Burnout

By: Little Dan
(Copyrighted 2006 by the author)
 

  The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.

Which I am saddened to say can no longer be obtained! (Effective August 14th 2007)

I had an MBA from Leighton Business School, the finest in the country. I had had the highest grades in the whole class, and it should have been a slam dunk that I would get a top job in a major corporation. It should have been. Kathy and I had gotten married on that supposition. We had had our two children, Leonard and Lydia, on that supposition. But, no. I had only received offers from small companies who were not paying all that much. We were just scraping by.

I hated my assistant manager job in the financial department at Reed and Fields, the shoe company. They worked me long hours in a dingy uncongenial office where I was little more than a bookkeeper. My only consolation was to return home at the end of the day to our modest little house and spend an hour or two playing with my children before we had to put them to bed.

Then Kathy and I would go to our own room and close the door. And no matter how tired I was, we would fuck like crazy for an hour or so before drifting off. I was generally depressed, but my wonderful wife and children kept me sane. Years went by and I kept applying for different positions in better companies, but I was always passed over. Somehow the chairman of the board's nephew always got the job instead of me.

I had given my resume to a headhunter who was trying to find a better position for me, but so far nothing.

And then one day something happened. He called me on my job.

"Grand International Pharmaceuticals is looking to fill a position in the financial department. I told them you were just the guy for the job. They want to meet you."

"Really?" I asked. My heart jumped inside my three-button suit.

"Really," he told me. "It's amazing. There aren't that many good positions around, but Grand International is always hiring. Someone is always retiring."

"Great," I told him. "When can we schedule an interview?"

"I told them you had a good job right now and you didn't want your present company to know that you were looking, so they agreed to meet with you on Saturday morning at eleven. Is that all right with you?"

"That's all right with me," I assured him, and my heart gave another little jump. "Where do I go?"

He gave me the address and told me I was to see a Mr. Wally Marshall, and that the security people would know who I was when I got there, and direct me. This was so exciting. The minute I got home from work I told Kathy.

"Oh, honey, that's so wonderful. I hope you get it. You deserve it."

I did deserve it. I was so hopeful that my heart was leaping in my chest. (I had taken off my three-button suit.) That night Kathy and I made love with a new enthusiasm.

I had a good feeling about this. Even as I drove to the interview, I felt that the job was mine. I got to the Grand International Headquarters out on highway I 85. It was an enormous imposing edifice. I had often admired it while driving past it. I had often wished that I worked in those glamorous offices. It was well known that Grand International being a major Fortune 500 Company, was a fantastic place to work, and that they hired only the best. They did not stint when it came to their offices or their staff. Why would they have to stint, when they were charging so much for their patented drugs? I wanted in there. Badly.

Since it was Saturday, there were not a lot of cars in their large parking lot, so I was able to park fairly near the front entrance. An armed guard admitted me into the lobby. I told him who I was and that I was there to see Mr. Wally Marshall in regard to interviewing for a position with the Corporation. He called upstairs and I saw him nodding his head.

He led me to a bank of elevators. "Take the elevator up to the eighteenth floor," he told me. "Room 1847. They're waiting for you."

Riding up in the elevator my heart was hammering in my freshly pressed grey suit under my three-button jacket. I was wearing a starched white shirt, and a tasteful grey and red tie. I felt I looked very corporate.

I got to room 1847 and opened the door. There were three men facing me behind a large conference table. They were casually dressed in sports shirts, with the top button undone. I was dressed totally wrong. My heart plunged eighteen stories down to the lobby.

"Greg is it?" asked the man in the center.

"Yes," I said. "Greg Parsons."

I walked up to the table and he stood up to shake my hand. "Good to meet you, Greg. I'm Wally Marshall, head of product development." And he gestured to the man first on his right and then on his left as he introduced them, and they stood up to shake my hand over the table. The one on his right was Wilson Campbell, head of advertising, and the one on his left (or my right) was Craig Hanson, head of accounting. They motioned for me to sit in the single chair on my side of the table.

They were all robust healthy looking guys in their early forties. They all had ruddy faces, as if they had been in the sun or playing golf, and they all had healthy heads of hair. Was the anti-baldness drug one of theirs? I couldn't remember.

"So what can you tell us about yourself?" asked Wally. I told him what he probably already knew from my resume, about my schooling and my current position.

"And why do you want to work for Grand International?" Asked Craig Hanson, smiling at me and showing an even row of dazzling white teeth. He was very good looking. They were all very good looking. Well so was I.

"Everyone knows that Grand International is probably the best company on the globe to work for. I've always wanted to work here. I can't believe there's an opening."

"Yes. We have openings every now and then," said Wilson and he and

Wally looked at each other and smiled. "Sometimes the job just gets so intense that people burn out. I hope you won't burn out if we hire you, Greg."

"I won't," I assured him.

"You seem like a well-spoken, good-looking young guy. Just the kind of guy that we're looking for at Grand International. You fit the company image, all right," said Wally. "But at Grand International, we're a team. All the parts fit. We work together and we play together. Do you think you can handle that?" He asked.

"I know I could," I assured him. "If I am hired, I will give my heart and my soul to Grand International."

"We'll be counting on you to keep your word," said Craig. "You know what the job pays, Greg?"

"Yes," I told him. I knew. And it was unbelievable. Five times what I was now making.

"So you really want this job?" asked Wally. He knew I really wanted it. Was he torturing me?

"Yes, I do," I said as sincerely as I possibly could. "If I am hired, I promise to give my all to Grand International."

"Well. That's just the kind of guy we're looking for," said Wilson. "What do you say, guys?" he asked Wally and Craig. "Should we give Greg here the chance to do his best for Grand International?"

"I like what I see," said Craig. "I say 'yes.'"

"And I second that motion," said Wally. "Okay, Greg. You now work for Grand International. When can you start?" I could hardly believe it. After all these years of drudgery and bad pay, I was about to get the job of a lifetime.

"I should give them some notice at Reed and Fields. I mean it just wouldn't be right to quit over the weekend."

They were very understanding and completely behind my decision to give two weeks notice, and I would start at Grand International on Monday the Fifth of October, in two weeks and two days time.

I left the office a little early every day once I had given my notice, so I had more time to spend with the kids. And Kathy and I were so happy. You could tell by our lovemaking. The house was full of joy.

