Are You Afraid of Me, Boss?

Are You Afraid of Me, Boss?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Can you think of a duller office job than being the junior-most “technical associate” to help deal with the software/systems side of medical billing processes for a medium-sized hospital?

Me neither. 

But it seemed like it would pay pretty well, and frankly there aren’t a lot of opportunities for me here in Nashua, New Hampshire.  Nashua, a town that likes to think it’s a small city, up here in the northeast corner of the USA. 

So, here in the job interview, I expressed interest.  Enthusiasm, even. I laid down the bullshit and spread it extra-thick: “What I like about this job – from the sound of what you’re saying – is the curiosity factor.  You get to dig in there and figure out what’s wrong, and you get to solve problems, and help people do their jobs, help make the system more efficient.  I’ve always been a problem solver, so I like that.  Besides… I was born here.”

I’m Paul.  And that last bit was true, I really was born in that hospital, 24 years ago.  Now I’m two years out of college, and I’m in a jam because my first job – for a small medical/high-tech startup – is on the skids. The young company is blowing through its venture capital funding far too quickly and making big mistakes at the top.  Probably because it’s being run by “kids” not much older than me.

And, saddled with $60K in student loan debt and payments due every month, I’m also stuck living with my parents up here in New Hampshire, which is why the startup company (located nearby) seemed like a good fit.  But now that place is falling apart.

So I’m sitting here at 9:30am on a Thursday, interviewing in a sportcoat and dress shirt and nice trousers, and I’m trying to impress this pleasant, friendly, nice-looking gay guy named Russell.  I fucked up and called him “Russ” at the outset, and he smiled cutely and said “Well – actually – it’s Russell.” He said it sweetly, almost apologetically.  He seemed to really, really want me to like him.

Everything about Russell is good and earnest and nice and kind, and I realize immediately that he’s gay.  A homo, like me – sort of.  I mean, yeah, we do have that in common, but I’ll make the obvious point here: two men who are sexually attracted to other men can turn out to have very different personalities.

Let me describe Russell. Imagine this really wholesome, innocent-looking gay kid in high school.  He’s a good boy, a people-pleaser.  And imagine he gets good grades and all his teachers like him, and he actually likes school, and maybe he’s the Student Council Vice President or some shit like that.  Imagine he’s all cute and twinky, with nicely styled sandy-blond hair and big brown eyes and perfect skin, and most of his close friends are girls, and he sits with them at lunch, and there’s a lot of bubbly laughter. 

Now take that nice, gay “good boy” and imagine him all grown up, a decade and a half later… at age 30 or 31. He’s a young office-department manager with an MPH (Masters in Public Health degree). That’s Russell.  He probably either has a nice suburban house with a garden and a husband and two dogs, or he wants to.  His hair is still perfect and his skin is still perfect and he’s still all cute and earnest and kind and nice looking.  His body is quite fit and athletic, probably from regular gym workouts and cardio/spin classes, yet there’s something ornamental about it, and his hands are pretty. He’s probably never done actual grunt-and-sweat manual labor in all his life. 

I give Russell some direct and sustained eye contact a few times during this job interview, because I know the effect it has on some gay guys when I do it to them.  And I think it’s working – he flinches and looks away, and smiles very politely and describes the department some more, or he asks me another nice easy question with a friendly smile.  I can tell he’s gonna offer me the job.

Me, in a nutshell: I have a lot of sexual energy. Always been this way.  And my body has just always wanted to fuck something, ever since I started to hit puberty.  A funny true story: for a whole year when I was age 13, I used to hump the mattress and cum all over it, and it was my private favorite thing to do. I thought that was what they meant by “masturbation.” Jacking off with my hand came later, as an add-on, and I still liked fucking the bed better. 

So, yeah, I’m a top; sexually it is what I was made for – and it doesn’t hurt that I have a big swinging dick to match.  I’m six feet tall, kind of lean but strong and fit enough, and I’ve got a decent looking masculine face, hazel-green eyes and dark hair and a few days’ scruff across my face and jaw... I’m not a 10 in the looks department but I get my share of attention. But it’s really my sex vibe and big dick and cocky attitude and my abilities as a fuck machine that keep the boys (and men) wanting it, and they come back for more. 

I’ve always had a rebellious side and a twisted edge to my personality.  I was “bi” for a while in high school, but more and more I got hooked on that primal animal thing that I feel when I’m fucking a guy deep up the ass, and making him go wild with intensity – and that became all I wanted to do. One thing that really gets me off is messing with a hot boy (or man) who wants things he’s afraid to ask for – I know what those things are, and I know how to push that edge, how to make him say and do shit he’s never said and done before. How to reduce him to a begging, whimpering fuck-toy that’s mine, all mine. 

