Thanksgiving Secrets

As I entered the sleek, modern lobby of the building, Hunter, the relatively new receptionist, having started about four months ago, greeted me from his desk. 

“Hey Lucas, one moment, I'll let Ethan know you're here,” he said with his usual bright demeanor. Despite his relatively short time at the company, he’s proven to be freaking amazing at remembering things about people. After a single introduction, he never failed to remember who I was. 

I initially asked Ethan about it, thinking maybe he had a crush on me or something. But no, that’s just how he is. Ethan said he was genuinely surprised and impressed by Hunter's performance from the get-go. 

According to Ethan, Hunter had a knack for asking all the right questions, a quality that stood out in the often monotonous rhythm of corporate onboarding. He picked up on the nuances of the job quickly, displaying an intuition and understanding that went beyond the basic requirements of his role.

Hunter’s appearance is every bit the stereotypical 25-year-old twink. I have no idea how old he really is, I’m just guessing. Standing around 5’6” and like supermodel thin, and carries himself with an air of cheerfulness that’s almost infectious. 

His hair, a vivid shade of red, makes a bold statement. I’m almost certain it isn’t his natural color; I have this vague recollection of seeing him with dark hair when he first started. 

“Hunter. Hi. Actually, I’m here to see Lance, but you can let Ethan know I’m here. I’d like to stop by and see him when I’m done with my meeting,” I replied. If Ethan knew I came by his work but didn’t stop to say hi. He would never let me hear the end of it. 

“Oh, okay. One moment,” Hunter said, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. After a brief pause, he looked up. “He’s expecting you. I trust you know where to go?” he asked as he handed me a visitor's badge.

“Yes, thanks, Hunter,” I responded, slipping the lanyard with the visitor's badge over my head and adjusting it around my neck.

I made my way to the elevator, conveniently situated at the point where the two main wings of the building converged. The structure formed a large V, with a spacious covered atrium in the middle that served as a grand centerpiece. The building's former life as a hotel lent it a unique architectural charm, and the atrium added a sense of openness and grandeur to the otherwise modern office space.

The elevator's glass back offered a panoramic view of the atrium as it ascended, a feature that never failed to captivate me. As it glided upwards, I watched the daily life of the building unfold below. The hustle of people moving through the lobby, the quiet groups enjoying a break in the atrium's seating areas. It all comes together to create a warm and inviting atmosphere.

I spotted Liam, surrounded by members of his team. They seemed engrossed in a discussion, unaware of my gaze from above. The sight of Liam stirred a flurry of memories from our Halloween encounter, memories that were both exhilarating and complicated. A mix of desire and a slight pang of guilt.

The elevator reached the sixth floor, I took a deep, steadying breath. “Down boy,” I whispered to myself, a half-hearted reprimand for the unwelcome surge of feelings. “Focus,” This was not the time or place for personal distractions. But then, I was meeting with Lance, so there were plenty of other opportunities for such distractions. 

Reaching the sixth floor, I stepped out of the elevator and made my way down the hall toward the end, where Lance's office was located.  I noticed the door was open. I knocked on the doorframe to announce my presence and poked my head inside. Lance was seated on the couch, his demeanor relaxed and welcoming. Seeing the way he was seated, his back nestled into the corner, one leg crossed over the other. His arm stretched along the back of the couch. It was welcoming. 

Seated next to him was Josh, looking every bit as comfortable as Lance. They were seated in a way that they could easily see each other, while still facing the other couch. 

I hadn’t expected him at the meeting, but he was a welcome sight. His presence would, in theory, help keep me focused on business. I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that he was seated next to Lance. Part of me wanted to sit there. The jealous part. But no. Given that I’m here to pitch my ideas, it’s best I am able to face him. 

On the opposite couch was Trey, Lance's middle son, and the one responsible for the clothing line. He’s every bit his father’s son looks wise. The same age as Josh and I. Talented when it comes to design, but that’s about it. Really nice to talk to at least. 

