The following story is fiction about two men seeking release from a grueling work week.  The story contains a scene of a paddling and gay sex.  If these subjects are offensive, uninteresting or if you are a minor (i.e., child) please leave now.  I hope that you are smarter than my characters and take proper care to prevent STD's.

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Solving the Week's Final Problem
Week 1: Getting Off


I was itchy.  I was very antsy.  It had been a long hard week where the foreman had blamed me for the faults of the world.  I needed to get that itch scratched.  Right after work I ate a good meal near the shop for if things went well, I might not have breakfast until the afternoon.  I went home and got into bed for a nap.

At ten, the alarm woke me.  I got ready – showered, shaved, brushed and all that.  Then into the tight black t-shirt, the tight black 501's with the heavy, black Garrison belt and black engineer boots.  One piece of ID, my door key snapped onto a belt loop, Metrocard and some cash were that I would need.  I took the subway to the district and I was there well before midnight.  I was on high alert looking for the right connection as I sipped my brew from the longneck in The Place.  The Place was filling up rapidly.  I sensed that if I didn't connect within the hour, I might as well go back home alone and just jerk off.

There were, of course, a lot of familiar faces and bodies.  As always, a few tourists who seemed to be shacking with fear of the unknown.  None of them would do.  A few college boys, too.  Not my first choice but they always had the vigor and enthusiasms of youth and tight trim bodies.  A couple of them had been eyeing me and, if nothing better showed, in an hour I would take one home making him sorry he hadn't stayed in the dorm studying.

There was one stranger.  I mean 'stranger' like in a Hollywood western.  One stranger who had gotten here before I had and before the dress code was enforced as he was in a fancy, three piece suit with dress shoes.  He was sipping at a real drink and when the barman gave another to the  waiter to serve him I heard that it was top shelf price.  He was at least twice my age but concealed under that suit was a good body – with broad shoulders and slim waist – from the way it fit.

He was a cool character.  He looked like he was just having a drink but I was certain that he was hunting.  I had to turn away a few times when he caught me staring.  My thoughts were interrupted by the bartender.  "The gentleman invites you to join him for a drink." he said.  "Just take the seat next to him and I'll send over your drink.  Scotch, I believe, Sir."  I nodded and walked over.

We exchanged names, I sat, the waiter brought the drink.  "Thank you." I said lifting the glass to him.  We exchanged bar small talk for a bit and then he stopped and stared at me.

"You're hungry tonight.  I can tell.  You are very hungry indeed."  I nodded.  "I am also.  It has been a tough week and I need release just as I believe you do."

I doubted that he knew how much I need release.  I had been yelled at all week.  I definitely needed release.  He invited to leave with him.  He said he knew what I was into when I hesitated.  A few minutes later I did, grabbing a few condoms from the bowl on the bar.  His car was waiting a discreet distance down the block.  The chauffeur hopped out and opened the door as we approached.  We drove into an apartment house garage and took the elevator up.  The driver stayed with the car.  He opened the apartment door and we entered.  He told me where the john was, added that he wanted to change and to please wait in a particular room until he knocked.

I drained and then went to the room.  It was setup as a high school coach's office.  There was a paddle and a couple of condoms on the otherwise bare desk.  I read the list of rules on the wall for team members which even specified punishments in pops.  I couldn't help myself for I immediately imagined one of the twinks from the bar with his pants down and bent over for me and my ass-roasting paddle.  The boy was gripping the sides of the desktop as he bent over it with his bare ass sticking up, obediently, to pay for one of his many transgressions.  I hit my palm with the paddle as I imagined swinging it at the proffered butt.  My trouser snake was hard in my tight jeans at just the thought that after the paddling I would fuck his red-hot tail – hard and long.

I tried to get back to reality.  I was waiting in the coach's office and I was going to get it.  That too would be good and hot for I am a switch.  It would go along with my lousy week – getting paddled and then getting fucked by the coach.

Then there was a knock.  Why would the coach knock on his own door?  Was there to be another player?  "Come in." I said, not knowing what to expect.  It was the guy.  Now he was dressed like a high school jock in a PE shorts and top.  Even though he was almost four decades too old to be a high school boy he looked HOT!

"I'm sorry, Coach, that I missed practice.  I'm really sorry, COACH." he said.  I tightened my grip on the paddle and slapped my palm with it as I realized exactly what he had planned. "Yes, you will be very sorry, boy.  Very sorry indeed."  I knew I had to be calm so not to spoil the mood.  "What's the penalty for missing practice?"  I pointed to the posted rules.

"Ten, Coach." he replied far too quickly to have read them.  But, of course, he did not need to read them at all.

"POSITION!" I barked, "There's nothing to discuss."  He stripped off his top, dropped his shorts and pealed off his jock strap.  I was right in the bar – he was in tip top shape.  Then he bent over the desk.

"Ready, Coach, for my paddling."

I was ready also.  I found the right spot, tapped his butt to let him know and raised the paddle.


"One, thank you, Coach."

Half his butt was turning red from the first hard pop.  I was certain that he would be able to take the full ten.  I gave him the second and again he thanked me.  His butt was all red when I was only half way through but I never thought to stop.  Slowly I delivered the second half getting the proper 'thank you' for each one.

Before the last one, I told him he was not to get up until given permission.

"Yes, Coach."

I grabbed a condom, ripped the packet open with my teeth and opened my Levis'.  My cock sprung up, exhilarated to be free from the tight confines and I easily rolled the condom over it.  Then I gave him the tenth pop.


He really felt that one for his thank you was delayed.  I did not have any thing to pause about.  I put the paddle down and grabbed his hips tightly and drove my shaft right into his hole.  His hole in the middle of his red-hot butt.  He grunted in pain but did not resist keeping his tight grip on the desk like an obedient schoolboy.  I would have fought him if he had.  I was too worked up to have waited for anything.

As I fucked him roughly, he made happy sounds.  It did not take me long to blast my load into the condom encasing my steel hard shaft now rammed deep into his asshole.  He also came making a mess on the desk.  I pulled out and he stood up.  He got a couple of towels out of the desk and threw me one.  We both cleaned up.

I felt a lot better than I had when I left work.  "Thanks.  It was great." he said.

"Yes, it was.  I feel a lot better now."  I closed up my jeans and he got dressed and then escorted me to the elevator.  "My driver will take you home."  We shook hands as I got into the elevator.

"The master will call you in a few days." said the chauffeur when he let me out at my apartment.

As I drifted into a deep restful sleep, I thought about how he needed release from bossing people about all week and I needed it because I had been bossed about all week.

Week 2: Getting My Due

© Copyright A.I.L. February 21, 2010

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