Russell’s eyes widened a little and his lips parted slightly when I took the wheel, as our interview concluded.  “Good to meet you too, Russell. I’ll just tell you now: I want the job, I’m a good fit for it, and I’m 100% interested. I’ll email you to confirm.” 

I did.  And the job offer came the following Tuesday.  And they gave me $5K more than what I expected.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I don’t use Facebook much – it’s been turning into a holding tank for lonely people and everyone’s parents – but it still has value sometimes.  Russell gave me his business card at the end of the interview, so I had his last name. Within ten seconds I found “Russell Nielden”, living nearby in the small town next to Nashua, and it turns out we have four Facebook friends in common.  One of them is Jimmy, a good friend and occasional past fuck buddy of mine.  So one night I got Jimmy to tell me some stuff…. after I plowed him good, like old times, and got him slightly stoned.  Jimmy’s so fucking adorable.  Furry little 5 foot 7 cub with a nice thick compact body, and he was always down for it when I wanted some.

“So yeah I got this new job at the hospital, and I start next week. It’s gonna be great.  My boss is Russell Nielden, gay dude, lives around here... you know him?”

“Oh wow – Paul, that’s excellent. And your boss is Russell!”  Jimmy was a little high and still in a state of wiped-out bliss, from how good I’d fucked him earlier.  We had washed up, post-sex, and then tumbled back into his bed. Now we were just laying there naked, snuggling and talking, and catching up on life while one of my hands gently twirled and stroked the soft fur on Jimmy’s chest.  He went on about Russell. “He’s the nicest. We became friends through his ex but… well, then we lost touch. Breakup stuff… you know how it goes.”

It wasn’t hard to get Jimmy to spill the whole story.

“… And so it turns out, or at least this is how I heard it: Russell really wanted the two of them to eventually be a married couple and have kids and all that. And so that freaked Mike the fuck out, I guess. ‘Cause one day Mike suddenly announces he’s moving to New York City – and that he’s been cheating on Russell, hooking up all over the place, and he just wants to be free. Buh-bye Mike. Ain’t seen you since.” 

I snuggled Jimmy tight and kissed him roughly on the neck.  “Interesting.  I kinda picked up on some of that in the interview.  The nice wholesome good-boy thing.” 

“Yeah but he’ll probably be a great manager.  Like, super easy to work for.  I can’t even imagine Russell ever getting mad at you about anything.”

=-=-=-=-=-=

It was true.  Russell was easy to work for.  But, goddamn, what a fucking dull place to work.  Each day in the hospital administrative offices just seemed to drag on forever…. hour…. by… hour.  Almost nothing interesting ever happened.  I actually missed the dysfunction and chaos and adrenaline of the startup company, even though it was collapsing and I barely got out in time.  To help pass the hours, I started digging into problems with the medical billing software and ways I thought the hospital could do stuff better.  And I’d send Russell a memo about it every once in a while, and he’d thank me and sometimes send it on upward to his boss, Corrine the Vice President.

I couldn’t resist fucking with Russell a little.  We almost never met privately one-on-one; it was usually just a weekly staff meeting.  Russell the nice cute gay middle-manager with his little department of six, including me, around a conference room table.  Once in a while when I had questions or an idea, I would stop into his office and talk.  And it was fun to give him looks and use a tone of voice that’s borderline-inappropriate for the office, while discussing the most banal shit.  

I’d be saying “So we could just delete those two columns, then re-run the report and sort it by patient zip code…” while I’m looking deep into his kind brown eyes and speaking in a lower voice than usual, with an energy coming off me like Want me to fuck you, Russell? I’ve been noticing that nice round man-ass of yours in those slim fitting pants. Want me to pull ‘em down and just take that butt and fuck it good? Yeah that’s right, of course you do.

And he’d try to just stay in the conversation, but he’d get flustered and his cheeks would blush just a little and he’d have to look away from me. It was so fucking funny and cute.  And he couldn’t do a thing about it – everything I said was job-related and normal and appropriate. Just talking about a patient-data report, right?  Maybe Russell was… imagining things. 

I could tell it was getting to him, as the first couple of months passed.  He tried to always act 100% professional and reasonably friendly to me, but sometimes in a staff meeting, someone else would be talking and then I’d glance at Russell to see that he’d been staring at me.  And those big brown eyes of his would panic in that split-second of connection with mine, and he’d look away in a flash. Ha ha. Busted!

He stayed shy around me though.  One afternoon I was taking a piss in the men’s bathroom, nobody else was in there… and Russell walked in, and instead of stepping up to the other urinal right beside me, he darted quietly into a stall and started pissing in there.  Too bad, boss – you could’ve had a good look at this big thick dick of mine.

In a way, I can blame porn for the way things escalated – or more accurately, the way I chose to escalate things – after this. Like I said, my sex drive goes through the fuckin’ roof sometimes; it’s just the way I am.  I probably think about sex at least half of each waking day.  And I’m stuck in this boring office job and trapped living with my parents because of student loan debt.  So, being the constantly horny fucker that I am, hooking up and fucking guys is my #1 outlet... and #2, close behind it, is watching porn.

