweet and imagined it was someone
else's. I would rub it into my skin until it became sticky, lying
languorous before the sleep came, feeling sated but empty at the prospect
of sleeping alone.

I walked to the south Metro entrance on Connecticut Avenue in the lowering
rays of the sun, the shadows now dark and elongated. I stood on the long
moving staircase to take me down to the tracks. There was a crowd on the
upward escalator, which meant I had missed a train. At this hour on a
weekend the trains only came every ten minutes or so, so there was no
hurry. The encounter with Eddie coming to the City intrigued me. Was he on
the same sort of mission as I was? Was he gay, too? The thought of his dark
eyes made me stiffen. What were his thoughts of me? The thought of pressing
myself against his slim body, the fine dark hairs covering his pale skin
brought me into a reverie on the moving stairs. I discreetly reached down
to smooth my growing erection into the right leg of my jeans. I got to the
turnstile and fed in my ticket. It processed it and I peered up in the cool
dim light to see which side of the platform would take me south. It was the
escalator to the right, and I tucked the ticket back in my wallet as I
walked slowly toward it. There was no rush and looking down on the platform
I could see only a few figures waiting. No rush to get there. Except for
one thing.

There was a slim figure in a dark windbreaker waiting alone. It was Eddie.
I panicked briefly. There was no doubt he would notice me, and there was no
way to pretend I was not exactly where I was. It was a short escalator, and
my decision was made for me. I walked off the end and walked straight
toward him.

"Hello again, Eddie. Small world."

"Yes it is, Rob. How was the Zoo?"

"Not bad. I didn't go in. I walked back down Connecticut, over the Rock
Creek Park. It was beautiful. And it is downhill all the way." I trailed
off, having said too much. He smiled at me. "What about you, did you get
what you were looking for?"

"No" he said, smiling, "Just looking around. Are you headed back to
Maryland?"

"Yeah. I left my car at Silver Springs, in the garage." He smiled again.

"That's funny. That is where I am living now. I got an efficiency in one of
the towers after I had to leave the Firm. Downsized, you know? Do you
remember."

I winced. I had hoped after our earlier encounter that he was not still
dwelling on that. But it was pretty clear that he was. I didn't want to go
back over that ground, but it was something to talk about that avoided why
we both were there. "I am so sorry about that. I hated to have to be the
one to tell you. It was very hard."

"Not as hard as finding out that I wasn't worth keeping on the payroll" he
said. "I really held a grudge for a while. In fact, I took it personally
that it was you that told me. I thought you were a friend."

I was flustered. I didn't know he thought about me that way, or knew that I
had sometimes found myself gazing at him as he walked through the cubical
farm where we worked. I wondered what he would have thought if he knew I
had a crush on him then? "I could have been a friend, Eddie. And I still
can be." I said hopefully. He looked at me sideways and I noticed how his
thick lashes curled up from his dark eyes. He looked at me for a moment and
smiled.

"OK. I know now that it was all for the best. I am going back to law school
and fully intend to sue those bastards you work for before it is all over.
I am going to be their worst nightmare." I shivered a little, not wanting
to be part of a corporate vendetta. He smiled again. "Don't worry. I won't
be coming after you. At least not that way." I wondered exactly what he
meant by that, and then the circular lights began to flash on the
platform's edge, signaling that a train was entering the station. We turned
to watch the train glide to a stop with the nearest doors precisely
equidistant from where we were standing. He moved first, to his right and I
followed him. It was funny. He was younger by almost a decade, but he had a
commanding way about him. Maybe that is what got him in trouble at the
company, too assertive with management.

The car was nearly empty and he casually slumped into the first pair of
seats facing backward. I could have sat in the parallel seat by the door
but I didn't. I sat down next to him. He looked at me confidently and I had
to look down at my lap. We talked about the people still at the company,
the ones he liked and the ones he did not. Eddie had some strong opinions
about the Division VP, who was clearly on his way up, and we bantered back
and forth about office politics.

"You are never going to get there, Rob. You are at your Peter Principle.
You have risen one layer higher than you actually should be." I bristled at
that and he smiled. "Calm down, take it easy. I just meant that you are a
sensitive guy, a great financial analyst. You weren't cut out to be a
middle-manager. I knew that when I saw how bad you felt about telling me I
was canned."