On the opposite couch was Trey, Lance's middle son and the one spearheading the clothing line project. His resemblance to his father was striking, he was every bit Lance’s son in looks. Personality-wise, they couldn’t be further apart. Around the same age as Josh and me, Trey exuded a blend of youthful energy and inherited confidence. His talent in design was evident. Though from what I understood, his strengths lay primarily in the creative aspects, and not business.

Despite his prominent position and family legacy, Trey was surprisingly approachable, a quality that made conversations with him both easy and enjoyable. 

"Lucas, good to see you," Lance greeted warmly, with Josh offering a friendly nod and Trey acknowledging my presence with a casual, welcoming gesture. “Please, sit.” He gestured towards the open seat next to Trey. 

I handed out the physical portfolios I had meticulously prepared, one each for Lance and Trey. With Josh's unexpected presence, I quickly adapted, giving him the portfolio intended for myself. I didn't want to exclude him or make him feel like an afterthought in any way. To compensate, I pulled out my tablet, ready to flip through the digital copy of my work.

Lance, however, seemed more interested in cutting straight to the chase than perusing the portfolio I handed him. He placed it unopened on the arm of the couch next to him, his focus clearly elsewhere. “I’d like to start with Trey. I want to see the product,” he stated, his voice carrying that familiar tone of decisiveness.

I glanced at Trey, who nodded, seemingly prepared for his father's direct approach. Trey picked up a duffel bag that was seated on the floor next to him. And proceeded to place all of his new creations for the athletic line. We talked about each piece. And quickly moved through the swimwear line. 

Lance was quick to dismiss a few of the garments. Trey was quick to defend them. I sensed an opportunity to bridge the gap between Lance's business-minded approach and Trey's creative passion. "If I may make a suggestion," I interjected, hoping to offer a solution that would satisfy both parties.

Lance turned his attention to me, indicating his willingness to hear me out. “Please,” he said.

I explained my perspective, aiming to bring a practical yet creative angle to the table. “It’s easy to look at a garment on a rack or a shelf. But that doesn’t really give you a feel for how it will truly look. Let’s photograph them all. Each garment on two or three different models. I’ll put together a spread for each one. Then we can make decisions based on that.”

I could see Trey’s expression change as I spoke, his eyes lighting up with gratitude. He mouthed the words “Thank you,” an acknowledgment that felt like a small victory in aligning our visions.

Encouraged by their response, I continued. “That approach will also help us put together a more cohesive line. A specific garment may look amazing in isolation, but it might not fit with the line as a whole. However, even if a piece doesn't align with this season's collection, it doesn’t mean it goes to waste. This isn’t technology; nothing gets outdated here. We could hold onto it and use it in the next season.”

Lance nodded thoughtfully, considering my words. Trey, meanwhile, seemed relieved at the suggestion, likely happy to see his designs given a chance to shine in their intended context.

This was the kind of collaborative discussion I had hoped for – a blending of creative and practical, design and marketing, all coming together to create a product that was not only visually stunning but also marketable. As the conversation progressed, I felt a growing sense of excitement about the project's potential and my role in bringing it to fruition.

With my suggestion setting a constructive tone, we all picked up our portfolios and began discussing the models in detail. Each of us shared our thoughts on which pieces from Trey's line would suit each model. The conversation didn't exactly follow the orderly flow I had envisioned, but in many ways, this departure from the plan was a positive sign. It meant that everyone was actively engaged and invested in the creative process.

As we flipped through the portfolios, discussing the merits and potential of each model, the meeting took on a lively, dynamic character. It was fascinating to hear Lance and Trey's perspectives, which often diverged but also complemented each other in unexpected ways. Josh's input was invaluable as well, as he considered the marketability and appeal of each pairing.

I had initially planned to present the models first, followed by the proposed locations for the shoots. However, the conversation naturally evolved, and soon we were intertwining discussions about models with potential shooting locations. This fusion of ideas turned the meeting into what I’d describe as organized chaos.

The dynamic was exhilarating. Ideas were bouncing back and forth, sometimes clashing, but more often than not, leading to innovative concepts we might not have considered in a more structured setting. The challenge of figuring out who should be photographed, and where added a layer of complexity to the project, but it was the kind of complexity that could lead to a truly unique end product.

