This is my first time to author a short story. All coments welcome:biggrin1:
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“Thank you. Have a nice evening and come back.” That’s the way Greg greeted everyone he rung up at the DollarMerica (it sounded fake enough) dollar store where he worked. He was every bit of 7 feet 2 inches of pure lean 23 year-old male. He didn’t look exactly like The Incredible Hulk, but with his obscenely muscular 6-pack abs that showed through his tight work T-shirt, piercing hazel eyes, a mega-watt smile behind a well-kept goatee that just would not quit for anything, and a naturally humble and quiet personality, it’s no wonder why every female in the mall would come into DollarMerica just to watch Greg work.
But, even though every woman in her right mind wanted him, the feeling unfortunately was never mutual on his part. Greg is the classic case of the guy with female friends, but not any of those friendships ever really materialized into a relationship. Yup, gay. But no one knows because he doesn’t live the flashy, in-your-face, lifestyle. Greg is a quiet, simple, gentle giant.
Enter Greg’s supervisor for tonight's shift, Andy. Two years younger than Greg, at age 21, Andy has been with DollarMerica since he was 16. It was his first job, and since joining, has become an Assistant Manager/Hourly Supervisor. Short (5 foot 8), stocky, muscular, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a full yet very short length beard, what Andy lacked in sheer height, he made up for in pure hard-body sex appeal.
Andy and Greg are the best of friends who met through working together at DollarMerica. But what Andy doesn’t know is that Greg has long carried a torch for Andy, ever since they first met and became friends. Greg, however kept this secret CLOSELY guarded. He didn’t want to out himself as being gay, and all the complications therein. Also, Greg never forgot Cardinal Rule of Relationships #136: Once a friendship becomes a romantic interest, you can never go home again. And Cardinal Rule # 137: Romance + at work + with boss/supervisor = disaster waiting to happen. Greg never wanted to jeopardize his friendship with Andy, a friendship he cherished. Or their at-work relationship. Or the steady job Greg has had with the store for 2 years now.
But, at the same time, the erections while driving home from work whenever he worked with Andy were undeniable. Greg’s penis ached as he often wondered what he’d do with Andy, given half a chance. Scenarios often played out in Greg’s imagination. And what an imagination Greg had.
His usual daydreams went something like this: One night at closing time, after counting the cash register tills, Andy would lower the gate and put the CLOSED sign up for the night. Greg would then sneak up behind Andy, bend down, and kiss him on the back of the neck, right behind his left ear. Andy would turn around and slam Greg up against the gate. Greg liked it that way - - a little rough, but not overly so. They didn’t care that anyone could see through to what they were doing. Even though it was closing time, around 9pm, the mall had been long dead before then, in terms of customer foot-traffic, as was usually the case on a weeknight. Andy’d jump up and slap a big, wet passionate kiss on Greg. Greg felt Andy’s crotch stiffen against his own abs as their tongues fought a war of passion. Greg carried Andy though the store and eventually back to the stockroom. Andy’s manhood strained though his jeans against his friend’s belt buckle, while Greg’s wood cried out for freedom beneath his own khakis.
They made it back to the stockroom. Finally, alone. I love you, dude’s were exchanged as they broke away from one another to clear a space on the floor where they could fulfill their mutual needs. They worked to close themselves in with boxes, not expecting that someone come in and surprise them, but if someone did, they would at least have some measure of protection. Greg pulled off his own shirt first, and then carefully unbuttoned Andy’s. Andy then prepared himself for what he already knew would be huge. Andy unbuttoned and unzipped his own pants. Out sprang his own sausage covered beneath basic white boxer briefs. Greg undid his own Dockers and under the cotton neon orange and blue boxers with a leg so long, they could pass for regular street shorts. What was beyond Greg’s boxer shorts was a sight unlike anything Andy has ever seen in his 21 years of walking this earth. Even high school athletics hadn’t prepared Andy for this: A 11-and-a-half inch monster clearly seen lurking beneath Greg’s shorts that put Andy’s own 8-incher to shame. And where Andy came from, he was the biggest-hung guy in school. He was the one who always used to get called “Donkeyboy” and “3-Legged Tripod”. And now, “Elephant Crotch” met someone who looked twice a big as he. A penis so big, it had its own ZIP Code. And it nearly scared him.
Greg (knowing what to do, when to do it, and being a perfect gentleman, anyway) put a hand on Andy’s shoulder, looked him square in the eye, and reassured him, “It’s OK. You don’t have to do anything you do not want to do. Anything.” That’s just Greg’s way: above all else, respectful.
Andy replied with a new easiness and feeling of security embraced in Greg’s arms, “I want to do this.”
“I love you, bro.”