On Monday, October Fifth, I put on casual wear instead of a three-button suit, and drove to my new office. The parking lot was very full now, and I had to park way out and walk a long way to the building. It was the same guard (his nametag said Roscoe). He recognized me, and knew that I had been hired. He congratulated me and shook my hand. I would be working under Craig Hanson, in the accounting department on the fifteenth floor. He sent me up to Craig Hanson's office. Room 1512.

I took the elevator up and walked down the long hall. Men passed me. Young, good-looking men, just like me. I guess I really did fit the Corporate image. As a matter of fact I didn't see any women at all. When I entered room 1512, I was greeted by a handsome young male secretary, whose nametag said 'Steve.' He phoned into the inner office and told Craig that I had arrived.

He ushered me into Craig's private office. It was spectacular. Large, with deep armchairs and an enormous mahogany desk, behind which Craig was sitting. He motioned me into one of the chairs."

"Are you ready to give your heart and soul to Grand International?" he kidded me.

"I really am," I said, but I wasn't kidding.

He took me down to room 1508 which was to be my own office. It was not as grand as Craig's, but it was magnificent. Spacious, well-lit. I also had a large mahogany desk and deep armchairs. Craig sat me in front of the computer and opened up the company's financial documents. These numbers were what I would be working on.

Every day around one o'clock I went down to the basement to the company cafeteria and got to know a lot of the other guys as we ate lunch. What a nice, friendly bunch of guys. Not like those sourpusses at Reed and Fields. This wasn't like work at all. It was like a well-paid vacation. The financial duties were not difficult, and I was really enjoying myself.

I ran into Wilson in the lobby after about two weeks. "How come we never see you in the gym or the rec room?" he asked me.

"I didn't know there was a gym and a rec room," I told him.

"Hell, yeah. We've got everything here. You've got to participate. We told you that in your interview."

"I know," I told him. "I'd love to participate. I just didn't know about the gym and the rec room. Nobody told me."

"I'll have to get after Craig about that," he told me. Then he patted me on the back and went to his own office, and I went to mine. Later in the day, I asked Craig about the gym, and he promised to take me there when he had a minute. Around four o'clock or so, he would come to my office.

At four fifteen or so he opened my office door and entered. He sat in one of the armchairs across from me, as I closed down my computer for the night.

"You ready for the gym?" he asked me.

"You bet," I told him. "I could use a work-out. I haven't been exercising at all."

"Well, we'll just have to set you up with a personal trainer in the gym. We don't want our handsome young guy, Greg, getting all flabby and out of shape, do we?"

"No, we don't. I agreed." I had a nice body, and wanted to keep it as long as possible.

"I don't have any gym clothes," I told Craig.

"You can get those later," he told me. "Right now you can work out in your socks and underwear. Nobody will mind. We're very informal here."

"Great," I told him.

We went into the gym which was on the third floor. It was very large, and had all the latest equipment. Barbells. Machines. All around me there were young guys lying on mats, lifting weights. Sometimes there would be two guys and one would spot for the other, assisting as his partner lifted. A lot of these guys were also in their socks and underwear, so when I stripped off my pants and shirt and shoes and locked them in the locker Craig had assigned me, I did not feel out of place.

He brought me over to the far side of the room and introduced me to Conrad, a big furry bear of a man with enormous muscles on his arms and legs. Conrad worked in the gym and would be my personal trainer. He decided that I would lie on a mat and lift a small weight with each arm. At first the weights would be fairly light, but gradually day by day he intended to increase them. Craig smiled at me and told me he had to get back to his office, but would see me in the morning, and to tell him how I liked the gym. Conrad brought two small barbells over to me and I lay down on the mat and began lifting one at a time. Left arm. Right arm. Left arm. Right arm.

There were two guys from my department right on the next mat. They were Larry and Kenny, also assistant bookkeepers, as was I. Larry was lying on a bench doing a bench press, lifting a very heavy weight, and when he got it up, Kenny would grab hold of it and rest it in the stand. Kenny was spotting for Larry. Then they switched, and Kenny was lying down with Larry standing over him, by his head. Then the strangest thing happened. I saw Kenny reach up and fondle Larry's genitals through his gym shorts. My god! Did anyone else see this? This was really embarrassing.

Larry didn't even move away. He stood there and I could see he was getting an erection as Kenny played with his penis. I was trying to be casual, and pretend that I wasn't seeing what I was seeing, and I continued to raise the weight in my left hand and then the one in my right.

Now Kenny climbed off the bench and knelt on the mat in front of Larry. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Larry pulled down his gym shorts and his big naked dick was waving in the air for all to observe, but no one seemed to be paying that much attention to them. Only me. Then Kenny started to lick Larry's prick. Larry thrust his pelvis forward, and pressed Kenny's face to his body. Kenny reached up a hand and closed it around Larry's dick. Then he started to suck the dick. Then he started to suck Larry's large hairy balls. They were both grunting and making other noises of pleasure, and Larry's hand was on Kenny's head, directing him where to lick. His cock. His balls. His groin on each side of his balls. I could hear the slurping sounds.

"How you doing?" It was Conrad, and he was standing next to my mat.

"Do you see what they're doing?" I told him.

"Yeah. So what?"

"So what!?!?" I was astounded and amazed. "He's sucking the other guy's cock," I announced as if he didn't have eyes himself.

"And I said 'so what.'"

"Is that kind of thing tolerated here?" I asked him.

"It's not only tolerated. It's encouraged. We're a team here. We work and play together. Everybody participates. It promotes group cohesion."

"Oh," I said. I wondered did that mean me too?

"Do you want to put any more weights on today, or wait until tomorrow?" he asked me.

"Tomorrow," I told him. Conrad walked away, and I turned my head just in time to see Larry jerk his wet dick into Kenny's open mouth. And Kenny savored the white cream on his tongue and swallowed it. He scooped up the semen that had fallen on his cheeks and chin, and fed it into his mouth, licking his fingers obscenely as if it were Viennese whipped cream. I would certainly not be able to tell Kathy about the gym. It was appalling, but it must have also excited me a little, because that night I couldn't get enough of her hot pussy, and as I fucked her I kept thinking about the blowjob I had witnessed. Kenny's mouth on Larry's long thick dick.

