I woke up with a hard-on. Sure, part of it was just blood flow, the usual morning wood, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Most of it was Greg.
I couldn’t stop replaying last night, him standing in the doorway, shirtless, chest gleaming faintly in the glow from the hall, shorts hanging low on his hips. The bulge pressing out front, heavy, obvious, impossible to ignore. And the way he didn’t flinch when he caught me, when I caught him. Like we were just two guys…bros, almost jerking off in the same house. No shame. No awkwardness. Just raw, male.
That thought alone made my cock twitch again under the sheets. Sharing a roof with my boss. My shirtless, broad-shouldered, divorce-hardened, boss.
I dragged myself out of bed, still half-hard, padding toward the kitchen.
Greg was already up.
Shirtless again, of course. This time wrapped in just a towel that sat dangerously low on his hips, damp from a shower. He was leaning over the counter, brewing coffee like it was the most casual thing in the world, like he didn’t know his whole body looked built for sin in the daylight. His chest was broader in the morning light, veins faint on his arms, the curve of his back tapering down to a trim waist.
The towel clung to his ass, and when he shifted, I saw it, the faint outline of his cock resting heavy against the towel, hanging long even soft. My throat went dry.
“Coffee?” Greg’s voice was rough, gravelly from sleep.
I nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He poured me a mug, slid it across the counter with a nod, nothing more. My boss. My fucking boss. Casual in a towel like we weren’t one slip of terrycloth away from total exposure.
────୨ৎ────
We had breakfast. By the time we were headed out the door, the shift was whiplash. The same man who’d been half-n@ked in my kitchen thirty minutes ago now stood sharp in a navy-blue suit, crisp shirt, tie knotted tight. Back to being Mr. Lawson. The boss.
But all I could see was the man under the fabric. The same shoulders, the same chest, the towel, the bulge. The smell of his soap lingering when he slid into the car beside me.
My eyes drifted down without meaning to, catching on his veiny hands wrapped around the wheel, the way his tight navy pants stretched over his massive thighs. His jaw looked sharp in the daylight, and with his eyes on the road, he looked impossibly sexy, like some untouchable version of himself.
“So, you sleep okay?” I asked, mostly just to fill the silence, because otherwise I was going to sit there and get hard staring at my boss’s legs.
He glanced at me, then back at the road. “Really good, man. It felt normal in a long time.”
I clutched my leather bag a little tighter against my lap, trying to hide how my dick twitched just hearing him sound so casual about it. “Yeah… I’m glad.”
We drove a little while longer, the car filled with the faint mix of his cologne and the clean, fresh scent of his shower. My head was buzzing with it.
“So, you got any plans tonight?” Greg asked, his voice easy. “Heading out with the guys from the office?”
“Not really,” I said, clearing my throat. “Just staying in. Relax. Enjoy the weekend.”
He nodded, shifting in his seat, his thigh flexing in those pants. “Let’s grab some beers then. Kick back. Just chill, you and me.” He said it like a bro would, like we hadn’t been jerking off in the same apartment the night before.
And that was the problem, he said it so normal, so effortless, like my head wasn’t still full of the image of his towel slipping on his hips.
“Yeah,” I nodded, forcing it out like it was nothing. “Sure, sounds good.”
But my voice betrayed me, a little too quick, a little too eager. I clutched my bag tighter, staring out the window like the city suddenly had something worth seeing.
────୨ৎ────
The rest of the day at the office was hell. I couldn’t focus, not on emails, not on presentations, not even when people were talking directly to me. All I saw was Greg, the Greg from this morning; the chest, the towel, the outline of his cock. Every time he passed me in the hall, every time I caught the brush of his cologne, my cock twitched.
He was the same boss he always was, striding around in those tailored pants, sleeves rolled just enough to show the veins on his forearms, commanding instructions and charming clients. But I wasn’t the same. I’d had a crush before, sure, stolen looks when no one was watching. But now? Now I knew what he looked like stripped down to just his skin. Now I knew he was packing, heavy, real. That image sat in my chest all day like a secret.
And I couldn’t stop wanting more.
────୨ৎ────
Later that evening, I ended up taking the subway home. Mr. Lawson had a couple more meetings lined up, so I didn’t expect to see him till late. By the time I was back at the apartment, I was in my room, lights dim, scrolling through my phone half-distracted.
I heard the door open about an hour later. Heavy footsteps, the sound of keys dropping into the bowl near the entrance. I didn’t think much of it until maybe ten minutes passed and my door eased open.