And so, is it my fault that there’s a new dude in gay porn who happens to look a lot like Russell? I mean, it’s not him. But the resemblance is close enough to turn me on in a new way.  Because this guy, man, he has a true porn-star quality ass and he’s one of the hotter guys SeanCody.com has found in recent years. And… he LOVES to get bred.  He looks all clean and handsome and sweet as apple pie, but on camera this man is a hungry fuck-slut who can’t get enough hot raw dick inside him -- the deeper and harder the better. He goes to fuckin’ heaven when a man cums inside him and he feels it.  And he really does look like Russell, maybe a couple years younger but very similar.  

So yeah, maybe I tracked down and pirated every scene of his that I could get my greedy paws on. And maybe I gathered them all into one place on my 2TB porn drive, and maybe I named the folder “Take it Russell”.  And maybe I watched those scenes… often.  And maybe just clicking into my porn folders and seeing that phrase – Take it Russell – on my monitor, would be enough to make my big dick start to get hard. 

And so maybe the stuff that happened as a result is my fault… and porn’s fault.

Friday was rainy and the office was even quieter than usual, and I was climbing the walls.  I decided today was the day to fuck around with Russell a little more.  I stopped in.

“Hey boss – got a couple minutes?” I like to call him boss, in a teasing and ironic way; he may be my manager but his personality is so un-boss-like.  And now he can’t say no to me, he’s just sitting there behind his computer doing whatever it is he does, and doing it with no sense of urgency.

I gently swing his office door shut with a click, and I take a seat in his guest chair.  I look into his eyes and see a hint of rising anxiety.  Russell looks good today, maybe a new haircut or something.  I smile. “So – I want to ask you something.  Just to make sure everything’s good.  Are you afraid of me, boss?”

His eyes widen for an instant and then he regains his composure and laughs, a little awkwardly.  “What? Uh, well, I’m sorry Paul, if I ever gave you a wrong impression. Everything’s fine.” 

But you didn’t say no, I’m thinking. “Cool. Just wanted to ask.”

I pause. Silence hangs in the air between us.  I continue and smile, speaking now in my lower sexier voice.  “Also – we’re on the same team, you n’ me. You know what I mean.”  

Russell’s eyes widen with a hint of surprise, then he smiles uncomfortably. “Oh – I’m sorry, I don’t usually discuss that kind of thing in the workplace.”

I grin. “I’m not your usual discussion partner.”  And my eyes are looking direct into his like, Russell, if you wanted, I could be inappropriately fucking you. You could be inappropriately riding my big dick.

“Anyway thanks. For hiring me. I like it here. See ya.” And before he can say anything else, I get up and open his door and leave. 

=-=-=-=-=

That night I drove almost all the way to Boston (an hour south) for a hookup that I really thought was gonna be great, but it was a disappointment.  Long story there, but I knew it was a failure when, mid-fuck, I found myself wishing I was home in my room alone and jacking off to porn.  More specifically, I wished I was jacking off to images of Russell’s look-alike getting pounded vigorously on SeanCody.com’s leather sofa.  Hours later, that’s what I was doing – and that orgasm was a better one for me.  No awkward conversation afterward.

That was late July.  The whole month of August, my job stayed as boring as ever. And I could tell Russell was getting even more edgy and twitchy around me.  One time in a group meeting, I glanced over at him and he was just staring at me again and softly biting his lip.  As usual his eyes darted away quick.  But I noticed they held the stare just a second longer than usual, this time, before breaking it. 

There were some other moments like this, here and there, over the next few weeks.  Subtle.  But detectable.  One day toward the end of the month, I walked into the employee kitchen and Russell was heating up something in the microwave.  He knew I was there, we said hi, and then he kind of bent down to check on his food and re-start the microwave – and it seemed to me like maybe he was thrusting his butt out toward me a little more than he had to.  It was right on the edge for me: was he doing this, or was I just hungry to believe it.  That ass of his always looks so good if you’re a butt lover, which I definitely am. It’s so fit and shapely and round. Fuckable, and that’s an understatement.

Around this same time, something else was going on that could change my life.  This hot older guy I fucked a couple of times down in Boston – he actually came through on something he promised to me. I didn’t think he would, but he did it: he set me up with a job interview at his company in the city, and it went great, and I got that same feeling: they’re going to offer me the job.  And it’s a lot more money.  Enough that I could move out of my parents’ house and down to Boston.

They say it’s foolish to count your chickens before they hatch. But in my mind those chickens were strutting around and clucking real loud.  I’m about to get that amazing new job and get a place of my own!  I felt really stoked.  Enough so that I decided, fuck it, I’m gonna leave this dull hospital up here in Nashua; I might as well push things with Russell.  