The next day I stopped at the sports store on the way to work and bought sneakers and a gym outfit. At four o'clock I went down to the third floor and changed in front of my locker. Then I walked into the main area. I saw Conrad working with Bert, a handsome young guy from the advertising department. I had sat with Bert in the cafeteria at lunch a couple of times. Really nice guy. He was also recently employed here, as was I. We both agreed that this Grand International was the greatest place on the globe to work, and that we were both damn lucky to have landed here.

Conrad nodded to me. I walked over to a mat and sat down on it. In a few minutes, when Conrad had finished setting Bert up with weights, he came over to me.

"I'm gonna add just a little weight to what you were lifting yesterday. Think you can handle it?"

"Yes," I said.

He brought over two small barbells which were each two pounds heavier than the ones I had lifted the day before. I lay down on the mat and start lifting my arms. Left. Right. Left. Right.

I started looking around the room. I didn't see Larry today. But I did see Kenny. He was way across the long room doing a bench press with Eddie from product development. I had had lunch with Eddie a couple of times also. Another handsome young guy. Eddie took the heavy bar from Kenny's arms and placed it on the stand, then Kenny reached up and began to fondle Eddie's genitals, as he had done with Larry's the day before. Eddie immediately pulled his cock and balls out from the confines of his jockstrap and through the left leg hole of his gym shorts. Immediately Kenny was on his knees making love to this new dick. Eddie put both his hands behind Kenny's head and pressed him forward, while thrusting his pelvis toward Kenny's mouth. His eyes were closed and he was licking his lips. He was enjoying this.

I started looking around the room, and they weren't the only couple enjoying oral sex. It was happening on several other mats around the room. Way in the corner, I could see two good looking young guys sucking each other's cocks at the same time in the 69 position. I closed my eyes and began lifting the weights. Left arm. Right arm. Left arm. Right arm.

In another week I had gotten used to seeing sexual activity in the gym. It did not upset me any more. I just kept lifting my weights. Left arm. Right arm. Left arm. Right arm. Suddenly Conrad was standing above my head.

"I think I'd like to move you along a little," he said.

"You mean add more weight?"

"No. Add more activity. I notice you're not joining in the way a Grand International man is supposed to. And since I'm feeling a little horny today, I've decided to give you the honor of sucking my cock."

My heart sank. I had been afraid of this moment. But I knew I didn't dare refuse. Not if I wanted to keep my great job at this great company. I swallowed hard and made up my mind that I would suck Conrad's cock. I climbed up on my knees and knelt before him. He was fondling himself through his shorts and jockstrap. I reached my hand in from the top and got under the jock strap. I felt him in my hand. Warm. A little sweaty. He pressed my face against his shorts, then he stepped back for a second and stripped off his shorts and his jock, letting his dick spring free. I took it in my hand and gave a tentative little lick on the head. Then I licked it around the shaft a little.

"Put it in your mouth," he said. "Suck that cock."

I put it in my mouth. I started to work on it. I'll have to admit that I was not as disgusted as I thought I would be. In fact I found it a little exciting.

"Yeah. That's it. You're getting it. Suck that dick," said Conrad.

And when he was commanding me like that, it made it even more exciting, and I really began to get into it. He made me lick his balls and inside his thighs, and in his crotch around his balls, and finally he shoved his dick back into my mouth.

"Keep your throat open," he told me. "I'm gonna fuck your face."

I relaxed all the muscles in my mouth and throat and gave him access. He hammered it into me, even hitting the back of my throat, and though I was gagging a little and drooling a lot, I was very excited. I had gotten hard myself. Suddenly Conrad started to tense up and pressed my head into him, and I felt his spurts running down my gullet. It was at that moment that I lost it. I had taken my cock out and was playing with it, and when he spurted down my throat, I spurted onto the gym mat.

"You did a good job," Conrad told me. "You're really gonna fit in here. Management will be happy."

"Thank you," I told him.

"See you tomorrow, kid." And then he was gone. I put the barbells back and returned to my locker, got dressed, and drove home.

"Is anything wrong?" Kathy asked at dinner.

"No. No. Everything's great. Why?"

"You're acting a little funny."

"Funny? How?"

"I don't know. Just funny."

Later when we went to bed, I wanted to go directly to sleep. She kept kissing me and touching me down there.

"Not tonight," I said.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said. "I'm tired. That's all. Tough day at the office."

In the weeks that followed, I pursued my new hobby in the gym room. Conrad was really pleased with my progress. In the weight department and in the activity department. I got together with a lot of the guys in the late afternoons. Kenny sucked my cock. I sucked his. I sucked Larry's. I sucked Eddie's. I sucked Conrad a lot. I was getting to meet a lot of great new guys from all the different departments.

"You don't make love to me anymore," Kathy complained one night when I told her I was too tired. "What is it?"


"Nothing," I asked her. "Heavy work load. I need to get some sleep."

I mentioned to Craig that my wife was bugging me. That maybe I was giving too much at the office, because I didn't have anything left to give at home."

"Yeah. Wives can really be a drag," he told me. "They can hold a guy down. A guy has to be loose and free. My wife left me years ago, and it was the best thing. Same with most of the other execs. We're mostly happy-go-lucky single men here at Grand International."

"Well, I love my wife and I love my kids. I certainly don't want to sacrifice my marriage."

"I understand," he said, patting me warmly on the back. "It's always a tough decision."

What decision? There was no decision. I was most certainly not going to leave my wife and kids, no matter what I was doing in the company gym.

I started not to go to the gym. I had to make things right with Kathy. And after a couple of weeks, thank goodness, we were back to normal. We were fucking again and she was happy.

"I'm so glad you got over that rough spell at the office," she told me.

Craig came into my office the next day. "Conrad tells me he hasn't seen you in the gym for a couple of weeks."

"I know. I'm sorry. I have to devote more time to my wife."

"We miss you in the gym," he said. "Maybe this afternoon?"

"Okay," I said. What else could I say?

So I started going back to the gym. And Kathy started to complain again. And I complained to Craig that my wife was complaining.

"Never mind," he told me. "You're doing a good job here. We're very pleased with you."

That kind of made it all worth while. I would just have to deal with Kathy the best way I could.

A couple of weeks later I got a call from Quincy Quinn, who was Wally Marshall's new handsome young secretary. I had seen him in the gym a couple of times getting his cock sucked.

"Wally wants to see you in his office on the eighteenth floor at five o'clock."

