Cam was already at his desk when I arrived the following morning. Wearing a tight pair of white linen dress pants and a summery red polo, he looked like a runway model fresh off the Mediterranean summer collection.
“Hey man,” he said, greeting me, a devilish grin already forming on his face. “How was your evening?”
Visions of riding my dildo and cumming three times as I imaged my two straight hunk coworkers fucking me ran through my head.
“Great,” I said with a shrug and smile, my dick stirring. “Just stayed in. You?”
“Hit the gym,” he said, flexing his biceps and his legs. He held the linen pants tight over his quad and stretched his leg out, the cut muscle below flowing beneath the fabric. “It was leg day.” His quad continued to flex under the partially see through white linen. Remaining just as bold as yesterday, his hands traveled up his leg and held the fabric down over his crotch. He wore a pair of white briefs under the linen, the outline clear to see.
“Looks like your efforts are paying off,” I complimented, drinking in the view he gave me, being bold myself and not shying away from staring at my new coworker’s bulge.
He smirked and took things further than Clark ever had. One hand brushed seductively over his bulge. He hooked his fingers into his crotch, catching the clothing, and peeled his pouch aside, freeing his dick, which dick flopped out in a ripple of linen.
FUCK, I screamed in my head, my dick stiffening, eyes glued to his crotch.
Cam pressed white linen over his meat, arranging it just so, showing me the outline of his lengthy dick. His pinkish-white skin was just visible through the semi-transparent fabric.
I swallowed, hard. And my cock sprang to attention.
I stared, savoring the view, my mouth watering.
Cam just played it off, one hand cupping his nearly naked dick, presenting it to me, his other arm flexing again, showing off his muscles. “Thanks man. Killed my legs yesterday. Thought I was going to have a date with a girl I met, but she cancelled last minute, so I worked out my aggression at the gym instead.”
His dick looked longer, like he was chubbing from my attention.
Our workspace was semi-private, but only semi. A fellow coworker arrived, milling about as they settled in for the day.
Cam quickly released his pants and tucked himself back into the briefs.
“Glad you got that aggression out bro,” I said, taking a seat at my desk and getting ready for the day.
Throughout the morning, we chatted, worked, and Cam infrequently showed off – pushing his sleeve up and flexing, reaching under his polo to pull it up and showing off his obliques and lats, stretching his legs out and cupping his junk – he grinned every time, watching me drink in his body.
What are the chances of having two straight men showing off for me at work, I thought, thrilled by the turn of events.
“Coffee,” Cam asked a few hours into the day.
“Yeah,” I said, yawning and stretching.
As Cam walked by my chair, just as I was standing, his hand grazed my lower back. He just continued to walk as though nothing had happened, but I’d nearly moaned at the sensation.
He walked ahead of me, giving me a view of his compact, tight, sculpted butt. He put his hands in the pockets of his linen pants, stretching the fabric across his buns, and exaggerated his walk, really giving me a view of his buttocks. With a glance behind him, he smirked and winked, seeing my eyes glued to his ass.
At the coffee counter, he poured us both a mug full of coffee and added a splash of milk, teasing me as he poured, “You like some creamer.” It wasn’t a question.
I winked, “You know it.” I dropped my eyes to his crotch, “But I prefer the real deal.”
His smirk curled the corners of his lips, and he slowly nodded his head, absorbing the depths of our banter.
We chatted, sipping our coffees, and he showed off his muscles to me, same as Clark usually did at our coffee break.
Clark!
I’d forgotten about him completely this morning, so enraptured I was with my new straight, exhibitionist coworker.
And then I saw him, in my periphery, slyly watching Cam and me. He just watched, staying out of the way, brewing. Jealousy plain as day on his face.
My dick lurched.
“Let get back to it,” I said, ignoring Clark.
Cam noticed my change in demeanor and likely realized Clark’s spying, but he gave no hint of it.
As he walked by me, nonchalant, the back of his hand grazed my chubbed crotch.
Bold. Clark had never gone to that level of intimacy, sexuality, and now Cam had done it twice.
I nearly moaned for a second time.
I enjoyed the view of Cam from behind on the way back to our desks, and the rest of the morning progressed as the first half had.
Right on cue at lunch time, Clark was standing next to my chair. Close. So close that when I swiveled my head to look at him, my face was mere inches from his bulge, the curve of his junk nearly touching my shoulder.
Leaning away, I took in the view, his mounded package curving his chinos. Glancing up, he gazed down at me, an almost angry look cast across his face.
“You guys ready for lunch,” he asked.
A hand dropped to his crotch and squeezed his junk.
Well, he had become bolder overnight, I thought. Must be Cam’s boldness is pushing him to match it.
“Yeah,” Cam said, putting a hand squarely on my shoulder, moving my rollie chair away from Clark. “We’re ready.”
The rivalry had escalated. Clark clearly being bolder. He’d never touched his junk or put it that close to me before. And Cam touched me for the first time, well, third time by now. My dick raged already. I had to adjust before I stood up so the office wouldn’t see my rod tenting my chinos, a movement not lost on either of them.
