Running a stock brokerage uptown is hard. When I inherited it, many
People figured I would fail, but I'm still there. I work hard at it,
really Hard, and I've made it. I grew up in this business, but I moved
away when I turned eighteen. I worked in advertising and never figured
on a career in the stock market. When my Dad passed away and the
business fell to me, although, I had some very serious considerations.
The "family business" was a going concern, four employees, and every
one of them had a cock. I had long ago decided I was gay and often
thought of the possibilities, but I knew better than to fuck with the
hired hands. A few of them tried to come on to me, in fact, when I was
in the office, thinking that if they could lay the boss's son, they'd
soon be partners in a going concern. Wrong! Any stud who tried to
fondle me or show me his cock was out of there faster than cheap beer
through a wino. I had urges, though. I contained them with the
employees, but one of those guys really got to me. His name was
Christopher, Alex Christopher and I thought he was just right. He
always dressed to the nines, almost always in white. He was blond and
tall. He also had a blond mustache. Something else about Christopher
appealed to me. He was a fucking animal. I knew it. He used snuff, for
one thing, and he worked out every week in the fitness gym. He smelled
of tobacco and.maaaaaaaaan. He wasn't our most productive agent, but he
was my favorite to look at. He was intensely masculine. He had a body
like the stud pictured on the condom machine in the rest room. I could
see his physique through his clothes. I never approached him, though,
when Dad was running the company But when he died, and I was in the
driver's seat, I had some heavy thoughts about Mr. Christopher One
evening I was in the office alone after hours, going through some of
the paperwork, and he walked through the door. I nodded to him. That
particular day, he wore a grey Calvin Klein three-piece suit, a Grey
one. He really looked "downtown." I don't know why, but that, suit
really emphasized his, sexual equipment. The soft grey fabric outlined
Christopher's crotch-bulge perfectly. I could see that was Definitely
not a shortie. The bulge at his fly was stallion-size. I started to
pass the time of day, but before I could say anything, Christopher drew
a pistol out of his pocket! Then I was scared! "Hey, what's going on?"
I blurted. What was he upset about? Had he gone nuts? Why was he
carrying a gun? My blood ran cold as he opened his mouth to speak.
"C'mon outa there with your hands up!" Huh? From behind me stepped a
man with hands in the air. In his right hand, aimed at the ceiling! I
gazed in horror. Christopher had caught an armed robber! I immediately
dialed nine-one-one and summoned the cops. While the police were on
their way, I tied up the robber with a telephone cord. I spoke to
Christopher gratefully, in a shaking voice, "You probably saved my
life! You scared the hell out of me, though, but thanks." He smiled.
"Didn't have time for words." After the police came, arrested the
robber, and filled out their reports, Christopher lingered in the
office and we sat and shot the bull. I was still shaken from the
experience but had developed another emotion about as strong. I stood
up and moved a little closer to him. "You got any close friends?" I
asked. "No," he said, and he blushed! I inched over, moving close.
"That's strange," I murmured in a low voice. "You look like a real hunk
to me." He smiled at that, and I could see the stars would go to be
lucky for me that night. "Let me take you out for a drink. Ever been to
the Trojan Slave?" he asked. "No. Is that a bar?" "Yeah. I think you'll
like it. We can go in my car." Once on the road in his Beemer, I sat so
close to him, my shoulders brushed his. He looked into my face with a
little smile. At a stoplight, I took his chin in my hand, lifted his
mouth to mine and kissed him. Then I put my hand on that giant bulge in
his crotch, and was he hung! It was solid meat--no folds of cloth in
there! "Lemma does something to show you my gratitude," I purred in his
ear, biting it. He grunted, and I could feel his heart pounding. I
pulled down his zipper and got it out. Damn, that boy had a banana the
size of a shotgun barrel and longer than a ticker tape! I stroked it,
and it hardened! I played with it, and he writhed happily in his seat,
then he felt a sucking mouth on his big gearshift! I gasped. He was
really stupendous; big-cocked and with a luscious pair of balls. I
teased his pecker, which burgeoned into something even bigger in my
mouth! My tongue snaked and writhed around his cockhead, and my hand
cupped his balls and grabbed hold of his cockshaft. I was in heat in a
second! After a few seconds of that treatment, I unloaded such a wad of
come, I knew I got a two-ball shot! I choked and gulped at the amount
of sperm that boy could shoot! He shot me so much of his masculine
sour-cream, it dripped down my chin and splattered all over the place.
