“Noted,” he nods. “I haven’t worked on my own project yet so I’m just a little worried and unsure of everything, so if I seem a little anxious you’ll have to forgive me.”
His honesty causes me to pause, his expression one of near panic.
“You have nothing to worry about, you focus on the paperwork and I’ll do the rest. I’ll keep you up to date on everything and try to keep the budget down. Everyone wants the high school to be improved, everyone’s gonna make sure that happens, so you’re not on this project alone,” I assure him.
He inhales deeply and nods, “Okay, well, I definitely feel better that I know you, and that you don’t have any hard feelings against me for how I treated your sister.”
“Water under the bridge,” I tell him.
I reach into my pocket and grab my wallet, opening it to produce my business card.
“You can call me anytime, my cell number’s on there. Even if you’re just feeling overwhelmed, I deal with this shit all the time, so it’s not a bother.”
He takes the card, his index finger brushing against mine. My poor cock.
“Thank you, Nolan, I really appreciate it.”
Again, he doesn’t reach out to shake my hand and I tell myself it’s because he doesn’t want to ignite the fire between us.
My exit from the meeting is rushed as Rupert walks me to the door, I want to kiss him, I want to suck his dick. But instead of that, I give him a nod and tell him again that he can call me anytime.
I speed home, barely getting inside the back door before my fingers yank my fly open to start pumping my cock. The back of my head hits the door frame as I press my back against it, my eyes closing as I stroke my painfully hard dick fast and tight. Recalling his smell, his eyes on me, imagining his strong hands doing this.
“Oh fuck,” I bite out through clenched teeth, as my cum spurts out and onto the floor. “Fuck” I repeat, as I swallow thickly and sigh, knowing this is probably going to become a steady part of my life now that I’m working with Rupert.
Ch 4
RUPERT
No question, I am in a dick-daze. Standing in the doorway of my office, I’m watching one of the finest, tightest asses known to mankind, stride towards the elevator. It took every bit of will power I had not to move behind Nolan and press my aching cock against him when he reached for those fucking blueprints. My pulse is racing, pushing way too much blood into my dick, which sure as shit is not helping me clear my head. Meanwhile the head currently in control of my brain wants to follow him. It wants to step onto the elevator, right at the last second, and forcefully shove him against the back wall, before savagely taking his mouth. Make those full lips - those perfect for sucking cock lips - mine, before he can even get a word out.
He’s just so confident and controlled that it both frustrates me and makes me want to push his boundaries. To see if I could crack that cool Nordic God veneer of his, and fuck his shit right up. Annoyingly, he’s always been able to do this to me, to have this effect on me. Thank fuck I’m no longer a spineless man-child, jacking himself in the locker room showers or dumbstruck in a bar parking lot. Fuck, I still think about that night when he’d grabbed my cock. My hard as fuck cock, no less. I have no doubt he’d felt it pulse at least once under his tight grip, but thankfully approaching voices had made him let go, or he would have realized I’d actually just jizzed on myself. Of course in my fantasies, that night ended in a much different way. So, this time, if he wants to try pulling me around by the dick, he’d better be prepared for me to pull back. Two can play at that game.
“Good meeting?” William Patrick asks, a single eyebrow raised as he gives me the once-over on his way past my door. This fucker is slicker than owl shit. I didn’t even hear him approach, which surprises me given his penchant for mouth breathing and habitually clearing his throat.
Chalk another one up to the power of the Nolan Frederickson Effect.
“It was, yes. Everything is on track. Plantain Construction will start the project as scheduled.” My reply is crisp, but professionally polite.
There is just something about this guy that I don’t trust. Old enough to be my father, he’s been in his position on the council longer than I’ve been alive. Traditional and set in his ways, he is one of the few men I work with here that are of the opinion Plantain is perfect as it is, and that change is the harbinger of death.
“You’re aware that the square footage was adjusted by the planning committee? I’d hate for you to be working from the wrong plans.” He smiles at me in a way that shows none of his teeth, merely presses his thin lips together. It makes his for once closed mouth, a straight slash across his ruddy face.
