by J. J. Hunt
As the lunch hour came and all the staff deserted the office floor, including finance and IT, the only people left were Lara and Deandra. Lara lined up mini bar bottles of alcohol, leading to the small kitchen, like breadcrumbs for her to follow.
In the kitchen, Lara waited, clicking her heels on the floor.
Several minutes later, with a handbag full of bottles clanging together, Deandra appeared. She scowled at Lara. “I can’t believe you’d stoop so low.”
“And I can’t believe you played into it,” Lara said. She snapped her fingers. “Now, let’s talk, because I’m not going down without a fight.”
Deandra dropped her bag on the floor, the sound of glass bottles shattering echoed. She pressed herself up against Lara, their noses touching. “It’s not even about the job, I love my job.” She stroked the side of Lara’s face.
“No?” Lara asked, pushing a finger to Deandra’s lips. Deandra accepted Lara’s finger into her mouth and sucked. “Because from what I recall, you haven’t had a pay raise in over three months, how embarrassing must that feel?” She removed the finger, wiping it on the side of Deandra’s face.
Deandra mushed her lips against Lara’s lips. She pulled away and circled her mouth with her tongue. “That’s because they put my bonuses into rehabilitation, and you can’t rehabilitate drop dead gorgeous.”
Lara kissed Deandra. “This can never happen,” she said. “I don’t want my profile to associate with yours.”
“I have Lindsay Lohan on my list,” Deandra said.
“From rehab?” Lara asked.
Deandra moved back. “She’s locked away in my flat, I give her food, water, and the view of a park, and she gives me multiple orgasms.”
Lara groaned. “Well she’s in her thirties now.” She chuckled to herself, placing a hand beneath Deandra’s chin. “That’s a pity.”
“She might be in her thirties, but her body is firmly planted at a solid twenty-five-year-old gymnast,” she said. “The real tragedy is you, you’re almost fifty.”
Lara gasped. “Take that back you whore.”
“I’ll never do such a thing,” she said.
“Game on.”
TEN
After lunch, everyone appeared in high spirits. It meant they could have a fling with someone on the app, with time to spare for lunch. Usually it meant one of the other, and lunch was often sacrificed if you knew you were going to get laid.
Ollie and Thea reached the LTF stage on the app. After several times, it appears naturally, with a pink hue around their profile. They walked together into the office, holding hands, dropping them at the sight of Veronica’s scowling face, even if the scowl was a permanent fixture and not directed at them.
“Word of warning,” Alexa said, gathering the newbies up again. “Don’t drink too much tonight. I know, the VPs have told us to, but it’s all a test to them. We work in the morning, they don’t. So, at any time after your second free drink, start on water.”
They nodded along to her sound advice.
Jeffrey, their supervisor approached the group moments later. Pointing at them with his jazz fingers, doing a jig in the air. “Usually we don’t go to the bar until after the newbies first week,” he said. “Guess we’re not doing things by the book.”
Veronica approached him from behind. “Rockie,” she said, shoving her hand down the front of his pants. “I’m stressed.”
Jeffrey smirked. “They don’t call me the rock for nothing,” he said, leaving them as Veronica dragged him back to the office with his dick in her hands.
Alexa waited until he’d left and Veronica’s office door was closed. “Trust me, they don’t call him the rock at all, he’s not Dwayne Johnson, he’s not The Rock.”
Although Max silenced his phone, when it vibrated it in his pocket, the phantom brrp sound followed. As it vibrated for the second, third, and fourth time, he pulled it out, glancing around at everyone to see they were all occupied with work; answering calls and responding to emails.
All the messages were from Quin:
I’m prepared.
We can meet in your car after work and talk?
Or fuck?
I have condoms.
It was a true 21st century poem, the cry of a generation who’s first thought after meeting someone was how will they be in bed? after all, a good and healthy sex life is a great foundation in a relationship.
Sure. My car after work. Max replied.
Alexa tapped Max’s arm. “Have you done it yet?”
“What? No?” he said, pushing his phone back in his pocket.
“The email I sent you with that guy’s account? Have you looked at it?”
He sighed a heavy breath of relief. “No, I haven’t received anything.”
“When you do, look at his pictures, I swear his dick is thicker than a beer can,” she said, smacking her lips together. “I can’t even.”
Max clock watched, his heart racing as time crunched by, getting closer and closer to him ultimately giving it all away. He took sharp intakes a breath and drank his way through several pints of water, resulting in an unhealthy toilet habit.
There was nothing significant to note about 5 P.M. no bell, no chime, nothing to tell them they could leave. The sound of people racing toward the bathrooms to get changed signalled it was time and Max’s heart raced once more.
He’d already changed into a nice shirt with a zig-zagged pattern in multiple colours; the most colourful shirt he owned, and had bought it to wear once he moved to London, wearing it back home would’ve signalled him as gay, and that was the last issue he wanted.
“Ready?” Alexa asked. “You should get to the bar before Lara and Deandra pull another stunt and we end up paying for our own drinks.”
“Gotcha.” Max grabbed his phone and office key card from his desk and rushed off. He looked around to see if he could find Quin, but he’d vanished.
Waiting outside Max’s car, Quin stood, pushing a hand through his hair. There was a darkness in Quin’s eyes and the closer Max walked toward him, the hotter the heated stare became.
“Finally,” Quin said. “Open up.”
“Uh?” he gulped hard.
“Open the car.”
Max stroked the hairs on the back of his neck. “Yeah.”
The carpark was at capacity, and they were in the middle of it all. He opened the backseat passenger door and they climbed inside.
Quin looked around, patting his hands on the plush material. “It’s nice.” He hooked his hands under Max’s balls, taking a large handful of him.