Greg leaned against the frame, dressed down in a plain t-shirt and gray sweatpants, two cans of beer in his hand. His hair was a little messy, his face softer without that daytime tension.
He lifted one can with a tired half-smile.
“Down for a beer?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, sitting up.
He stepped inside, tossed me one, and sat right down on the bed next to me, fully lounging, stretching his legs out across the comforter as if he owned the space. He cracked his can open and took a long pull before sighing.
“Honestly, man… thanks for letting me crash here. I would’ve lost my mind if I had to stay alone. It really gets to you, you know? You spend your life with someone and then…”
He trailed off. The words seemed too heavy in his mouth.
I took a sip, keeping my voice easy. “You don’t have to hold back with me.”
He gave a short, tired laugh. “Yeah. Well… she was the one who wanted the space, you know? Girls’ trips, nights out, plans that didn’t include me. We hadn’t gone on a proper date in… what, eight months?” He shook his head. “I guess we just fell out of love.”
The beer can sat between his hands,. Then he let out a low, rueful chuckle. “And our sex life was—” He cut himself off, shaking his head again.
I turned toward him, speaking gently. “It’s okay, Greg.. You can be open”
He leaned back against the headboard, eyes on the ceiling. “It’s just… intimacy is a big part of a marriage, right? But whenever I’d try to… initiate something, she’d brush me off. Make some excuse. Roll over and go to sleep.” His voice dipped. “The last six months, we didn’t really…… you know.”
I nodded slowly, setting my can down. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how much that must’ve weighed on you.”
His jaw worked. He let out a breath that seemed almost relieved, like he’d been holding it for months. Then his hand moved, absently at first…resting on his stomach, fingers splayed against his t-shirt. Slowly, without seeming to notice, he dragged them down, brushing the waistband of his sweatpants. His knuckles lingered there, dangerously close, just hovering.
He glanced at me finally, eyes darker, lips pulling into something halfway between a smirk and an ache. He glanced at me finally, eyes darker, lips pulling into something halfway between a smirk and an ache.
“So yeah,” he said quietly. “What you saw last night wasn’t your horny boss just jerking off…”
“Uhm… I didn’t” I stammered, heat crawling up my neck, my voice breaking as I tried to deny it.
Greg’s laugh was low, rough, too casual for what he was saying. “I mean—I was. But now you get why…”
“I… it’s okay. I totally get it sir. It’s just… different for me, you know? Seeing my boss…” My words trailed, my eyes betraying me, sliding down to the soft bulge pressing against his sweats, where his fingers had already started brushing like he couldn’t help himself.
I jerked my gaze away before my mouth could say something I’d regret.
He caught me though. He chuckled, shaking his head. “What? Like seeing your boss’s bulge?”
The words hung in the air, half a tease, half a challenge. My throat tightened.
“I didn’t Greg,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean that —”
Greg’s lips curved, slow and knowing. His hand was still resting casually over the swell in his sweatpants, stroking his fingers across the fabric as if it were nothing, as if this were just another late-night conversation between us.
“It’s okay,” he said, voice low. “Don’t be shy. I saw you looking at me in the kitchen this morning too. When I was in just a towel.”
My heart thumped. I tried to swallow the heat in my face. “Uh… sir. Mr. Lawson. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
His other hand shifted, brushing against my thigh, barely there but enough to make my cock twitch inside my shorts.
“No, no. It’s okay.” His tone softened, almost reassuring. “I don’t mind it.”
The words settled inside me like permission. My eyes flickered downward before I could stop myself. The bulge in his sweats had grown, pushing forward, stretching the fabric tighter. His fingers rubbed over it lazily, and it seemed to swell under his own touch.
He caught me staring again.
“You want to touch?” Greg asked.
My stomach clenched. I froze, caught between instinct and reason.
“I - I mean…”
But my hand was already moving, as if it belonged to someone else, hovering uncertainly before landing on the warmth of his thigh. The muscle under my palm was hard, solid. My fingers flexed against it, feeling the strength there.
Greg didn’t move away.
“Go on,” he murmured. “I’m your boss in the office. But here…” He paused, his lips quirking. “…here, I’m just your mate.”
The word lingered, heavier than it should have.
I exhaled slowly, then slid my hand higher, the soft fabric of his sweats dragging beneath my palm until I pressed against the firm weight straining behind it. My hand trembled as I gave the gentlest squeeze, and Greg let out a quiet sound, almost a hum, like approval.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Just like that.”