“I am Bill,’ I smile back at him using all of my pearly whites, knowing full well he hates any one calling him Bill. “In fact, I was in that committee meeting and voted for the change to be made. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have contracts to finalize”.
With that, I nod my head and turn to close my office door, seeing that William is barely concealing his contempt at my dismissal of him. Fuck you Bill, I’m not timid and browbeaten like Sheila. I won’t take your shit.
As I fold my body to sit behind my desk, I’m awarded a sharp and painful reminder about my first meeting of the day, more specifically who it was with. The slim-fit tailoring of these trousers may be fashionable but they’re fucking torture on a hard dick. My cheeks flush with the quick heat of embarrassment when it occurs to me that William may have noticed my predicament. Oh well, while it’s not ideal, there’s not a whole lot I can do about now.
Using the heel of my hand, I make several attempts to wrangle my dick into a more comfortable position. I can still smell the crisp freshness of Nolan’s cologne in my office. Breathing it in, I wonder how that scent would change and deepen as his body heated with exertion and activity. Fuck. I imagine running my nose along the column of his throat, down his chest and pressing my face into the V-lines of his torso. I bet he smells fucking amazing there. Clean, musky, and all fucking man.
Licking my lips, I glance at my closed door. I know I’m about to take a huge risk, but this thing needs to be dealt with or I’m going to have balls bluer than a smurf. Adjusting the swiveled position of my chair so I face away from the door, I carefully unzip, freeing my strangled cock from the confines of my clothing. Jesus Christ. Breathing deeply through my nose, my relief is short lived. I grip my swollen flesh, keeping my fist tight and still, not daring to move. I work quickly to push my shirt up my torso, out of the way, and throw my tie over my right shoulder. I can feel my dick pulse against my palm, demanding movement, friction, anything to help with the raging need for release. There is so much pre-cum on the head it’s shiny and I know this is going to be hard and fast. Using my two thickest fingers at the top of my fist, I hiss as I twist them over the glossy slickness, around and around, making sure to bump hard against the thick rim and tease over the sensitive underside of my flushed head.
Thoughts and images of Nolan, old and new, roll through my mind. I shift a little so I can see the conference table behind me. Letting the fantasy I squashed earlier play out, I imagine him bent over the table, his chest pressed against the blueprints. His dark denim jeans are around his ankles, held in place by those Timberland boots, his feet set as wide apart as his pants would allow. I see myself dropping to my knees, my hand reaching around to work his cock, while my tongue prepares him to take my shaft in a hard, slow thrust.
Turns out I was right. With those filthy thoughts in my head, I come strong and fast. It is also not lost on me that I had yet again resorted to jacking off after an interaction with Nolan Frederickson. Next time, he is going to fucking well do it for me. Using his mouth.
***
“Hey Dad. Sorry I missed your call earlier. What’s up?”
I’m holding my phone to my ear using just the pressure from my left shoulder, as I need both hands to lock the door to the original section of the old Municipal Building.
“Nothing
at all. I was just checking in to see how things are with you?” The line is crackling with static, making it hard to hear him and I find myself squinting in concentration, as if that’s going to make it better.
“All good here, but the line is really bad, Dad, I can barely hear you.”
“Sorry Rupert, the international connections are a bit hit and miss from this cafe. I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to let you know that your Mom has decided she’s nowhere near finished shopping, so we’re going to stay here in Lyon for another week. We’ll now catch the train to Amsterdam for the European river cruise from here.”
In my mother’s mind, there was no real reason to stay in Plantain once I’d moved out of state for college. My parents had long since given in to the travel bug that called them for years. They’re probably only here now for a few months a year, to regroup and plan where they want to go next. What this means for me is that I pretty much have the house I grew up in to myself, so since accepting the job and moving back, the need to find a place of my own hadn’t been a priority.
“Women and shopping, sounds about right.” I laugh, knowing my mother would walk in and out of every store she came across, for hours on end, and still be content not buying a single thing. She tells me she just soaks up the experience. My dad on the other hand, gets fed up after a few stores, and finds the closest café or bench to sit on, chatting to anyone who smiles at him.