I knew he had a point, and sighed. "I think you are right. I am more
comfortable when I'm told what is expected of me and then I can just go
ahead and get the job done. I really don't like having to tell people what
to do." I looked out the window at the darkness of the tunnel.

"I thought so. We actually could have been a great team, in the right
combination. Let me do the managing and let you do the creative stuff." We
came into a station and a couple teenagers got on. They walked by us and I
suddenly was aware of how my leg felt touching his. I don't know if he felt
what I felt, the electricity. He just kept up a steady banter, leaving the
office behind and moving on to the Redskins and politicians, both of which
we agreed on. They sucked. We laughed and I chattered away, a little
giddy. We changed trains and the time passed quickly as we pulled into the
station at Silver Springs. We got off the train and walked up the platform
to the escalator out. Past the turnstile I fished my car keys out of my
pocket and jingled them in my hand. I was hoping he might ask me up to his
place for a drink, see if this was going somewhere or if this was just a
figment of my imagination. I was afraid to offend him and if I was wrong,
he would have something else to use in his eventual contest with the
company.

"Where is your car?" he asked.

"Level 4 in the structure. Can I give you a lift home?"

"No, that's OK. I'm pretty close and there is somebody there. But I'll walk
you to the car." I blinked, wondering if he had a girlfriend living with
him. I had been wrong, and was both pleased and disconcerted that I had not
compromised myself. This was just buddy stuff. I was happy he would be with
me a little while longer, and I could think of him and masturbate when I
got home. We left the station and took the elevator up to the fourth level
of the parking structure. It was Sunday-empty and my car looked forlorn
parked by a pillar.

"Well," I said, "Thanks for the great Metro ride. I enjoyed talking to
you. Really."

"That's OK, it was good to catch up. I need to let that part of my career
go. It was for the best." He paused, then he said "There is something you
could do for me, though."

"Anything. Pleased to help anyway I can." I wondered if he wanted a
recommendation, or an endorsement of some kind. Something to make up for
what I had done to him on behalf of the Firm.

"Good. Why don't you get in the car..." I looked at him and he was smiling
an innocent sort of smile. I clicked the automatic opener on my key chain
twice and the light came on inside and the door locks popped up. I walked
to the driver's side of my Lexus and he walked around to the passenger's
side and opened the door. I opened the door and slid in. I looked over at
him expectantly.

"Well, do you want a ride after all?"

"No" he said. "I want you to do what you went downtown to do."

"What do you mean, Eddie?"

"I want you to suck my cock."

The silence was thick and my heart was hammering. I guess I'm not as slick
as I think I am sometimes. Eddie had me cold. "OK" I said.

"Don't be so enthusiastic. I knew you wouldn't do anything if I didn't tell
you to do it. That is why you will never be a VP. Peter principle. So let's
get to what I think you are good at. Servicing Peter. Why don't you unzip
me?" I looked around the deserted parking garage and swallowed. It was a
public place. I felt suddenly vulnerable and yet I wanted to make him happy
and I wanted him badly.

"OK" I said again. I leaned over the console and reached for his belt. I
pulled the tongue out of the restraining loop and unbuckled it. He moved
his hips to accommodate me as I unbuttoned the top of his slacks. The sound
the zipper made as I ran it down seemed deafening, and I drank in the aroma
of him. I could see he was wearing colored briefs and the outline of his
shaft was straining at the fabric. There was a dark spot near the tip where
he had begun his process and I was pleased to see that he was aroused and
wanted me. I wasn't completely comfortable in this position. I have had sex
in public before but it made me nervous. The risk of compromise could
really screw me up at the office. But Eddie's smell was rich, almost
intoxicating. Maybe I could get him off quickly. I kissed the fabric of his
briefs, teasing the tip beneath.

Eddie breathed a sigh. "good start, Rob. Now get me out of these so you can
work." He squirmed his hips and I pulled the top of his slacks down so I
could get at the waistband of his briefs. I did not believe the size of his
flagpole as it emerged. It was far more than I could take without a lot of
work. From bas to tip it must have been fully eight inches, but very fat,
tapering to the end. The tip was approachable, smaller than the bulk of the
shaft. His smell was pungeant, cologne and sweat and musk. I licked the
tip, pleased that there was already slimy pre-cum in the slit. Then I
opened my lips and let the tip slip in, moistening it with my saliva until
he filled my mouth.

