My Boss Steve 2
Chapter 2
This is part 2 of the story about my boss. It's based on a real character who I've been chatting to after he read one of my other yarns. I hope you enjoy it and if you haven't already read part 1, I suggest you read that first, though that's not vital.
I'd love to hear what you think of the tale: my email berks4326@aol.com
The story is fiction and is not intended to imply anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any personal knowledge about their private lives.
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Steve woke early the next morning, realising as he slowly surfaced that he was at the world famous Queens Club tennis complex to represent the British army, in the next bed to the faintly snoring Czech soldier and wondered what the day would bring. He thought hard about the way he had felt intimidated by the world famous Swiss tennis champion Federer the previous day and resented the way he had been made to feel. He was a highly respected soldier in her majesty's army and was well on the way in his training to be a leader of men. He had never had a problem getting men to respect him. They liked him. He often felt too, that his height, impressive physique and the fact he had the most generously proportioned cock of any man he'd met, gave him his confidence. No, he wasn't going to let Roger fucking Federer dominate and intimidate him further, he'd just use his help to hone his tennis skills.
After a quick breakfast on his own, Steve hurried back to his shared room to change into his white tennis shorts and top. The big Czech was in the shower, singing loudly in his own language.
At nine o'clock, Steve walked the couple of hundred metres to the courts. Federer was already there, his usual stern expression on his face. He looked at his watch, then at Steve.
"Good morning Steven. I was waiting for you."
For pity's sake,' Steve thought, is he meaning I'm late? It's not even one minute after nine. Great damn start if I'm not going to let this man make me feel inferior.' He raised himself to his full 6'2" and felt a little more confident. "Good morning Mr Federer," he responded, "and thank you."
The number two seed, was really helpful as it turned out. They spent a couple of hours hitting balls to each other, Federer coaching him and giving him many useful tips on how to improve his technique. The Swiss man clearly had an immense amount of stamina and had made him work hard. He was glad when it was suggested they take a break.
They sat together in the warm early sunshine and quenched their thirsts with cups of water from the drinking fountain. Federer made a few comments on Steve's backhand and also his stance, then moved closer. "I think there are still things you need to say."
"What?" Steve was unsure what he'd meant.
"I know there are many more things you need to, as you English say, 'get off your chests'." he said quietly, getting the saying a little wrong. "My dear Steven. I am trying to help you, you know. We are both healthy, fit male human beings. We are like any other male animal; our testicles continuously produce our sperm; our seed, and we are programmed to implant it; to release it into another body. If there are no females, we are driven to find an alternative. There is nothing to be ashamed of. There is more to tell about what you and your army friend got up to, isn't there Steven. I can see in the way you play, your mind is unable to completely focus, so tell me and free yourself."
Steve felt himself get hotter, his face reddening as he looked into the man's small, but clear and piercing brown eyes that were staring into his. It was a convincing argument, though Steve wasn't sure he really bought it. "I, er, we, um..."
"You fucked, didn't you. It's obvious. Now tell me how it happened Steven."
"I kind of got talked into it," Steve mumbled, "
He outlined the events sketchily to the champ in front of him, giving as little detail as he thought he could get away with, but Steve remembered every part very clearly.
It started with Don telling him that it was important he `got off' more frequently; that it was unhealthy to ignore his sexual needs and that to do it frequently would increase his sex-drive and that alone would improve his luck with women as they'd sense it.
After that first time when Don had sucked him off in the bathroom, his face still covered in shaving foam, it had happened fairly often. He knew it wasn't right, but it felt good and Don always managed to talk him into it. Wanking themselves in the dark now seemed OK, but then they'd get into the same bed and toss each other, sometimes Don licking his balls while sliding Steve's foreskin up and down. This progressed to Don taking quite a lot of Steve's inches in his mouth, Don's mouth working its magic clamped on his swollen prick.
Steve had felt more manly somehow, more powerful and certainly more confident in his sexuality to know that this man thought enough of him to want to help, was prepared to do even this and was willing to swallow his load night after night. Often in their morning showers, Don would give him a soapy hand job too, "in order to keep his sex drive up". It seemed to work as he was often getting awkward erections for no reason at embarrassing times during the day and always woke up with a stonking great hard-on every morning. He'd mostly stopped wearing loose boxers which did nothing to hide his considerable size when hard, though he still had one pair. He now nearly always wore briefs which at least kept things in check, even if they exaggerated the swollen bulge.