My pulse was a drum in my ears. I wrapped my fingers around him, feeling the shape of his cock through the thin cotton…thick, heavy, filling my grip more than I expected. I stroked slowly, testing, and the bulge twitched under my touch, growing harder with each movement.
“Fuck Alexx,” Greg muttered, eyes half-lidded. “That feels good.”
He reached down then, his hand brushing mine away for a moment. My chest tightened, thinking I’d crossed too far, but instead he tugged at the waistband of his sweats. With one smooth motion, he pulled them down to his thighs.
He wasn’t wearing any underwear.
His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, curving slightly upward as it slapped against his stomach before settling heavy over his lap. The sight punched the air from my lungs.
The shaft was long, at least eight inches, cut clean, veins running along the sides. His tip was swollen and slippery with precum already, shining in the dim light. Dark, wiry pubes framed the base, thick but trimmed just enough to look deliberate.
I couldn’t stop staring.
I’d imagined it, sure. Ever since that night I’d caught him jerking off. But seeing it this close…seeing the reality was different. His cock wasn’t just big. It was perfect in that raw, masculine way. Heavy, proud, made to be gripped and worshiped.
Greg caught the look on my face and smirked, leaning back on one hand. “Bigger than you thought?”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Uh… yeah.”
I froze. My brain caught up a second later, realizing I’d basically admitted I’d been thinking about my boss’s cock. “I mean…I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…”
Greg’s smirk deepened. “How about we stop pretending you haven’t had a crush on me since forever?”
My eyes flicked up to him, shame burning hot in my chest. “Mr. Lawson…”
“Alex,” he said slowly, steady, like he’d been waiting for this. “You think I don’t know?”
His hand slid down, holding his cock in his hand as he kept talking. My gaze followed helplessly.
“All those meetings,” he murmured, fingers tracing himself lazily, “you’d sit across the table, eyes stuck on me instead of your notes. I’d stand at the board and you’d get that glassy look, like you were somewhere else entirely. And don’t tell me you never checked me out when I leaned over your desk.”
“I —I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Oh, don’t be.” His tone was light, but his palm grip tightened around his cock… “When someone looks at you the way you do…” He slapped his thick cock against his palm once, a wet sound cutting the air. A smear of precum shone across his skin when he pulled his hand away. “It feels good.”
My breath caught. My eyes locked on the head of his cock, flushed and leaking.
“So,” Greg said, voice lower now. “Do you wanna keep looking, or do you wanna touch?”
I shifted closer without meaning to, body leaning toward him like gravity was pulling me down. “I… I—”
His fingers caught mine, steady and sure, guiding my hand forward. I hesitated in the air, then finally wrapped around the base of him. The heat hit me first. Alive, thick, pulsing in my palm. My fingers didn’t even close all the way, he was too big. Too much.
I gave a slow stroke, dragging my hand up the length until my thumb brushed his dripping tip. Precum smeared across my skin, sticky and hot.
Greg let out a low groan, his head tipping back for a moment. “Shit. That’s it, boy.”
I couldn’t stop now. I stroked again, then again, each movement more confident than the last. The precum leaked steadily, dripping down over my fingers, making everything slippery. My breaths grew shallow, my cock twitched in my shorts as I stroked him.
“Come closer,” Greg said suddenly, his voice rough.
I shifted on the bed, moving lower, closer between his spread thighs. My knees pressed against the mattress, my chest nearly against his side. From here, I could smell him; the mix of beer, sweat and something darker, muskier.. manlier...
My hand kept moving, pumping him slowly, twisting at the tip. His cock throbbed in my grip, leaving trails of precum over my knuckles, dripping down to stain his sweatpants where they bunched around his thighs.
“Fuck, Alex,” Greg muttered, watching my hand on him. “You’re good at that.”
“Fuck, Mr. Lawson…” The words slipped out before I could catch them.
Greg’s eyes snapped open, amused, hazy with lust. “Uh… do you wanna…?”
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. His eyes flicked down toward his cock, then back to me, questioning, waiting.
My lips parted. My throat felt dry. Every nerve in my body screamed yes, but the weight of what we were doing pressed down on me. I stroked him again, slower this time, my hand gliding over the thick shaft, thumb brushing across the swollen head. Precum smeared across my skin, warm and slippery.
Greg’s breath hitched, his hips twitching upward into my grip.
I looked up at him, caught in his gaze. His face was tense, flushed, his jaw clenched as if holding back.
