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BILL

“G ive me one second, everyone,” I say into my camera. Squares with five of my colleagues line my screen. I walk over to the standing desk in the corner of the suite and pray that the movement circulates blood from my groin.

I am hard as fuck thanks to Tate. What the hell was he thinking?

Well, he was thinking he wanted to fuck his boss , I say to myself.

And what did he mean by saying it wouldn’t matter tomorrow?

The standing desk faces out the giant windows, my mind even more of a blizzard than what’s outside. Michigan Avenue is awash in heavy flakes of snow. At least I don’t have to make eye contact with Tate this way.

As I wave to all the executives on the call, I can’t help fantasizing about how badly I want to fuck my assistant. Tate will give his opinion when needed. Usually notes on a Powerpoint presentation or what tie to wear in a meeting. He’s never been this assertive, and absolutely never about…this.

His confidence, his directness, the way he licked his upper lip as if he were literally hungry for me. I want nothing more than to push him onto the bed and bury my dick inside him until sunup. I want to taste his skin and hear him scream my name as he comes.

How does Tate think we can keep working together after this?

“Bill, you there?” asks Randi, our Chief Technology Officer. She’s logged into the call from her home office, the wall behind her decorated with impressive degrees and a family portrait.

“Yeah, sorry. Here.”

“I heard you’re snowed in Chicago,” Edwin our CEO says. His hawk like features underscore how seriously he takes business. Even though it’s late, he’s still as wired to talk as he would be in the morning.

“I…yeah. We’re stuck here overnight.”

“Who are you with?” Edwin asks.

My body tingles with anticipation as I prepare to say his name. “Tate. My assistant.”

Tate, who I want on all fours, that perky ass in the air.

Tate. I want to growl that name in his ear as I make him strip for me.

But I can’t. Tate might be egging me on to cross that line, but I must hold firm. As firm as my cock.

“We’re coming back from MCI.” My voice is hoarse, choked with sudden desire that I can’t quench. Half the people on this call are eager to replace me. I can’t give them the ammunition of breaking the rules and fucking my assistant. Maybe if I were a straight guy and Tate were a woman, they’d call me the man. Being two guys doesn’t afford us the same reaction. I’ll bet the thought of gay sex at all icks out the people on this call.

“I’ll be back in the office tomorrow. We’ll be back in.” I risk looking away from the camera, knowing that the sight of my assistant could rev my engine all over again. Tate is no longer by the bed. I don’t see him in the living room behind me either. Did he leave?

I hate that I had to end things abruptly. I would’ve been gentler about saying no.

Shit. Maybe he’s upset that I turned him down. I didn’t want to. I had to. That’s what the C in C-suite stands for. Cockblocking.

“Make it back safe,” Edwin says. He peers past me. Edwin is a fiend for details. He notices everything. “Are you in a suite?”

“I–it was the only room they had left.”

“Nice,” says Noi, our Chief Investment Officer, in his thick Nigerian accent. Noi has very expensive taste. He’s probably wearing Gucci slippers right now.

“I see.” Edwin raises a curious eyebrow. A knot tightens in my stomach, hoping he doesn’t follow-up. I exhale as he shifts his attention elsewhere. “I know it’s late, but I wanted to hop on a quick call to go over some of the data we got back on Q4. This will give us a good idea of where we came in for the year as well as trends for the current fiscal year. I want us to review them with our teams tomorrow to maximize their impact. It’s almost February. Eight percent of the year is already over.”

Edwin’s a whiz with numbers. His brain is faster than any calculator. It’s great working for someone so bright, but also you better triple-check your numbers whenever you give a presentation to him.

An email with the report pops up in my inbox. I scan through the numbers and overall insights our data analytics team generated. I come up with insights of my own to discuss on the call. Edwin can run his calls like a college lecture, a professor spontaneously calling on students to answer questions.

“Overall, we had a good year, but I’m seeing a lot of areas that could improve efficiency,” Edwin says. “Noi, what stands out to you?”

