Who's the Boss?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’ll have that report on my desk in the morning, right?”

 

Entirely unamused, Gary lifted his eyes to give Roger a steely glare but it apparently went unnoticed.

 

“Thanks, Gary.”  And Roger patted him patronizingly on the shoulder before walking away.

 

I swear, thought Gary, watching the assistant manager stroll through the office, if he didn’t have such a fantastic ass…

 

Strictly speaking, Roger wasn’t Gary’s direct supervisor, but he was one of the higher-ranked managers in the company, and therefore it was just possible they could get in big trouble for being in a relationship.

 

Which is why they’d made sure to keep it a secret.

 

Neither of them had ever lied about it, or would if asked directly.  But they did a good job of navigating around the topic whenever it might come up, and kept themselves out of any potential hot water.

 

Metaphorical hot water, that is.  Gary recalled this morning’s incredible interlude in the shower, Roger’s dick pounding in and out of his ass while the hot streams from the shower head pounded against them, dripping down along with the sweat of their exertions.

 

Shit.  Gary looked down at his lap before scooching his chair forward to hide his boner from anyone’s view, should they happen to pass by his cubicle.

 

Luckily, he knew exactly what to think about to make his rampaging hard-on lose its eagerness: that goddamn supercilious attitude Roger had as he swaggered around the fucking office.

 

In this place they were not two lovers, but a manager and a lowly clerical worker, and most of the time Gary had no problem with that.  But when Roger let that power get to his head, started throwing his weight around to get people not even under his supervision to do one more task when they already had a huge fucking pile in their inbox…

 

He stopped, took a deep breath.  Just get through the next forty minutes, Gary.  When that whistle blows, you’re home free.

 

Upon reaching the far end of the office, Roger looked over the maze of cubicles to find Gary’s head peeping over, and beamed out that irresistible lopsided grin.  Gary’s heart melted, and he smiled back as a warm contentment began in his chest before seeping into every pore of his body.

 

But he still wasn’t going to do that dam analytics report.  That was a sore spot, and Gary had other shit to do.

 

As usual, Roger drove them home.  Gary had his own car, but his boyfriend’s was better and it was only natural that they share a vehicle instead of spending the money to ride separately.

 

Still, Gary harbored a modicum of antipathy over the fact that it was always Roger that drove them anywhere.  Always his choice of movie, always his choice of restaurant.

 

He loved Roger, and wanted to make him happy, but once in a goddamn while it would be nice to do something he wanted to do.  Was that too much to ask?

 

They’d gotten Chinese food on the way home, and Roger carried both bags in one hand as they ascended the stairs to their apartment.  It was a fancy place – one they’d picked out together – which Gary never could have afforded, but on both their incomes it was a snap.

 

One of the benefits of dating the boss, Gary figured.

 

Reaching one hand into his sport coat, Roger fumbled for his keys, cursing to himself as he furrowed a sculpted brow over frustrated eyes.  When he was flustered like this, Roger was the most adorable creature he had ever seen, and with a light laugh Gary leaned over to plant a kiss right in the middle of the wrinkles on the man’s forehead.

 

“You’re cute when you’re irritated,” Gary laughed.  “I ever tell you that?”

 

Roger’s mood softened, locking eyes with Gary before bringing his face into contact with his, smooching him noisily and almost violently.

 

Not wanting to let the food get cold, Gary broke the kiss (which was just starting to heat up) producing his own key to let the pair of them inside.  Roger scowled at losing those luscious lips, but had to admit he was ready to set his bags down and get down to supper.

 

While his boyfriend separated the boxes out on the counter, the smell of the food intoxicating with its mélange of spices and meats wafting around the huge kitchen/living room space, Gary opened the fridge to inspect their beverage selection.

 

Ah.  A nice Riesling huddled at the back behind a stack of leftovers both of them had forgotten about, and Gary withdrew it, perusing the label even though he was intimately familiar with the drink already, having picked it out himself.

 

“Hon.”  Roger looked back over his shoulder.  “Can you get the glasses?”

 

“Sure, babe.”

 

Once he had poured the drinks, Gary rubbed his hands eagerly together and grabbed a box from the counter.  But his face instantly fell as he saw what was inside.

 

“Where’s my Moo Shu?”