By now I was clear about my urge to actually fuck him, for real – it wasn’t just a lightweight game anymore.  I wanted to do him, and I was ready to at least try to make it happen. In the back of my head I knew caution would be wiser in this situation, but I was so fuckin’ bored and, as I often do, was thinking with my dick.

It was very quiet, the Friday before Labor Day holiday weekend. Almost half of the office staff were out.  And I was betting that I’d get the job down in Boston and be outta here within a few weeks anyway.  So I went for it.

“Hey boss, I want to discuss something if you’ve got a couple minutes.”  Again that cute anxious look in his big brown eyes.  I step in, close his office door and drop into his guest chair once again. I lean forward in the chair, my eyes looking into his for a moment.

“Russell. You know – sometimes I glance over at you during meetings and stuff, and – guess what I notice. You, staring at me.” I wanna fuck you, Russell. And you know it, every time our eyes meet.

Now he’s all uncomfortable.  He just sits there and says nothing, though. I think he’s caught in shock at where this conversation is heading.

My voice gets even more low and quiet, soft. My dick, in contrast, is starting to thicken and grow between my legs as I sit in his office chair.  “So – it’s just the two of us in here. You n’ me.  Alone, in this little space.  We could talk about… whatever the fuck we want.”  Russell’s eyes widen at my use of profanity. 

“I say this because… I’d like to talk to you inappropriately right now. Just you n’ me.  Private. If I have your consent.”  Balls-deep inside you, boss. That’s where I wanna be.

Jennifer from Accounts Payable walks by and continues around the corner, her high-heel shoes clop-clopping faintly outside the closed office door.  Russell stays silent, but his cheeks are beginning to flush a pink-rosy color.  He’s just sitting there in shock, with his open collar dress shirt, his neatly styled sandy-blond hair, his fresh clean-shaven face with the hint of golden brown stubble across it.  He looks into my eyes and then looks down, away. My big cock is fully hard now in my pants. And I notice a fresh little bead of sweat forming up on his temple, the edge of his forehead.  Fuckin’ hot, to see that, see what I’m doing to him. I did ask for consent.  And I don’t hear you saying no.

I begin.

“I’m a top.  You understand what I’m sayin’ here. Top. I like to fuck.  And I want you to know… in my eyes, in my opinion… you’ve got a beautiful ass.  I check it out every chance I get.” 

Russell’s face continues to heat up and blush red, and he literally gulps. I’m sitting right there and I see the muscles of his throat move and slide.  He starts to speak but he can’t get words out. His eyes are full of intensity and confusion.

“You want me to fuck you sometime, Russell?  You want it?  I’d give to ya real good.”

He’s been half-holding his breath, and finally he gasps out loud.  “Paul – please – stop. We need to end this conversation.”

“Okay boss. I’m gonna get up real slow now. Take a good long look at what’s between my legs…”

And I slowly rise from the chair, and stand right in front of him, my back to the hallway, my pants just a few feet from his face.  My dick is massively hard and straining against the fabric of my trousers. It looks like I’ve shoved a cucumber down in there.   Russell tries not to stare at it, but stare he does, even as he’s telling me to stop. “Paul – that’s enough!”

I slide a hand down and tap one fingertip on the mammoth tent in my trousers. “Yeah, it’s definitely enough. Happy to prove it to ya sometime.”  And I reach over and pick up a couple of file folders from a stack on the far corner of Russell’s desk.  “Borrowing these, for cover.  I’ll drop ‘em off later.”

And out I go, leaving Russell’s office door open. His folders of random paperwork cover my huge erection as I stroll back to my assigned office-drone cubicle.  I don’t look back.

When I come back mid-afternoon to drop off his folders of paperwork, his office lights are out.  Russell has left for the day. I chuckle, hoping it’s just an early start to his holiday weekend, and I wonder if he’s in a bar or a therapist’s office somewhere.  Hopefully not in an attorney’s office.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Then, shit, everything went to hell, I didn’t get the new job in Boston… ha ha, just kidding.  I knew I’d get it.  The very next workday, Tuesday morning after Labor Day weekend, the offer came.  Amazing – a salary of $63K and four weeks’ paid vacation. 

Russell, it turned out, was away on two extra days of vacation, but I wanted to give notice immediately.  So I emailed my news to him and the vice president, Corrine. Then I verbally told my immediate team of co-workers... and I waited for Russell to come back on Thursday.

Last time I saw him, I was turning and walking out of his office with a huge boner in my pants.  Now I’ve resigned from my job, and I’m leaving a week from Friday.  I wondered how it’d go if I stop in to try to talk with him again. 

Russell didn’t look at me when he came into the office and walked by my cubicle area on Thursday morning.  A half-hour later, he “replied-all” to my resignation email. His words were brief and reasonably friendly. 

