The next few days at work were amazing.
had a meeting — more of a grilling — with Dylan and Angela that lasted almost two hours.
She actually smiled and said, "I really think you would be good for Dylan and the bank. You are more analytical and, together as his assistant, I think you can only help us achieve our business objectives, but within budget and time restraints. I'm sure Dylan has some projects he needs you on, straight away. I’ll be keeping an eye on you!” Great!
I was offered a substantial increase in salary with an Audi A4.
I shook her hand, but she pulled me in for a kind of hug. Odd!
I froze, but I think that was her way of saying Well done!
Estates were already working on my office, dividing up the meeting room, and the contracts were signed.
My title was Assistant to the Sales Director.
As the days passed, I had a few messages from Matty.
Very short.
"Shattered. Going for dinner with the team, then crashing."
Then, on Wednesday:
"Shattered. Still okay for Friday?"
I replied:
"Yes, all good. Jx"
Dylan cancelled our lunch on Thursday, but he was booked back to back.
We had plenty of time to chat about work and never talked about what had happened on Monday night.
I kind of preferred it that way, and I'm sure he preferred the odd glance rather than some screaming gay confessing his love for a married guy who had just got him a huge promotion.
I had to tell Rachel, and I wasn't looking forward to it.
So I invited her round for a takeaway on Thursday evening.
We ordered pizza and, before it arrived, I spilled everything over a glass of wine.
I was taken aback.
She was thrilled for me and said I deserved it.
She said what Dylan had told me was true.
My knowledge.
Being analytical.
Having a good rapport with the senior management team.
And that I deserved it.
"Although stop the crush thing," she added. "It's not healthy."
I agreed one hundred per cent.
We spent the rest of the evening watching a film of my choice.
The Holiday. Easygoing and slushy.
Friday at work was odd.
The hammering and drilling continued for my new office.
I finished writing the advert for the new vacancy and knocked on Dylan's door so he could give it the once-over.
"Hi, Jake. Sit down."
"Did you sign off the vacancy?"
"Yes. All fine. It's with HR now."
"Got any plans for tonight, Dylan?"
"Yes. We've got the neighbours round for supper. I haven't met them yet, but Sally wants to welcome them to the close."
"Very nice," I said, smiling and nodding.
“No, boring! How about you, Jake?"
"Oh... seeing a friend."
"Oh yeah?"
There.
I got it.
I saw something in his eyes.
I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was different.
"Is this a new friend or an old friend?"
"New friend," I said.
"He's invited me round for dinner."
I blurted it out.
Why did I say that?
"Oh, nice."
Dylan got up and sat on the desk in front of me, crossing one leg over the other.
I twitched.
"How's the sock?"
"It's awesome," I replied.
"I suppose it's starting to run out of smell now?"
"It is a little, yes."
"Well, we'll have to see what I can do about that, but it's about time I booked you in, as my feet need your attention."
Okay...
Now I was hard.
He was sliding his finger in and out of his loafer, and I was aching to suck it.
"As you know, I'm away from Monday to Wednesday in our Brussels office. I'll definitely need a foot treatment after traveling."
"I've left you some hedge fund details to look over and some more possible mergers. If you could look at them, perhaps we could talk them through on Wednesday night."
"But your flight isn't due in until 7 p.m., Dylan."
"I know, but I've booked a room at the Hilton Bournemouth for us, Jake... or should I say, Slut."
He winked.
I blushed.
My dick was so hard when I stood up I didn't bother trying to hide it, and he saw it.
"I'll look forward to that very much, Sir."
"So will I, Slut... and it looks as though you already are."
"Now I have a call to make."
"Well done on the recruitment advert."
"We'll interview them together."
"Have a great weekend, Dylan."
"You too, Jake."
I got back to my desk.
I could feel the pre-cum in my trunks.
As I walked over, Rachel giggled.
"If those trousers were any tighter..."
She was right.
They were tight.
I wanted to show off my bum as best as I could.
Slut.
But I really thought foot and sock worship was as far as a married man would go.
Thank God for that.
I'd be working much more closely with him now in a higher position, so I had to be 100% professional.
And I had been.
Always.
Except for wanking over his socks for an entire weekend.
New Chapter
The last hour dragged.
I said my goodbyes and headed for the gym.
It's horrible when you haven't been for two weeks.
Not only do you feel physically weaker, but I know the die-hards think, Oh, he's back again. Why bother? He hardly ever comes...
I got changed and went in.
The usual blast of air-conditioned air, loud dance music and scantily clad, ultra-toned, fit people working out.
I started with the treadmill.
Just thirty minutes.
Fuck, it was hard work.
