Disclaimers: This work is a work of fiction and is my property.
The story and characters are fictitious and any resemblance to anyone or any actual event is coincidental. There are three distinctly different main characters that will appear as the story progresses.
You should be legally allowed to read this type of material before continuing.
As it is based on an actual book, I had published a few years ago -- free for your enjoyment -- the story will not contain explicit material in all the chapters BUT don't fret, as it is more the exception than the rule.
Note that in one chapter to come, there will be a sexually violent scenario. If this will trigger any trauma for you, please be aware of it before you start reading.
Please direct any comments or feedback to my email address at davidrolsynauthor2019@gmail.com.
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CHAPTER FIVE
William Morgan
Some weeks pass and I've tried my level best to view Stephen as just another employee. It's been difficult and I've been making sure we're never alone together.
I arrived at the restaurant this afternoon to discover we had run out of lobsters last night. This wouldn't normally happen because Chef Aden is meticulous about his supply levels. We had a big group in last night, from some flashy firm, and they ate the few remaining lobsters in the tank.
It was definitely a good night.
I ask one of the waiters to accompany me to the supplier to get some more, after having called them. They weren't able to deliver on such short notice because their trucks were already out doing deliveries for the day.
Stephen steps up and says that he'll go with me.
I sigh and shrug. This isn't a good idea, but duty calls and I have no time to try and maneuver myself out of the situation. We head out to my car and drive off towards the warehouse district. Overhead, the clouds roll in thick.
"What music do you like listening to?" he asks.
"Nothing in particular. I'm a huge Katy Perry and Christina Aguilera fan, but generally I just like a good song, no matter what the genre is. There are some CDs under the seat. Have a look."
Stephen reaches down and finds my black CD case. After flipping through it, he picks one and inserts it into the car stereo.
He's chosen Justin Bieber, of all things. I laugh, a bit embarrassed. A mistake of mine from a few years ago. Ah, those were innocent times.
`Baby' starts playing and my face grows hot.
"It was a phase," I say in my defence.
In response, he sings along. Wow, he can sing.
It's amusing to hear him adjust his voice to match Justin's high pitch and I can't help but sing along. We unashamedly belt out the tunes, as if our lives depend on it, trying to emulate Justin's vocal techniques, and we end up laughing.
Stephen's fucking adorable.
We sing a few more songs together and arrive at the fishmonger's warehouse.
I select some frozen lobsters. I'm not happy with it though, but they'll just have to do. The manager promises to deliver fresh stock tomorrow.
We'll be honest and inform any customers who might order it tonight. At least there will be lobsters. I can always offer displeased customers a free drink as compensation. If none of the lobsters sell, Chef Aden will use the leftovers tomorrow in some special salad, I'm sure.
When we drive back, it starts to rain heavily.
We're listening to a local radio station. Some loudmouth DJ is doing his best to entertain his listeners. But I'm not really listening.
The mood is now more subdued. Is it the rain?
I steal a glance at his crotch then raise my eyes. Stephen is glaring at me.
My cheeks burn. I quickly look away and nothing is said.
Traffic is bad and we reach a gridlock in the road. There must be an accident or a vehicle must've broken down somewhere. I turn into the next side street and head up a steep hill.
Suddenly the car is battling to move up the hill as if being held back by a giant hand. I look in my side mirror. Smoke bellows from my rear wheels. "Fuck! What now?"
I stop the car and pull up my hand brake. Before I can do anything else, Stephen jumps out to a have a look, leaving the door wide open.
"Try now!" he yells.
I release the hand brake and shift the car into first gear. Stepping down on the accelerator, the car moves but it crawls along at a painfully slow pace.
"Stop!" He comes back to the door, drenched by the rain. "I think we need to pull over into this alley here on the left. Do you have auto-rescue?"
"Yes. I'll give them a call. What do you think it is?"
"It looks like your brakes are seizing."
Whatever that's supposed to mean. He gets in soaked to the bone and I can see his nipples and the contour of his six-pack through his white shirt. He closes the door and I focus back onto the matter at hand.
I get the number from their card in my wallet and give them a call.
They tell me it'll be a while, perhaps even more than an hour or two because of the gridlock and increased number of calls for assistance. Rain has the habit of compounding accidents and breakdowns.
I ask them to please hurry, but resign myself to a long wait ahead. Then I call Samantha and ask her to fill in for me. Who knows how long it'll be before we are rescued. She asks me if Stephen is with me and I say yes. She doesn't say anything, but I know what she's thinking.
After ending the phone call, I move the car into the alleyway and switch on the emergency lights.
"We better preserve battery power." He switches off the stereo.
I turn off the headlights and sit back. It's getting darker and the sky is covered in black-bellied clouds. This rainstorm isn't going to dissipate soon.
"So, where are you from?" he asks.
I fill him in a bit about my upbringing in the south and my short career thus far. "And yourself?"
"I grew up on a farm."
