June 4
After the break room episode with Karl, things got a little turbo-charged at the office in the last two days of the first week. Dudes were flexing in my direction at every opportunity. Delivery boys tripped over dumbbells and exercise bands that the cubicle bros brought in to get a pump between meetings.
The competition for my attention became fierce. By this time Banner had spread the news of the boss’ ‘orders’, as he (poorly) understood them, to everyone.
I was flirting with baseball stud Gabe in the hallway and his stubbled jawline and deep sexy voice had me as hard as a Louisville Slugger, when suddenly his bro reflexes kicked in, catching a bomb of a football pass right in the chest. His arms and chest bulged nicely through his button-down but the momentum of the powerful throw forced him three steps back. A hand on my shoulder pulled me around and handsome Mitch blinded me with his kilowatt smile. He whispered “Gotcha!” wetly into my ear, bounced his hard lean pecs beneath his polo shirt and that was it for my first cum of the day. He rubbed my face into the deep muscle cleft while I convulsed into my briefs, but he rubbed Gabe’s face in the victory. “Stolen base, bro,” he smirked. “Totally legit.”
Gabe shook his head and stared daggers at him. “When you least expect it, bro. When. You. Least. Expect. It.” He threatened as he walked off.
Mitch didn’t have long to wait. Gabe was a do-er. That afternoon I walked into the supply closet and found him stripped to the waist with Mitch struggling to get out of a side headlock.
“Baseball players are stronger than football players. Say it!”
“Fuck… you…!” Mitch croaked.
Gabe looked at me as I hastily closed and locked the door. “What do you think, Jeffy? Are baseball players stronger than football players?” Gabe’s torso was a tornado of ripped shit-kicking muscle as he flexed his abs, pecs, biceps, delts and traps to control the taller and heavier Mitch.
“I mean—“ I started. Gabe was making an excellent case!
Mitch grunted out the words as he pawed at the unforgiving ball of muscle flexing into the side of his skull. “It’s not… objectively… true…”
Gabe considered this as he pulled on his own wrist to crank the headlock tighter. “HHHHHMMMM! So Jeffy, Mitch here is concerned that my statement is not consistent with the available evidence. You’re a scientist. You tell me how we could go about proving such a thing.”
I was a computer scientist, not an exercise physiologist, but It seemed at this point all that was needed was someone with eyes. Gabe’s pecs started to separate into three horizontal speed bumps shot thru with veins as they pumped to the max.
“I… I guess if you could hold him with one arm?”
“What a smart idea, Jeffy! I knew there was a reason you are Employee of the Month. Gabe let go of his wrist and nodded at the bulge in my dress slacks. “As a reward, you can take it out and jack it.”
I didn’t need to be asked twice. I started undoing my belt.
Gabe kicked Mitch’s legs out from under him and shifted his left arm so that Mitch’s neck was in the crook of his elbow.
“Come on, bro. Say it. Baseball players are stronger than football players.” With his free hand he started lightly slapping Mitch’s reddening face. “Say it.”
“No…” Mitch gurgled as I moaned, pulling my dick, slick with pre, out of my underwear and fisting it.
“Not even flexing bro.” Slap. “You punking out against my one arm?” Slap. “My left arm, even?” Slap. “Not even a southpaw, bro. You’ve seen me pitch.”
I was close. Real close.
“Say it, bro.”
“Ugh, no…”
Slap. “Say it.”
“…”
Gabe waved me closer as he started flexing his hard round biceps into Mitch’s carotid artery.
“Bro, you better say it. You pass out before saying it, you’re gonna wake up with Employee of the Month cum on your face.”
That did it. Mitch tapped his hand on Gabe’s arm in the universal sign of submission. Gabe relaxed his arm and Mitch croaked out: “Baseball players are stronger than football players.”
“What’s that, Mitch the Bitch?”
“BASEBALL PLAYERS ARE STRONGER THAN FOOTBALL PLAYERS!”
He released the hold and Mitch fell at his feet, coughing.
Gabe winked at me as I was fractionally away from nutting. “So you say, but I think Jeffy here still isn’t convinced.”
With a grunt and a heave, Gabe gorilla pressed Mitch over his head, then THREW him at the ceiling where he bounced off the tile and landed on the top shelf of the storage unit.
“Always rack your weights,” Gabe joked.
I spewed my spunk all over Gabe’s powerful chest and collapsed to my knees. My cheek grazed his wiry treasure trail as I fell against his abs.
When I caught my breath I looked up at him he grinned over the bulges of his massively pumped pecs. “Home run, Jeffy!”
Then his face turned dark and I felt my asspucker quiver.
“Now lick this shit off.”
Next: Casual Friday