“Best of luck to you with this new opportunity, Paul.  You contributed a lot to the team in your short time here.”

I decided to give him a day’s mercy and stop in to his office tomorrow, Friday, instead. 

Early afternoon on Friday seemed like a good time.  The usual chain of events: I knock, come right in before he can say no, then I close his door and sit down in his guest chair. 

Russell speaks first, this time. “Well. Congratulations, Paul. But I also want to say -- what happened a week ago was completely out of line.”

I grin, mischievous and cocky. What the fuck; I’m leaving this place. “Maybe. But it did turn you on.” 

“And now this is out of line.  Paul – I don’t, this is not—“

I cut him off, my voice low and firm.  “True or false: It turned you on. And now you can’t stop thinkin’ about it.” 

Russell’s handsome face is starting to blush again. He puts a hand up and looks away from me. “Conversation over. Good luck in Boston.”

I laugh. “Aw gee, thanks. Listen: you know I’m outta here next Friday. I move down to Boston that same weekend. Already got an apartment.” 

Russell remains silent, sitting before me, but he’s breathing just a little harder than normal. His cheeks are getting a little more flushed with color and heat.

I lean in and speak again, more softly. “Say yes to me, boss. You won’t regret it.”  Then I get up and go.

=-=-=-=-=-=

That weekend I start to pack up my childhood bedroom and get ready to move to Boston.  I’m really excited.  In some ways it feels like college was this big step into freedom and adulthood, but then I took two steps back living with my parents afterward.  Sometimes I feel so fuckin’ restless and pent-up like a caged animal.  I can’t ever fully relax, can’t ever really do what I want when I want to.  And I don’t feel so proud when I have to tell people that I still live “at home.”  I turn 25 next March.  I’m a man, not a boy. And I’m ready to make my own fucking definition of “at home”, and ready to do it in a new city.   

I’m thinking about Russell a lot, though.  And I watch those porn scenes again, watching his look-alike getting pounded down and loving it.  And again I imagine me fucking him for real, grabbing that chance before I pack up and leave town.  I cum so fucking hard, watching one of these scenes, and it’s a challenge not to yell and wake my parents down the hall.  I spend some time thinking about when exactly I should pop into Russell’s office again, next week – and what to say when I do.  I’ve really pushed it, and maybe pushed it too far.  But I’m gonna try one more time.

On Monday, at work, Russell and I barely cross paths at all.  It’s a long dull day… and it reminds me how glad I am to be moving on.  Four days to go.

But on Tuesday morning, during our weekly “team huddle” in the conference room, there’s a moment again when somebody else is talking, and I glance over at Russell, and he’s just staring directly at me. And this time the look I see in his eyes is vivid, intense, like the witnessing of raw emotion. 

He catches himself and looks away, but our eyes have met.  I saw the way Russell looked at me.  And he saw me seeing it.  He was feeling something, that’s for damn sure.

I decide that tomorrow, Wednesday, is when I’ll go talk to him again.  I want to fuck that ass of his so bad, just one time. Gotta try, I tell myself… and tomorrow’s the day.

Then just before noon, as I’m just sitting there bored at my cubicle-desk area… my phone extension rings.  It’s an internal call.  I pick up.  

To my surprise – it’s Russell.  He’s my boss but he has never phoned me before, in my five months here.  “Hi Paul – if now’s a good time, could I speak with you for a moment?”  I tell him, sure, I’ll be right over.

When I enter his office and close the door and sit in his guest chair, this time it feels different.  Up to this point I’ve been calling the shots, playing these games with him.  But now I’m here because he summoned me – and it’s clear from the look on Russell’s face, he’s got stuff he wants to say.

“First: I just want to make sure, this is an absolutely confidential conversation?”  Of course, boss.

“Okay. Well – I don’t know how to – okay, I’ll just say it: I called you in here because I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t concentrate, I can’t focus on anything, I don’t know when you’re going to come barging in here again and start… talking that way to me.”

I’ve never seen Russell so upset, so worked up like this.  Part of me is turned on and part of me feels bad for him. “Hey – I’m sorry boss. I don’t mean to cause you suffering.”  I pause – then grin.  “But your ass is so fuckin’… damn, I just wanna put my name on it.”

He surprises me by releasing a tight burst of laughter, even as he’s upset. “My god, you’re relentless.”

“Yup.” My big dick is growing, once again, in my pants. 

We pause and just look at each other.  My eyes hold his gaze and this time he holds it in return. You down for it, Russell?  Finally gonna let me give it to you?

I break the silence. “You wanna hang out with me, tomorrow night?”

He surprises me again.  “Well – I was thinking, actually – Thursday night is better for me.”

Jesus Christ on a gold platter.  Did I just hear that right?

I did.  We both break into slow, mischievous smiles, me and Russell, alone together in his office.  Our own private two-man conspiracy. 