“Looking at our marketing spend, we’re underinvested in digital. I see a big opportunity to reach younger consumers on social media.” Noi talks a lot with his hands. It can be very distracting. “Our mascot Bree the Insurance Gal has a strong resonance with drivers under thirty-five. The social media chatter says she has quote-unquote ‘rizz,’ which means charisma. We need to create more content with her online to leverage that cool factor. I propose…”

Noi loves to hear himself talk, and seeing how he has Edwin’s rapt attention, he continues on. My gaze drifts from the screen to the windows. In the reflection, Tate stares back at me, his eyes dark and fixed. He stands off to the side, not visible on camera.

For my eyes only.

He loosens his tie and takes it off, lets it fall to the floor. He gives me a dirty, loaded smirk. No good ever came from a smirk like that.

My pants begin to tighten as my thickening cock fights for room in my boxers.

I watch in the reflection as Tate undoes his shirt, one slow button at a time. He smooths his hand across his chest, a chest I’ve long wondered about. It’s even better than my dreams. Creamy skin, ridges of lean muscle, a light dusting of hair around his flat stomach.

I readjust myself. My cock sticks straight out, begging to be let out.

“Bill, what kind of ROI are we seeing with our TV advertising?”

“TV. Right.” I’m careful not to um my way through. It’s a pet peeve of Edwin, something he regularly complains about with younger employees. Like many CEOs, he despises the generation he’s trying to sell his product to. “TV ratings are down, but those viewers are shifting to streaming, where we’re seeing good reach.”

“Why are we spending any money in TV at all?” Edwin wonders.

In the windows, Tate’s hand slips down his stomach to his belt, which he unbuckles, the clanging sound making my balls tingle with lust.

I should be the one undressing him.

“TV is still a powerful tool to reach our customers, especially live sports. We don’t want to throw that away,” I say as heat climbs up my neck.

Just when I think this torture will end, Tate slinks toward me, careful to stay out of frame. He must be an expert of staying out of Zoom calls from the times he’s had to sneak into my office while I was on one.

He stands in between the desk and the window, staring right at me with that smirk. He doesn’t move, and I can tell he’s waiting for me.

The ball is in my court.

“But is it worth the investment?” Edwin asks. “It’s a lot of money we’re spending on TV spots.”

“Maybe we should be working on courting female customers more,” says Randi.

“We can find them on social media,” says Noi.

I want to respond to Tate, to tell him to stay back, but Edwin’s response is more urgent. I can’t leave him waiting. I readjust myself again. Tate glances under the desk.

“We can do both. TV and social media. Maybe we do more targeted TV for next year. Perhaps pick one sporting event and do more branded integrations. And while social media is great, it can be fickle,” I tell the meeting. Good on me for being able to speak eloquently to our advertising needs while managing a massive woody.

Edwin nods. “I see your point. Let’s talk about this more when you’re back. Let’s move onto our cybersecurity concerns, Randi.”

My eyes shift above my computer, but Tate isn’t there. He’s vanished again. Just when I think he’s left for good, a warm hand grazes my crotch.

Tate is under the desk.

On his fucking knees.

His big eyes swirl with heat as they look up at me. My focus shifts from him to the screen and back again. I know what I need to do…but can I do it?

Fuck. Need burns too strong in my veins. I give him the slightest head nod, then I whip my head back to the Zoom call.

Randi and Edwin exchange barbs about who was to blame for a hacking threat we encountered last summer while Tate unzips my fly. My cock pulses against my boxers. Tate reaches in and strokes me over my underwear. It takes all of my willpower not to moan. From the chest up, I am Bill Crandell, Chief Marketing Officer. And from the chest down, I am the horniest man on earth.

Randi tries to cover her ass by pinning it on the third party IT security company we contracted with at the time. Meanwhile, Tate unbuttons my pants. He pushes them and my boxers to my ankles. My cock feels amazing, out and free from the fabric restraints.

Tate’s eyes light up at the sight of it. I want to stare down at him, but I can only take quick peeks. He gives it a soft stroke from the base to the tip, as if surveying how the hell he’s going to fit it in his mouth.

You wanted it this bad. You’re going to take every inch, buddy.

His tongue circles my bulbous cockhead, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to stay upright during this. Tate’s pouty lips stretch as he fits my cock inside his mouth. The warmth of his tongue makes my balls draw up, but we gotta pace ourselves no matter how ready I am to come.

He wastes no time, immediately sinking my cock down this throat. He gets almost the entire thing in his mouth. I love the way he looks with a face full of me.

