June 8th
The weekend passed in a hazy masturbatory blur but by Monday I had a spring in my step as I made my way to my Best Job Ever.
There were flashing ambulance lights in front of the tower as I approached. Tommy the Intern had a bloody nose and was strapped onto a gurney like a giant Hannibal Lecter as two paramedics and six big firefighters tried to lift his huge mass into the vehicle.
“What happened to him?” I asked Brody, who was standing watch. His hard tattooed pec was showing through a big rip in his polo shirt like he’d been in a scuffle.
“Freaked out at the security gate when his card didn’t work. Apparently he’s been fired.”
“Get you, Jeffy…” I heard Tommy mumble as he drooled open mouthed onto his straightjacket. The EMS couldn’t quite fit his shoulders through the door so one of them was unscrewing the side grip bars to make more room.
“I wrestled with him for a bit while they called 911 for backup. No skills, that dude.”
“Honestly, youth today.”
“So while I’m ragdolling him around the lobby, trying to find a position for a chokehold so I could end it, the police show up. Their taser just made him madder and stronger so I had to unleash the big guns.”
He brought his arms up in a boxer’s stance, his Marine muscle flexing into powerful cannonballs. Two twinks coming out of the Starbucks both gasped and dropped their iced coffees.
Brody mimed some jabs and one-twos as he continued the story: “Eventually he went slack enough for the paramedics to get a needle in him. Shame though. Don’t like to beat on dudes who don’t know how to defend themselves. Where’s the challenge?”
I looked over at the unfolding scene with the ambulance. They managed to get him in the back finally, but then the whole vehicle sank. With a tremendous BANG all four tires blew out.
Karl walked up, dwarfing the EMS guys as they scratched their heads.
“Coulda used you twenty minutes ago, big guy,” Brody grinned.
Karl shrugged. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He winked at me. “But maybe they could use my help now.” He strode over to the befuddled group and I got a hard-on imagining him picking up the back end of the thing and wheelbarrowing it to the hospital. But instead he just gave them the number of a veterinarian who had a horse ambulance. When he walked back, I jokingly told him of my fantasy.
“I mean sure,” he said. “But I don't want to waste more of my day on that asshole.”
“Amen to that, bro.” Brody said, clapping him on his huge lats as they both turned back to the lobby.
I followed behind them, marveling at how thoroughly Tommy had trashed the security gate. The security guard, who was barely bigger than I was, gushed at Brody. “Thank you, sir, I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t here.” Brody nodded at him, then spoke to us after we passed.
“Died. He would have died. Where do they get these guys, the Coast Guard?”
When we stepped out of the elevator, Rich, a CrossFit guy who was the HR lead, cornered Brody and Karl to get the details of what happened. Karl gave me his Tupperware collection for the break room fridge and I offered to take Brody’s too.
“Dude, I don’t bring a lunch.”
“You buy your lunch?” He gave me a look. “Oh!” I said.
As I walked down the hall, My boner came back thinking about how Brody couldn’t stand in the concourse food court for more than five minutes before someone offered to buy his lunch.
As I approached the break room, once again I was stopped in my tracks by the sound of voices. I crouched and cupped my ear to listen. I recognized the boom of big Trevante, who always listened quietly in meetings and then would announce his thoughts in two or three loud words with his commanding basso profundo. I could also hear Kyle, our basketball expert and Hamza, our junior accountant who was far sexier than an accountant had any right to be.
Kyle said: “What the damn hell is going on around here lately, brothers?”
“What do you mean, Pride Month?” asked Hamza.
“Naw, man, Pride Month’s cool. I got like, three cousins who’re gay or trans.”
“So what then?”
“All these dudes going around trying to prove their manhood by making the new guy cum in his pants?”
“WHITE NONSENSE.” Trevante pronounced. The other two burst out laughing.
“Oh snap! Someone had to say it!” Kyle guffawed. “You do it yet, Hamz?”
“Please. Like I have to prove my manhood to any of these guys. I’m Turkish, bro. I emasculated ten white boys on the subway this morning just by standing next to them.”
“I don’t even get what the rules are,” Kyle said. “Like you have to do it with flexing? My game is way too smooth for that corny shit.”
“And are we even allowed to fuck him?” Hamza asked.
I heard Kyle spit out his coffee at the same time as my hard cock burped a glob of pre. “Bro—what??”
“I’m just saying. What’s in it for me if I don’t get to fuck him?”
“Bro, that’s gay,” Kyle coughed.
Hamza tsked. “Man, read a book. It’s not gay if you’re the top.”
“I’m sure Banner never said anything about that one way or the other.”
“Banner…” Hamza trailed off. And the room got quiet. “He’s a solid dude,” he finished, with genuine warmth in his voice.
“He’d do anything for you, that Banner. Absolute stud, body and soul.”
The room went silent again as the three men sipped their coffee. Then Trevante spoke again:
“NOW HIM I’D FUCK.”
As the break room erupted with side-splitting laughter, I turned away, and smacked my head on the pecs of Luís, our tech support lead, who was standing behind me the whole time.
“Ow?” I said, partly in pain, partly in surprise that human flesh could be that hard.
“Poor Jeffito,” Luís tutted. “You hurt yourself spying on mis amigos?”
I looked up from his bulbous chest to his soft dark eyes.
“Luís,” I swallowed. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Please don’t tell the others.”
“We bargaining, Jeffito? Then we do so, mano a mano.” His big hands lifted me, sliding my body up the wall four inches until our eyes were even. Then he flexed, pinning my body against the wall with those boulder pecs.
“See Jeffito,” Luís said, putting his hands at his side, and cocking his head. “Just two men having a conversation.”
“Sure…” I said, not convinced that’s what it looked like as I wiggled my toes to see if they could reach the floor. They couldn’t. Luís’ face was so close to mine I could see the individual bristles of his spectacular pornstache.
“So what can you offer if I keep your little secret, hombrecito?”
What have gay men had to offer macho straight dudes since time immemorial? I brought the side of my fist to my mouth and pushed my tongue into my cheek in the universal blowjob gesture.
“Ay. Jeffito wants to play with fire,” Luís said, his face a mask.
Oh shit, I thought. I overstepped. It always worked with Irish Catholics. Put that on my tombstone.
“Let’s see if he can take the heat.” Luís inflated his chest in a deep breath and I felt my ribcage creak. He moved his lips closer to mine and for a paralyzing moment I thought he was going to kiss me. Then he opened his lips wider and his hot, sweet breath enveloped my face. Red capillaries spread across my cheeks as I flushed, the redness and warmth spreading down my neck and across my chest, then all over my body. As the heatwave rolled over my muscles, I started jerking in myoclonic tics, emitting little gasps of pleasure, a wriggling insect pinned by Luís’ impregnable pecs. When his lungs finally emptied their humid nectar into my soul, he relaxed his flex and I melted down the wall like goo. Davey passed us as I twitched in a breathless, boneless pile of sated need at Luís’ feet.
“Geez Lou-eeze,” he drawled. “You give him a chick-gasm? Stop showing off.”
Luís ignored him, putting a hand in his pocket which drew my attention to his luscious bulge. He dropped a pager in my lap.
“Consider yourself on call, Jeffito.”
Cont.
