Friday Negotiations

Friday negotiations are the worst. The entire weekend gets put on hold in case a compromise isn’t met. I don’t know who scheduled it this way, but I want to find them and hurt them.

We’re negotiating the absorption of a smaller company. Actually, it’s closer to a hostile takeover. These guys are not happy—neither am I. I’m stuck in this room with a bunch of guys in suits. I’ve got a five day backup in my balls. Fantasies abound.



It’s Monday and I’m heading home from work. I catch a drink at a sleazy bar near work. The guys are hot, but they are avoiding the asshole in the suit: me. Frustrated, I leave.

I cut through a notoriously dangerous alley on my way back to my car. I’ve gotten more action in this alley than I’ve been mugged, so I’m willing to risk it. I pass by two couples who are going for it, big time. One couple is fucking: pants down to their ankles, leaning against the wall and groaning like animals. They are in clear view of the street.

The other couple, not too far from the first, also have their pants down, and jerking each other off. Right underneath the lamp to the delivery door. The older guy is chewing on a younger guy’s neck. The younger guy is looking at me. I’m sure he can only see that someone is walking by and this exhibitionist is getting off on it.

I continue on.

I see a guy standing just beyond the reach of one of the few working lamps. Jeans, t-shirt, leaning back, one leg against the wall. It’s a cliché for whore, but that’s what I’m looking for.

I walk over. He’s not too tall, nice body—but not too built—dark hair, and looks mostly harmless. I run my hand across his t-shirt. I check his pecs and his abs. Nothing to write home about, but okay.

He says hello. I put my hand over his mouth. I slide my hand under his shirt: silky smooth. Nice. I cup his buldge. It grows with my grasp. I look into his eyes.



I stop. “How old are you?” He tells me 21. Bullshit. I reach back and grab his wallet. I push him back and flip the wallet open in the light. 18. From Missouri. I hand him back his wallet. Fuck, now that I’ve got a better look at him, he looks like a little kid.

“Do you know where you are and what the fuck you’re doing?” I hiss. He’s traveling with his dad. Tells me he’s been doing it since he was 15. “Are we doing this or not?” he whispers.

I squat in front of him. His jeans are tight around his hard buldge. I lift his shirt, his cock is poking up, the head out above his waistband. I give it a lick.

I kiss his stomach as I undo his belt and jeans. No underwear. His ample dick doesn’t move. He’s fully hard against his stomach. I pull it down and begin sucking on it. I move down the shaft and bury my nose in his pubes. Pulling back, I feel his foreskin. Ah, farmboys and their thick uncut dicks.

I suck for a while on his dick, playing with the foreskin, gently licking and sucking on the head, playing with the shaft. He’s got a nice dick. It deserves to be treated right. His balls have tightened, so I stop. I don’t want him to blow and leave me hanging.

I stand. I don’t have to push on his shoulders, he drops automatically. He pulls out my rod and strokes it to bring it to full arousal. The kid respects the cock. He treats it well: gentle kisses, soft strokes, no teeth.

He quickly finds a nice rhythm. I place my hands on his shoulders and let him go. I’m pumping his face. He’s good. Too good. I feel my balls stir. I give him a warning. He keeps sucking. I tell him I’m close. He sucks harder.

My insides turn. I feel the build up. I’m so God-damned close—it feels so great. I grunt and nut in his mouth.

The boy does not stop. He keeps pumping until my shaft is drained. He stands. I lean in and kiss him. He seems surprised. I guess guys that fuck in alleys don’t kiss.

I see a red flash.

The cops have busted one of the couples at the end of the alley. I bend over and take the kid’s rod in my mouth. I’m not sure if I’m going to get him there, so I tell him to jack off in my mouth. He does. Big load.

We zip up and head out away from the cops. They will be driving down here in a minute.

The kid follows me for a while. At a stoplight, I look at him. Shit. He’s even younger looking than I thought. Cuter, too. I end up giving him a ride home. I think we say six words to each other total, including “thanks” and “good bye.”

My Monday nut feels very far away.

I’m not at the big table in our largest conference room. That’s for the big boys. I sit on the side with a member of my team, waiting to present. I have to stay all day in case questions come up that my team’s research and analysis can answer.

I end up making my presentation at 3:00pm. My team looks awesome. Every question has a ready response. I know a few guys at my company do not like it when one group shines. We fucking glimmer, so they throw some curve balls. Todd—a numbers machine—fires back at each question perfectly. We’re so good, I got a little wood.

We break at 6:30. Dinner wasn’t planned so we decide to break for two hours. The big guys head off somewhere together—their assistants frantically calling airlines, hotels, etc. to make changes.

I meet with my team for ten. We discuss any needed further research. Todd takes it on. I order the team pizza and decide to go for a run.

My run does not take me on my normal route. I find myself heading towards a bar I know. A bar with a notoriously filthy backroom. Usually, it’s not busy at this hour, but on Fridays, it does okay.

I walk in to the bar and start for the back. Standing at the counter are two guys we are taking over. We chat. They clearly know where they are and what they are doing. They ask if I’m going into the back. “That’s why I’m here.”

I leave them and go behind the heavy leather curtains.

The area is dark, save for a red lamp in the corner. One guy is jacking off. Nice dick, but I decide to move on.



The room angles back into an blue light. I head back there. Five guys are standing around jacking off watching two guys going at it. None of them are that interesting.



I go further back towards the dim amber light. Two suits are back there. Long, thick cocks hanging. It’s as if they are waiting for me. Both are older—late 40’s/early 50’s. Great shape. Handsome.

One of them is clearly the Alpha male. Just a bit better than the other guy: bigger, more handsome, better hung, uncut. I kneel onto the dirty floor before him and pull out my dong. If the other guy were there alone, I would have gladly jumped on his dick. He pales in comparison to this god-of-a-man. It’s good to be the King.