“Do you wanna.... maybe ....taste it?” he asked again, quieter this time, almost gentle.
Greg paused, his voice low, almost playful. His eyes searched mine, like he wasn’t sure if he should even say it, but then his mouth curved just enough for me to know he was serious.
“Do you wanna… lick it?”
My throat went dry. His cock was in my hand, heavy, warm, my fingers wrapped around the thick shaft as I stroked him slow. My lips parted, though no words came out. I looked up at him, then down at his cock again, then back at him.
“I—uhm… I can try,” I muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
Greg didn’t say anything at first. He just laid there with his cock in my palm, fat and swollen, veins running along the shaft. He watched me with that same half-smirk, half-ache, like he was caught between teasing and wanting.
I leaned closer, my hand still moving, my mouth hovering just above his cock. My lips parted again, breath ghosting over the tip. For a second I just stared at it; the way it pulsed in my grip, the little glisten of precum already there, waiting.
Then, carefully, I lowered my tongue.
Just a flick. Just a taste.
The salty-wet precum spread over my tongue. I pulled back instantly, lips closing, eyes flicking up to him like I’d just done something forbidden.
Greg twitched hard in my hand. His whole body seemed to jerk. “Ah…fuck..Alex,” he hissed. His eyes had gone darker, his chest rising fast.
I couldn’t help smiling a little, small and nervous. “You like it sir?”
His eyes dropped down to where my tongue had been. His voice came out rough. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”
I licked again, this time slower, dragging my tongue over the swollen head, tracing around the ridge. His cock twitched again, precum smearing under my tongue.
Greg’s fingers flexed at his sides, then one hand came down, resting lightly on the back of my head. Not pushing it, but just… there to gently guide me through the blowjob.
“Fuck man, it’s been so long,” he muttered, voice caught between a laugh and a groan. His hips shifted, cock swelling harder in my grip. “Feels like forever since I’ve had a mouth on my dick.”
I looked up at him again, lips brushing the tip, precum shining on my mouth. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he exhaled. “Work, life… divorce… you stop getting blown as much as you used to.” He gave a small laugh. “Not exactly the kind of thing you admit out loud to your employee, huh?”
I swallowed, smiling nervously. “Guess I’m not exactly your usual employee, am I?”
His hand pressed just a little more against the back of my head, thumb stroking into my hair. “Not even close.”
The words made my chest warm. Made my hand tighten around his cock. I gave him a few slow strokes, squeezing near the base, then bent down again.
This time I opened wider.
My lips wrapped around the tip, sealing over the head. I slid down slowly, taking just the first inch, then pulling back with a wet pop. His cock glistened with my spit, and I went again, a little deeper.
Greg groaned, low and rough. “That’s it… yeah, just like that.”
I breathed through my nose, trying not to panic at the thickness stretching my lips. He was big. Bigger than I’d expected. My jaw already felt it, but the way he reacted…the twitch of his cock, the sound he made…made me want to keep going.
I slid down again, two inches this time, my tongue pressed against the underside. My hand stroked the rest, twisting a little, keeping him wet.
“Fuck man, you’ve got no idea,” Greg muttered above me, head tipped back against the doorframe. “How good that feels… how long it’s been.”
I hummed around his cock, the sound making him twitch again.
He looked down, his hand tightening in my hair, but still gentle. “You wanna try wrapping your lips around more of it?”
I pulled back, licking him slow, spit trailing from my mouth to his shaft. “I can… try.”
“Good,” he said softly, eyes locked on mine. “Just go slow. Don’t rush.”
I nodded and went back down, lips stretching wider. I eased lower, taking more, inch by inch. Four inches, maybe five, until I gagged softly and pulled back, coughing a little.
Greg chuckled, voice deep. “You’re fine. Don’t force it.” His thumb stroked my cheek. “You’ll get there.”
I tried again, slower, pushing past the urge to pull away. I got a little deeper this time before pulling back, spit dripping down his cock, glistening in the low light.
“You’re doing so good Alex,” Greg groaned, hips shifting upwards without him realizing. His cock pushed against my lips again, and I let it in, suck-ing harder. “Fuck man.”
I stroked him while suck-ing, my hand twisting, lips sliding, tongue circling the tip whenever I came up for air. He kept groaning, sometimes muttering little things…“fuck,” “just like that,” “Damn, boy” his voice so raw it made my stomach knot with heat.
After a while, he glanced at me, sweat on his brow, chest rising heavy. “You wanna try going deeper? I’ll help you stretch.”