"I usually go home at five," I told him.

"Wally wants to see you," he told me and hung up. I guessed I would be seeing Wally at five. He was a big shot in the company. I didn't dare refuse. I didn't want to screw anything up. I wondered why he wanted to see me. I had trouble concentrating on the financials all day, wondering why Wally wanted to see me.

At five p.m. I entered room 1817. Quincy was at the front desk. He picked up the phone and called Wally in the inner office. "Greg is here," he said. And then he hung up. In a moment, the door to Wally's private office opened and Wally was standing there. "Greg. Great. Right on time. Come in. Come in.

Quincy, I don't want to be disturbed," he said.

"I understand," said Quincy.

Wally led me over to the large leather sofa in the room. "Here. Let's you and me just sit here on the couch together. No need to get all formal."

"Okay," I said. I sat down. He sat next to me. "You're looking good, Greg," he told me.

"Thank you," I said.

"Yeah. I hear you've been working out in the gym a lot. That's just great. We really like our employees to join in company programs."

"Yes. The gym is great, I told him. I'm building up my muscles."

"Good. Good. That's what we like here. Conrad tells me you're doing really well, and also Craig is very pleased with you. He says you're having a little trouble at home."

"I'll work it out," I assured him.

"We know you will. The reason I wanted to see you here today, Greg, was because I wanted to move you up another level."

Did he mean a higher position? I didn't know. I didn't answer.

"You need to expand your experience a little. Don't you think?"

"I guess so," I said. I didn't know what he was talking about.

"Let me be blunt and ask you a stupid question, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

"Did you ever have a man's dick up your ass?"

I almost choked. "No!" I said firmly.

"Well that would be a new level of experience for you then, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," I said. "It certainly would."

"Well what would you say if I told you I brought you up here this afternoon to fuck your ass?"

I thought long and hard. I thought about unemployment. I thought about poverty. Finally I said, "You're the boss."

"Good," said Wally. "You've made a wise decision, Greg," he told me. "You'll do well here."

"I'm trying," I told him.

"I know you are," he said in the most understanding voice. "I know a lot of the things we do here at Grand International are a little new to you, but we appreciate your effort to get with the program. Get undressed and lie face down on the couch."

"Will it hurt?" I asked him.

"I'll use a lot of lubrication and I'll be very gentle," he assured me. "But I have an idea. We have this great new product we've developed. It's a new formulation using methohydroxic acid. We call it Vivavex. We haven't got approval on it yet, but we're working on it. This drug is gonna be our biggest blockbuster."

"What does it do?"

"It heightens sexual sensitivity to unbelievable levels. It heightens excitement and sexual energy. Actually it's a safe alternative to Crystal Meth. It produces a similar effect, but it's safe and non-addictive."

"It sounds great," I told him.

"It is great," he told me. "And I'm gonna let you sample a small dose of 5 milligrams. He walked over to a cabinet and took out a small bottle. He took out one small white pill, and then he filled a glass of water from the pitcher on his desk. He brought me the pill and the water. I was still dressed.

"Take this," he told me.

I swallowed the pill with a little sip of water and handed him back the glass.

"We'll wait a few minutes," he told me. "It takes about five minutes to start working. In the meantime let's you and me get undressed."

"Okay," I said, and stood up, beginning to take off my clothes. Wally took off his. We laid all the clothes on one of his armchairs. Finally the two of us were standing there naked facing each other. He had an erection. I didn't.

"You've got a nice body, Greg," he told me.

"Thank you," I said. Actually he had a nice body too. I didn't know whether I should say so or not. He reached out and started to fondle my dick. It felt really good. I was starting to get a little light-headed and happy. His hand on my dick was feeling better and better. I was feeling better and better. I reached out and took his dick in my own hand.

"That's my boy," he said. And I was glad he said that because I wanted to be his boy. His dick felt so good in my hand. I knew that I wanted to get down on my knees before this powerful man and take his tool into my mouth. I wanted to smell him and to taste him. I wanted to service him and give him pleasure. I sank to my knees and took his cock into my mouth. It was so wonderful. I realized that I really did love sucking cock. I had just never realized how much. And my head was spinning and singing, and my heart was pounding in my chest, and I was so excited, and I was so happy.

"My god. You're such a good cocksucker, you're gonna make me come. Can't have that," he told me. "Lie down on the couch."

Regretfully I let him withdraw his warm tumescence from my mouth. I went to the couch and lay face down on it, as he had instructed me earlier. He crossed to his desk and got a bottle of gel, and was coating his dick with it as he came over to the couch. Then he worked some of it up into me. His fingers felt so good in my body. So good. And my head was spinning and singing, and my heart was pounding in my chest, and I was so excited, and I was so happy.

He climbed over me and straddled my butt. He aimed his cock down and eased it into me. Bells went off throughout the land, and my head was spinning and singing, and my heart was thudding, and I was so excited and so happy.

"Fuck me," I screamed. "Fuck me with your big dick." And I pushed my ass up to get as much of him as possible inside of me.

"What a hungry little asshole," he said.

"Yes. Yes. Fuck my hungry little asshole. I love your dick in my ass. Dick me. Fuck me. Oh. I love it. I love it." I would never get enough of this. I had never dreamed that pleasure existed at this extreme level. I never wanted to move out of this moment.

"Oh. Your ass is sucking on my cock. Just sucking on it, like it wants to draw the juices out of me," he whispered in my ear, while pounding against my buttocks.

"Yes. My ass wants your juices. Give me your juices. Come inside of me."

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah." And he slammed into me with every 'yeah'- - - and then he tensed and I could feel his lifeforce streaming into me. I had Wally's powerful lifeforce deep within my gut. I had never been so happy in my entire life.

"That was great," he told me, pulling his erection out. "You have a magic ass there, Greg."

"Don't take it out," I begged him. "Do it again."

"Not right now," he told me. "Another time."

"Please. Please, I need it," I begged him. I desperately needed more fucking. Oh god.

"It's the Vivavex," he told me. "See how great it is. Hold on. We'll help you out."

He went over to his desk and picked up the phone. "Quincy. Get in here.
Right now."

The door opened and Quincy came in. He assessed the scene and understood immediately what would be required.

"I gave Greg a small dose of Vivavex, and he needs more fucking. Fuck him."