“Let’s move on. The big question for this year is expansion. We’ve been able to be competitive against the big national auto insurance brands, but our market share is still in the single digits,” Edwin says. “How can we grow sustainably? I still believe slow and steady wins the race.”

The same could be said for Tate’s dick sucking ability. His slow, steady sucks are on another level. They drag out the ecstasy of his wet mouth. He’s a man who knows how to paint the tree. He seems to be getting as much enjoyment out of this as me, savoring my thick shaft, licking the pre-come off my pulsating tip.

“The business graveyard is littered with companies that expanded too soon without a plan.” Edwin teepees his hands. “Do you agree, Bill?”

“Yes,” I breathe out. Shit. Chest up CMO Bill needs to hold it together. “I mean, yes. I agree. We only get one chance to make a first impression.”

“Exactly,” he says.

Despite being very intelligent, the man eats up cliches like…well, like the way Tate is eating up my cock.

I catch our reflection in the window. Me standing confidently at my desk. Tate on his knees like a good boy giving my cock the attention it deserves. I feel on top of the world, a master of the universe, emboldened.

Keeping my upper body still, I slide a hand under the desk and push Tate’s head into my crotch, making him take all of me. With my other hand, I mute my speaker just in time for Tate to gag on my cock.

“Fuck yes,” Tate says.

I watch my camera, making sure I remain still as I push Tate down again, hitting the soft skin at the back of his throat. He erupts in another gag. Saliva drools around my dick.

I want to tell him what a good boy he’s being, but I can’t say a word, so I pat his head.

“We need to ramp up hiring if we want to expand. We’ll need to allocate some marketing resources for that, too,” Noi says. “Unless you think we could increase our budget, Edwin.”

Edwin nods. “We can discuss that in more depth at another date. It might make sense.”

“That’s amazing,” I say as Tate’s tongue drags down to my balls, aching for a release.

“Don’t get too excited just yet, Bill. We need to see what the budget would look like,” Noi tells me.

If the budget is anywhere near as good as Tate’s mouth, I’ll be a very excited camper.

Tate strokes my cock as he licks my balls, flooding me with pleasure. I rock the lower half of my body to get closer to him. His tongue is working more magic than Houdini. As Edwin questions Kelly, our Chief Sales Officer, I admire my fat cock in Tate’s pert, precious mouth. Tate winks at me. This guy is too much.

I always knew Tate was incredible, but this incredible? I am floored.

I grab the hotel notepad and pen and scribble a missive to my assistant. He’s used to getting notes from me while I’m on calls, usually in the form of Slack messages.

Tell me how much you love sucking my cock , I write while keeping my rapt focus on the call. To my colleagues, I am diligently taking notes. I rip off the piece of paper and slip it to Tate, who’s gone back to sucking on my cock.

I put my speaker on mute.

“I love sucking your fat cock. You’re bigger than I thought. You taste so good,” Tate yells, gasping for air as he takes my dick again.

Play with my balls , I scribble on another note and pass it down.

Tate’s tongue swirls around each nut, sucking on one then the other, nuzzling his nose against them. He rubs his cheek against my hairy thighs like a cat marking its territory. He slaps my cock on his tongue.

Whose cock are you sucking? I scribble and pass down. I hit mute.

“I’m sucking my boss’s amazing cock. Fuck!”

I sure hope these hotel walls are soundproofed.

I pat his head, this time grabbing a fistful of hair. I thrust my crotch so he deep throats me again. My desk shakes.

“You okay?” Edwin asks.

“Yeah, my leg hit the desk.”

“You don’t seem tired, but you’re probably tired with all that traveling. We’ll continue this conversation tomorrow. I’m excited about where things are going,” Edwin says.

Me, too. Because we’re not stopping with an epic blow job, no matter how badly I want to come. If Tate wants to get fucked by the boss, then he’s going to get fucked by the boss.

“Night all.” Edwin ends the call.

The screen goes black. I slam my laptop shut and step back from the desk. My cock hangs heavy between my legs.

Tate looks up at me with those spit-shined lips and big eyes, like a pet who knows it’s done wrong but is too lovable to be mad at.

I pull him up by the shirt into a hot, hungry kiss, our lips smashing together.

“Get on the bed,” I growl into his ear. I drag my teeth down his neck. “My turn.”