Don had persuaded him that it would be useful to see how he could use his own mouth and tongue and had got his dick out. Steve was of course, reluctant, but felt it was only fair really and might be OK. Don said it was nice, but he needed to do better when he was licking a girl. He said he'd `help him practice'. Steve hadn't really liked doing that and it had only happened a couple of times.
"Come on Steven. It's Important you speak about it," the thick-set hairy Swiss man reminded him of his question. "Tell me what happened."
Steve hadn't meant to divulge all the details, but he found that once he began, the story just flowed out of him.
It had happened on the day of a special presentation to one of the high-ups. A few of the trainee officers had been asked to attend in their parade uniforms. He and Don had got ready for the ten o'clock gathering but just as it was time to leave their shared accommodation for the parade ground, Don had asked what underwear he had on.
"What? My old boxers, they were the only ones clean, why?"
"Do they have buttons on the fly?"
"Yes, three. Why the hell do you want to know that?"
"Let me show you something mate," Don had yet to fasten his own trousers and to Steve's surprise, pulled his dick and bollocks over the waistband so they stuck out, resting on the wide elastic.
"What are you doing Don? You're nuts."
"It's just a bit of fun. I'll show you. Can't do the same with yours though, can we; it's too fuckin' big" With that, he undid the buttons on Steve's boxer fly and, in one quick movement, pulled his cock and balls out, then refastened the lower two buttons so Steve's tackle rested on the cotton above the second fastening and stuck out. He pulled up Steve's close fitting trousers, tucking his meat and two veg down inside.
"Fuck, Don. I can't be seen like this. Everyone will stare."
"No one will notice. I can hardly see anything and it'll feel nice. Right, let's go," he'd said
Steve had no time to argue as they had to be on the parade ground. He felt the fabric brushing against his knob as he walked and looked down. Despite what Don had promised, his dick stuck out, making an obscene bulge in his tight parade uniform trousers. He leant forwards a bit more, pushing his bum backwards in order to hide the large lump in front but knew, standing to attention at the parade, would mean the embarrassing bulge would be on full show.
The ceremony only lasted about twenty minutes, but Steve was hugely embarrassed to see the eyes of many of the seated attendees darting down to look at his absurdly prominent crotch, girls and women, but also some of the men. When it was over, he was alarmed to see not only a small group of girls with an obviously gay male friend heading directly his way, but also a couple of teenage lads looking him up and down as they walked towards him. He quickly walked over to tell Don he was heading back, but just as he approached, one of the officer's wives moved in front of Don.
She stood coyly and Steve heard her flirting; "You're very tall," she said, then glancing down at the pronounced bulge between his thighs, continued," is er, everything in proportion?" He saw Don move closer to the woman.
"No madam," if it was, I'd be nine foot three."
The woman turned slightly and put her hand over her mouth, "You're very naughty." "You're right. I am very naughty." Don growled breathily.
Steve saw her face redden as she turned a little more and spotted him standing behind her. She looked into his face and smiled sheepishly, then her eyes darted down to his own crotch and Steve knew she'd be able to see the pronounced outline of his long, thick penis and even the shape of his bell-end. Steve felt his face colour and it was hard to know who's was redder, as the woman blushed deeper, then scuttled off as fast as her stilettos would let her teeter.
How did he do that; always find the right thing to say to women, Steve wondered. Despite what Don had said to that awful woman, Steve was taller than Don and a lot more well hung. He turned and walked back towards his room, desperate to get away from this embarrassing situation.
He couldn't help himself thinking about the woman and imagining watching Don fucking her and making her squeal as he had the girl behind the club, then imagining himself taking over and hearing her yell as he slid his much bigger dick into her. As he walked, the movement massaged his prick, rubbing and squeezing it sandwiched as it was between his thigh and the strong fabric of his smart, tight-fitting uniform trousers. By the time he was inside the small open plan accommodation that was his home on the camp, his dick was at more than half-mast.
"I'll kill him," Steve remembered thinking of Don who had caused all this and allowed the large group of people still just outside, to see clearly everything that he had. He slid his jacket off, took off his tie and undid his shirt buttons, pulling it out of the waistband of his pants. The door opened, and Don followed him in.
"You bastard," Steve yelled. "I'll never live this down. Everyone was staring. Christ, I was about to get propositioned by a group of girls, and a couple of boys too!".
The other man just looked at him and remained silent for a while before saying, "Good eh?"
"What the fuck do you mean by that?" he'd answered furiously, moving close and towering threateningly over the shorter man.