"Yes, sir," said Quincy, stripping off his clothes, and gazing admiringly at my muscular buttcheeks and at the little round red puffy semen-coated hole nestled between them. He was already stiff. He climbed over me and eased it in. Bells went off in my head. And my head was spinning and singing, and my heart was thumping, and I was so excited and so happy. Wally sat in his desk chair and watched me get fucked.

Quincy didn't really pound me the way Wally had. He was going nice and slow and easy, to make it last a long time. That was what I needed. To make it last a really long time. At least until that pill wore off a little. After about a half hour, he said, "I'm getting close. Raise your ass up a little." I raised my ass. He reached an arm around me and grabbed my hard dick, and as he was working himself to completion, he was jacking my cock. I felt that incredible itching in my dicktube and my semen was shooting out all over Wally's leather couch. As I shot out my seed, my ass muscles were convulsing on Quincy's cock, which made Quincy finally spill his load into me.

"Yaaaggghhh," he screamed. I made a similar appreciative yell.

"Thank you," I said. "Thank you." The pill was starting to wear off, and also I had come, so I didn't need another cock, and I was now able to get dressed and drive home.

Kathy was particularly insistent that we have sex that night. And I was particularly insistent that we would not have sex. I had had all the sex I needed or wanted on this particular day.

A few days later, Craig came into my office as I was tallying figures on the computer.

"Wally tells me he's very pleased with your progress in the Corporation. He thinks you should start visiting the rec room."

I had totally forgotten about the rec room.

"What's in the rec room?" I asked him.

"Oh. It's our main hangout place. Lots of fun and games. We have ping pong, we have pool, we have an open bar. You'll love it. I'll be back here around five p.m. to take you to the rec room."

"Okay," I said. It did sound like fun. I could really socialize with all the other guys in the rec room. Maybe shoot a little pool or something.

The rec room was the whole ninth floor. You got out of the elevator and went through another door, and there for the whole length and width of the building was the rec room. There were ping pong tables. There were pool tables. And there was even a section of the room that was a vast expanse of mats. Some guys were playing ping pong. Some guys were playing pool. There were a bunch of guys at the bar, getting cocktails. And a lot of the guys were lying on the mats, just resting. The men on the mats had taken their clothes off so as not to crush them, and some of them had even taken off their underwear. It was very, very informal.

Suddenly there was a buzz in the room. Everyone was whispering.

"We're gonna party. We're gonna party." The guys playing ping pong put their paddles down. The guys playing pool put their pool cues down. And everybody turned to face this one guy who had taken off his clothes and was lying face down on the mat.

"Alan just took a huge dose of Vivavex," they were saying. "Give it a few minutes to take effect, and then he's gonna need fucking. A lotalota fucking.

A lot of the guys were now taking off their clothing and carrying it over to the coat-check room. They came back to the mat and encircled Alan who was now bobbing his behind about in the air, as if asking for something. Asking for dick.

I recognized Randy from marketing on the seventh floor as one of the guys eyeing Alan's ass. I had had lunch with Randy a couple of times. He was one handsome sexy dude. Now I could see his big stiff cock. Lucky Alan was going to get Randy's big stiff cock. Part of me wished that I were lying on that mat helplessly under the influence of that incredible drug I had sampled. Lucky Alan. He was high on Vivavex and about to get gangfucked by Randy and a lot of other guys.

Not everyone was waiting to get into Alan though. Other things were happening. Little private events were taking place. I saw Roscoe, the security guard there, and then he saw me. He smiled. He walked over, and took me by the hand, leading me to a free mat. He dropped the trousers of his uniform, but not before taking his gun in his hand. He held it casually in his left hand, as he played with his dick with his right hand.

"How about sucking me off?" he asked me.

"Okay," I said.

"I'm married to a witch and I don't get nothing at home. Thank god I've got a good job I can come to and work off my steam."

I took him in my mouth and began to pleasure him. I was just hoping he would not get so excited that he would accidentally pull the trigger.

"Man. You're good," he said. "You give a nice blow job. Suck my balls a little."

I sucked his balls. Now he lay down on his belly and pulled his handsome asscheeks apart. "Suck my asshole," he told me. I had never done that. But I was not going to say no to a man with a gun.

"Oh, man. Your tongue feels so good in my asshole. So good. Get in there. Get in there." And he pulled his cheeks further apart. "This is great," he said, but then he turned over on his back and grabbed his throbbing dick. "Now suck my dick," he told me.

It took me about five more minutes to bring him off in my mouth. I did it totally with my mouth and tongue. I didn't use my hands at all. I was getting to be an expert at cocksucking.

"Man. You were great. We'll have to do this again," he told me.

"Sure," I said. I was ready.

Now that the ice was broken I began to interact freely with my fellow employees. I crawled from mat to mat and sucked off every dick that was waiting for a mouth. It was getting really late, and I knew that Kathy was probably worried, but I could not tear myself away from the rec room. I was having too good a time.

Finally, after much time I reached a familiar mat. It was Alan, still lying on his belly, still waving his ass in the air, still begging for cock. But there was no longer a crowd around him. Probably everybody had already fucked him and left.

"Please. Please," he sobbed. "Fuck me. Fuck me. I need more cock. Please. Please." It was pitiful but it was also exciting, and I hadn't come yet. I stripped off my pants and climbed atop of Alan.

"Thank you. Thank you," he said. "Thank you." And I began to fuck his sloshy asshole feeling the cum of many other men bathe around my dick, and the thought that I was fucking into an asshole filled with the semen of dozens was thrilling to me. I held off as long as I could, but finally I added to the volume of liquid inside his rectum.

"Please. Please. Fuck me again," he sobbed.

"I can't," I told him. I'm all fucked out. I have to get home."

"Please. Please," he begged. "Don't leave me. I need more cock. Please. Please."

There was nothing more I could do for him. I put on my trousers and went down to my car.

"Where were you?" asked Kathy.

"There was a messup in the monthly accounts," I lied.

"I tried calling you. There was no answer."

"I was in somebody else's office. We were trying to find an error."

"You could have called," she said bitterly.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. It's just that we got overwhelmed with this problem, and I just wasn't thinking."

She reheated my dinner in the microwave and put it on the table. She didn't say anything else. She was pissed and she wasn't speaking to me. I was going to get the cold treatment. Well screw her. Okay, because no way was I gonna fuck her tonight anyway.