 

Roger, his mouth already full of his own portion, pointed a chopstick Gary’s way.  “I ordered Moo Goo Gai Pan.  You remember we were talking about that the other day?”

 

Calming himself with a few deep breaths, Gary slurped down most of his Riesling before reacting.  “I said I wanted Moo Shu Chicken.”

 

Roger shrugged, and in a very flippant and uncaring tone, he replied, “I felt like something different today.”

 

The stresses of the day still gripped tight at Gary’s insides, and with this act of selfishness ladled on top he just boiled over.  Smashing the glass of wine on the ground, Gary practically roared in anger.

 

His boyfriend stopped with a chopstickful of food on the way to his mouth, astounded at the sudden reaction.  Glanced at the shards on the floor which glinted threateningly up at them amidst a small pool of wine.

 

“Goddammit, Roger!”  Gary  pounded both fists against the kitchen island where they stood eating.  “We’re not at work, you’re not the fucking boss here!  You could try acting like we’re equal fucking partners for once.”

 

Swallowing in surprise, Roger lowered his chopsticks back into the box, mouth gaping, then closing, then gaping again.  Unsure what to say; taken completely aback at this outburst.

 

“Every fucking time,” Gary continued, tears starting to sting his eyes, though he held them back as best he could, “we do what you want to do.  And I don’t mind.  I want you to be happy.  But once in a fucking while you could listen to what I want, act like you give a damn about my happiness.”

 

Still goldfishing, Roger backed away from the island counter, watched as Gary rounded it to stand right in his face and practically spit through his anger.

 

“In this fucking house, Roger darling, you ain’t nobody’s boss.  You could try to fucking remember that!”

 

A red heat flushing his face, Roger panted, an odd glint in his eye as he cowered before his raging boyfriend.  One hand pulled nervously at his already loose tie, and he licked his lips hungrily.

 

“You…”  He gulped.  “You wanna be the boss?”

 

Gary fumed, his thin beard bristling at Roger’s question, but when he saw the anticipatory tremble in the man’s hands, it led his gaze to the crotch of Roger’s navy pants.

 

What the fuck?  He had a goddamned erection!

 

Incredulous, Gary waved his arms and gasped, “You’re getting off on this?  The hell, man.”

 

Roger’s eyes were wild, his boner growing more untenable as he placed a hand on it.  Chewed his lip enticingly.  “You want to have your way, Gary?  Come on then.  Have your way with me.  Be the boss.”

 

What kind of fucked up roleplay was this?  Gary had a serious concern, and here his boyfriend was getting a chubby, playing the submissive like he never had before.  This was a serious issue in their relationship, and Roger was treating it like a fucking sex game!

 

And yet, Gary could not deny the blood rushing to his own groin as he saw Roger heat up, heard him acquiesce to whatever Gary was demanding.

 

Just for once, Gary would get to be the man in charge, would get to decide what fucking happened in this house.  Would get what he wanted.

 

And right then, he knew exactly what he wanted.

 

Grabbing Roger’s face, he smashed their lips together, showing no grace or romance but just eagerly slurping at the man’s handsome visage.  If there was one thing Gary could say about Roger, it’s that he was the most gorgeous fella he’d ever been with, and right now he wanted to eat that beautiful face as an appetizer.

 

Their tongues writher around each other, Gary pulling his partner’s face to him as though to devour him whole.  For his part, Roger sank down slightly, allowing his significant height advantage to slip away.  Backing against the rear of the sofa which stood right beside them and bending back somewhat over it.

 

Gary continued to lick and suck at his partner’s tongue, going with the motion and bending him back even further over the couch.  Moving one hand from Roger’s face, he used it to fondle that huge bulge in the man’s pants, finding the length of his rod beneath the fabric and clutching at it firmly, massaging it.

 

Roger moaned, the sound reverberating in Gary’s mouth, and he smiled through the kiss, continuing to slobber all over his boyfriend’s face.

 

The thin fabric of those dress pants was struggling to contain Roger’s erection, and his own hand joined Gary’s in clutching at his penis.

 

“Mmmm, Gary,” he moaned through their wrestling tongues.  “Make me cum.  I wanna cum, Gary.”

 

The shorter man, enjoying his dominant position here, pressing Roger back to bend awkwardly over the rear of the couch, lifted his face off and grinned diabolically.