I say, real quiet but with full-throttle sexual intent, “I can’t wait to be inside you, boss.” 

Russell puts a hand up in mock defense. “Stop, and get out of here before I lose control.  I’m serious.” 

We can’t stop smiling.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I’m not stupid.  If you’d asked me to think about it, I would have said no. No, I have no reasonable expectation that hooking up with Russell is going to be like the porn scenes I’ve been watching on SeanCody.com. 

But I didn’t think about it.  And I’d jacked off maybe 50 times, to images of his porn lookalike getting bareback-fucked with moaning howling delight and piggy enthusiasm. So I ended up being surprised at how different it was from porn scenes.  Me, getting intimate with Russell the actual person.  My boss from work.

First, I knew from Facebook that he lived in the town next to Nashua. But the address Russell gave me for Thursday night is two towns further out than that, and when I map it on my GPS, it looks to be on a remote road out in the woods, in the middle of nowhere. 

Driving at night, down dark roads that curve a winding path between a million trees, I turn on the high beams. I take out a piece of mint gum to chew on.  Homes out here are few and far between, little pockets of soft light in long stretches of woodsy darkness.  I pull up to the correct mailbox, #203, then drive up the driveway and around one last curve to find a cozy, private stone-and-wood cabin. It has large glass windows on one side, and a large chimney coming out the back.  The night air feels cool and fresh as I step out of my car. 

The door opens as I walked up to it, and there stands Russell, smiling, in a dark-red cotton shirt and casual denim jeans.  I say, “Wow. Cute place you got out here.”

He continues smiling, he looks so freakin’ happy to see me.  “Well – it’s not mine.  My friend rents it out as an AirB&B and he owes me a favor.” 

I step up to Russell and tug on the belt-loops of his jeans and move in close, face to face, almost kissing him.  My mind connects some dots. “So this is what you meant by Thursday night working out better. And we’re way out here in the woods, at your friend’s place, in case you end up makin’ some noise?”

Russell laughs.  He smells really good, close up. “Maybe.”

I grab his butt with both my hands and lay claim to it. Mmm. Feels so fuckin’ good to finally hold that ass. “Maybe,” I repeat back to him.  And we kiss, and kiss, and kiss, standing just inside the doorway, my two hands caressing and squeezing that firm round butt.  Russell has lifted a hand to my face, and his fingertips are stroking my facial scruff and my ear and neck, sensually, as we make out.

The main part of the cabin is a big high-ceiling living room, with thick dark wood crossbeams and a huge stone fireplace and chimney going up the side of the house.  Russell invites me into the room. The air is full of the smell of wood, and there’s a large pile of firewood ready to be lit.  “I know it’s still mid-September, early for a fire – but, in case we want one…” Russell motions to the firewood.

We start messing around, though, and horniness takes over; spending the night sitting in front of a fireplace is not on our minds.  I pull Russell’s shirt off; his body is nice and toned and fit, with a light spread of hair across his chest.  My dick is hard in my jeans and I try to adjust it for comfort but it’s a big one. I guide his hand to my belt buckle. “Go on, set a dick free.”

“Glad to,” he says, and as we continue pulling each other’s clothes off, we tumble onto a large L-shaped sofa and keep making out.  Soon we’re both buck naked and he’s rock-hard too.  His cock is a nice one, average size and cut with a nice big head on it, and big balls that swing below it.  My own thick long 9-inch uncut dick bounds out from my underwear, as he pulls it down. “Oh WOW” he says.  And he leans down and begins to suck on it.  Russell isn’t the most amazing cocksucker in the world but he is good, and I give him 10 extra points for enthusiasm and devotion. “I’ve been waiting forever to do this,” he whispers as he gently slaps my big dick against his face and swirls his tongue and mouth around and around the foreskin and head of it, and then tries to go down on as much of it as he can, with his hand stroking the base.  Russell is a man in love, in this moment, and my dick is happy to be the love object.

Eventually I say “Let’s move to the bedroom”, and he goes along with my directive.  We walk naked out of the living room, but when we pass the bathroom Russell says “Well – um – I’m embarrassed to ask but, can you wait while I just do some stuff in here? I just, I want to be sure of things…”  So fuckin’ cute.  He wants to douche, he knows this big cock is going up deep into him, and nice boys don’t talk about such things.

Sure, I say, I’ll hang out in the bedroom.  He shows me to it, then leaves me to get comfortable there, and it’s nice.  Cozy with a big soft queen-size bed, rugs on the hardwood floor, and more thick wooden crossbeams going across the ceiling.  True to his “good boy” nature, Russell has thoughtfully prepared the scene; there’s a bottle of decent-quality lube and a little pile of soft cotton hand towels on the nightstand beside the bed.  And there are no neighbors around, in any direction.  Just me and Russell in this cabin-house, out here in the woods.  This turns me on, the more I absorb it. 