I tried to get to the gym as often as possible. I didn't want to neglect my body, but the pull of the rec room was too much for me. I couldn't stay away. Day after day, I sucked cock after cock, and when one of the guys took Vivavex I was happy to oblige by standing in line and putting my cock up his ass. I really felt as if I belonged now. This was really my company. What a break to get a job like this.

I kept remembering the incredible feelings I had had on that one occasion when I, myself, had taken a small dose of Vivavex. I was longing to feel those feelings again. Maybe if I took just a tiny dose?

There was a large bowl full of five milligram tablets on the bar, for whoever might want it. One day I screwed up my courage and went to the bar and ordered a scotch and soda. I took a sip of scotch. Then another sip of scotch. I was building up my courage. Then I took one little 5 milligram pill. This was not a big dose. I know that most of the guys lying ass up on the mat had taken about 100 milligrams, so 5 milligrams was not such a big deal.

I walked around the room watching all the action on the mats. It was just private action. No one had taken Vivavex yet, except moi. In about five minutes those wonderful feelings began to dance around my body. I could feel it in my dick. I could feel it in my asshole. My head was spinning and singing. My heart was thumping, my ears were ringing, my vision was clouding, and I was so excited and so happy, and I wanted to get fucked. Oh god. How I wanted to get fucked.

I checked my clothes at the coat-check and walked onto one of the mats and lay face down, and began gyrating my midsection, advertising that I was premedicated and totally receptive. Pretty soon, people started to notice. Guys were putting down their ping pong paddles and their pool cues, and were gathering around me, watching the tortured contortions of my pelvic area.

"How much did you take?" a voice asked me. I looked over my shoulder. It was Wilson, one of the men who had hired me.

"Only 5 milligrams," I told him.

"That's not a lot, but you're only a beginner. Come on, men, he announced. This lad needs to get his ass fucked and right now. He only took a small dose, so you can't all get into him. Maybe about five, I guess. We'll see how much he can take."

And then I felt a body climb on top of me and put his cock into me and plunge away. I just closed my eyes and went with the feeling. I didn't know who was fucking me. I didn't care who was fucking me. I just wanted a cock massaging the itchiness of my ass walls. Oh god. It was so great. I felt the cock expand and explode within me, leaving jets of hot cum inside me. Then I felt a cold draft on my back as he got up, but only for a second, and another warm body was lying on my back, and another big cock was whipping the cum in my rectum into a heady froth. I closed my eyes and enjoyed.

I enjoyed for about an hour. Then my head started to stop spinning and singing, and my hearing and vision returned to normal. The bells had stopped ringing. I had had enough cock and I was getting sore. When the guy who was on me at that point shot off into me, I rolled over and said, "Sorry, guys. That's it for today."

"You did good, Greg," said Wilson, wrapping an affectionate arm around my shoulder as I stood up a trifle unsteadily. "You took more cock that I figured you could. You're a good man. I'm glad we took you on. You really are a credit to the Corporate Community."

"Thank you," I told him.

"Are you happy here? Is everything going well for you?"

"Yes," I said. "The job's great. It's just that I'm having a little bit of a difficult time at home. My wife feels she isn't getting as much attention as she used to."

"That can be a problem," said Wilson. "I had that problem myself. Women can be a distraction Greg. The most important thing is your career. You have to focus. Don't let her pull you down."

"I know," I said. "I'm trying to deal with it."

"Good man." He gave me another affectionate squeeze.

"Where's Alan from advertising?" I asked him. "I haven't seen him around for a few days."

"Oh, Alan is no longer with us. We had to let him go.

"Let him go?" I was shocked. Alan's ass was the first ass that I had fucked and I remembered it fondly. I remembered him pleading with me to fuck him again and again. "What happened?" I asked.

"The work load just got to be too much for him. He couldn't take it any more. It was a case of burnout."

"What a shame," I said. "Nice guy." I guessed I wouldn't be fucking his sloppy butt any more."

"Keep up the good work," Wilson told me, giving me one more affectionate squeeze before I got dressed and left the building to drive home.

When I got home I had to reheat my own dinner in the microwave. It was pretty late, and Kathy had already gone to bed. I undressed and climbed in. She said nothing. I guess we weren't speaking any more. I switched off the lamp on the night table and went to sleep.

A couple of days later, Craig came into my office. "Greg. You made a little mistake in the September accounts receivable."

"I did?"

"Yes." And he showed me where I had gone wrong. "We can't have that, Greg. You need to concentrate on your work."

"I know," I said. "I'll be more careful. I promise."

"I hear you're having problems at home. Wouldn't it be better if you were your own man?"

"I love my wife and I love my kids. I don't want to lose them," I told him.

"Don't let her ruin your career," he advised me, and then he left.

It was about a week later when I got home after a 5 milligram session in the rec room that I found the house dark and quiet.

"Kathy?" I called. "Kids?" I called. No answer.

I went into the living room and switched on a floor lamp. There was a DVD lying on the coffee table and a note. "This DVD was in the mailbox. I can't believe what I'm seeing. I'm taking the children and going home to my parents' house. Don't even try to call me or try to see the children. We never want to see you again, you disgusting man."

Oh god. What was on that DVD? I turned on the TV and put the DVD into the player. Oh god. It was horrible. Scene after scene of my sucking different cocks and getting fucked in the ass. Scene after scene after scene. I was sick. They had filmed everything I had been doing in the rec room. And there I was sucking dick after dick after dick and getting fucked in the ass by dick after dick after dick. My face was clearly visible in every scene, but it had been edited so that no one else's face was visible.
Either it was pixilated out, or else you just saw the dick going into me. Who could have done this terrible thing to me? I had lost my family. I broke down and cried, crumpling the letter in my hand.

I did not go to the rec room for the next couple of weeks. I did not go to the gym. I was like a zombie. I did my work and then I went home to my lonely house. I had closed off all my emotions.

Craig noticed that I was very glum and asked me what the matter was, and why they hadn't seen me in the gym or the rec room for a while. I told him what had happened. That someone had mailed a DVD to my wife, of me doing things in the rec room, and that my wife had taken the children and left me for good.

"You're much better off," he told me. "You feel bad now, I know, but after a while you'll realize it was all for the best. You can really devote yourself to Grand International now. Maybe someone in management felt that you needed to be cut loose and sent that DVD. Come on back to the rec room this afternoon, Greg."

