Upon graduation with a degree in accounting, I was hired by my father to run the payroll department of his construction firm. It had grown from a small three man team into a extremely profitable enterprise employing more than two hundred people.
I'd grown up on his work sights, getting to know many of the workers, watching them create massive structures brick by brick or girder by girder. I'd watch in awe as they'd climb to 50 stories in the air, sometimes teetering on the edge of a building. I'd come home all excited and my mother would admonish my father for letting me witness what she perceived to be 'dangerous and frightening visuals for such a young child.'
My mother died when I was ten, leaving my father to raise me as best he could. He tried leaving me with various babysitters, but eventually his paternal instincts took over and I became a permanent part of the crew, wearing a custom made hardhat with the name 'Squirt' on it. The other team members watched over me like big brothers, and I became very close to many of them, saddened when they decided to leave to take other positions, or, on a more somber note, when accidents occurred that took them away permanently.
When I turned 18 the entire crew gave me a huge birthday party, complete with a cake made in the shape of a skyscraper. My father bought me a car, and the guys detailed it, installed a killer sound system, and each of them chipped in money towards my tuition.
The day I arrived back I was welcomed with open arms by the senior members of the crew. Rusty, a thirty year veteran, met me at the office door and locked me into a bear hug.
'Well, looky who's back.' He was from Arkansas and possessed a thick accent. 'You're all growed up now'.
'Yes, I am, Rusty. It's good to be back.'
'Hey, Rusty, where do you want this load to go?' A tall, well built middle aged man in a plaid shirt, dust covered jeans, work boots, a hard hat walked up to the trailer, looking in my direction with a smile.
'Over near the other pile. Mike, meet Casey Randall. He's the son of our boss, Jeff. Casey, Mike Petroni.' I extended my hand in greeting and he gripped it with his gloved paw.
Mike stood about 6'4, with broad shoulders, ice blue eyes, a neatly trimmed beard peppered with grey. He was tanned and reminded me of a very young Jeffrey Hunter, one of my favorite movie stars. His beauty was blinding, and I returned his smile with one of my own.
'Nice to meet you Mr. Petroni'. Mike kept my hand in his grip and growled, 'Mr. Petroni was my father. Call me Mike'.
'Ok, Mike. Well, I need to get inside and start my day. Rusty, Mike, talk to you later.'. I headed inside the trailer and my father was sitting at his desk, staring intently at a set of blueprints. When he looked up and saw me, he immediately stood up and ran over to me, enveloping me in a bear hug.
'Casey! Oh, son, it's good to have you home. Damn it, why didn't you tell me you were here?'
'I wanted to surprise you. I know i'm not supposed to start until tomorrow, but I wanted to come in a day early. I know things have changed.'
'Well, we are computerized now', my father chuckled. 'It took an audit from the IRS to change my way of payrolling. Well, let's get you started then, shall we?' He handed me over to Tracey, a perky young woman who was leaving to have her third child.
'It's time for me to be a stay at home mom. Your dad's been good to me'. She showed me the ropes, all the necessary tricks and schematics of the system. and told me if I had any questions to call her.
The job went well, working long hours, making sure everything was exactly to the penny. My father and I became closer than ever, and I also renewed some new friendships with the crew, including Mike. He was very friendly towards me, cracking jokes, sometimes eating lunch with me.
I'd found out he was from South Philly, and grew up without a mother, since she had died in childbirth. His father was a cold hearted man, and he'd left home at 18, joined the Navy and came home to marriage, divorce and three kids, whom he'd not seen since his wife gained custody of them
On Fridays I'd stay late to make sure all of the workers had their paychecks, and wouldn't leave until the last one received theirs. My father would leave early so he could get a start on his weekend, usually taking a trip to a lake with some fishing buddies. Mike would always be the last to get his paycheck, and we'd talk for hours, even going out to dinner, and going back to his place to talk more over a bottle of wine. Sometimes I'd fall asleep on his couch, and wake up the next day, covered with a quilt. Occasionally he'd make breakfast for us, and we'd sit and have coffee, just shooting the breeze. It was easy to talk to him, since he was like a big brother to me. I enjoyed his company, and looked forward to the times that we had together.