“I love you too, man.”
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“Thank you. Have a nice evening and come back.” That’s the way Greg greeted everyone he rung up at the DollarMerica (it sounded fake enough) dollar store where he worked. He was every bit of 7 feet 2 inches of pure lean 23 year-old male. He didn’t look exactly like The Incredible Hulk, but with his obscenely muscular 6-pack abs that showed through his tight work T-shirt, piercing hazel eyes, a mega-watt smile behind a well-kept goatee that just would not quit for anything, and a naturally humble and quiet personality, it’s no wonder why every female in the mall would come into DollarMerica just to watch Greg work.
But, even though every woman in her right mind wanted him, the feeling unfortunately was never mutual on his part. Greg is the classic case of the guy with female friends, but not any of those friendships ever really materialized into a relationship. Yup, gay. But no one knows because he doesn’t live the flashy, in-your-face, lifestyle. Greg is a quiet, simple, gentle giant.
Enter Greg’s supervisor for tonight's shift, Andy. Two years younger than Greg, at age 21, Andy has been with DollarMerica since he was 16. It was his first job, and since joining, has become an Assistant Manager/Hourly Supervisor. Short (5 foot 8), stocky, muscular, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a full yet very short length beard, what Andy lacked in sheer height, he made up for in pure hard-body sex appeal.
Andy and Greg are the best of friends who met through working together at DollarMerica. But what Andy doesn’t know is that Greg has long carried a torch for Andy, ever since they first met and became friends. Greg, however kept this secret CLOSELY guarded. He didn’t want to out himself as being gay, and all the complications therein. Also, Greg never forgot Cardinal Rule of Relationships #136: Once a friendship becomes a romantic interest, you can never go home again. And Cardinal Rule # 137: Romance + at work + with boss/supervisor = disaster waiting to happen. Greg never wanted to jeopardize his friendship with Andy, a friendship he cherished. Or their at-work relationship. Or the steady job Greg has had with the store for 2 years now.
But, at the same time, the erections while driving home from work whenever he worked with Andy were undeniable. Greg’s penis ached as he often wondered what he’d do with Andy, given half a chance. Scenarios often played out in Greg’s imagination. And what an imagination Greg had.
His usual daydreams went something like this: One night at closing time, after counting the cash register tills, Andy would lower the gate and put the CLOSED sign up for the night. Greg would then sneak up behind Andy, bend down, and kiss him on the back of the neck, right behind his left ear. Andy would turn around and slam Greg up against the gate. Greg liked it that way - - a little rough, but not overly so. They didn’t care that anyone could see through to what they were doing. Even though it was closing time, around 9pm, the mall had been long dead before then, in terms of customer foot-traffic, as was usually the case on a weeknight. Andy’d jump up and slap a big, wet passionate kiss on Greg. Greg felt Andy’s crotch stiffen against his own abs as their tongues fought a war of passion. Greg carried Andy though the store and eventually back to the stockroom. Andy’s manhood strained though his jeans against his friend’s belt buckle, while Greg’s wood cried out for freedom beneath his own khakis.
They made it back to the stockroom. Finally, alone. I love you, dude’s were exchanged as they broke away from one another to clear a space on the floor where they could fulfill their mutual needs. They worked to close themselves in with boxes, not expecting that someone come in and surprise them, but if someone did, they would at least have some measure of protection. Greg pulled off his own shirt first, and then carefully unbuttoned Andy’s. Andy then prepared himself for what he already knew would be huge. Andy unbuttoned and unzipped his own pants. Out sprang his own sausage covered beneath basic white boxer briefs. Greg undid his own Dockers and under the cotton neon orange and blue boxers with a leg so long, they could pass for regular street shorts. What was beyond Greg’s boxer shorts was a sight unlike anything Andy has ever seen in his 21 years of walking this earth. Even high school athletics hadn’t prepared Andy for this: A 11-and-a-half inch monster clearly seen lurking beneath Greg’s shorts that put Andy’s own 8-incher to shame. And where Andy came from, he was the biggest-hung guy in school. He was the one who always used to get called “Donkeyboy” and “3-Legged Tripod”. And now, “Elephant Crotch” met someone who looked twice a big as he. A penis so big, it had its own ZIP Code. And it nearly scared him.
Greg (knowing what to do, when to do it, and being a perfect gentleman, anyway) put a hand on Andy’s shoulder, looked him square in the eye, and reassured him, “It’s OK. You don’t have to do anything you do not want to do. Anything.” That’s just Greg’s way: above all else, respectful.
Andy replied with a new easiness and feeling of security embraced in Greg’s arms, “I want to do this.”
“I love you, bro.”
“I love you too, man.”