I was thinking about Matty.
How to play it.
Were we going to have a repeat performance?
What would he cook?
After the treadmill, I went home.
I didn't shower there.
I never did.
I preferred my own shower, and it meant less to carry.
I walked the twenty-minute journey home, my head spinning about tonight, when my phone buzzed.
Matty.
"Hey Jake. Still okay for tonight? Doing pasta and meatballs. That okay with you?"
Perfect. My favorite, I replied.
"I'll bring a bottle. See you at 8."
I slipped into my apartment, put on Spotify, and headed for the shower.
I washed away not only the sweat from the gym, but the week I'd had at the bank.
I wanted to really relax tonight and have fun.
I'd had my hair cut and styled within an inch of its life on Wednesday, so I'd be ready for tonight.
Dylan hadn't noticed.
Or, if he had, he'd never said.
Stop it, I thought.
It's Matty night.
Forget work.
Forget Dylan, I said out loud.
I got ready with half an hour to spare.
Fitted dark denim jeans.
A fitted black shirt.
A pair of green Adidas trainers.
I looked good.
I felt good.
I poured myself a large glass of wine and remembered my aftershave.
AMen by Mugler.
There.
I slugged the wine back and called a taxi, stopping off at Waitrose on the way for a nice bottle of dry white.
Fuck... I feel nervous now, I thought as I stepped out of the taxi.
Matty had a small Victorian terrace in a not-so-nice part of Bournemouth that he was renovating before selling on.
Bournemouth, like many seaside towns, had started to decline over the years.
I rang the bell and took in a deep breath.
"Wow, you scrub up well," he said loudly, his eyes looking very excited by what he saw.
"So do you," I said.
He laughed.
"Haven't had time to get changed yet. I was late getting back. I've got the sauce simmering for the pasta. Come on in. Make yourself at home and have a look round. Excuse the place, it's a bit like a builder's site, but the bedroom is comfortable, and I have a cooker and a table. I'm just going to jump in the shower, then I'll be down."
"Oh, and put the wine in the fridge, please."
Well, Matty was right.
All the walls were back to plaster, with bags of building materials and tools all over the floor.
The house had lovely high ceilings, nice skirting boards and great fireplaces in every room.
I found the kitchen, which was retro to say the least.
It didn't look as though anyone had touched it since the sixties.
I loved that era. Retro.
I put the wine in the fridge and stirred the sauce.
It smelled great.
It was, I presumed, a seventies cooker. I recalled my gran having one like it.
It was clean though, and he'd laid the old sixties Formica table.
Within minutes he was downstairs.
He hadn't dried his hair or put on moisturiser.
Jeans, a white T-shirt and trainers.
Not a lot different to mine, but blue.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked.
"Sure. Thought you'd never ask. Come here then."
He opened his arms.
His biceps were big, and his pecs and nipples showed through his white T-shirt.
We stood there looking at each other.
"You look better than I remember," he said.
"Funny, I was thinking the same."
Two six-foot strapping lads.
His build was bigger.
Both of us now leaning in for the kiss.
It was magical.
Slow at first.
Gently touching tongues.
Then becoming more passionate.
My cock was hard and twitching, and you could easily see it through my jeans.
After a few minutes, he said, "We both need a drink."
He poured us each a very chilled glass of dry white from the fridge.
We raised our glasses.
"To new friends."
Then he pecked me on the cheek.
Nice.
"Dinner's going to be about ten minutes. You hungry?"
"I am," I said.
"Me too. I've not had a proper meal for a week. I make my own sauces and meatballs. I try to cook from scratch whenever I can. Hope you like it. Please sit down."
He looked at ease, which made me feel more relaxed too.
"How's your week been?" I asked.
"Hard work, but it always is. How about you, Jake?"
"Really good. I got a promotion."
"Oh, well done! What do you do?"
"Hey, promise me you're not going to think I'm being funny, Matty, but tonight I want to switch off from work and concentrate on having a great time with you. I'll tell you about it next time."
"Yeah, sure. Totally get it."
"Well, I hope I've done the right thing, Jake, but after my shower I put yesterday's socks back on. Have I done the right thing, or should I change them?"
"That's so sexy... and yes, you've very much done the right thing."
I reached over and gave him a long, gentle kiss.
After an amazing, tasty meal, Matty gave me a proper tour of the house.
I could see and share his vision for the old house and loved his enthusiasm.
He wanted to keep the character of the Victorian terrace.
"A lot of this I can do with YouTube videos and mates' help, but I'm in no hurry. I can only afford to do it one room at a time."
"I love your apartment, Jake, but I can make more money on this. I only plan to stay here for a year, then I'll start all over again."