As the meeting progressed, I felt a growing sense of collaboration and creativity. It was clear that this project was going to be about more than just showcasing a clothing line – it was going to be a tapestry of visions and ideas, each contributing to a whole that was greater than the sum of its parts. I was excited to be a part of this creative whirlwind, ready to contribute my expertise and watch as our collective efforts came to life.

Josh, amidst the fervor of our brainstorming, brought a sense of order with his pragmatic approach. "These are all great ideas, but we aren't making any decisions," he observed. His next move caught me off guard in the best possible way. He opened his portfolio and, to my surprise, began removing the pages.

He walked over to a large whiteboard in the room, which I hadn't noticed was magnetic. Methodically, he started placing the pages on it, creating a visual collage of our ideas. The room quieted down a bit as we watched him work, intrigued by this sudden shift in our discussion method.

“Let’s each pick our three favorite locations,” Josh proposed once he had all the pages displayed. “If no one selects it, it comes off the board.”

It was a simple yet brilliant solution. By visually laying out our choices, we could better assess our options and make more informed decisions. The process he suggested was democratic and efficient, cutting through the potential for endless debate.

My choices were strategic yet intuitive. The gym was a no-brainer for me; it offered the most versatility in terms of settings and themes. Additionally, I chose two of the houses, each with its own unique character that I felt could enhance the aesthetics of the clothing line.

As the process continued, everyone contributed their selections, guided by Josh's efficient methodology. The original list of about 20 options was gradually whittled down to just six, through a collaborative process of elimination. I was pleased to see the gym make the final cut, along with a well-rounded mix of other locations.

Next, Josh moved us to selecting models for each location. "Ok, next, let's pick three models for each location," he instructed, maintaining the momentum of our decision-making process.

An idea sparked in my mind, and I voiced it out. “What if, we select three models for each location and two models for all locations? We can narrow it down from there. This way, we have a couple of models who can be the ‘faces of the line’ for this season.” It felt like a solid strategy, allowing for both diversity and a consistent branding element across the various shoots.

Lance, who had been following the conversation with a keen eye, immediately warmed to the suggestion. "I like that," he said approvingly. "Let's do it."

However, Lance added his own twist to the selection process. He wanted to see everyone else's choices before revealing his own. It was a tactical move, typical of Lance's style, ensuring that he had a comprehensive view of our preferences before adding his input. 

Lance scrutinized the models we had each chosen, displayed prominently on the whiteboard. My own selection prominently featured Nico for all locations, a choice I felt strongly about given his potential and the unique appeal he brought to the table. I watched Lance carefully, curious about his reaction.

After a thorough review, Lance surprised us a bit. He stated that we had already picked his choice, but he kept it ambiguous, not specifying which model he was referring to. It was a classic Lance move, keeping his cards close to his chest while still being involved in the decision-making process.

Josh, ever the organizer, steered us to the next step. “OK, now let's narrow it down. We've got six models for all locations, and an additional fifteen across the various locations. How many do we want?" he asked, his tone pragmatic.

This was the crux of our task – to distill our choices further to a manageable number that would best represent the clothing line. We needed a balance, enough variety to showcase the range of garments and locations, but not so many that it diluted the impact of the campaign.

Lance interjected decisively before we could further narrow down our choices. “No,” he said firmly, “I want to see how this group goes. We can narrow it down to a smaller group after this first round of shots.” His approach was to cast a wide net initially, a strategy that suggested a willingness to explore a range of possibilities before making final decisions.

Josh, ever mindful of the practicalities, raised a valid point. “We will need to re-evaluate the budget,” he observed, his tone matter-of-fact. “This is going to take a lot more time than we initially planned.”

Lance’s response was quick and reassuring. “I'm okay with splurging a bit to make sure it’s a successful launch.” His commitment to the project’s success was evident, indicating his willingness to invest in its potential.

Trey's reaction to his father's words was heartening. He was visibly elated, almost as if he had received the most unexpected and cherished gift. The joy was unmistakable on his face as he couldn't contain himself and wrapped Lance in a huge hug. It was a rare display of emotion that underscored the importance of this project to him.

