GAY SEX STORY
"Personal Assistant"

“This is Mr. Archer, sir ... and ... if it’s okay with you, could I leave now?”

It had been another rough day for her. “Yes, certainly. I’ll look after things.” And she closed the door, leaving us in silence. Stella was indeed overworked, and hiring a personal assistant could solve that. From the six best applications, Erik’s was superior by far – as impressive as he was physically. When we shook hands, his grip was solid, and he looked me straight in the eye and smiled. It was disarming. My crotch gave an involuntary jump.

I was the first to break the grasp. “You’ve got quite a resume,” I said as I walked to the other side of my desk, mainly to hide my growing erection. I motioned for him to sit, and I took off my suit coat. “Make yourself comfortable,” I invited – and when he removed his jacket, the way his torso filled his shirt left no doubt about his physical shape. With his short-cropped black hair and brush moustache, he glowed self-assurance. Our eyes never lost contact – as if we were sizing each other up. I was slightly bigger than Erik, and a few years older.

“Why do you want this job?” I finally asked.

“I like challenges.” He undid the top buttons on his shirt, turned up its cuffs, revealing a hefty and hairy pair of forearms. “Your advertisement seemed tailor-made.”

“With your qualifications, you could get bored.”

With his blue eyes sparkling, he waited a moment before saying, “You don’t look like the kind of guy who’d let that happen ... assuming you’re satisfied with my performance.”

While saying that, he spread his legs and rested the palms of his hands on either side of his crotch, which made it even harder to concentrate on the interview. I was trying to imagine his ass facing me in the shower, the door to which was only six feet away. I was also trying to think of an intelligent question.

“Do you have other commitments? I mean, would working evenings or even on weekends be a problem?”

“Not at all.” He raised one hand from the bulge between his legs and, while almost idly brushing one side of his chest, added, “I’m available whenever you’d like.”

Erik still didn’t break eye contact when he spread his other hand over his cock and said, “Your ad did say ‘personal assistant’ didn’t it?”

“When could you start?” My cock was almost busting the seams of my trousers.

“Right now, if you want.” His fingers reached into the opening of his shirt.

“Could we leave the paper work till morning?” Trickles of sweat ran down my lower spine, into the crack below.

“If that means I’m hired, sure.” And he stood up and moved against the desk between us, his swollen crotch just above the edge. “What would you like me to do first?”

I sat back in my chair, unzipped my fly, undid the buttons on my shirt, and said, “Strip.” “My pleasure,” he said, and he started to move around the desk. “No. Right there.” Erik turned to face me again, slowly undoing his belt. “Hold it,” I said, and I moved from my chair to stand behind him. I ran the back of my fingers from his neck to his waist, feeling the muscles of his back every inch of the way. Then I let the palms of my hands leisurely slide down his ass until they held each cheek. He pushed back a little, and I lifted his shirt out from his pants and ran my hands over his stomach, up to his nipples, flipping the tips of my thumbs over those satin nubs, feeling them becomes harder with each flick. Erik groaned and leaned back against me. I whispered, “Not yet, boy. I haven’t had sex in months, but let’s not rush it.” He leaned forward, placed his hands on the desk, and I sat in the chair he’d been in. “Now, drop them,” I said.

As if to taunt me, he first reached down, took off his shoes and socks and put them carefully to one side. Then, with one hand, he undid his belt and eased his pants over his hips, letting his trousers fall to the floor, slowly lifting each leg to free them, bending down to fold them and put them aside.

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