[A story written in Denmark, in August 1999. Translated and re-enjoyed ]
Trevor
I silently sighed and looked out the window - Edinburgh was magnificent. I'd been in this oil business review meeting all day and hadn't even noticed the view. At 300 euros/ hour, I guess they were entitled to the undivided attention of their consulting off-shore drilling engineer, but the view was striking from this high up. I could see a green park bordered by a river - the view was so refreshing !
I heard Trevor ask, "Lorris, are you with us?" I smiled and turned away from the window, looking at him, the only other view worth seeing. It was a pleasure just to watch him, whether he was sitting, standing or moving about the room. His blond hair, dark blue eyes and square face gave him a ruggedly handsome look; his hard, muscular body gave him an athletic grace; and his smile gave him a warmth and glow, like the one you feel sitting before a log fireplace.
"So, what about Roger's comment that merging the two companies will cause compatibility problems, especially in what concerns the West Dogger Bank geological survey ?"
Trevor looked at me with his quiet confidence, probably already knowing the answer. He was clearly comfortable with himself and others. As the leader of the meeting, his suggestions and comments were always softened with humor or a complement. Even though his fashionable attire set him apart from all the rest of us, with our jeans and bargain basement clothes, Trevor wasn't arrogant.
"Well," I softly answered "I don't see any problems regarding mutual compatibility, but I have to remember you that our company, Britannia Occidental, could use this merger for future expansion. If I correctly recall, we're sitting on a cash-mountain."
I heard the words, his words, but my mind was elsewhere, a little lower. Not only did Trevor's good looks, build and attire set him apart, but so did the bulge in his pants. Oh, geez, he was carrying something nice, very nice between his legs. I had to constantly break my stare and look away, least my feelings about him became obvious. We accidentally brushed up against each other earlier in the day, contact that stirred deep, warm feelings in me. It was the only excitement in an otherwise monotonous day, a day that had gone on too long. I know, I shouldn't complain. The work is interesting and the pay is great.
But, I wasn't happy and I wanted this meeting to end. I had to fly home tomorrow (Lausanne, sweet Lausanne - yes, I'm a Swiss working in Great Britain), and I had hoped to finish the meeting around noon, have lunch with them, then enjoy a free afternoon. I wanted to visit this superb city and finish with a massage, one of those glorious, full-body massages, where everything, mh, gets rubbed. The longer I looked at Trevor, the more I wanted that massage. (Down there.)
A friend, Brad, had given me the number for Paul, an exclusive masseur in the city. Brad said Paul had magical hands and gave full-body massages bordering on the spiritual. As the clock ticked away into the afternoon and I grew more anxious, I wanted all the spiritual help I could get.
I sighed. "Let's take a break," I suggested. Everyone agreed. I wanted to call Paul, the spiritual masseur, but his number was back at the hotel. So I headed for the restroom to flush some of the gallons of coffee I had been drinking.
The Restroom
The restroom was empty when I entered it. When I had finished and was washing my hands, Trevor came in and parked himself in front of a urinal, diagonal from the sink.
"Fast progress, today. Right, Lorris?" He unzipped his fly, reached in his pants and hauled it out, letting it hang freely as he pissed. Oh God! From what I could see, it was a fucking engineering marvel - long, thick, and sculptured, with a glorious crown.
"Yes," I answered. "As if it always goes faster than planned. Not everyone understands at the same speed."
I quietly breathed deeply. That cock's size was a definite turn-on for me. I could give up my day job if I had the right dick to suck. As I watched, I felt a ting of arousal in my pants. This meeting had definitely gone on too long.
As I practically gawked at him, I couldn't help but fantasise about Trevor and his magical tool. . . . .When he finished, he shook it a few times. It rippled almost like a long rope, but he didn't put it back in his pants. Instead, he just let it hang.
"You're doing a good job of bring everyone along," he said as he leaned against the wall.
"Thanks," I responded, sighing again. "But sometimes it's hard to keep your mind from wandering," I added, as I stared at his massive meat hanging out of his pants.
"Certainly is," he smiled. "It would be nice to relieve the monotony." He looked down at his meat, stroked it a few times and looked up at me with that come-hither-smile.
We practically fell into a stall. We were all over each other, kissing, feeling, groping, tearing our clothes off.
"We've got to make this quick," he hurriedly exclaimed. "Are you a top or a bottom?"