 

“Oh, you wanna cum?”  Never stopping that hand fondling the man’s crotch, he pecked at Roger’s lips one more time.  “You want my hand, my mouth, all over that throbbing cock?  Rubbing it, sucking it, working you to an explosive climax?  Giving that to you?  Giving you that amazing orgasm?  That what you want Roger?”

 

He moaned pleadingly, puppy dog eyes gazing up as his hair – now shining with sweat – hung back away from his face in that bent-back position.  Gently, encouragingly, Roger continued to guide Gary’s hand in manipulating his genitals, until the other man slapped it away and hissed.

 

“You don’t touch yourself,” he ordered, and saw Roger shiver from the command.  Felt his cock twitch enticingly as he was dominated by his usually quietly receptive partner.  “You want relief, I’m the man to give it to you.  Is that what you want?  Speak, goddammit.”

 

Barely audible through begging moans, his words drifted up.  “Yes.  Please, mmmm, Gary.  For god’s sake.  Give it to me.  Please!”

 

That made Gary smile all the wider, and he smacked his lips once more onto Roger’s wetly before crouching down before his pelvis.

 

Uncaring for the survival of the expensive fabric, Gary snapped the pants open, pulling the sides apart to unzip the fly rather than take the time to lower it properly.

 

He was all worked up here, and wanted that cock as badly as Roger wanted to give it to him.

 

As that mighty member leapt forth from his boxers, Gary licked his lips to collect the drool that pooled on them.  This cock was the perfect size and shape, as far as he was concerned.  Straight and proud, with an almost purple head swelling in response to Roger’s lust.  The hairs at its root were shaved off, though Roger kept it pretty furry down there in general – which Gary liked.

 

It was a well-tended jungle, his dick the smooth bole of a powerful tree rising out of the undergrowth.  And Gary was eager to climb it.

 

He spat on the shaft before grabbing hold of it firmly and rubbing back and forth, eliciting a sigh of relief from his partner.  Roger was cut, unlike Gary, and with less skin to slide up and down the length of his penis it was often advantageous to get a little bit of natural lubricant on there.

 

As he worked his hand roughly up and down, Gary withdrew his own cock from his pants, gauging the size and feel of it in his left hand while the right jacked at Roger’s.

 

Gary kept his own crotch shaved, preferring the smooth feel down there, and his dick was somewhat smaller than Roger’s throbbing giant.  It was still above average – “big” even, he’d say – but the size difference as he compared the cocks he held in each hand was very noticeable.

 

Rubbing himself, enjoying the silky feel of his rumpled foreskin sliding back and forth along the glans, he continued to shake his right hand back and forth furiously on Roger’s cock.

 

And then he took it into his mouth.  The girth of that beautiful dick filled him, sucking all the free air from inside his mouth, and he reveled in the feel of it beneath his tongue, along the side of his cheeks.  Clamping his left hand tighter on his own cock, he bobbled back and forth on Roger’s, moaning as he savored its length, its spicy taste.

 

“Oh god.”  Roger sounded delirious, his back bending further over the top of the couch as he sagged in transcendent pleasure.  “Keep doing that, Gary.  Oh fuck, babe, keep going.  God damn.  Yes!”

 

Gary smiled, using his hand to cover the part of the cock not in his mouth as he went on using the other to pleasure himself.  It grew wet from his own saliva as he moved faster and faster on Roger’s cock, and eventually he let go – deciding to take the entire length of it inside of him.

 

“Fuck!” Roger squealed as Gary relaxed his throat and took it down deep within.  He’d had an awful lot of practice at it, and by now could do it with ease.

 

The first time they’d tried deep-throating (Gary had never done it with anyone else) it hadn’t gone well.  He’d felt the gag reflex come on strong, and had run to the bathroom to vomit.

 

Not the sexiest time they’d ever had.

 

But after that they took it more slowly, and Gary found he really enjoyed the act of accepting Roger’s immense cock right down his pulsating throat.  Maybe there weren’t any pleasure centers down there, maybe there were.  Gary didn’t know.  It could just be the mental satisfaction of knowing what it did to his partner, but he just felt a torrent of enjoyable sensations wash over him every time he swallowed Roger’s sword.

