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Subject: ST: Full-Filling A Fantasy by Quatermass (M/M, oral)
From: Quatermass <misanthrope@aol.com>
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===================

FULL-FILLING A FANTASY

    Did I hear him right? Did he actually say what I thought he said?
    "Pardon me?" I said weakly, feigning ignorance and innocence.
    "I got a tip for ya, right here," the dark-haired businessman
repeated, leaning back in his leather office chair and dropping his
right hand to brush against his crotch. The hungry smile on his face
made it clear that he was propositioning me.
    "We--we're not allowed to accept gratuities," I stammered, using
company policy as a stall tactic, while I secretly considered his offer.
    "This is a private office," he replied. "Whatever happens
here--stays here."
    I had been working the package delivery job for years . . . this was
my ultimate fantasy: getting rug burns on my bare knees (the uniform was
a short-sleeved shirt and shorts) as I gave head to a powerful corporate
executive, while he continued to conduct business--making and taking
important calls, finalizing megabuck deals on his computer. I didn't
often get the chance to see the men I delivered to; secretaries and
personal assistants usually signed for the packages. This time I was
delivering a certified package--addressee's personal signature required.
    "Put it over there," he said, indicating a low shelf across the room
from where he was sitting. "Place it carefully; it's marked 'fragile'."
    "Yes sir, Mr. Valencia," I said as I bent over, giving him a
generous view of my ass in those tight shorts.
    "Yeah!" I thought I heard him say with a low moan. Turning back to
retrieve my PDA/signature board from the edge of his desk, I noted his
eyes wandering from my crotch to my name tag. "Thank you very much,
David," he said as he pulled a twenty from his pocket.
    "Oh, I can't take that. Thank you anyway." I smiled and turned
towards the door.
    "I got a tip for ya, right here."
    I froze, considering my response.

    Obviously, I stayed in that room. After Valencia repeated his
come-on, and I coyly tried to brush him off, he rose to his feet and
moved to lock his office door. It was the middle of the day; I'd be
behind on my deliveries for the rest of the afternoon, but I didn't
care. As he moved around the room, drawing the blinds, I followed him
with my eyes, contemplating what I was about to do.
    There was very little conversation. He took his seat and pushed back
just enough to allow me to position myself beneath his large desk.
Slowly, he rolled forward, inching his inches toward my salivating
orifice. I rested my arms on his thighs and reached my fingers for his
fly. My labored breathing nearly drowned out the light rattle of the
nylon zipper as I slid it down. Reaching one hand inside, I felt a
generous bulge through silk boxers.
    "Pop out my penis," he whispered huskily.
    I readily complied, exposing his thick nine-incher. This was how I
wanted it: him fully clothed, excepting for his beautiful tool--which
was about to be devoured by my greedy mouth. His bronze rod was cut, and
his hefty balls were shaved smooth.
    "Lick my lizard."
    "Gladly," I said, barely finishing the word before the plump
mushroom head plunged past my lips. I caressed the top and bottom of the
shaft with those lips, as my tongue ran along the side. Moving my head
back and forth, I worked that dick. Up, down, all around, balls and ball
sac, shaft and cock head; there was no area of skin left unlicked, no
nerve ending left unstimulated.
    "Suck my serpiente!" he commanded. I dove to obey. His 'serpent'
would indeed be sucked, and I had no thought of stopping until it spat
its 'venom' down my throat.
    My own raging hard-on was threatening to burst the seams of my
shorts. I removed my hands from his gland and continued to suck him
'hands free' while I sought to relieve my personal tension. There was an
audible pop as I released his cock from my mouth, just long enough to
spit on my hand--the better to stroke myself. I soon established an
effective rhythm: spanking my monkey with one hand, stroking the base of
his shaft with the other, simultaneously sucking the head of his
magnificent member.
    It occurred to me that his secretary was aware of the fact that I
was still there, inside the locked office with her boss. I'm sure she
was paid well for her silence and discretion.
    After a few minutes I think I found the right groove. Valencia
suddenly grabbed my head and guided my sucking, freeing my hand to
caress his balls. I felt those balls tighten as he increased the
frequency of my deep throat plunges. Then he released his grip on my
head, his breath coming in short gasps as he began to chant. "Ay, ay,
ay, ay!" I knew my job at this point: maintain a vacuum lock on his dick
while furiously tonguing the head.
    "Oh shit!" he barked, gripping the arm rests of his chair and
thrusting his hips forward. His penis, deep in my throat, pulsed,
sending great gobs of cum down my food hole. "Consume my cum," he said,
gently directing my actions as his throbbing member continued to spew
forth its froth. I swallowed most of it, saving some of it in my mouth
for my next maneuver.
    Using my cum-slicked mouth, I sucked him dry and kept going until
his overstimulated meat finally went flaccid. Next, I gently pushed
against his knees, rolling his chair backwards on the plastic carpet
protector. He sat there, blithely watching me, as I drooled the last
reserve of his cum from my mouth to my dick; then I jacked myself
furiously, with his cum providing the lubrication.
    "Uunnnhhhh!" I grunted, followed closely by the greatest orgasm of
my life. My sperm splattered the carpet protector. I continued to jack
my rapidly shrinking penis until all of those wonderful sensations 
faded.
    Valencia sat there in blissful euphoria, as I located a box of
tissues and cleaned up my mess. As he walked me to the door he handed my
board to me and said, "I hope you're going to have me on your route from
now on; maybe as the last stop of the day?"
    "Count on it," I said, returning his warm smile.
    It wasn't until the end of my shift that I found the $200 he had
slipped into my board. I wasn't offended though; in fact, I made sure
that his office was on my route--last stop of the day--from then on.

The End.

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