Closing the Deal

My company, the Thoman Group, did well this year.

Up 38% year over year in revenue with a jump of 10% in profit over the same period.

Perhaps more importantly, however, we bested our closest rivals, Simi Corp. We did that by taking their largest and best client away from them. I can honestly say that I can wholly claim the credit for that. I do claim it rather publicly. It is part of my need to show my value. To everyone everywhere all the time.

You see, I am a Dealmaker. In fact, many would say I am THE Dealmaker. I like the art of dealmaking on many levels and from many perspectives. Most importantly, though, I want everyone to know that I am that guy.

Simi is literally right across the divided highway from us. Their 40-story glass and white aluminum mid-rise tower looks (down, as the Simi guys always say) over at our 25-story black glass quad of semicircular buildings that surround a large man-made pond.

I have been Head of Sales for three years now and my reign has been marked by continuous growth and rising profit.

This year, I determined that we would finally beat Simi in annual revenue for the first time. To do this, we needed to take something from them (our industry is pretty niche, so poaching clients is a necessary blood sport). So, I devised a plan to take a key client from Simi's top Salesman, Jim Adelman. He had brought this client with him to Simi from when he worked as a freelancer a year prior. After only one year, proud Jim did not like how he was being treated at Simi, so he was looking. Naturally, he approached me. He went to Simi first as they were larger, but I am well-known in the industry and have a great reputation as an effective boss and expert Dealmaker who likes to teach others my trade.

Jim approached me at the gym that both our companies commonly use in our industrial park. That both companies have arrangements with the same gym keeps the rivalry on the front burner at all times. Thoman Men and Simi Men are like gladiators staring each other down while we pump iron and play racquetball. It makes for rather horny times, in my opinion. In any case, Jim made it a point to be where I was in the weight room when I needed a spot. After the set, he introduced himself. I had heard the name and knew that he was the owner of the Ansaldi account that I had so coveted for so long. Strangely, I had not yet noticed him at the gym, though he said he had seen me a few times.

I looked him over (while he was looking me over) and liked what I saw. We were about the same height at about 5'10" but that is where the similarities ended. He cut a slim and toned profile like a swimmer covered in a slight layer of dark hair on his legs and arms (and I imagined his chest and abs as well) whereas I could be described as more thick-set. Not bulky by any means, but certainly thick-chested. We smiled at each other and there was an obvious connection between me and this dark-haired, blue-eyed boyish-type with a wicked smile (a common trait for the most successful salesmen). He seemed to be early 30's or so whereas I am a young and rather vigorous 46. He invited me to finish my workout on the treadmill if I was going to finish with some cardio. Interested, I followed him to the cardio area while taking in his narrow waist and swimmer's shoulders from a couple of paces behind him. He had nice, defined legs and sharply angled calves (such sights always make me go weak in the knees) and wore a pair of relatively new Nike trainers with black ankle socks. I wanted to massage his legs and then pull his feet out of those shoes and feel his (hopefully) moist, socked feet. But I needed to stop that line of thought so that I did not spring a woody right there.

We chatted amiably during the treadmill run. Both being in Sales, we traded boasts back and forth. Sensing that something was up between us, we arranged to continue our discussion over dinner.

He showed up dressed in a business casual way with a snug long-sleeve button-down (looked like a Sherman), nicely fitted flatfronts and black wingtips. This boy was smoking hot, in my opinion. Over dinner and quite a few drinks, the playful boasting we had begun on the treadmill earlier that evening had now led to the mild, fun threats that boys like to slide into when joshing each other. I told him that he would not last ten minutes in my office as a salesman while he retorted that he would own my office in ten minutes, etc. The analogy (yes, I was the one who went there) about how I was about to "come off the top rope like Cena" onto Simi Corp. put us firmly into the sandbox of school-boy taunts of whipping each other's asses. He retorted that scenario was unlikely as he would be there to meet me mid-ring and be sure the only one likely to be pinned and submitted was me. We were both getting hot around the zipper area and it was obvious that there was a strong mutual attraction. I went on to explain in nice detail why, though he seemed to be in good shape, he would never survive such an encounter when my arms were wrapped around his slim body and my chest was squeezing the air out of his lungs while I shook him like a rag doll. Not quite believing my boldness and thinking I had likely crossed a line of no return with a prospective employee, I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed and shifted in his seat. He was definitely hard after this exchange. So was I.

Continuing, he countered that though I was thick in my torso and arms, I probably noticed that his legs were rather stronger than the rest of him and that I would have no opportunity for a bear hug if I was gasping for breath on the ground between his thighs as he crushed my rib cage. My throat went dry and my cock twitched. Trash talk gets me started really quickly. Imagining his legs wrapped around me was about to finish off what the trash talk had started. I needed another drink at that point so I could calm down. I wanted to wrestle this guy right then and there just to experience the feeling of what would surely be exquisite body contact. My head was swimming and my boxer briefs were straining. The continuous eye contact told me all I needed to know about where this evening was headed.

