A Beta in Public Affairs

I know Gaydemon readers like one-off stories rather than multiple chapters. So I tried to write a one-off story, and failed. This is the first part of a story in two chapters. Inevitably there's more of the build up in this one and more of the fucking will come in Chapter 2. But stick with this first part, it'll make Chapter 2 much hotter! Cheers Tom

Public affairs - helping big companies lobby governments - is a pretty gay business. It's basically just managing gossip, and gay guys are good at that.

I've worked in London for one of the biggest global public affairs agencies - lets call it XYPA - for a decade, and I've done well at it. It's a global business. Today I'm travelling to Alberta in Canada to meet one of my favourite clients. Travelling with me is one of my least favourite colleagues.

The client company - lets call it YZA Components - makes parts for Alberta's oil industry. It's really too small a client for me, a senior manager, to be working on. But I like having it as a client because every time I travel out to see him, the boss, Andrew, fucks me. 

On the plane to Calgary I'm mostly dozing, letting myself get hard thinking about the sessions I've had over the years with Andrew. I've been going out to YZA Components about twice a year for the past decade. When we met, Andrew was a well-hung, big guy in his early thirties; I'm about eight years younger. Today, in his forties, Andrew has even more bulk and muscle, combined with more charm. His big dick goes as well as ever. Though his blond hair is mixed with grey, he's just got hotter.

Andrew is definitely one of the best guys I get to fuck. In my plane seat, I let myself remember the sessions with Andrew: the weight of him on top of me, thrusting, grunting and sweating; the sense of his wide, veiny dick pulsing deep inside me as he shoots; the feel of his cum trickling out of my well stretched hole after he's finished. And I think about sucking him: the feel of struggling to fit that fat cock in my mouth. The fact he likes to shoot in my face: I think about scraping thick strands of his warm cum off my cheeks, licking clean the broad head and shaft of his cock to get all the rest.

I'm happily, sleepily going through this in my head, letting my hand rub a bit at my dick through my pants under my aeroplane blanket when I suddenly wake up and a wave of bitterness sweeps over me. I can't keep thinking happy thoughts about Andrew because, after this trip, its all going to end.

The colleague I'm travelling with, the one I don't like, is Ferdy, a whining little 24 year old who my director thinks is the next big thing for our company. Ferdy is good at his job in a cocky, inexperienced sort of a way. But the director's enthusiasm isn't just for Ferdy's public affairs skills. It has as much to do with the boy's perfect twink looks: he's Mediterranean looking, short with dark hair, a pretty face, a slightly muscled chest and perfect round arse. So this trip my director is rewarding Ferdy with his first proper client, a smaller business for him to get experience with. I've been told I have to hand over to Ferdy MY client, YZA Components. And all the way on this plane flight all I can think is that I'm also handing over Andrew. He's a big guy, a proper top, and there's no way he's not going to want to fuck Ferdy.

Off the plane and into an upscale Calgary business hotel. I'm standing looking at myself in the hotel room mirror. I was a twink once. I had a bubble butt, a mostly smooth chest and a cute, boyish face. Though I'm quite tall the package worked. But I'm 34 now. A few years ago I started working out to keep the weight off and, as the muscle has built up, now my bum is just slabs of worked out glutes. That smoothish chest has been replaced by bush of chest hair that just kept on growing through my 20s. My face is thinner, and harder. I think sadly - again - about Ferdy's perfect butt. I also think about the last two times with Andrew. They were good, but I could tell he wasn't as into me as he had been before.

An OK sleep and a decent breakfast, and now Ferdy and I are going into the first meeting of the visit with Andrew. Ferdy tries to get me out of this meeting. On the way, he tells me, "Mark I'm well prepared, I know my stuff, I'm not sure you're going to add too much. It's your last visit to Calgary: why don't you go and have a walk round, have a coffee."

He carries on, "I'm sure I'm going to get on with Andrew."

I've seen Ferdy looking hard at photos of Andrew on the YZA website on the way over. I'm not surprised he thinks they're going to get on.

"Perhaps it's best if he and I have the first meeting one-on-one," he says.

I just ignore him, stride into the meeting room, dump my laptop on a desk.

A few minutes later, the room literally darkens as Andrew's massive frame fills the doorway. He smiles at us in that warm, all-enveloping way than somehow only a wholesome, big, blond Canadian guy can manage. As always when I first see him, I'm briefly lost in my admiration. It's not only his looks. Andrew's probably the only proper Alpha I've ever met. He's built up his own, substantial, business from scratch. In the masculine world of the oil industry, he's open about who he likes to fuck, men and women. He's got an amazing home and a beautiful wife, who - he says - he doesn't lie to.

From my point of view this meeting starts to go well: Ferdy is being a asshole. Andrew's got that Western male attitude, he doesn't like to be rushed. He also likes it be always, quietly recognised that he's in charge, paying the bills. So, as I watch, Ferdy, with absurd Gen Z confidence, goes straight in to telling Andrew what's going to happen now he's running the public affairs show. Who Andrew's going to meet, what jobs Andrew has to give to YZA's marketing director, how Ferdy's going to be in all the key online discussions. He talks all the time. 

The only time Ferdy pauses is when Andrew, manspreading, scratches the visible heavy bulge of his crotch a couple of times. Each time that happens, Ferdy flusters, stumbles and unthinkingly reaches round his own waist to touch his ass, before getting going with the lecture again.