Lance, for his part, maintained a bit of his usual reserve, but the affection was evident in his response to Trey's embrace. It was a touching moment, one that revealed the deeper bond between father and son beyond their professional relationship.

This development was a significant one. It not only reflected the trust and support within the team but also underscored the project's ambition. As a photographer, it was both an exciting and daunting prospect – the scope of the project was growing, presenting both challenges and opportunities.

Lance's laughter followed Trey's enthusiastic hug, lightening the atmosphere in the room. "Not a word of this to your brothers," he said in a jovial tone, still smiling. "They will expect the same treatment when it’s their turn."

Trey, still beaming with joy, responded with a playful assurance. "My lips are sealed," he said, the promise underscored by his evident happiness.

Lance's response was affectionately skeptical. "I'll believe that when I see it," he said, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and fondness. 

As we were wrapping up our discussion, a knock on the door momentarily diverted our attention. We turned to see TJ standing at the threshold, an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry to interrupt,” he began, addressing Lance. “I need your signature. Alex isn’t around, and I need a signature on the PO for the new prototyping equipment.”

TJ's interruption, though brief, was a reminder of the bustling activity and myriad responsibilities that filled Lance's day. With a nod, Lance beckoned him over, smoothly transitioning from our creative brainstorming session to the more administrative aspect of his role.

TJ handed Lance a tablet, and while Lance reviewed the document before signing, TJ flashed me the most devilish smile. Clearly intended to remind me of our tryst in the maze. It had the desired effect. I was instantly horny. The entire night came rushing back to me. Including my interactions with Josh. Where he very clearly pointed out to me that he would fuck me. The real question is, when. I found myself wanting it. 

Lance signed the tablet and handed it back to TJ. Who promptly excused himself. Trey, I had only just noticed, never took his eyes off TJ. That was a look of hunger and desperation. A hunger far more powerful than any of the looks I had given Lance, TJ, or even Liam. Trey had it bad. I wonder if TJ knows. The whole thing honestly gave me a bit of a laugh. 

Lance snapped his fingers right in front of Trey’s face, snapping him out of whatever daydream he was in. “Stop eye fucking my employees.”

Instinctively. I could just hear Lance complete the statement in my head. “That’s my job.” He didn’t say the words. He didn’t need to. But I still heard them. 

“Okay,” he stated, “I have another meeting to get to. Make it happen.”

Lance headed out, and I couldn’t help but watch as he did. Trey caught me and just shook his head. We agreed to meet in a few days to begin setting a schedule for all of this. 

After leaving Lance's office, I headed down to the first floor where the HR offices were located. As I approached Ethan's office, I could see Liam seated across from him at the desk. They were deep in conversation, but Ethan looked up as I neared, his expression shifting to one of warm recognition.

“There he is,” Ethan said, standing to greet me. His approach was familiar and affectionate – a stark contrast to the formalities of the business meetings. He wrapped me in a hug and gave me a kiss, a gesture that instantly made me feel more at ease.

I returned the embrace and then turned to greet Liam. “Hey, Liam,” I said, acknowledging his presence with a friendly nod.

Liam leaned forward with an eagerness that was palpable, clearly interested in hearing about the progress of the project. “So, how’s it all going, Lucas? I’ve been really eager to find out,” he said, his tone laced with genuine curiosity.

I took a seat, feeling a sense of camaraderie in the room. “It’s actually going really well,” I began, my enthusiasm evident in my voice. “I just had a productive meeting with Lance, Trey, and Josh. We’ve mapped out the models and locations, and the whole thing is starting to come together.”

As I delved into the details of the meeting, describing the dynamic between Lance, Trey, Josh, and myself, Liam listened intently. His interest seemed to deepen as I talked about the creative process and the decisions we were making. “Sorry, I’m rambling. I am sure you will hear all of this again from Josh.”

“No worries. I find it interesting to hear the different perspectives. What did you think of Trey?”

“I like him,” I responded, honestly. “He’s easy to work with.” I laughed, thinking about the way he was staring at TJ.

“What?” Liam asked. Realizing I omitted something. 