He leaned back as I surrendered to him, letting himself fill the warm
cavern of my mouth. I got halfway down the shaft when he filled me
completely. I worked my tongue around the bottom of the glans. God me was
enormous! I slurped back up and then licked down the side to the base to
get it all wet and slippery. His cock straining upward as I tongued the
base of it. Pre-cum oozed from the slit in the helmet and I ran her tongue,
teasing, up his shaft and licked it, lingering in the slit before slurping
my way down again. I marveled at the richness of the taste, of the slimy
consistency and the delicious feeling of release in submitting to his
desire. I loved having him having him on my lips and palate.

"Oh, yeah, Rob" he said. His hips quivered. I responded by opening my mouth
and sucking one of his balls into my mouth. I nursed on it, the smooth
testicle within sliding easily under the course hair of his sack on the
surface. "Oh, God" he moaned and I sucked hard and took them both, rolling
my tongue on the skin, both the orbs imprisoned in my soft moist warmth, my
teeth teasing...against the core of his being...."Ohhhh...that's good, Rob"
he said, moaning. Then I heard something, the squeal of tires on the
concrete. I flinched, trying to rise from his balls to see. Eddie's hands
came down on the back of my head and he rammed his cock into my mouth as
far as he could. I thought I was going to strangle on it, my airway nearly
blocked. I began to panic but his arms were strong and his hands
insistent. He left one hand on the back of my head pressing hard..

"Hush," he said, "Security. Stay down." His breath was a little ragged. I
could not look up at him, my head pinioned on his cock, my mouth and throat
completely filled. I heard the window come down and the sound of an engine
idling.

"Evening, Officer. Just waiting for my girlfriend to get off work at the
department store. She should be coming along pretty soon." I thought I
would going to choke. I couldn't breath. There was the sound of a voice,
something inaudible, and then Eddie raised the window. "Nice guy. He told
me to have a nice day. I think I'm going to." His hands then began to
stroke my hair and he freed my head. I drew a ragged breath around the mass
of his penis and I took my mouth off him to speak. His hands pressed down
again.

"I didn't ask you to talk, Rob, the cops are gone and you need to get back
to doing what you were doing." I began to shake and I began to lick again.
His pre-cum was running freely now, the head so well lubricated that it
glided like a piston over my palate. He began to thrust with his hips to
meet my mouth and we got a rhythm going that made me not have to work, just
receive his bucking cock. He was breathing hard. "Yes, Rob, yes, suck it,
Rob suck me..."

Then he erupted in my mouth and his hands pressed down. I followed his
command and swallowed him as deep as I could as he jetted into me. The come
was salty and warm and slimy and rich although I tried to maintain suction
around his shaft, his jism ran from the corners of my mouth and down his
proud shaft.

"I'm real sensitive now, Rob. Just hold me right there. I swallowed his
warm seed and wanted to suck his shaft dry. But I did what he wanted,
marveling in the taste of him and the acrid richness of it. I noticed now
how hard I was, my cock straining at my jeans. Then he began to stroke my
hair again. "Now you can clean me up, honey."

I happily licked his softening monster from tip to shaft, licking his balls
and lapping every bit of fluid from him. When I was done, he pushed me away
and hiked up his briefs and his slacks, squirming to get the button to
close and buckling his belt. "You need to get home and take care of that
erection, Rob. You can drop me down the block from my building." I started
the car, dazed. I licked his come from my lips, the taste lingering. I
looked over at him, his dark eyes studying me, a sly smile on his lips. As
we came down the ramp we passed the security vehicle and Eddie gave it a
negligent wave.

His building was only a couple blocks away, and he did not kiss me as he
got out, but he smiled and told me he would enjoy seeing me again. He
walked away from the car and did not look back. I drove slowly off in the
general direction of home, thinking about him and tasting him still. I
smoked a cigarette and it tasked like his come. I thought about what he
said about my job and the Peter Principle. I suppose I had got about as far
as I was going to go, professionally. But that didn't seem to matter
much. I threw the cigarette out the window and licked my lips again.

He called me honey.