"Come on man, you have a lot to be proud of, you look magnificent. You really are hot stuff. You should show it off more often. Hell, I would!"
Don moved closer, standing directly in front of him.
Steve looked down and saw the lump in Don's fly looking fuller than ever and he knew that behind the clothing, his balls were still supported by the wide elastic waist of his briefs. Still angry, he looked back up into the man's eyes and felt hands on his hips pulling him closer. Don pressed his knob against Steve's and slowly moved from side to side.
It felt nice, Steve remembered, very nice, but even nicer when he placed his hands firmly onto his mate's bum and pulled them closer together, pressing both swollen pricks tightly against each other. He realised how horny the recent craziness had got him and started almost involuntarily humping against his room mate.
But this wasn't right Steve knew, and remembered his anger at the man.
He pushed Don hard backwards, almost making him fall, "Get away from me, you bastard. You made a complete fool of me out there. You bloody well knew. Did you just think it would be a bit of fun making me look stupid? Eh? Eh?" he said, pushing him further into their shared room. He felt more angry than he ever remembered being.
"That's it, man. Get angry. I've never seen you this cross, Mr cool!"
Steve had a reputation for staying calm under pressure and rarely raised his voice, but he was yelling now, incensed by the way Don kept on as if he'd done nothing wrong.
"You're fucking sick, wandering out on parade with your tackle sticking out like that in front of you and worse, tricking me to do the same. I'm so mad at you." Steve really wanted to punch him hard in the face; flatten the little bugger's nose and make him suffer, but if he did, he knew that if Don wanted to, he could put an end to his career in the Army. He pushed him hard again, his face red, the veins there prominent and pulsing.
Don fell backwards on the bed." Yes, yes, get mad Steve, show me your anger; show me your passion."
He really saw red now. He was angry and he was horny. He was angry that he was horny. Now he was no longer able to think clearly. He roughly undid the belt around Don's waist and, ripping open his fly, pulled the man's smart parade trousers, together with his underwear down below his knees. He undid his own fly and pulled his now fully hard dick out.
"Fuck yeah. This is better mate," Don said smirking, almost proudly.
"You little shit," Steve responded and pushed the prostrate man's legs so they were up in the air, knees bent and clothing binding his lower legs together as they settled on his calves. Steve looked down, and pulling the cheeks apart, saw the tiny spot of wrinkles that was Don's arse-hole. He wanted to teach the little shit a lesson; show him who was boss, but would his big cock really get in that small opening? He no longer cared, but just put the large spongy head of his knob against it and pushed hard. Nothing happened; he was unable to push in further.
"Jesus Steve, I don't think you're going to be able to get......."
"Shut the fuck up," Steve stopped him and reaching over to the nearby bedside table, where he'd seen some moisturising cream in a pump dispenser bottle, squirted some into his palm and smeared the slippery lotion over his knob. He pushed again and felt just the very tip parting the opening a tiny amount. Nothing was going to stop him now. He was angry with the man beneath him to the point of near madness.
"You deserve this you bastard and you're fucking well going to get it." He moved the tip in and out of the still tightly closed muscle and was sure he was moving in further, even if only a centimetre with each push.
Don was gasping now and thrashing about on the bed. "I think you're too....," he began again.
"I told you to shut up," Steve leant further over and grabbing Don's arms, held them hard against the bed above his head. His forward movement forced his cock past the resisting hole with a rush.
".... Big," Don finished his sentence with a scream. "Ow, Ow, Ow, fuck Steve that's fucking massive; Jesus."
Steve didn't hear the words, just a vague noise coming from the gasping man's face. He pounded now, all the way in hard, over and over, not caring how the other man felt; getting faster, then holding his final thrust deep and feeling the stored up sexual tension, frustration and his anger pumping into the man he was dominating, along with his seed-saturated juices.
As his breathing slowed and his anger abated, Steve rolled off his room-mate, pulling his still hard cock out and lay on the bed next to him panting. He forced himself to look at the face next to his and realised what he'd done. What could he say? This guy said he was trying to help him, he was his friend. The temper that he worked so hard to keep under control had let him down.
"I'm sorry Don. I hurt you didn't I."
"It was a bit of a shock mate," Don's expression was still surprisingly friendly. "You really need to be careful with that dong of yours; frankly, it's dangerous." He moved awkwardly. "I think it's time to give you a few tips on how you use that thing."
The two men were still for a while, resting as they slowly recovered.