“He’s got it bad for TJ.”

“Who doesn’t?” Liam remarked with a knowing grin. 

I swiped through my tablet and turned it to Ethan. The photo showed Nico in athletic shorts, his shirt casually pulled halfway up, revealing a hint of his toned physique. The shot captured his face perfectly – that adorable, approachable look that I knew would resonate well with audiences.

“Meet one of our new main models,” I announced a hint of pride in my voice.

Ethan's reaction was one of genuine surprise. “Nico? Really? How did you manage that? I didn’t even know he modeled.”

As Ethan handed the tablet to Liam for a closer look, I explained, “This is his first time. It was Reiley’s idea.” I said it with a small shrug, knowing full well it wasn’t entirely Reiley’s suggestion. But in the broader context of how things unfolded, Reiley certainly deserved some credit for bringing Nico into my sphere.

Liam examined the photo, a look of appreciation forming on his face. “He’s sexy,” he commented, his tone a mix of approval and mild surprise. I

“We’re thinking he could be one of the faces of the line for this season,” I added, eager to share more about the direction we were taking.

Liam, having offered his insights and comments, stood up from his seat. “Well, I’ll let you two be,” he said with a casual, friendly tone, acknowledging that Ethan and I might have more to discuss privately. I stood to give him a hug, which he returned. Except he did something I didn’t expect. Instead of the traditional hug. He grabbed my ass. And whispered in my ear. “Can’t wait.” I was a bit too shocked to even notice if Ethan saw what happened. He pulled back with a huge mischievous grin and left the office. 

“You may want to activate the privacy windows,” I said as I closed and locked the door after Liam left. 

Ethan smiled and asked. “Really?”

I just nodded as I made my way around to his side of the desk, dropping down to my knees in front of him as he reached over and pressed the button, causing the window to his office to fog over, preventing anyone from seeing in. 

I ran my hands along the length of his shaft through his slacks, which was already stiff. “Someone’s in the mood,” I said with a smile, as I reached for his belt. 

“Me? How about you?” He laughed.

I freed his cock and started to slowly stroke him. He let his head relax back into his chair as I licked the length of his shaft. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. Given his job, it wouldn’t be long before someone was knocking on his door. How do I know? Experience. 

I took the head of his cock into my mouth and continued stroking him. Slowly I took more and more of him into my mouth. In any other situation, I would take my time, get him really worked up, and then try to ride him. But, not in the office. The only time he is willing to fuck me in his office is after hours. Even then, he’s his overly cautious self, never really letting himself get into it. 

My real pleasure in all of it is hearing him moan. Knowing I am pleasing him. It turns me on. This would tide me over until he gets home. And I would insist on one of us getting fucked. 

I kept sucking and stroking him. Quickening my pace as I did it. he brought his hand down on the back of my head and started moving his hips, fucking my mouth and my hand. 

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned and started to get into it, more so than usual when in his office.

His other hand came down and he started to control my motions even more. I loved it. Maybe he was finally starting to let loose a bit. 

His hips were moving, he was actively working to fuck my face. His thrusts were getting deeper and deeper each time. The further he went in me, the more he was moaning. I couldn’t look up at him with the way he held my head, controlling every movement. 

“Fuck yeah, just like that baby.” He moaned. Pushing deeper and deeper. His pace increased as he was getting closer and closer to unloading in my mouth. 

“Yes.” He moaned over and over. “GOD YEAH. SO CLOSE.” He said. Forcing me down further and further. Had it not been for my hand still wrapped around his shaft. He might have forced himself into my throat. It was an aggressive side of him that I rarely see. 

I pulled my hand away, hoping he would really start to fuck my face before unloading. And he did. He pushed my face down into his crotch and just held me there as I felt his cock erupting into my mouth. He didn’t let up right away like he usually does either. He held me there until he was completely done. 

He let go, allowing me to pull back and take a breath. “Fuck, sorry baby.” He said while cupping my face in his palm. “But fuck that was good. Are you ok?”

“I’m great,” I told him with a smile. “Just bring that energy to bed tonight.”

He laughed. “I’ll try.”