The taxi ride to my place was short (we both took taxis to dinner assuming correctly, as it turned out, that alcohol would be consumed in quantity). I fixed us more drinks and showed him around. I was careful to point out my large bedroom which had a couple of yoga mats near the bed (yoga was my morning routine). I informed him that he was looking at the spot I had chosen for his eventual surrender if we ended up having to wrestle our way to an agreement. He got right up close to me as I turned to leave the room and said in a low voice right into my right ear "I hope you are man enough to tap out before I break you in half with my scissors. I hear ambulances around here take a while." I could smell the light dusting of cologne on him and I could feel his hard cock briefly rub against mine. He backed away with a smirk and turned around to allow me to complete the tour. I could only stammer after that and soon gave up to sit at the kitchen island across from him. It was time to find out everything.

Within about 30 minutes of the most engrossing conversation I had had in a very long time, we learned about our mutual preference for frotting. I could not believe my ears. I am always a bit nervous about telling others about my predilection for frot (I have only endured that conversation a small handful of times in my life). I do not practice anal sex and, to many gay men, that makes me a freak. I think it would also make my straight friends as well think I was a freak if they knew that I was gay but only into rubbing my member on another dude's member until one or both of us shot all over the place. Because, if you think about it, what could be more gay than rubbing cocks? Penetration is penetration. But The Rub is on another level.

I could not keep my eyes from roaming about him during the discussion. I was drawn by his well-kept beard, great smile, nice lips and even his hair, which was the same length as his beard. This guy was beautiful.

Then, to my shock and delight, this rather brazen little stud (I tend to think of those who are younger than me in diminutive terms no matter their physical size) had the nerve to propose A Deal that I could not resist taking up. At first, I was like 'Really? This young punk is trying to make A Deal, with me, The Dealmaker? He is way too cocky for his own good.' Nevertheless, I was all ears as he explained The Deal: "I will win by pinning your cock under mine and making you shoot. As I watch your face contort in ecstasy and compliance, I will not be able to stop myself from shooting my victory load on your beaten cock. Then you will extend an offer of employment to me...A generous offer...And I will bring my Key Account, the Ansaldi Account, over to Thoman with me. I will become a Thoman Man under your guidance, among other things."


Though my temperature was soaring and I really, really wanted to feel this dude's body against mine, I snapped back into my normally ultra competitive mode. That is when I resolved to put this challenge down quickly. He clearly thought himself in control of the situation. Only I am ever in control. I needed to teach him this. I would begin the lesson with a verbal counter that would break his spirit and begin to sow the seeds of self-doubt.

"You're on. Furthermore, when I win exactly the same way, all you need to do is introduce me to your client. Just a simple, brief introduction. I will handle the rest."

I watched his face closely. There! The eyes gave him away. I knew what he was thinking: "Maybe I am playing out of my league here...This guy just said he could take my client with just an introduction...He did not even offer to make me an employee at low cost...Not even a straight up insult by offering me to be an intern...Now I have to win just to save face...Have I misread this situation or did I just walk into a well-laid trap?"

Just before he could come to any conclusions, I got up from my stool and moved around the island to him. I pulled him up from his stool and into a full-frontal embrace. Always making sure to keep maximum cock contact, I looked into his eyes and allowed him to see mine soften and I took a deep breath and sighed. He then "knew" he really did have me "dialed in" and ready for his kill.

I undressed him on the yoga mats and took care to inhale discreetly as I removed his dress socks from his wingtips. The aroma of clean sweat and leather almost made me pop. In spite of my attempt at discretion, he noted my reaction to his feet and a slow smirk crossed his face. He would file that little tidbit away for future use.

My expectation about where I would find hair on his lithe body was spot on. Dark hairs on his toned pecs and down the treasure trail that cut a canyon between both halves of his defined abs. But I was most drawn to the fine black hairs on his legs as he flexed them and bounced up on his toes. I was captivated and he knew it. Did he have me dialed in after all?

He had bulged nicely in his bikini briefs but when I got them off of him I could see that his nicely cut, average girth 6.5 inches was not a size match for my thick 8 inches of cut slab. He had nice balls but they, too, were of average size whereas mine were a perfect match for my large-ish cock. He noticed this as he hurriedly undressed me and I watched his Adam's apple again give him away.