We never made it to the Trojan Slave. "How'd you like to stop by my
place?" he said as soon as he could speak. "Yeah," I grunted. Once in
his apartment, I thought we were going to have good old' session of
sex, but he surprised me. He wrapped a loop of cord around my wrists
and pulled them behind my back. "Goanna lasso me in?" I chuckled, but
he pulled that rope tight! He got some leather thongs from a drawer.
"Wondered when I'd get to use these," he muttered. "Hey, just a damn
minute," I gasped, but he wrapped a leather gag over my mouth! It was
an old thing, and it stunk! As he put it on me, I realized from the
smells that it was a leather jockstrap. I tried to struggle away, but
he had me! He looped a leather strap around my ankles and bound them
together. "Now, boss," he grunted with a bass voice, "let's see what
you've got!" With that, he got out a carving knife! While I held my
breath, he sank the blade under the waistband of my pants and SLASHED!
With more swipes of that razor-sharp blade, he slit the legs of my
pants open. Then he simply pulled my slashed pants away He cut away the
pants of $700 suit! With another slash, my jockey shorts became white
cotton ribbons. "Yeah, there it is," he chortled as my rampant cock
sprang up to slap against my belly. He had destroyed a good set of
clothes, but I had never been so erotically stripped in my life. If I
weren't bound so tightly in his ropes and leather thongs, I would have
sucked his cock off! He wasn't finished, though. He brought out a
shorter, finer leather thong like a black cowhide shoestring. He
wrapped it around my scrotum and cinched it tight! "MMMMM!" I gasped
through the leather gag! Strangling my balls like that sent a stab of
pain through my groin! Then he picked me up and laid me face-down over
a leather footstool in front of his TV set. Next he unbound my ankles,
but he tied one to the leg of the couch and the other to the handle of
a corner table. I was as splayed out as a whore. I looked back. I felt
my cock dripping pre-cum as I saw him stripping for action! He undid
the buttons of his vest, then his shirt, and his pecks were
magnificent, his nipples hard, pointed knobs. He unzipped his pants and
let them drop, then grasped his underwear and pulled it down. I saw his
big cock again. He had a meat like Hercules, with a huge corona. He had
what it took to turn me on. His smooth, red shaft was at least 10
inches long. It jerked in his grip, springing from golden yellow
prick-hairs in a thatch between his thighs. He crawled onto my back
like the stockbrokers' bull, and his knotted chest hair grazed my back
with a tickling scratch. Upending my rump, he wasted no time in lodging
his big cock flare at the opening of my juicy hole. With a grunt and a
lunge, that urban cowboy slid his cock in my ass like it was a bullet
from his pistol. The bulbous cockhead massaged my colon walls on the
way in. "Ah, yeah, boss," he breathed, sinking in me to his balls,
"you're a fuckin' good ride!" He ground himself into me, driving that
pole. My arms were jammed behind me, so I couldn't stroke myself, but
his humping rubbed my prick back and forth on the leather footstool,
most erotic of all surfaces. That drove me toward the supreme pleasure
of a climax. I rode that footstool on a one-way trip to sexual glee.
"Now," he panted, "I've got something special." I couldn't see what he
was doing, but I felt him fumbling at my crotch, at the joining of our
bodies. He yanked at the tight thong around my balls, bringing more
groans from me. "Umph," he grunted, "now we're fuckin' together. That
thong around your balls is attached to my balls!" Huh? He's strapped
our balls together? One of us is going to get his balls torn off! I
tried to struggle away, but I was helpless, strung up like a side of
beef. When he started fucking again, he yanked my balls back with every
out-stroke. I could hear him gasping, so I knew he was in pain, too.