I tried to focus on my work all day, but all I could think of was the rec room. I knew I would be going back. That was what I wanted. To drown my sorrows in Vivavex and mansex.

I knew that tonight was the night I was going to break free. I was going to really enjoy myself, without having to worry about the wife at home. Maybe the guys were right. I was better off on my own. Better off cutting loose and being free.

At first when I got into the rec room, I got into a pool game with Jim, and Frank, and Chris from the legal department. Great bunch of guys. There was a little private action going on, on the mats, but nothing really exciting, so we played pool.

But then I started thinking how great it was to be lying ass-up naked on the mats, with my ass beckoning to one and all. To be the center of attention. I wanted to be the center of everyone's attention at Grand International. This was my life now. This was where I lived. I damned well was going to participate in team activities, if that's what they wanted.

I excused myself from the pool game and went over to the bar. I ordered a weak mixed drink, and counted out twenty 5 milligram tablets from the large bowl. I swallowed them four at a time. They were pretty small. I finished my drink and wiped my mouth dry with my shirt sleeve. Then I went back to the pool table to announce what I had just done.

"I just took some Vivavex," I told Jim, and Frank, and Chris.

"You did? How much?" Frank asked me.

"100 milligrams," I told him.

"100 really?" Chris asked me.

"Yeah," I said.

"It looks like you wanna have a good time tonight," Jim observed.

"I really do," I said. "I want to forget all about my troubles. Just totally forget." And then I stumbled a little.

"Are you okay, guy?" asked Jim.

"Maybe a little dizzy," I confessed.

"Here. Let us help you over to the mats." They guided me over to the mats, and helped me to disrobe before laying me face down with my thighs spread wide. My hard prick was rubbing against the mat cloth. Jim took my clothes over to coat-check, which was good, because I wouldn't have been able to do it. Everything was spinning and twirling. And the room was all colored lights, but I couldn't really make out anyone's face anymore. And my ears were filled with an incredible sea sound. I was half in my body and half on some distant planet. But the half of me that was in my body wanted to get fucked. It wanted cock. A lot of cock.

I started babbling incoherently. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Somebody fuck me please. Please fuck me." I kept babbling and babbling until I felt a weight on my back and the head of a dick enter my tight channel.

"Oh yeah. Yeah. Fuck me. Fuck me," I screamed. It was like I couldn't get enough cock into me. Never enough. There wasn't enough cock in the room or even in the corporation to fill the giant need in my asshole. "Fuck me. Fuck me."

And one after another they did, but I kept begging for it. I heard one of the guys call out to everyone in the room. "Hey guys. Greg just took 100 milligrams. You know what he wants. Give it to him."

I don't know how many hours I lay on that mat, getting fucked, but I finally fell asleep, and even in my sleep I knew they were fucking me all night long. I never went home. I would not have to drive back to the office in the morning. I had slept in the rec room with cock after cock in my ass.

I finally woke up and yawned. My ass felt really raw. I touched my finger to it, but there was no blood, so I was okay. A lot of glob spilled out onto my finger from my asshole. I wondered how many quarts of cum I was carrying inside me.

I went to the coat-check and got my clothes. I would shave up in my office. Fortunately I had an electric razor in my desk drawer.

I had a lot of trouble concentrating on numbers that day, because all I could think of was the end of the day and going back to the rec room for another 100 milligrams. I stopped off in the gym after work and took a hot shower. I went to the cafeteria and had a light dinner. Then I went up to the rec room.

A lots of guys smiled at me and waved to me. I didn't even know who they all were, but they seemed to know who I was. Good. I was really the center of attention now. I was a star at Grand International.

I played ping pong with a couple of different guys and lost. Then I went over to the bar and ordered a drink. I counted out twenty little tablets. That was what I needed. That was my dose. 100 milligrams. I swallowed them.

Quickly I went to the coat-check and checked my clothes and walked naked back to the mats. Everyone seemed to be watching me. Now my vision was turning into colored light flashes again, and I had that sea-roar in my ears. As I sank down into position, I announced loudly for all to hear. "I took 100 milligrams. 100 milligrams." Then I buried my face in my folded arms and waited for the inevitable to happen.

I felt the first one enter me, and it was like I was complete again. My spinning head was buried in my folded arms, as the hips pounded against my bottom cheeks, and the long spear tickled my tunnel, finally shooting the hot lifeforce into me. When he lifted off me, I felt a cold draft on my sweaty back for only a second, before a warm new weight pleasantly flattened me once again. It was so soothing. I was completely at peace. I was even dozing off a little in the middle of it all, and

I woke up on the mat, and it was morning. I was alone in the rec room. I had been abandoned. I felt my bottom. There was a crusting of dried sperm here and there on my asscheeks, but when I touched my hole, it was very wet. A little liquid oozed out. I closed down upon it and waited till I got to the men's room to give it up.

I took a shower in the gym and shaved in my office. I turned on my computer and began to do my figures. They were hardly even making sense anymore. The computer screen kept dissolving into flashes of colored lights, and I had a strange dullness in my ears, as if I were hearing things through a very long narrow tunnel.

I blinked and tried to refocus my attention. It wouldn't be good to start making mistakes. At lunchtime in the cafeteria, everyone was pointing at me, and smiling, and nodding. I felt really appreciated. Like I had never felt before. I couldn't wait for the drudgery of the work-day to be over, so that I could hop into the cafeteria for a quick sandwich, and then head on up to the rec room.

When I entered, the ping pong games stopped. The pool games stopped. Everybody was looking at me wondering if I was going to take the 100 milligrams again. Of course I was. I swallowed the pills, and had another wonderful evening in the rec room. If it wasn't memorable, it was only because it was all so soothing and comforting and relaxing that I was drifting off much of the time.

Later the next morning, Craig came into my office. "You made another mistake," he told me. You could have cost the company 40 million dollars."

"Oh, god," I said. "Where?" and he showed me.

"This is so terrible. I am so very, very sorry. I swear to you it will never happen again. I will be much more careful. Trust me."


"I wish I could. You're beginning to worry me," he said. "Maybe you're spending too much time in the rec room. Maybe you need to go home and catch up on some sleep for a few weeks. Rest up."

"But you wanted me to participate. To be part of the team. I thought I was doing what you wanted."