“I think sooo.” He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes. “Just so we’re clear—”
“I know, you’re a virgin,” Quin said, before going in for a kiss.
Max pushed back. “No, I’m not a virgin. I’ve just never had sex with a guy before.”
“That’s fine, I’m not judging,” Quin said, pursuing the kiss again.
They made out for several minutes before Quin unfastened Max’s belt and trousers with a swift motion of his hand, a move he’d had plenty of time to perfect. Quin moved Max’s hands to his cock, hard in his underwear. Max laid Quin in the back and climbed on him to pull his pants off.
He was ticking two things off his bucket list; sex in a car, and sex with a guy. Quin tore his underwear away, letting his thick erection stand to attention. Max sat upright on his legs and stared for minute.
Quin reached out to grab the back of Max’s head. “Go on.” Max gave in willingly, first with his tongue. “I have a condom.”
“I’m not sure I want to—” Max said, pulling away from Quin’s cock.
“For you,” he said. “Fuck me.” Quin grabbed his pants and pulled out the blue foil condom packet.
The windows of the car steamed up quickly in the summer heat and heavy breathing. Sounds of cars being driven away didn’t distract them. They couldn’t see outside, and people could see in.
Quin bounced up and down on Max’s dick as he s
at back in the reclined driver’s seat. He squeezed his hands into Quin’s body and traced an outline of his faint muscular twink body.
They heard familiar voices, but that didn’t stop Quin from pushing down on Max harder.
“Quin, Quin, people are coming,” Max said, curling in on his stomach as he tried to get him to stop and sit upright, but Quin continued. “No, no, no, oh my god, oh—my—fuck—god!” and in the moment, he thrust hard inside Quin and came.
Quin moaned and moments later came across Max’s stomach, hitting the interior roof of the car.
“I told you people were coming,” he said.
Quin slowly pulled himself off Max’s cock. “They can watch if they want, or if they’re paying.”
Max laid back as far as he could in the chair as the cum on his stomach turned cold. “Can I have something?”
Quin threw him a packet of tissues from his pocket. “Always carry these around.”
They cleaned themselves up and redressed. They were twenty minutes late for the party and missed the first round, courtesy of Deandra. A giant neon yellow sign directed them to the bar, Pyramid Bar alongside a flashing pyramid.
Inside, the bar was made up of several booths, and most of those were taken up by employees from the company. It was a bar illuminated by the same neon yellow they had on the sign.
As Max and Quin entered there was a giant clapping wave through the bar, including from those who had zero idea over what was happening. Veronica approached them both with cocktails in hand, as Quin walked off with his head held high, Veronica stopped Max from wondering anywhere.
“We were worried about you,” Veronica said. “Didn’t think you’d have the ability to go through with hooking up, you’re even reluctant to reply to profiles.”
“What?”
“We know everything.”
Max shook his head before taking a sip of the cocktail. “I’m not really a—”
She shook her head and stroked his arm. “Watch your next couple of words, Max.”
Thea rushed over and hooked an arm around him. She turned to see the daunting figure of Veronica staring back. “Sorry,” she said.
“That’s okay, Theodora,” she said, before walking back to the booth of supervisors, including the two senior VPs.
“You kept that a secret,” Thea said, walking with Max to the booth she was sharing.
Another round of applause came as they saw Max.
“Didn’t think you had it in you,” Ollie said, welcoming Max. He stood to give him a bro-hug, the type of hug that’s not a real hug, but a half hug, using half the arm.
Beside the bathrooms, Alexa stood with tears in her eyes as Frank took her hand. “Sweetie,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do.”
“Don’t be a dick,” she said, brushing him off. “All I asked for was a small raise, and you’re telling me what, because I didn’t suck your dick enough, I can’t, or because you’re too much of a pussy, or better yet, you’d rather be in someone else’s.”
“That’s not it,” he said. “We need to cool off.”
“Is this your way of telling me we’re no longer LTF-ing?”
He nodded. “We need to get our fling fix with other people. Otherwise, they won’t be happy.”
“They?” She threw her hands to her side and sniffled. “Like, who? Are you trying to break into the next tier, trying to screw above your means?”
“I’m going away to America, and they have all the VPs there, I can’t show up with an LTF on my account.”
Alexa slapped him. “Well, fuck you too!” She stormed off into the bathroom, her hands up to her face as she cried.
In the management booth, Lara stood, she took her champagne flute and tapped her car keys against the glass. Nobody heard. She grabbed a bar stool and stood on it, clinging her glass again. “Quiet,” she demanded. The music dropped and everyone stared.
“In a month or so, I’ll be named the new CEO of Fling,” she said. “And I want you all to know that I’ll be taking you to the top with me, unlike Deandra, if she’s chosen, which is highly unlikely, Deandra only has one thing on her mind, and that’s her next fix. Do you really need another alcoholic in charge?” she chuckled and butt her lips together. “No, what we really need is for someone who has the interests of the employees.”
Deandra stood, she waved a glass around and fell back into her seat. Juan caught her and balanced her in the seat.
“Here’s a toast,” she said. “For me, being better than Deandra.”
“Cheers,” everyone called back, including the mostly wasted Deandra as she mumbled and raised her glass. Juan pulled the glass away from her before she could push it to her mouth. “No, Señora.”
Lara stood from the chair and approached Deandra as her head fell on Juan’s shoulder. “Top that, bitch.”
About the Author
J. J. HUNT
Born in Lancaster, England during the summer of ‘93.
Stories have played a huge part in HUNT’s life.
Stories to entertain and excite, to breathe life into the mundane.
Currently residing in Madrid, Spain, using his true-to-life experiences to bring romance and erotica alive on the page.
Fling with another HUNT book today.