I hesitated, lips glistening, spit smeared on my chin. “Stretch?”
“Yeah,” he said, voice gentle but teasing. “Your throat. You’ve got a tight little mouth. Takes practice.”
I swallowed, nodding. “Okay.”
He smiled at me, that same mix of smirk and ache. His hand slid a little firmer into my hair. “Breathe through your nose. Just relax.”
I opened wide again, lips sliding down his cock. He pushed gently this time, guiding me lower. My throat tightened, gagging, but he held me there just a second before pulling me back.
“Good,” he muttered. “So fucking good.”
We did it again, a little deeper. Then again, until I was taking more than I thought I could. Each time I gagged, spit spilled from my lips, running down his shaft. My jaw ached, throat burning, but the way he looked at me like I was giving him something he hadn’t had in months kept me going.
Finally, I managed almost all of him. Seven inches, maybe a little more, my lips pressed against the base. I gagged hard, pulling off, spit stringing from my lips to his cock.
Greg groaned, rubbing my head. “Fuck… you are doing so good.”
I wiped my mouth, panting, then smiled up at him. “Guess I’m… getting used to it slowly.”
He laughed, the sound rough and disbelieving. “You’re doing fucking amazing.”
I stroked him again, hand sliding wetly over his spit-coated shaft, then leaned in and licked from base to tip. “Feels good though?”
“Alex,” Greg said, voice shaking. “Feels like the best thing I’ve had in ages.”
That made me grin. I wrapped my lips around him again, sliding down slow, my throat opening bit by bit. This time, I didn’t stop. This time, I let him guide me, his hips hovering over the bed, cock sliding deep into my mouth until I gagged, pulled back, then went down again.
It was messy. Wet. My chin and his cock soaked with spit. But every groan he let out made me harder, every twitch of his cock against my tongue made me hungrier.
And then, with his cock filling my mouth, his hand steady in my hair, Greg looked down at me and said, low and sharp
“Fuck man, I am so close”
I looked up at him with obedient eyes and sealed my lips tighter around his cock, suck-ing harder, dragging my mouth up and down his length.
“Shit… Alex… are you sure you can take it?” Greg’s voice cracked, low and strained.
“Mmhmm,” I hummed, his cock still buried in my mouth, the sound vibrating along his shaft.
“Fuck…keep going, don’t stop…”
I bobbed my head faster, spit running from the corners of my mouth, chin wet. His thighs tensed beneath my hand, his hips giving tiny, desperate thrusts.
“Ahh—fuck… ahhh fuckk…”
I swallowed him down again, pushing myself to take his cock deeper, tongue sliding along the underside, my throat clenching.
“Shit… shit…” he groaned, voice breaking.
His hand tightened in my hair, not rough, but firm enough to hold me right there. His hips lifted slightly off the bed, his cock driving deep into my throat. I gagged softly but stayed down, gripping his thigh as I felt it; his cock throbbing, pulsing and swelling.
Then it happened. His whole body stiffened, his jaw slack, and a ragged moan tore out of him. “Ahhh… fuuuck, Alex…” His cock exploded in my mouth, thick hot spurts of cum hitting the back of my throat. I swallowed, messy and eager, more spilling down my tongue as he kept groaning, hips twitching, hand trembling in my hair. He gave me everything, until I was choking down his release, until my lips were dripping with it, until he sagged back against the bed with a broken groan.
I pulled back slowly, dragging my lips up his cock, giving one last tight suck before slipping free. A string of cum clung to my mouth as I licked the swollen tip, savoring the taste.
“Holy fuck, Alex,” he panted, chest rising and falling. “You are… fucking crazy man.”
I glanced up at him, lips shiny, and smirked.
“This wasn’t the first time you’ve sucked a dick, was it?” Greg asked, still catching his breath.
I shook my head, smiling. “No, Mr. Greg.” My eyes flicked down to his cock, still heavy against his thigh. “I was just trying to make you comfortable.” I sat back on the bed, wiping my chin.
Greg laughed, a warm, rough sound. He tugged his sweats back up, still shaking his head. “Fuck, Alex… you made me more than comfortable.”
He stood, stretching like the weight of weeks had lifted. For a moment he just looked at me, then he smiled… genuine and grateful. “Thank you man. I really needed this release… after you know the… divorce.”
I gave him a small smile in return.
And then he left, the faint scent of him lingering in the room, my lips still tingling from him, my chest buzzing with what we’d just done.
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