"I prefer top," I responded, as I tried to imagine how the hell his ramming machine could ever fit in me. Our shirts were unbuttoned and our pants were down, and pointing directly at me was his huge, fucking dick, at least 10 inches, thick, very thick, with a pare of the most gorgeous balls hanging below.
"Great," he said with anticipation and a tinge of relief. "I like the bottom." The bottom. I heard the words, but couldn't believe it. With his equipment, he liked the bottom? Is there such a thing as too big . . . I think not!
He reached down and wiped the precum off his wet crown and rubbed it on my swollen tip. Oh, God, I could feel the tingle down into my balls. This was going to be quick and wet, very wet. Turning around, he bent over exposing his heavenly ass and luscious hole. Just below his tan line were his checks tight and just the right bubble size. Light blond hairs graced the edges of his hole, which had puckered into a pinkish nipple. I slurped on my fingers and rubbed his ass-hole, pushing my finger in. He moaned and pushed back. No sense waiting I thought, as I dripped saliva on my hard ass-plunger and hoisted it into position. Pushing my crown against his hole, he pushed back and my rigid 8.6 inches plunged in. God, was he good, so ripe and tight. I descended to the base of my shaft, rubbing my pubic hairs against his checks. He moaned and reached back, grabbing my ass with both of his strong, muscular hands, pulling me tight against him and wiggling his butt and tightening his anus around my cock.
Holding his checks with both hands, I fucked his ass with long, deep thrusts, beating my cock back and forth, up and down his tight tube, slapping my balls against him. God, it was fucking wonderful. He reached under and gently fondled my balls, as they pulled tighter against me. I was building to a ravishing climax, my jism surging from my balls in a fiery blast, ready to erupt in massive explosions in his . . . .
"Excuse me... would you mind passing me some towels," Trevor asked again, as I was jolted back to reality.
"Oh, sorry. I was daydreaming," I responded as I passed him some paper towels and he wiped his hands.
"Hope she was good looking," he said, smiling and turning to leave.
"Yeah, very good looking," I replied, looking down at my tented pants, thankful I was standing close to the counter. As I followed his tight ass down the hallway, I thought to myself, this just wasn't my day - I couldn't even finish a fucking fantasy.
Trevor
I silently sighed and looked out the window - Edinburgh was magnificent. I'd been in this oil business review meeting all day and hadn't even noticed the view. At 300 euros/ hour, I guess they were entitled to the undivided attention of their consulting off-shore drilling engineer, but the view was striking from this high up. I could see a green park bordered by a river - the view was so refreshing !
I heard Trevor ask, "Lorris, are you with us?" I smiled and turned away from the window, looking at him, the only other view worth seeing. It was a pleasure just to watch him, whether he was sitting, standing or moving about the room. His blond hair, dark blue eyes and square face gave him a ruggedly handsome look; his hard, muscular body gave him an athletic grace; and his smile gave him a warmth and glow, like the one you feel sitting before a log fireplace.
"So, what about Roger's comment that merging the two companies will cause compatibility problems, especially in what concerns the West Dogger Bank geological survey ?"
Trevor looked at me with his quiet confidence, probably already knowing the answer. He was clearly comfortable with himself and others. As the leader of the meeting, his suggestions and comments were always softened with humor or a complement. Even though his fashionable attire set him apart from all the rest of us, with our jeans and bargain basement clothes, Trevor wasn't arrogant.
"Well," I softly answered "I don't see any problems regarding mutual compatibility, but I have to remember you that our company, Britannia Occidental, could use this merger for future expansion. If I correctly recall, we're sitting on a cash-mountain."
I heard the words, his words, but my mind was elsewhere, a little lower. Not only did Trevor's good looks, build and attire set him apart, but so did the bulge in his pants. Oh, geez, he was carrying something nice, very nice between his legs. I had to constantly break my stare and look away, least my feelings about him became obvious. We accidentally brushed up against each other earlier in the day, contact that stirred deep, warm feelings in me. It was the only excitement in an otherwise monotonous day, a day that had gone on too long. I know, I shouldn't complain. The work is interesting and the pay is great.
But, I wasn't happy and I wanted this meeting to end. I had to fly home tomorrow (Lausanne, sweet Lausanne - yes, I'm a Swiss working in Great Britain), and I had hoped to finish the meeting around noon, have lunch with them, then enjoy a free afternoon. I wanted to visit this superb city and finish with a massage, one of those glorious, full-body massages, where everything, mh, gets rubbed. The longer I looked at Trevor, the more I wanted that massage. (Down there.)