They smirked, saw each other smirking, and Clark scowled. Cam though, his smirk deepened, a self-satisfied contentment.
Lunch was tense, not just due to their hetero rivalry for my attention, but sexually.
Cam’s hand rested on my leg for a moment; Clark’s foot rubbed the inside of my thigh. They both flexed, rippled, and danced their muscles and bragged about their exercise routines.
My dick didn’t deflate one bit. Rather, it throbbed and started to leak.
At the end of the meal, I had to make my way to the bathroom to clean up my juices before they soaked through my sport brief and into my pants.
In a bathroom stall with my dick out, Clark took the stall next to me.
“You like this new guy that much,” he asked me, voice tight with annoyance, peeing.
“He’s very nice and a good collaborator,” I said, keeping my words professional.
“He’s here two days and has you wrapped around his finger already,” Clark whispered, voice tinged in anger and jealousy. “Took me weeks to get you to this point.”
I collected my juices, licked them off my fingers, daydreaming back to the first few weeks with Clark at work. They were fun weeks… and then I used toilet paper to wipe up the rest of my precum.
“You weren’t as bold, aggressive, sexual, as he’s being,” I stated, cutting to the chase and forgoing about professionalism. I had to take my shot to see if I could push Clark, and Cam, where I wanted them to go.
“I’m not giving up on you,” Clark stated. “We have something special and I won’t lose that.”
Warmth spread through my being and I smiled. Got you, I thought.
With my dick still hard but needing to pee, I leaned way over, pointing my erection downward. Otherwise, I remained silent, letting Clark do the talking.
Clark’s stream ended, he zipped up. “Coffee. Tomorrow morning. Back to our regular routine.”
I remained silent, letting him think what he wants, letting him stew in the sticky situation.
His stall door banged open and I was left alone, emptying my bladder, pondering what was going to happen.
Little did I know, Cam was already steps ahead.
….
Cam was early again to the office the following morning, and this time had brought coffee for both of us.
“I put some extra creamer in there for you,” Cam said slyly, voice full of innuendo.
I held his gaze, trying to read his message. He just grinned, sitting in his chair, cupping his junk and flexing his muscles.
My cock ached. Noooo… Did he cum in the coffee he brought me?!
I opened the plastic lid excitedly, brimming with anticipation, my eyes fixated on his face and junk.
He just sat there calmly, slyly smiling, rubbing his junk and dancing his pecs in his fitted polo.
Sure enough, the milky coffee had cum floating in it and the district smell of jizz wafted from the open container.
I was rock hard.
Cam was silent, just watching me. Bold was an understatement for the game he was playing.
I picked up the cup, held it to my lips, held eye contact with my straight coworker, and drank a hearty gulp.
Cam’s smile deepened and his eyes narrowed. He gave me a wink and flexed his arm while stroking his bulge.
No one spoke. I kept drinking, taking sips and tasting his nectar mixed with the coffee.
“Delicious,” I finally said, breaking the silence and setting the cup down. “Thanks for the special brew dude.” I affixed the lid and got to work.
Cam nodded, taking another minute to stroke himself and watch me, and got to work as well.
A little over two hours later, Clark stomped up to my chair.
“Dude,” he said, heated. “What happened to meeting for coffee? I’ve been waiting over there for ten minutes.”
Shit!, I thought. For the second day in a row, Cam had pushed all thought of Clark from my mind.
“Sorry man,” I lamented. “Cam brought me a specialty coffee this morning and I forgot about our coffee break. I’m sorry.” As I spoke, I’d picked up the coffee from Cam, showing it to Clark.
“Very nice of you Cam,” Clark said in an accusatory tone.
Cam was just silent, calm, observant.
“It’s very good,” I said, taking a sip, knowing full well I was drinking some of Cam’s cum as I spoke to Clark. My dick was right back to full mast.
“Give me that,” Clark said, snatching the coffee from my hand and taking a sip.
I stared, bemused.
Cam smirked.
Clark’s face initially scrunched at the taste and then took on a look of enjoyment. “That is actually very good. What’s your secret coffee place man?”
“I’ll tell you some day,” Cam said, touching a finger to his nose, like he’ll eventually let him in on the secret.
Clark took another sip, pondering the coffee, and handed it back to me.
“Tell you what though,” Cam added, musing. “I’d be happy to bring you some tomorrow too. I know Grant here’s going to want more.” Cam grinned at me and slapped me on the shoulder, sharing in the knowledge of what he offered, both the Clark and to me.
Clark tensed at seeing Cam’s hand on my shoulder again today.
“Sure dude, appreciate it,” Clark said, attempting to sound only friendly. “Lunch later?”
“Yes,” I said, committing to it, keeping that routine with Clark steady. Cam just nodded his head, knowing he was a part of it now and he’d be coming to lunch too.