I stretch out naked on the bed while Russell tends to his business down the hall.  I lazily stroke my dick, thinking again about him in the office, in his professional clothes, and the way he kept looking at me, and the way he got so flustered and bothered around me, even before I started going “over the line” and talking dirty to him.  And thinking of him naked now, looking so good from head to toe, and sucking my dick so eagerly.  And I’m going to fuck him, at last, and he wants it, he definitely wants it. There’s a careful and anxious side to Russell, but I’m also tapping into a very hungry, lustful, sexual side of him, and it’s interesting how the two sides coexist.

Russell comes back to the room, naked, and he looks so good in the dim light.  I stretch across the bed, stroking my mostly-hard dick and looking up into his eyes, and I say “You sexy fucker.”  He laughs and says “Same goes for you.”  Then he impulsively jumps into the bed and we’re all over each other. 

We start making out again and I start humping on him as we kiss, and he begins to moan softly in pleasure and excitement.  Porn images of Russell’s look-alike getting fucked delirious start to dance in my brain, as we kiss.  I want to fuckin’ drill him so bad right now.

Russell is pinned down on the bed beneath me and looking up into my eyes eagerly and devotedly like a puppy-dog.  And instead of moving into a fuck, he starts saying all this gushy personal stuff, babbling words and more words.  “Paul, I can’t believe we’re doing this, I really wanted to, but it was wrong and also against policy and I could get fired, and technically you’re still on my staff so I still could get fired, but I’m so sick of being so careful and hesitating all the time in my life, and you just, Paul, I don’t know what it is about you, but I wish so much that I could be more like you sometimes, and –”

I interrupt by pinning Russell down tighter beneath me and moving in to kiss him and shut him up.  My scruffy jaw drags roughly along his face.  He whimpers softly “mmph mmm” as we kiss.  I’m grinding my big fat dick up and down against his body, in rhythm.  And I break the kiss and slide two of my fingers slowly into his mouth.  He sucks on them obediently, warm and wet, as I keep humping on him, in fuck motion.

I reach over to the nightstand and take the bottle of lube with my other free hand, and guide Russell to help put it on my fingers.  Soon my left hand’s fingers are back in his mouth, and my right hand is sliding a well-slicked finger slowly up his butthole.  It’s tight and it resists me at first, and he utters a little gasp of breath.  I keep on going though, gentle and slick, in and out... and he eases, softens, opens up for me a little more.  I grin and say “that’s it, nice….” And it really is so fucking sexy, what he’s doing… slowly relaxing, slowly letting me slide my fingers into both his warm wet holes at the same time. 

Eventually I can slide a second finger into his hole and then a third, with more and more lube… and he’s really opening up for me now.  He’s ready.

I position Russell just where I want him, and I lean down and kiss him again slow and juicy.  “It’s time, boss.”  And I nudge the fat head of my dick against his warm slippery hole… and I begin to push, ever so slow.  Slow but inexorable.  We’re gonna do this. It’s going in.

His ass feels so fuckin’ perfect as he opens it up for me at last.  Tight, yet willing. I slide the head in, slow and gentle at first.  I nudge my dick in there just a little more and can feel the next ring of resistance inside him.  He starts breathing hard and moaning softly, and saying my name, and I fuckin’ love that, hearing my name during sex.  “Oh Paul…. ohmygod… uh!.. ohhh Paul yes… mmm... Paul….” 

I hold Russell in position where I want him, on his back, sort of between missionary and sidesaddle, one of his legs stretched up in the air, and I keep on pushing my dick in there, with slow gentle determination.  “Paul…. yes… ohhh… oooOHHH!!”  It happens: his inner ring gives way and I slide my big dick deeper on inside him, filling him.  I start fucking him gently, and looking down deep into those big brown eyes.  There’s such a longing, pleading, intense expression in them. And his arms reach around me and hold me tighter, and he’s making these soft wordless begging whimpering sounds as those eyes look up into mine, blazing with intensity. 

And I realize, in that moment, the huge difference between Russell and his slutty sexy porn-stud lookalike.  This is not going to be lust-fueled, animalistic fun for him. No. Russell feels things, feels them deeply. This longing and passion and soulful intensity in his eyes, as he cries out softly and lets me slide on into him more and more, warm and big and thick.  Russell is really feeling this. Carnal, sexual… emotional.  Body and soul.

I start stroking Russell’s hard dick as I’m fucking him deep, and he starts writhing in ecstasy and then it happens so fast – boom, he cries out much louder and shoots a huge splashing load, jets and jets of semen, all over himself.  His chest and abs are covered in a mess of his own cum, and the aroma rises to my nostrils and it turns me on intensely; I love cum.  And it looks fuckin’ hot. I’m still lodged deep inside him, moving slow, fucking him even more gently as his orgasm simmers down.  I get the urge to lick the fresh warm cum off his naked skin, and as I continue to fuck him in slow motion, I slide fingertips along the curves and muscles of his naked body, scooping up that fresh spunk and sucking it off my fingers, hungrily.  I like the taste of a man’s cum, and Russell’s tastes great. 