A friend, Brad, had given me the number for Paul, an exclusive masseur in the city. Brad said Paul had magical hands and gave full-body massages bordering on the spiritual. As the clock ticked away into the afternoon and I grew more anxious, I wanted all the spiritual help I could get.
I sighed. "Let's take a break," I suggested. Everyone agreed. I wanted to call Paul, the spiritual masseur, but his number was back at the hotel. So I headed for the restroom to flush some of the gallons of coffee I had been drinking.
The Restroom
The restroom was empty when I entered it. When I had finished and was washing my hands, Trevor came in and parked himself in front of a urinal, diagonal from the sink.
"Fast progress, today. Right, Lorris?" He unzipped his fly, reached in his pants and hauled it out, letting it hang freely as he pissed. Oh God! From what I could see, it was a fucking engineering marvel - long, thick, and sculptured, with a glorious crown.
"Yes," I answered. "As if it always goes faster than planned. Not everyone understands at the same speed."
I quietly breathed deeply. That cock's size was a definite turn-on for me. I could give up my day job if I had the right dick to suck. As I watched, I felt a ting of arousal in my pants. This meeting had definitely gone on too long.
As I practically gawked at him, I couldn't help but fantasise about Trevor and his magical tool. . . . .When he finished, he shook it a few times. It rippled almost like a long rope, but he didn't put it back in his pants. Instead, he just let it hang.
"You're doing a good job of bring everyone along," he said as he leaned against the wall.
"Thanks," I responded, sighing again. "But sometimes it's hard to keep your mind from wandering," I added, as I stared at his massive meat hanging out of his pants.
"Certainly is," he smiled. "It would be nice to relieve the monotony." He looked down at his meat, stroked it a few times and looked up at me with that come-hither-smile.
We practically fell into a stall. We were all over each other, kissing, feeling, groping, tearing our clothes off.
"We've got to make this quick," he hurriedly exclaimed. "Are you a top or a bottom?"
"I prefer top," I responded, as I tried to imagine how the hell his ramming machine could ever fit in me. Our shirts were unbuttoned and our pants were down, and pointing directly at me was his huge, fucking dick, at least 10 inches, thick, very thick, with a pare of the most gorgeous balls hanging below.
"Great," he said with anticipation and a tinge of relief. "I like the bottom." The bottom. I heard the words, but couldn't believe it. With his equipment, he liked the bottom? Is there such a thing as too big . . . I think not!
He reached down and wiped the precum off his wet crown and rubbed it on my swollen tip. Oh, God, I could feel the tingle down into my balls. This was going to be quick and wet, very wet. Turning around, he bent over exposing his heavenly ass and luscious hole. Just below his tan line were his checks tight and just the right bubble size. Light blond hairs graced the edges of his hole, which had puckered into a pinkish nipple. I slurped on my fingers and rubbed his ass-hole, pushing my finger in. He moaned and pushed back. No sense waiting I thought, as I dripped saliva on my hard ass-plunger and hoisted it into position. Pushing my crown against his hole, he pushed back and my rigid 8.6 inches plunged in. God, was he good, so ripe and tight. I descended to the base of my shaft, rubbing my pubic hairs against his checks. He moaned and reached back, grabbing my ass with both of his strong, muscular hands, pulling me tight against him and wiggling his butt and tightening his anus around my cock.
Holding his checks with both hands, I fucked his ass with long, deep thrusts, beating my cock back and forth, up and down his tight tube, slapping my balls against him. God, it was fucking wonderful. He reached under and gently fondled my balls, as they pulled tighter against me. I was building to a ravishing climax, my jism surging from my balls in a fiery blast, ready to erupt in massive explosions in his . . . .
"Excuse me... would you mind passing me some towels," Trevor asked again, as I was jolted back to reality.
"Oh, sorry. I was daydreaming," I responded as I passed him some paper towels and he wiped his hands.
"Hope she was good looking," he said, smiling and turning to leave.
"Yeah, very good looking," I replied, looking down at my tented pants, thankful I was standing close to the counter. As I followed his tight ass down the hallway, I thought to myself, this just wasn't my day - I couldn't even finish a fucking fantasy.