"Of course we want that," he told me. "But there are limits. You have to strike a balance. Get a sense of proportion. You're letting the rec room take over your life."

"I know. You're right," I told him. "But I have no family anymore. Only an empty house. Everything I want is right here."

"You should rest up a couple of weeks," he advised me.

I nodded my head, but I wasn't really absorbing what he was saying. I could only think of the flashing colored lights, and the sea-foam sounds, and the comfort of being possessed by many nameless men, their strong chests resting on my back, as their hips pistoned their manhoods into me.

I went back to the rec room that night. I couldn't live without the rec room. It had become my whole reason for existence. My whole life. Tonight I had even decided to be a little more reckless than usual. I upped my dose to 150 milligrams. I check my clothes and barely got to the mat in time, before collapsing in a semi coma. I managed to tell a few people "150 milligrams," before going down. Their jaws drapped. Through the sea-roar in my ears, I could hear the buzz, buzz, buzz of information being passed.
"150 milligrams. 150."

I raised my head a little off my folded arms and could see that I was surrounded by dozens and dozens of willing fornicators. I closed my eyes and waited for someone to break the ice. I only had to wait a minute. And then it was off again to my incredible sexual dreamland, enfolded and protected by all my coworkers. Giving them exquisite pleasure as they pounded to pulse their liquids into me.

I couldn't stop the rec room. It was all I thought about.

Another week went by, and Craig came to my office. "You're doing shoddy work, Greg. We can't have this at Grand International Pharmaceuticals."

An icy fear struck my heart.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go," he told me. "You're a classic case of burnout. I was afraid this might happen. I told you to stay out of the rec room for a while"

I now remembered how Alan had suddenly disappeared, also with burnout. He had probably been doing what I had been doing. I should have realized that but it was too late now.

"Oh, no please," I begged Craig. I got down on my knees before him and tugged at his pants legs, crying like a baby. "Grand International is my life. Please don't do this to me."

"I have no choice. The officers are all agreed that you're a loose cannon. That you're a danger to the Corporation. You could end up costing us billions. We can't afford you. We want you out of the building immediately. I've sent for Roscoe to come up and escort you out.

"It was the Vivavex,," I told him. "It got me addicted. It's not my fault."

"That drug is non-addictive. It's all you, not Vivavex You have no sense of proportion or self-control" He walked out of the office and left me sobbing loudly on the floor.

Roscoe entered my office.

"I hear they're letting you go," he told me.

"Yes," I said.

"I'm supposed to escort you out of the building. I hope you understand."

"I understand," I told him. "It's not your fault."

"I'm gonna miss you, Greg. I had a lot of good nights fucking your hot little ass."

"You did?" I asked. "I hadn't even known you were there."

"No. You had your eyes closed. Just your ass was wide open. I think you were sleeping a lot and didn't even know whose cock was in you."

"That's true. I didn't care. I just wanted to feel that feeling."

"I'm gonna miss you up in the rec room. I loved your ass, man," he said ruefully. Are you ready to leave? They really want you out of here."

"I guess so," I said. "But I don't know what I'm going to do. And the worst part is that I need my Vivavex. I'm totally dependent on it now, and I won't have any way of getting it. What's gonna happen to me now? I'll kill myself.

"Well, I'll tell you what. You've been real nice to me, letting me fuck your ass and all that, even though you didn't know it was me. I'm gonna set you up with a lifetime supply. I have a key to the storeroom and they have bags and bags of those little white pills there. I'm gonna load you up, so you'll never want for it again."

"Oh, thank you. Thank you, Roscoe. I'll love you to my dying day," And I threw my arms around him and squeezed him to me.

We went to the storeroom and Roscoe filled a shopping cart with 10 five pound bags of Vivavex. We wheeled it out to my car, and loaded it in the trunk. At least I had that.

I hung around the house for a while, sleeping a lot. I called my headhunter, but he had nothing for me. Finally I found a couple of ads in the paper looking for an account executive. I went for the interviews and submitted my resume, and it turned out that those fucking bastards at Grand International wouldn't even give me a good recommendation. They said I had poor work habits, and also that I had a personality disorder. That I was compulsive in a very destructive way.

It got to the point where I didn't know where the next month's rent was going to come from. I had to move out of my house. I went to the city and blended in with all the other homeless men walking the streets. The only thing I owned were many safety deposit vaults in different banks, where I stashed my horde of Vivavex.

I had not taken a Vivavex tablet since leaving Grand International. What would have been the point? I had been in my house alone. When I swallowed Vivavex, I would need there to be other men around. A lot of other men.

I tried sleeping on grates and in doorways, but I was too exposed. That wasn't for me. I was very lucky, however, and found a shelter for homeless men, and I was able to get a cot in the enormous dormitory almost every night for only fifty cents, which was easy to get when I went begging on the subways.

The first night I was in the shelter, I was a little nervous, and I wanted to keep my wits about me. But everything seemed to be all right. They were all really nice guys, just a little down on their luck like I was. And then I thought, "damn. I bet they never even get laid. Where would a homeless guy go to get laid? So maybe I could do them a little favor. Them and also myself."

The second night I took my usual dose, 100 milligrams, and toddled to my cot in the center of the room. I lifted my shirt above my waist, and rolled my pants down around my ankles, and lay there butt up exposed. The guys all started snickering. At first they thought it was funny, and that I was playing some kind of joke, but when the pills started to hit me and I started to sway my midsection around and moan, they knew that my ass was available for hard dick.

One of them came over and nervously touched my buttcheek. I moaned and raised my ass up. "Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me," I begged.

"He wants to get fucked," he told the other guys.

"Well go ahead," someone said. "Don't keep the man waiting." And in another minute I had that comforting weight resting along my back, and the tip of a prick was entering my asshole.

I don't know how many of them fucked me, because I drifted off to sleep in the middle of the ecstatic pleasure I was feeling. I only know that the next night when I checked into the shelter, everyone was smiling at me, and making me feel special, and even offering me nips from their little flasks. I took another 100 milligrams.

I take it every night now. The men all know what they can expect from me, and I will not disappoint them. At this very moment, there is a homeless man on top of me with his cock buried deep in my ass. The colored lights are flashing in my eyes, and the sea-roar is in my ears, and my head is spinning and singing and my heart is pounding in my chest, and I am very excited and very happy.

 

Posted: 06/15/07