I get back to fucking him, though, because I ain’t done.  He came, and now I want to.  I can tell I’m not gonna be able to really fuck Russell hard, like a jackhammer.  He’s still kind of tight and now he’s in a blissed out post-ejaculation state and he needs me to stay gentle and deep, moving in and out, in and out, keeping him in awe and bliss.  But it’s good for me too, more than good – his ass clings to my dick on every long stroke in and out, and it feels fuckin’ incredible for me. 

I usually think I need to fuck a guy real hard in order to cum, but Russell is taking me there, deep and slow.  I feel it rising in me a little more every minute, as I fuck him deep and long and he just holds onto me in a passionate embrace, moaning softly and whimpering my name. I feel more and more heat rising in me, as I fuck him even deeper – and WHOOSH, suddenly I’m cumming, shooting way up inside him.  Fuckin’ beautiful.  I’m gasping for breath, almost shaking, as my whole body arches and my dick keeps surging, splurting shot after shot.  Russell is holding onto me and breathing hard too, in a state of amazed ecstasy.  “Paul, I feel it…. ohmygod I can really feel it… ohh yes… ohh Paul…” 

I stay deep inside him as the orgasm subsides.  Russell’s eyes keep looking up deeply into mine as we hold onto each other, and his eyes are rimmed with tears, like he’s almost about to cry.  Suddenly he utters: “Paul – I love you.” I smile – I’m kind of thrown by that. I feel like maybe I should say it back; here we are, in this deep state of intimacy; we're wrapped around each other naked and I just flooded him with all the semen I've got. 

I bend my face down to his ear and graze his neck with my scruff, kissing his warm skin very softly, tenderly. I go ahead and whisper it.  “Love you too.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Russell said I could stay over, and he had this idea that he could light a fire and we could just cuddle in front of it, and maybe even stay the night in bed together.  But I had a ton of packing to do for my move, and also it was kind of awkward, that whole “I love you” thing after I came inside him.  Wasn’t expecting that.  So we cuddled in bed for a while… and I got dressed, got in my car and drove back home through all the dark woodsy twists and curves.

And I went to work the next day, and Russell had taken the morning off, but he was in that afternoon, and I went around and said goodbye to everyone, and stopped in to talk with him one more time.  But I left his door open too long, and Melissa, my coworker, came rushing in to join us before I realized – “Paul, I can’t believe this is your last day, we’re gonna miss you!” she exclaimed, and then she wouldn’t leave. 

So I just thanked Russell again “for everything” and said “let’s definitely stay in touch.”

And he smiled at me and, with a glance toward Melissa, he just said “Thank you again, Paul, it’s been great.”

And that was it.

I was busy with moving down to Boston, that weekend and into the next week, plus starting my brand new job.  Everything was going well so far.

But when I was alone at night, in bed, I kept thinking of Russell.  And when I watched the porn scenes with his lookalike, it just wasn’t the same.  I’d close my eyes and remember the emotion, the desire in his eyes, and the way my dick felt so fuckin’ perfect inside him and he loved it so much, and the way he kept calling out my name.  And the way he looked up at me with so much longing and said “I love you.”

Maybe I’m getting older, I thought.  But that was... meaningful, somehow.  It was more than just a fuck.  And I felt hungry for more.  I didn’t know quite what I was feeling, it was sex but there was a heart thing going on for me too, when I kept thinking about Russell and that night we shared in the cabin out in the woods.

I realized Russell never had given me his cell number or any other personal contact info.  So I went on Facebook and found him again, and I wrote him a message: 

“Still thinking about you a lot, and that night.  Sexy and special.  Want to come down to Boston sometime? I’ve got my own place down here. Or I can even come up to see you. I want more. XOXO”

I sat back and looked at it before sending.  Ha ha, fuck, that doesn’t even sound like me.  It is the most gushy, love-affair-type message I have ever composed, to send to anybody.  What the hell is going on with me? 

I took a breath, and I sent it.

And a few days later, I got a reply from Russell.

“Thanks, Paul, it was special for me too. I should have been more honest with you.  I’ve been seeing someone and it is getting serious and it’s great.  When you wanted to do what we did, I was very conflicted.  But I decided to do it because the urge was so strong and I would never have the chance again. Now I am focused on my relationship. I wish you well in Boston and thank you again for an amazing experience. I’ll always remember it.”

Well, fuck. You never know, sometimes, what’s really going on with people.

But, me too, boss. That look in your eyes. “I love you, Paul.” I’ll always remember it.