What a fuck! Pure pleasure with every ram of that huge cock into me,
dizzying pain every time he pulled out! Again and again and again, we
went through the pleasure-pain cycle. Even though I was in pain from
the tight thongs he had bound over me, I drove my hips up to match his
gouging dong. My senses reeled as fantastic vibrations blasted through
me. Our ragged, panting breathing, feeling his dick nestled in my butt,
and smelling the tobacco and sweat of his body was as thrilling as
watching a glorious Western sunset. The stabbing pains of his
fuck-strokes built a super-discharge in my guts. He caught me around
the waist and urged me on. "Yeah, boss, yeah! Ram those hips back at
me, fuck me back. Yeah!" I came first! I spurted all over his
footstool. Then he came. He filled my ass so full of cum, I shit cream
for two days. He untied me after he got his climax and rested for a
bit. My wrists and ankles were sore, but the pain was almost like a
sexual afterglow. I said, "Give me a pair of pants to wear back to the
house. That was the horniest stripping and fuck I ever got...but I
don't have anything to wear." "Yeah, boss, sure," he said. Then the
apartment door opened, and the rest of my employees came trooping
through it! Young had his cock out, working his up jutting shaft.
Warwick and tom was pulling their pants open as he walked through the
door, and Van Owen had a look on his face that let me know I was in for
it. This was a real setup. I was already dangerously horny, and in the
mood for anything. I groped my own meat back to full hardness. Young
dropped to his knees on the floor. Catching on, I dropped over the
footstool again, and raised his pecker in my hand to suck it into my
mouth! No sooner did I do that than Warwick got the last of his clothes
off, and as nude as the day he was born, he dropped onto me in
Christopher's place! This time, though, I wasn't bound up, and my hands
were free. I didn't need them to stimulate myself, though. This was
going to be one hell of a stockbrokers' fuck session! Van Owen stood
there, watching us for a few minutes. The other guys made love to me
like desperate fuckers, grinding me back and forth and up and down. I
knew that when we reached it, this one would be a long, stupendous
orgasm. Then Van Owen rolled onto his back, slid under my hips, and
with a whoop, I felt my cock slide into his hot, wet mouth! Yeah!
Warwick held my waist, helping me, rutting like a machine. I was so
frenzied with lust, I could feel my hot froth moving to the surface too
quickly.
But I couldn't slow down! Young's cock was like a bottle of fine brandy-
-I was drunk after a few sips. The footstool squeaked in a horny
rhythm. Then I got a glimpse of what Christopher was doing. He, like
the rest of us, was stark naked, and he had slung himself in a leathery
harness. It sus- pended from the ceiling, and the black straps extended
down his firm body to his legs. The harness splayed his legs out wide,
reminding me of what he had done to me earlier. I got a full view of
his wrinkled asshole! With a pull at a couple of straps, he lowered
himself onto my back, and I realized that he had set himself up for a
rim job by Warwick! I had never seen the like this. He had a real
sex-setup in here! Hanging in that horny harness, he was as open and
helpless as a male could get. I also saw that leather thong around his
balls. Warwick grabbed that strap and pulled himself over by the balls!
He groaned, but when he was within range, I heard Warwick's tongue
slurping at Christopher's asshole. My own crotch-eel swelled into an
erection bigger than any I had ever had! I heard he writhing in the
harness, Warwick's cock rammed me into another physical state, and Van
Owens's mouth was like a furnace over my dong. I sucked Young with all
my strength! I couldn't stand it! That did it for me. I clutched at
Young, humped my hips back at Warwick, and jabbed down at Young. I
heard the schluck- schluck-schluck sounds of our strokes. All of us
blasted off at more or less the same time. I personally came in a
flood, filling Van Owens's mouth with searing hot jizz. Young did the
same. His jizz gushed down my throat, filled my mouth, and slopped over
my chin, dripping onto the floor. I felt from the vibrations that
Christopher and tom was jacking off as Warwick gave Christopher a
rim-job, and I felt burning splatters of cum hit my naked back. Then
Warwick let loose in me, shooting his wad until there wasn't a drop of
fluid left in his balls. When we finally untangled ourselves, we had,
as you can imagine, a new management/labor relationship. I had always
thought that sex with the employees would make for a bad business
situation. That hasn't turned out to be the case. Work goes on at the
brokerage. Profits are up. The big difference is in what goes on in the
back room during break