We stood for a moment about five feet apart watching each others' faces. Then we moved in toward each other. I raised and spread my arms inviting him to lock up hand-to-hand for a test of strength. He appeared to accept the challenge but within what could have only been an inch away from a mutual clinch, he dropped his arms and grabbed me about the waist and quickly took me down.

I was shocked. I felt stupid for allowing that to happen. Nevertheless, he was on top with his arms under me behind my back and he began a furious grind. Regaining my composure, I thrust upward to meet his grind. He quickly applied more pelvic strength and ground me down. This was not going to be easy...

Foolishly, he had left my arms free. I brought them around his back and prepared to squeeze. Just then, he made a sudden movement with his legs and put me into a crushing grapevine. He used just enough force with those strong legs of his to keep me immobilized without unleashing the extreme pain that such a hold can cause.

He thrust powerfully and kept my groin stretched to take full advantage. Looking now directly into my eyes, he asked me if I was enjoying the power of his legs as he dominated me. I was unable to speak. I wanted to just close my eyes and shut my ears so I could concentrate on holding myself together long enough to get out of the sudden situation that was clearly expected to finish me off quickly. If I could not mount any effective offense, I estimated that I would shoot my load within the next five minutes.

Just then: "Maybe I will let you work for me when I take your job after our next cockfight since this one is almost over...You know how to sell, right?..."

That brought me back around and cleared my head a little. That was a big no-no, Jim. It is one thing to talk trash but it is quite another to attempt to emasculate me professionally. Especially in my own bedroom.

It was time to put my worked-out arms to good use. I lifted my torso about six inches up off the floor. This freed Jim's arms as well, by design. I knew that he would now concentrate on using his arms to stop my progress and that would cause him to momentarily relax his legs. It went off as I had planned and I extracted my right leg while swinging my right arm over him and grabbing his right shoulder with my left arm to start to roll him over. His resistance was strong and I thought it might not work for a moment but onto his back he went. He moved his legs to attempt another grapevine from below, but this time I was ready and was able to keep my legs together as I assaulted his cock with mine which was now on top. I grabbed his hands and stretched his arms to his side and slightly above his head.

Into his ear I intoned hoarsely, "Do you feel that massive chest now, Jim? How about those balls smothering yours? Or that big cock grinding yours into submission? You know you do. Let go. Give in. I have you."

He attempted to thrash about and mounted an attempt at grinding upward forcefully at that but my weight was too much for him and I quickened my thrusts. And deepened them. Once I detected a low moan from him, more felt than heard, I spread my legs a little. I no longer feared him having the mental fortitude to go back to the grapevine. It was time to finish him.

30 seconds later, he had ceased any countergrinding. 10 seconds after that, his cock exploded. He expelled his breath in a rush but other than that did not make any noise while he came. I was impressed at this manly stoicism from one so young. I released his hands and lifted my torso so that I could watch him ejaculate while my cock still ground his. The sight of his beautiful, lithe, pale, lightly hairy body under mine was too much and it took me only another 5 seconds to shoot onto his cock. "Oh shhhiiitttt!!!!!!!!!" was all I could muster.

I rolled onto my back, shaking. That was too close. Unexpectedly close. I was afraid he would ask for a re-match. I did not think I could win another one with him being so sexy. For some reason, he pushed all the right buttons in me.

The introduction to Mr. Ansaldi was made over lunch a week after I conquered Jim. During the entire preceding week, Jim had made it clear repeatedly that he wanted a job and he would just bring his client over. I demurred repeatedly. I had already determined that I would take the client, not have it given to me. Jim was beginning to understand the situation and it was obvious that there was something deeper going on. He was a bit infatuated with me. I kept him at arm's length while teasing him about potentially coming aboard and hinting that we would need a rematch to decide things. He desperately wanted a rematch to decide the matter, but I could not afford to have one until I had already taken Ansaldi. I really was nervous about being taken by Jim in a rematch.

Over the following month, Jim was becoming surly and bad-tempered. Apparently, I had broken him with my stalling tactics. The distraction that I had created inside him caused him to pay less attention to his star client. I was conveniently there to pay the bill for lunch and entertainment for Ansaldi whenever Jim didn't. I was relentless in my pursuit of this client. I managed to pull the Ansaldi Account away after three months.

Jim quit Simi in shame the day it happened but not before dropping a dime on me to his boss, Morgan Thaler, the Head of Sales for Simi.

The day Jim quit, I invited him over for dinner at my place. I got us both rather drunk and out came the confessions. After telling me that he was interested in me, he told me he needed some time away and would go to see his parents for a few weeks before deciding what to do. He asked if he could call me. "Any time, Jim, for anything," was my response. Chapter closed. I had gotten what I wanted and did not really expect to ever hear from Jim again.

I wondered if being a cold-blooded bastard was going to come back on me one day.



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