I’ve finally succeeded in getting the door locked, and put my phone back in my hand when I see William through the large window to my left. He’s coming out of the document storage room that is located behind the reception desk. It strikes me as odd, William Patrick is a strict nine-to-fiver, and so he’s never usually here at this time of night.
“Careful son, the same could very easily be said about gay men,” my Dad says, laughter evident in his voice, and I tune back into our conversation.
“Good one old man,” I say with a laugh, while walking across the parking lot to my Jeep. “Listen, I’m going to let you go. Thanks for the update and don’t worry about anything here. Touch base again when you’re in Amsterdam, ok?” We say our goodbyes and he disconnects the call.
My dad’s lame, ‘the gays like to shop’ joke, reminds me that I couldn’t have had an easier ‘coming out’. Sure, my parents were a little surprised as I’d dated Irys for three years, but after a few lengthy and at times brutally honest discussions, they decided that as long as I was happy, they were happy for me.
In hindsight, all the fear, anxiety and bullshit I had put myself through, turned out to be more about my own issues with being gay, not anyone else’s.
Ch 5
NOLAN
Walking toward the gym in Bannister, I note the parking lot isn’t packed, and thank fuck, because I need to work out this tension. Sexual tension. I’ve been thinking about Rupert all day. Unable to derail my thoughts, I decided that after my last meeting I’d head to the gym for a lift session. I called Wyatt to see if he wanted to join me, but his private practice is open late on Wednesday, so he can’t. I debated on calling Evan but know he looks forward to after work and spending time with his family, so, I’m flying solo. I pound the rest of my pre-work out drink from my shaker cup as I walk in, putting it in my work out bag before closing my locker.
Pushing the earbud jack into my phone, I shove them into my ears and pull up my work out playlist on Spotify. “Master of Puppets” by Metallica comes on and I increase the volume, making my way over toward the nearly empty weight area. I don’t make eye contact with the two guys who seem to know each other as they take up space by the weight rack talking.
Grabbing two seventy-five-pound barbells, I face the mirror as I begin my circuit of reps. Looking at myself in the mirror; the hood of my grey, sleeveless under armor shirt pulled over my baseball hat covered head, my muscles bulging as I curl the weights up to my chest. The music blasting in my ears helps me concentrate on my breathing as blood begins to pump through bulging veins. I notice someone running on the treadmill near the windows, but don’t look at the bouncing figure until I’m done with my second set.
All the motivation and attention to my body functioning is thrown out the window, when I see Rupert’s the runner. He’s also got his earbuds in, also in a sleeveless shirt and shiny, black Adidas pants. Sweat coats his arms, his face, his hair damp as he runs with a precision I’ve only seen possess my mom.
We lock eyes through the mirror, before I look back at myself and my expression takes me back. My brow’s furrowed as I look below my hood, my jaw clenched. I look angry, do I feel angry? No, I feel… frustrated, pent-up, bound, restrained. I start my next set, trying hard as fuck to get back in the zone. But I feel his eyes on me, or maybe it’s just knowing he’s there, exerting himself, breathing hard… fuck!
Tossing my weights onto the floor, I’m glad the two other dudes have left since what I just did was a bit overdramatic and well, loud. I move over to do pull-ups, away from the mirror and in the corner where I can’t see him. Again, I feel him though and a new motivation comes over me, like I’m now trying to show off if he is watching me. I push myself, my mind and my body to just connect and get on the same page, but it’s fucking useless. After an hour, I give up and without a glance in the direction of the treadmills, I walk toward the showers. Going to my locker, I grab my bag and drop it onto the bench beneath it, pulling out my towel and soap. I like showering at the gym, the combination of the shitty showerheads and the harsh water pressure helps relax my muscles better than my shower at home.