That explains his boyish charm and natural good build. He definitely doesn't have a gym body.
"I wanted to come to the city to make a name for myself. My older brother is heavily into the farm business and he'll most likely inherit the farm one day. I'll have shares in it, but he says he'll buy me out when the time comes."
"Why waitering? You could get a job at a modeling agency or something."
He grins. "No. That's not for me. I'm too private for that kind of thing and parading around in my underwear or in a swimsuit in front of cameras, isn't my idea of a good time."
I bet.
"So, what are your plans for the future? After the waitering gig, I mean."
His gorgeous eyes take on a faraway glimmer. "I want to open my own business, maybe a small Italian restaurant somewhere. I have no interest in cooking myself, but would like to create a place with a family atmosphere where lots of people will feel like they're welcome and can come to relax."
"Italian. Why? You like their food?"
"I've always had this vision of a family-style business with myself, my wife, and children running the place and being part of a small community. Like you see in some of those TV shows."
"Nice. Very Italian."
It'll be harder than he thinks, but he has the "means" to get there. With his looks and confidence, I'm sure he'll make it work.
We sit quietly for a while. Outside, darkness surrounds us. The emergency blinkers make a rhythmic clicking noise, car horns blare, brakes screech in the distance, and the heavy rain pounds the roof of the car.
He undoes his safety belt and moves his chair backwards into a more comfortable position. Adjusting the angle of the backrest, he sinks into the chair.
He has closed his eyes and I sneak another peek at his crotch. Trying to distinguish any promise of what I have been fantasizing about.
"You looking for something...?"
I jump. He's looking at me sternly.
"Um. I... Sorry."
"Look, Will. Let's be serious. I know you're into guys, but I hope you're not thinking that I'm even remotely interested."
"No. No. Nothing like that. You can't blame me for looking though. You're not exactly unattractive." I give him a sheepish grin.
He frowns. "Yes, but my face is up here. Not at my groin."
Now I'm seriously uncomfortable and pray for the auto-rescue to arrive.
"Look. What is it exactly you're hoping to see?"
His face seems softer now.
"I was trying to see what you're `packing." I might as well be blunt. To hell with the consequences. He's already caught me checking him out.
For a moment, he seems deep in thought then unzips his trousers. He reaches into his briefs and pulls out his flaccid dick. "Have a look then."
He takes his hands away and it lies there exposed, flopped to one side. It looks weighty, from the base it starts off broad and then narrows up to the tip. Does it keep that shape when it's hard?
I lick my lips. "Do you mind if I touch it?"
He looks at me with a strange expression. "Help yourself. But I don't think it will do anything for me. At least you can satisfy your own curiosity."
Man, but it's beautiful!
I take hold of it. It feels spongey as I roll it and squeeze it in my palm.
I dare to go further...
"Can I suck it?"
He stares at me. He grapples between revulsion and intrigue.
"Ok," he finally says.
I undo my seat belt and lean over towards him. My heart is pounding from excitement. This is so wrong. I ignore my trepidation and place myself in the right position for me to easily guide his limp dick into my mouth. I try and hold on to it because I don't want it to flop back down.
Sucking him gently...I swirl my tongue around and under his foreskin while flicking it over his ridge.
"Aah shit!"
I accept that as encouragement and intensify the passion.
I bob my head up and down faster. His dick swells in my mouth. It grows and swells and quickly reaches its full nine inches!
Mmm... Delicious. Much better than I imagined. His natural fresh, musky smell envelopes and inebriates me.
"Oh yes, baby!"
I'm now moaning with a mouth full of dick. His breathing grows rapid, in and out.
"That's great, Will. Don't stop."
I'm not planning to.
I give him the best head of his life and suck harder while bobbing my head up and down at a quicker pace. A headache is throbbing against my temples and the hand brake is piercing my ribs, but I don't care. I'm focused only on pleasing him completely.
He groans deeply. "Ahhh please don't stop."
I taste some of his leaking pre-cum and it's sweet. Good diet.
Immersed completely in the act, I go hell-bent for leather. My neck is killing me and the thumping in my head is getting worse. I don't want it to end but if he doesn't cum soon, I may pass out.
"I'm going to cum, Will!" he exclaims.
And before I have a chance to brace myself, he shoots thick, sweet blobs of cum down my throat. I nearly gag on it. However, I manage to stifle the reflex, stop breathing and swallow while he's still trying to shove his big dick down my throat in the process. It's really sweet, with a salty aftertaste. I can't breathe.
"Ah! Yes!!!"
I wait as long as possible for him to finish shooting down my throat and then slowly allow his dick to slip out of my mouth. Hunching over, I gasp for air and cough. I grab him again and softly stroke it a few times until he flinches. Extreme sensitivity, perhaps?
He puts it back in his pants and zips up.
"Thank you," I say.
"I should be thanking you. Sorry I can't return the favor, but it was awesome."
I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth to make sure I have no evidence of what just happened on my face.
"It's ok, Stephen." I smile.