It's a morning-long meeting. When Ferdy's gone to the toilet, I raise my eyebrows to Andrew. 

"Sorry." I say. I explain a bit about what's going on in XYPA, why the young man's running the show.

Andrew, smiles, fixes me with his deep blue-green eyes, "Yeah he's annoying but he's just being young and keen.. ..and cute."

"You were like that the first time I met you," he says. 

I try not to let that sting.

I take the advantage of Ferdy being out of the room to pin Andrew down a bit. "Are we meeting up this evening? After the dinner?" We have to dine some public official at the hotel: that's partly why Ferdy and I have come.

Andrew pauses only slightly, "Sure Mark," he says. 

"Like always."

"Just," I babble on, "Ferdy's hot and he's up for it with you for sure. I don't mind if you'd rather...."

Andrew smiles, and interrupts, "Relax, Mark, I'll rent a room in your hotel. We're good. I'll see you there at 11pm sharp."

I breathe a sigh of relief that I'm going to get one last fuck with Andrew before I fully hand YZA over to Ferdy. Of course Andrew's going to screw Ferdy, but at least it won't be this visit, when I'm around.

Evening arrives and we're having the dinner with the provincial government officer who holds the keys to a big land deal for YZA. Ferdy strides in front of me to the table. He's either wearing a jock or no underwear, and his trousers are so tight you can see not just his round butt, but even his arse crack - Christ, you can practically see his hole. 

Ferdy sits down, positioning himself between Andrew and the government guy. Just like in this morning's meeting, he proceeds to mess things up. The idea of a dinner like this is that we thoroughly brief Andrew in advance and let Andrew himself do he talking, cut the deal. Ferdy and I are just there to let the guest see that YZA Components has brought in international advisors. But that's not what happens. Instead, every time Andrew starts to talk, Ferdy interrupts, "Well actually Andrew, I think you'll find the provincial administration.." and injects a stream of facts and his own ideas.

I idly watch it all fall apart but I don't really care any more. I just sit at the end of the table drinking white wine with Jeanne, YZA's marketing lady. At the close of the dinner, government guy is cold. "Thank you, Andrew," he says. He nods at Ferdy, "Mr Gonzalez.. I'll reflect on what you've said." This is not a success.

All I can think about is that it's 10:30. In half an hour I'll be in a room with Andrew, and 15 mins after that I'll be on the bed with my ass in the air, his long, fat dick poking at my hole. I wonder a bit what he's got in store for me beyond just a fuck. 

Andrew lets me into his room at exactly 11pm. His shirt's off and as always I'm dazzled by his Apollo-like torso: his immense shoulders, the muscular stomach that's just slightly beyond flat, the thick blond pelt of chest hair, the wide pecs decorated on one side with a large tattoo in elaborate, tasteful homage to his hockey team.

But as I drag my eyes off his chest I see that there's a look of fury on his face. And, with a shock I also see Ferdy, stood in the corner of the room, looking as surprised to see me as I am to see him.

"Yes you're both here." Andrew says coldly. 

"You have precisely five seconds to get over that." 

I start to say something, to complain, but a further glance at Andrew's face silences me.

"That was a fucking disaster," Andrew says after a pause, referring to the business dinner.

He looks at Ferdy. "You, you little bitch, you need to learn your place." Ferdy looks shocked now, not just at my presence, but at how Andrew - who's been polite all day - is now speaking to him.

And Andrew looks at me, "And Mark, you need to grow up. You're supposed to be my friend. Doesn't matter what your company wants; I needed your help, needed you to rein this boy in."

Andrew looks genuinely hurt. I feel terrible.

"So here's what's happening. For the next little while, in this hotel room, you're both going to learn some lessons. And at the end of it we're all going to have a better working relationship." 

He looks over at Ferdy, "You ok with that, boy? I'm guessing you still want this dick?" He squeezes the fat outline of his penis through his pants.

Ferdy says nothing, nods. 

Andrew carries on, "Quiet. That's good. While we're in this room, Ferdy, all I want to hear from you is, "Thank you sir." And, if you must, if you think you can't take it, you can say "I quit," or if you're mouth's full, wiggle your fingers or toes or something."

"But if you tell me you want to quit at any stage this evening, at any stage, I won't just stop fucking you tonight. That'll be it for XYPA and me. I'm guessing you don't want to go back to London to tell them you lost your first client on your first trip."

"No, sir," says Ferdy quietly. 

I doubt the kid has ever called anyone 'sir' before in his life. It's actually hot seeing him humiliated like this.

"Now stand over there and wait until I'm ready for you," Andrew says.

Andrew turns to me, "Mark, you come with me." 

He leads me into the bathroom and shuts the door.

"Strip," he orders me. 

Eagerly, I obey.

He stands looking at me, at my own hairy chest that I guess is quite a bit more muscular than last time he saw me six months ago. He points me to the mirror. 

"Mark," he says, "Look at yourself. You're a man. You need to stop with this irresponsible bottom boy bullshit. It's embarrassing."

I don't know what to say. 

He carries on. "This is what's going to happen. You're not getting fucked. You're not going to suck my dick. You're going out there with me, and we're going to put Ferdy in his place, together."