 

Removing his hand from his own penis for now, Gary steadied himself against his boyfriend’s pelvis, gripping him and pulling him deeper inside.  His nose smashed up against the rock-hard front of Roger’s lower abdomen.  An expert by now, he closed his throat muscles in and out from around the cock that sat between them, knowing from the sounds of ecstasy above his head just what this was doing to his partner.

 

Roger always spurted a couple of hard splatters of precum just before he ejaculated proper, and Gary recognized the signs.  The clear fluid splashed against his throat, and he immediately ejected the cock from his mouth, denying Roger the orgasm which was obviously imminent.

 

With a slap, Gary kept his boyfriend from completing the job manually, and he rose back up to the man’s face, opening his mouth and kissing him deeply.  Using his tongue to spoon the drops of precum still there into Roger’s mouth, letting him taste his own sweetness.

 

“You don’t get to cum,” he warned his partner as he lifted his face from him eventually, panting raggedly, “until I do.  You understand me?”

 

Wincing on the edge of ultimate pleasure, Roger gasped, only able to nod.  He lifted himself from the back of the couch, making to kneel before Gary, but a shake of the head warned him that was not on the cards.

 

“Huh-uh.”  Gary pointed a finger toward their bedroom and barked an order.  “Go get the lube.”

 

Roger’s eyes sparkled, and he untangled the pants that were pooled around his legs, hopping in an ungainly zig-zag down the hallway.

 

“And don’t you dare touch yourself!” Gary called out as he removed his own pants.  “If you make yourself cum, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

 

He could see Roger’s face fall as he dipped inside their room, but Gary only chuckled and lifted his shirt over his head before smoothing the displaced hairs back with a bit of spit.

 

Roger was back in a flash, offering up the small bottle of lubricant with a deferential bow.  Yanking it from his grasp, Gary indicated the back of the sofa again, seeing no need to change their location.

 

“Bend over.  Now!”

 

Seeing this domineering personality for the first time in their history together, Roger seemed to be boiling over with lust and he leaned over the sofa to present his ass with a desperate yearning.

 

“Take me, Gary,” he mewled.  “Stick it in me.”

 

With a frown, he smacked Roger’s hairy buttock hard enough to ring with a huge echo around their cavernous living space.

 

“Ah!”

 

His ass cheek reddened, and Gary poked at the spot curiously.  “You don’t tell me what to do.  Not here in our home.  Understood?”

 

Whimpering, Roger replied, “Yes.  Sorry.  Just… please take me, Gary.  I want you so bad.  Want your cock in my ass, want to feel you cum right up there inside me.  Please, I want it.  I need it.”

 

Getting severely turned on now, Gary knelt to lick teasingly at Roger’s puckered hole, wincing at the errant hairs all around.  Not that he usually minded, but later they’d talk about maybe shaving him up a bit back here for next time.

 

Now, though, Gary just licked around the wrinkled sphincter, planting a couple of quick kisses, before getting down to business.

 

He’d love to really eat that ass, but Little Gary down here was getting a bit desperate and needed to find someplace nice and warm to get itself some sweet release.

 

Standing again then, Gary splashed some lubricant on his hands, slathered his dick in it, then used his slick hand to work a finger into Roger’s anus.

 

The moans of pleasure were delightful to Gary, and he loosened up Roger’s hole enough to switch fingers.  Jerked his index finger in and out long enough to prepare that ass (hopefully) for his cock.

 

By now he was flooded with hormones, desperate to get his end away, and as soon as he thought Roger was ready, he gripped his dick and held the tip against the small opening in the middle of his ass crack.

 

“You ready, Roger?  Speak!”

 

“Yessss.  I’m so ready, Gary.  Please, give it to me, I’m so horny, I’m ready to spurt, Gary, I really am.  Oh god, stick in me now, I’m fucking begging you.”

 

What else could he do in response to that?  With a gentle movement, Gary popped the head of his penis inside Roger’s waiting ass.

 

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck.”  Roger grunted: in pleasure, surely?  Instinctively, he began to slip a hand down between himself and the back of the couch, but Gary jerked it roughly away, leaning powerfully over to hiss in the man’s ear.

 

“Nuh-uh-uh.  You don’t touch yourself, you hear me?  Not a bit, not till I say so.  Understood?”