I knew I was feeling something towards him, but kept it to myself, not wanting to reveal my true feelings, in case they weren't reciprocated. I was working around some rugged men, some who'd not take too kindly to a 'fag' in their midst. And if my father found out, I wasn't sure how he'd take it.
It was late Friday afternoon, close to six, as I began wrapping up the last of my paperwork. Dad had left hours before, and everyone else had gone home. Mike walked in, covered in dust, his blue chambray work shirt opened to the middle, revealing a thick, curly coating of dark hair. Across his cheek was a fresh cut, with blood trickling down his face.
'What happened to you?' I exclaimed, pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet.
'Damned beam. I turned too fast and it hit me in the face. It's nothing.' He sat on the edge of the desk as I put some iodine on a cotton swab.
'It's gonna sting a bit.' I reached up and applied it to the open wound. He didn't even flinch.
'You need to be more careful out there. Don't want you getting hurt.' I started to apply more iodine when he put his hand around my wrist. I stopped and looked at him. His eyes were filled with a look of wonder and tenderness, and he let go of my wrist and reached up, gently stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.
'There's something on your lips, Casey'. Our eyes met and he leaned in and gently pressed his mouth to mine. I drew away from him, unsure of how to respond to his approach. Yes, I did like him, but this was sudden.
'Why did you do that?' I asked.
'Because I wanted to. Do you mind?' He flashed me a cheshire cat smile and I shook my head.
'No. I don't mind.' I leaned back in and he pulled me to him, parting my lips with his tongue. I pulled off his hat and wrapped my arms around his muscular frame, running my hands through his thick mane of salt and pepper hair.
He stood up and walked over, locked the door to the trailer and returned to my side. Once again, he took me in his massive arms, and this time, laid me on the floor. He began to undress me, and when he'd gotten down to my boxers, he covered my body with his and kissed me again. His lips began to explore my naked frame, his tongue finding places i'd only thought about reaching. I arched my back in response to his touches, his kisses, reveling in each moment that I felt his warmth against my flesh.
He took my swollen member in his mouth and I felt it go deep into his throat, taking the entire shaft like a sword swallower. I cried out, reaching down and tugging at his shirt. He removed his shirt and pants, and stripped down to his bright red jock strap, and continued his exploration of me.
I felt myself leaking precum, and he licked it greedily. As I felt it rise in my system, ready to spew forth, he told me, 'I don't want you to cum yet. I want to take you and be inside of you when you are ready.' With that, he turned me over and spread my ass cheeks, burying his hirsute face into my crack. His tongue flicked in and out, as I squealed for him to fuck me. I wanted his massive cock inside of me.
Standing me up, he pressed me against the desk, my ass facing his, and he spat upon his cock. Stroking the large, veined member, he drew close to me and pushed the mushroom head inside my asshole. I breathed in, surprised at first at his hugeness, then waited for a moment until the rest of him was buried deep inside of me.
His balls slapped against my ass as he fucked me, his big, meaty paws wrapped around my chest, working my long, tapered nipples.
'Stroke it for me, Casey. Stroke that dick for Mike'. I began to jerk furiously as his fingers kneaded my chest like raw dough. I threw my head back and he stuck his tongue inside of my ear, heightening the experience.
'I'm gonna cum', I exclaimed. He dug in further and with a massive groan, I spewed forth a stream of man juice across the office, landing all over the desk, walls, even the papers I'd been working on.
He pulled out of me and jerked on his own meat, grunting and pressing his hands to me as I felt his gizz landing upon my back, ass cheeks.
When we'd finished, we turned to each other and stood there, sweating, breathless. I reached over and gently touched Mike on the face. He took me in his arms, and kissed me passionately once again.
'You know we have to keep this a secret. No one can know what we've done here today,' I said in a matter of fact voice. He shot me a puzzled look.
'Today? I want to see on a regular basis, Casey. I don't want this to be a one time thing. I need you.' Inside of me, everything seemed to soften and melt like butter. It was what I wanted as well, but I wasn't sure of how to tell him.
'I need you too, Mike. I just didn't know how to tell you how I felt.'
'I've known for awhile. I guess I didn't either. But now that i've got you, i'm not letting you go. You're mine.' We embraced again and pulled on our clothes and headed to his apartment, where we spent the weekend, getting down and dirty. We knew when Monday came along, it would all be business, but on the weekends, we'd always get down to business.