…
Lunch was the same mixture of sexual and rivalry tension, though there was some thaw between Clark and Cam. Maybe Cam’s offering to bring Clark coffee had calmed Clark somehow, and Cam knowing he’d conquered my desires in some ways, his load in my belly and another coming tomorrow, maybe made him less boisterous. They did both still show off for me, but we also chatted more freely about exercises, the two of them about girls, and work.
The afternoon passed slowly, Cam and I lost in a slow-moving part of a project.
Cam left at the end of the day – and I stayed late – brushing his hand over my shoulders as he walked by me to leave.
Before leaving for home myself a while later, I stopped in the bathroom to pee.
Unzipping, pulling my dick out, I was just about to pee when Clark took the urinal next to me.
My stream unleashed.
Clark unzipped, pulled his dick out, and looked pointedly at me. He stood so I could see it all, and he mine.
Flaccid, 6inches long, cut, fat mushroom head like mine. He peed.
I felt myself chubbing, both from the sight of his naked penis and from knowing he was looking at mine.
“You enjoying all your time with your new muscle man,” Clark asked, annoyed.
“Cam is a great coworker,” I said, trying to maintain a modicum of professionalism.
“I bet he is,” Clark mused. “Seems you don’t have time for me anymore. For this muscle man. Your OG. Am I no longer a great coworker?”
“I really am sorry about the coffee this morning,” I stated, sincere.
“Oh, I know,” Clark said. “Someone’s got your mind all twisted around. I’ll help you straighten it out.”
And then he too started to chub.
Seeing that, I was rock hard in an instant.
“One of the few muscles I haven’t pumped for you yet,” Clark said, stroking his swelling dick and squeezing his glutes and thighs together, pushing blood into his meat, making it flex. “And one of the ones I think you’ve most lusted after.”
He’d never spoken so brazenly sexually before, never touched his dick, shown his flesh. Maybe the rivalry hadn’t died at all, maybe Clark had just found a different way to handle it.
“Go head,” he told me. “Touch it. Show me how sorry you really are. And how much you’ve wanted to worship all of me.”
I glanced at the door. The office was quiet, but this was very risky.
“Come,” I said, motioning us into the far stall.
He was rigid, his meat swaying as he sidled into the stall behind me. 8inches. Same as me. Straight as an arrow and pointing toward the ceiling.
“Touch me Grant,” Clark demanded, flexing both biceps, his dick pulsing untouched.
FUCK! I screamed in my mind as I wrapped a hand around his cock and another around as much of his large, defined bicep as I could.
We both moaned.
Lightly, my hand drifting up and down his meat and bicep, caressing him, immersing myself in the experience of flesh on flesh, sensing the pumping blood underneath. The rigidity. The readiness.
“You can do better than that,” Clark said seductively. “I know. I’ve seen you lick those lips. Salivate. Swallow. All while watching me flex and show off for you. Now do better.”
My legs gave out and I was on my knees, his cock head choking the back of my throat in a flash. I had no recollection of it happening, just the realization that I was groaning and my throat encasing his cock.
“Fuck yeah Grant,” he moaned, his hands clasping onto my head. “Now you’re really going to show me how much you worship me, my muscles, how sorry you are for forgetting about me,” he growled.
His hips swaying, dragging his dick out of my mouth and driving it back in.
Out.
In.
Fucking my face, holding my head steady, using my mouth and throat.
I groaned and took it all.
He flexed his chest and arms, applying force to my skull and hammered my face with his dick.
“Fucking tight ass throat,” Clark groaned. “Better than any fucking women I’ve been with.”
He increased the tempo, spittle dripping out the corners of my mouth and falling to the tiled floor.
Clark panted, moaning, going faster still.
“You’ve thirsted over me for a year,” he grunted. “Now take your fucking drink!”
“FFFUUUUCCCCCKKKKKKK,” he moaned, his dick swelling. Pulling nearly out, he erratically humped just the head and top inch in my mouth, my tongue swirling his glans, and hot, salty cum erupted inside.
Spraying my tongue, cheeks, the roof, his load filled me and I swallowed, drinking his nectar, moaning with each load sliding down my throat.
“Fuck yeah dude,” he groaned, his orgasm ebbing, his gripping relenting.
“Fuck yeah,” he moaned as he slipped his softening dick from my mouth.
He released my head completely, tucked his dick away, and opened the stall. Giving me another pointed look, “Just remember who you worshiped originally.”
And he left.
Tasting him still in my mouth, I swallowed one last time.
Clark was my original, but Cam, fucking Cam, he was new. And Cam was giving me everything I’d dreamed of but never thought was possible. Hetero men’s loads. Two today. And the cocks of straight men. Well, one anyway. The rivalry with Cam had driven Clark to give me his dick, trying to win me back. I gave Cam credit for Clark’s behavior just now.
Closing the stall door, I whipped out my pounding erection and a spat on it. I wanted at least some of Clark’s load on my dick as I jacked off. Slicking myself, beating my length, I blew my load in no time into the toilet, dreaming about Clark and Cam, and used toilet paper to clean up any evidence of our mess.
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