Stripping my clothes off and shoving my phone back into my bag, I wrap the towel around my waist and head to the showers, passing by other men as they exit. The area is steamy and loud with other showers running, and I hang my towel on a hook, just before occupying the shower in the corner. Pushing the nozzles and cranking it to the hot setting, instantly the water hits my neck and I turn my back, lowering my head so the water is directed on my shoulders and upper back. I let the water heat up and stream down me, noting there’s a guy across from me and another two showers away. Wiping my eyes, I raise my head and see Rupert in the opposite corner across from me. Well, I don’t see him, like make eye contact, but I know it’s him.
I turn and face the shower again, feeling my cock noting he’s there. Fuck. No, focus on the water, your aching muscles. Closing my eyes once more, I try to think of every individual drop of water hitting my skin. But no, instead, I picture myself lying on a bench press, lifting weights and look up to see Rupert above me as he spots for me. He’s sweating like he was on the treadmill and I want to know if his dick’s as sweaty as he is.
“Why don’t you find out,” he tells me, and the weight’s gone now.
My eyes shift up to see him pulling the front of his track pants down, his pubes curly with dampness, his cock thick and balls hanging in a picture-perfect package of the male anatomy.
“Do you wanna touch it, Nolan? I want you to touch it, so bad… open your mouth and have a taste,” Rupert says.
I feel my cock swell and I lick my lips, reaching my hands above me to run my fingers along his growing dick. He steps closer and I can smell him, smell his sweat and warmth.
“Hey, Nolan.”
My eyes snap open and I look over to see the guy a few showers down that’s now leaving, a guy I work with.
“Hey, Brad,” I push out.
Both my forearms are braced on the shower wall in front of me, my dick’s hard and erect, knowing there’s no way Brad didn’t notice. Fuck. The shower behind me is off now too, and I glance around to see it’s just me and Rupert. He’s soapy, rubbing his body with the suds as his head’s tilted back under the stream of water. It’s then my eyes scan down his body, his tight muscular body. Broad shoulders and trim waist, chest hair dusting his skin and narrowing down the center of his abs before thickening above the base of his dick. Seeing his dick, the water streaming down it, the water almost mimicking cum as it flows off the tip.
My cock jumps a
nd begins to pulsate with my heartbeat. Turning my back to the water, I’m out of my mind, knowing my hands are moving to my crotch, but unable to stop it. Exhaling sharply, one snakes around my base and the other begins to stroke fast and tight on the head. My veins there feel rigid and thick, unlike they rarely feel and I know it’s because this dude gets me hot AF.
I barely realize he’s even looking at me his eyes are so hooded, but his hands move to his dick too, like he’s washing himself. But the way his hands move and the deliberate lingering, the way he’s growing hard and widening his stance, I know it’s purposeful.
Without realizing it, I’m jerking myself off in earnest and the water feels suffocating as I breathe hard and fast, my heart racing. When his eyes open fully, when he looks at me, at what I’m doing, the reaction swells in my balls. My attention hones in on his face, mouth parted with eyes on my cock. Because this man makes me forget my surroundings, forget all sense of self, I trail a hand back behind me and run my fingers down the crease of my cheeks, widening my stance as I rim my asshole with my index finger, before sliding it inside and pressing on the spot that makes my orgasm smack me in the face. We both groan and it echoes in the shower as my eyes close and I turn my back to him, putting both my hands on my dick to finish the job of coming. I feel dizzy and afloat, needing my hand on the shower wall for balance. I swallow thickly and watch my cum slide down the drain at my feet.
“Nolan, good work out?” someone says to my left, and I look over to see Tommy Doyle, a guy I’ve known since high school.
I nod, noticing over his shoulder that Rupert’s gone.
****
I can’t do this. There’s no way I can work on the high school build and remain professional. I jerked off in the shower, in a public shower. Do you know how fucked I’d be if someone had walked in at that moment and saw us, saw me? I could’ve ruined my reputation. I had to talk to Evan, because as much as I wanted to work on this project, I knew I couldn’t. Not only was my career reputation on the line, but so was Plantain Construction, and I knew my desire for Rupert could potentially ruin everything for both of us. I have to step up and do what was best for the company, and my dick.
Almost Easy Page 3