"Good plan," I said.
"I like your business sense. I will probably do the same soon. Do you know any builders?” Matty laughed.
"The kitchen though... I love it," I said.
"I love retro. Are you sure you have to rip it out? If I was staying here, I'd keep it and restore it."
"As I'll be selling it on to landlords as a buy-to-let, they'll want a budget modern fitted kitchen. Howdens, which I'll fit myself."
"I get it."
We opened the other bottle and went upstairs to lie on his super-king bed, as the lounge was a building site with no furniture.
"Tunes or a film?" he asked.
"Tunes?" I asked.
"Okay. You want to choose?"
"No. Your house, you choose."
"I love this band."
He put on Morcheeba.
"I love them too," I said.
"Mind if we share a little weed?" Matty asked.
"Great," I replied.
We both lay on the bed with another bottle of wine while Matty started to roll a few joints.
"It's strong," he warned me.
I just smiled.
New Chapter?
We lay there smoking and chatting when he looked at me and said, "Want to take off my trainers? My feet are killing me."
"Fuck yes," I said, but then I looked at him.
"You know they are just a starter for later. Yes, they're a fetish, but I do like you, Matty."
"I like you too, Jake. Now please take off my trainers."
"Be rude not to."
By the time I'd got down there, he'd already kicked one off.
OMG.
Heaven.
Stinky heaven.
Wet, stale and fresh sweat all worked into one.
I whimpered and said, "Amazing," out loud.
The weed and wine had kicked in, and I buried my face in his dark navy socked foot.
"They okay?" he asked.
"I think so," I replied as I inhaled.
I licked the toes, under the toes, working my tongue and licking off the taste of sweat as though my life depended on it.
"Fuck, this is making me so horny."
"I love this guy's smell."
I peeled one sock off and got to work on his toes.
He wriggled with excitement as I licked between them.
"Fuck, I love your feet, Matty."
"I gathered that," he laughed.
I moved up to him and kissed him.
"Can I explore your body?" he asked.
"Sure," I replied.
"But I'm a novice," he said.
"Go for it. We'll take it nice and slow. Don't worry."
We were kissing, and he started to undo my shirt.
Slowly, concentrating on each button and gently kissing my chest.
I took off my shirt, and he unbuttoned my jeans.
"Pull them off," I said.
"Tart," he laughed as he yanked them off.
You could see how hard I was.
Matty slowly kissed my stomach and put his mouth over my cock, still inside my trunks, and started kissing the head.
Very sensual, I thought.
"Turn over," he asked.
I obeyed.
Still wearing my trunks, he kissed my shoulders and then worked his way down my spine.
Then he buried his face between my buttocks and took a deep inhale.
"Fuck... that smells hot."
I was leaking now and said, "Taste it."
So he pulled off my trunks and carefully spread my buttocks.
He went straight for the kill, moving his tongue in slow circles.
"Fuck," he said. "What a tight, amazing, sexy hole."
Doing well for a novice, I thought.
It seemed like ages while he concentrated on me, and I was now really craving him.
"My turn," I said.
"You lie down."
I pulled off his jeans and then saw him in white trunks.
Nice and tight.
He looked bigger than last time.
I got on top and slowly started sucking him.
He was loving it and tasted amazing.
A mixture of light musk, shower gel, and pre-cum.
"Mind if I suck you?" he groaned.
"Go for it, Matty."
So again, sixty-nine.
Me on top.
Slowly...
...when his doorbell went.
"FFS," he said.
It was Paul.
"Hi, bud. I'm being hassled. Can I come in?"
"Sure, Pauly. Come in. You okay, mate?"
"Yeah."
"Come in."
Pauly walked in looking stressed.
"Hi, Paul."
"Hi, Jake."
"Oh... am I interrupting?"
We both said no.
But we meant yes.
But what are mates for, eh?
We went into the kitchen, and Matty rolled Pauly a spliff.
"We were just chilling upstairs."
"Oh, I am sorry. I did interrupt."
"It's fine," Matty replied.
I suggested we all went back upstairs and chilled out.
Pauly hammered the wine and the weed but didn't want to explain what was wrong.
Pauly was troubled, and he and Matty were really good mates.
It had been a long week, so I thought the best thing was to go home.
We had a quick kiss in the kitchen and decided to go to mine tomorrow night.
Pizza.
I'm not cooking.
Hopefully we'll have no interruptions.
"Bye, Pauly," I shouted, and left.
I got back to my flat and sat on my bed in the dark.
I must have fallen asleep.
I woke up fully clothed to my phone ringing.
It was 9 a.m.