I don’t grab at his dick. He may not want me. I open my mouth and look up. He answers by sticking his meat in my mouth. King grabs my head and pulls my face forward and mumbles something. His hands block my ears.



King pumps my face. I open wide and let him fuck the hole. I run my hands over his muscled thighs. I would love to drop his pants and lick them, but I don’t think he wants his $600 slacks hitting the filthy floor: as I shift, I can feel the dried cum on the floor.

I reach over and grab onto his buddy’s dong. He’s rock hard. I push a little, and feel his big balls. It doesn’t take long for King to unload. He starts fucking a little faster and then dumps in my mouth. I drain King and start to turn to Buddy.



Buddy starts cumming before I can get to his dong. The first shot hits my neck, the second my lips. I catch the remaining shots. Buddy never makes a sound. I can’t even hear him breathing.

The two zip up and leave without a word.

I stand and turn around. Another guy is in the room. Not my type at all. He reaches for my dick. I push him away. He tries again. I smack his hand. He tries again. I raise my fist.

He smiles.



Bitch likes the abuse. I grab him by the throat and move him to the corner. I tell him to sit—he drops instantly. “Stay, bitch, stay.” I command. “You move when I tell you.” I tell him to pull it out—if he’s lucky, I’ll piss on him later. He moans “thank you, sir.”

Putz.

I spit on him. He laughs. Whatever.

I turn back and a barista my Starbucks is there. I have cruised this guy for months—he never gives me a second look. He’s looking today. I’m not sure if it’s King’s cum or the adrenaline from commanding Pussy to do as my bidding, but I’m ON.



I wave him over and point at my dick. He drops and is on it. I run my hands through his hair. I always thought it was too long, right now it feels good. His mouth is fantastic. He takes it all down. Barista treats my dick right. But he doesn’t forget my balls or taint. Good customer service.

The two guys I saw from the meeting walk back. Their dicks aren’t out, but they are hard. Pussy asks if he can suck them. I spit at Pussy and tell him to shut the fuck up. He thanks me. I notice that Pussy has his dick out. It’s fucking huge. I’m still not into him, but I gotta give respect to a giant schlong.

I wave the guys over. They do a double take on Pussy. The two guys have a similar build. 6’1”, 190, brown/brown. They are nice looking ,but one is clearly more handsome than the other. Handsome pulls out his dick. It’s decent. Definitely suckable. The Other One pulls out his dick. Very thick. Definitely fuckable.



I push Barsita off my rod and onto The Other One. I drop and take Handsome’s dick into my mouth. Pussy moans loudly. His dick stinks. Total musk. I lick his crotch clean and suck on his hairy balls. His cock is oozing precum. Like me, he’s a big dripper. I pull his shaft into my mouth and try and suck all the precum out of it.

The Other One nuts. His moan is high pitched and a little annoying. “Ee-ee-eeh! Ee-ee-eeh! Ee-ee-eeh!” I guess Handsome likes that because he blows too. His load is surprisingly plentiful.



I stand. Handsome starts to pull away. I grab his hand and pull down. He does not want to reciprocate and resists. I lean forward, “You want a job when we take over?” I have no power, but after shining at that meeting today, he thinks I might.

I move to the wall, so I can sit on the high bench. He won’t have to kneel and ruin his slacks. I pull my cock out through the leg whole, so I’m not sitting bare assed on years of DNA. He sucks well. His hands rub my thighs as he swallows my cock.

I look over at Barista and The Other One. Barista is begging for something. The Other One is resisting. I have no idea what the discussion is, but Barista is almost crying.

Pussy says something. The Other One and I shout “shut the fuck up” in unison. I hock a loogi. The Other One follows in kind. Pussy is happy again.

Handsome is really into my balls. Yeah, they’re big, and he fucking loves them. He pulls slightly on them which makes me quiver.

The Other One is obliging Barista’s request: he’s pissing in his mouth. Barista is leaning back and The Other One is letting a stream of warm piss flow into Barista’s waiting throat.



That’s it for me: I nut onto Handsome’s handsome face. No warning. Just jizz. He stuffs my cock into his mouth to get the remains of my load.

He moves up to look me in the eye. “Did I pass the interview?”

I tell him I probably won’t have any decision in the matter—but I will give him a stellar recommendation. He smiles.

We start to leave. Pussy is still in the corner. He let’s out a disappointed sigh. I look over and ask why he’s still sitting there.

“Get the fuck out here!”

I drag him back into the large red-lighted room. There’s a small crowd in there—nothing like it will be later tonight, but decent. I command him to drop his pants. “Show these real men your only worth!” I hold him by his collar and demand he show them his worthless load.

I ask him if he needs some lube. I don’t wait for an answer and spit on his dick. Handsome and The Other One shoot some slobber onto his schlong as well. I’m pulling so hard on his collar, I think he’s about to lift off the floor. I offer him as a spit bag for the other men standing around. Some cute kid spits in his face and Pussy unloads a huge amount of splooge onto my running shoes.



I immediately have him lick it off.

I run back to the office. I shower, change and make it back into the meeting about 10 minutes late. Handsome and The Other One saved a seat for me. I sit with my team—I can’t be distracted.

We make final agreements at 3:00am. The deal is solid.

I go to shake Handsome’s hand. He slips me his business card and his hotel key. The room number is on the business card. I’m tired.

But not that tired.

Details are a little more fuzzy on Handsome alone. Quick breakdown: we fuck. Fall asleep. Fuck. Sleep. Fuck. Sleep. Eat. Fuck. Fuck, again. Sleep. Fuck. Missing one hotel checkout and two flights back to Chicago.

I should find out who scheduled those meetings on Friday… and thank them.