 

The answer was little more than a whimper, but Gary accepted it, driving his cock all the way in now until his groin slammed into the pert muscles of Roger’s backside.

 

He realized now that he may have been a bit chintzy with the lube, as the amount of friction between his cock and Roger’s asshole was far greater than normal.  If Roger had a problem with it, though, he never said and Gary was enjoying the more complete feel of his skin against the walls of his boyfriend’s anus, and he kept going, faster and faster.

 

Roger’s grunts, his moans, his sighs, were erotic as hell, and Gary pumped at an incredible speed against his ass, gripping those hips in a machine-like clamp.  Sweat poured down into his eyes, stinging them like crazy, but he didn’t stop to wipe it away – couldn’t.

 

This felt too good, too primal.  Gary couldn’t put a halt to this urgent thrusting any more than he could stop his heart from beating – it had become an instinct, a deep-seated drive.

 

Sex had never felt like this before, so animalistic, so intense.  The feeling of power as he slammed into Roger, the sensations of that asshole clamped around him were clearer than ever – every ridge and bump of the anal cavity obvious against the soft skin of his cock.

 

They’d barely begun, but Gary knew he was already about to cum.  God, this was amazing!  He’d never felt like this before, never enjoyed a fuck so vibrant and powerful.

 

Knowing there’d be no time for Roger to get an orgasm from prostate manipulation alone before Gary came, he took pity on his lover and snuck his right hand around to grasp at his massive cock, rubbing it furiously in rhythm to his own thrusting.

 

Giving him some room between stomach and sofa to work, Roger shifted his weight, stuck his ass out further.  Gary continued to pound it, faster, faster, faster.

 

“God,” he cried between clenched teeth.  “I’m almost… there!”

 

“Do it!” Roger screeched.  “Cum in me.  Cum in my ass.  Fucking do it!”

 

And he did.  Roaring with the force of that pleasure as it erupted inside, Gary let the power out through his quivering cock, fountaining out his passion into his lover’s deep insides.

 

At the same time, hearing the shouts of triumph, feeling the explosion of semen inside him, Roger came too.  His dick was pressed right up against the fabric of the sofa’s rear, and as he ejaculated the white fluid splattered all over the red velvet covering, up onto his hard abs, shooting everywhere in the violent throes of his orgasm.

 

Gary continued to shoot himself, spurting wave after wave of his cum inside Roger – more than he had ever shot before.  Like his orgasm, he didn’t know if those jets of jizz would ever cease, but after a while they did and the tight contractions inside him stopped as well.

 

His climax was over at last but the post-coital buzz still danced over him, nearly causing his vision to wipe out as he withdrew a cock covered in churned cream from his lover’s gaping asshole.  He thought he might faint, sinking to the floor, turning to lean back against the soft couch as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

 

“Fuck me,” he panted, and saw Roger next to him in the same position, panting with his back against the rear of the sofa.

 

“Give me a few minutes to recover,” Roger said with a cheeky grin, “and I just might able to do that.”

 

They laughed together then, one naked as the day he was born, the other still with his rumpled shirt and tie all askew but half-erect cock obscenely out on display.  It was a surprisingly sexy sight, and Gary felt his own cock start to flutter again.

 

“Not now.”  He didn’t know if he was answering Roger or admonishing his own penis.

 

Both of them, as they locked eyes, saw the cum splattered all over the couch there between them, and Roger started to heave himself up with an exhausted grunt.

 

“I’d better take care of that.”

 

“Sit down,” Gary said fondly, making his way to a standing position, knees still ridiculously weak.  “You’ve taken your punishment, honey.  I can clean this mess up.”

 

And as he hunted for cleaning supplies, seeing Roger flopped against the back of the sofa – utterly spent – Gary felt a renewed sense of love for his longtime partner.

 

“Hey,” he breathed from over there by the couch.  “Real talk though.”

 

Gary’s eyebrows shot up.

 

Roger smiled weakly through his haze of pleasure.  “You’re gonna have that report on my desk in the morning, right?”

 

Just glaring back, Gary enjoyed the sound of Roger’s infectious laughter drifting through the apartment, and he knew he’d never love another man more than this.

© 2019 by CJ Douglass. Proudly created with Wix.com

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