Footsteps thud toward us from behind the car.
My own dick is rock-hard but retreats as the auto-rescue guys appear at my side of the car.
They confirm a few minutes later that my brakes are in fact the problem and offer to tow us to the nearest mechanic.
I make arrangements for someone to take us back to the restaurant and dispose of the now defrosted lobster. The rest of the night in stay in my office, not having the desire or will to take the train home.
Stephen didn't act any differently when we returned. Only once I caught him looking at me with a blank expression.
For the next few days everything continued as usual at the restaurant. Stephen and I had conversations that were work-related, but nothing more personal was discussed. It actually seemed as if both of us wanted to try and forget about what happened and just move on.
To say that I felt guilty would be putting it mildly. Having displayed a lack of self-control with an employee was very dangerous and I was nervous that I could be reported. Although Mike and Georgia knew I was gay, they never had any problem with it, well I never gave them any reason to.
Luckily, Stephen hadn't made anything out of it and I was starting to relax and tried to put it behind me.
Until today.
Samantha was off and I had the pleasure of cashing up the takings for the day. She always did it for me because she loved chatting with everyone after work and this gave her a chance to catch up on every waiter's life story. It was her way of keeping her finger on the pulse. I on the other hand preferred to keep out of the waiters' personal lives, as much as possible.
So here I'm sitting, cashing up each waiter's takings and checking it against their bills. Everyone is balancing thus far. This might be an easy night then.
Now it is Stephen's turn.
He walks into the cash-up office and locks the door behind him, as per procedure. I assume he's a little uncomfortable because he's tense in his posture, but I try and focus on the job at hand.
"Did you have a good night, Stephen?"
"Yes, thanks. I made about a hundred in tips."
"Well you're popular with the customers."
He looks hard at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Huh?
"I mean they like you."
"Is it because of my looks that you think I'm doing well?"
I take a deep breath. "No, Stephen. Please don't read anything into it. I just mean that you obviously provide good service and they reward you appropriately."
"Well. Just as long as you don't imply that it's because of my looks. I have a brain, you know. I'm not a piece of meat."
I straighten my posture and look up at him. "Stop it now. That's not what I was implying and you know it."
"If you say so."
I take his cashier bag and reconcile the bills with the cash.
Everything balances and I give him his dues. "All seems fine. I'll see you tomorrow. Please ask the next waiter to come in."
He doesn't budge. "So, you're tired of me now?"
"Ok, I'll bite. What do you want to say? Spit it out." I stand up.
"You seduced me, you know. I've been sick to my stomach remembering what we did that night. It was disgusting and it shouldn't have happened."
"Well it did and you didn't exactly say no. So, forgive yourself and move on. It doesn't mean anything anyway. We just had fun."
He straightens up to his full height and glares down at me. "It didn't mean anything?! It was just fun for you?! Let's just blow the farm boy!"
Shit, everyone can probably hear him shouting.
I put up my hands in a gesture of surrender. "Please keep quiet, Stephen and let's talk about this like adults."
"Oh, so I'm a child now, am I?!" His face turns a shade of purple.
He is obviously upset. How the hell am I supposed to calm him down? Sweat slides down my armpits. I've never been in this kind of situation before.
"Stephen, please calm down." I force my voice to be steady. Inside I am freaking out.
"Calm down! Calm down, you say? Why the fuck should I calm down?! You did this to me! I feel dirty and ashamed!" He slams his fist down on the desk. "You shouldn't have given me that blow-job! How am I going to look my family or future wife in the eye, knowing you'd done that to me?!"
"Stop it!" I say through clenched teeth.
"Why?! Because you're telling me to? Well, what kind of manager blows his employees? You molested me, man!" His eyes are blazing.
Fuck...this is getting out of control. I can hear loud voices on the other side of the door, and I'm not managing to get Stephen calmed down.
The door suddenly opens and yes, it's Mike. He's standing there, glaring at both of us. "What the fuck is going on here?"
"Ask your perverted manager." And Stephen storms out.
Mike tries to stop him, but Stephen is bigger and stronger than Mike and just brushes him aside.
"Will. What did I just hear? You blew a waiter?"
I slump down in my chair. My adrenaline is rushing through me, but the reality of what just happened hits me in my stomach. "Yes."
I wait for Mike to say something but he just stares at me. Angry disappointment twists his face. He turns around and leaves the office.
I try and compose myself and call in the next waiter.
The atmosphere is tense in the restaurant, but I manage to finish the cash-up and my other paperwork. I head home.
It'd cost me quite a few hundred, but I got my car back.
I battle to fall asleep and when I eventually do, I only sleep for about four hours. I'm woken up by my ringing cell phone. It's Georgia.
"Will, Mike and I would like to see you at 10:00 a.m. this morning. Let's meet at the coffee shop around the corner from the restaurant."
"Ok. I'll be there." As if I have a choice.
My stomach is in knots and I feel like I want to vomit. This isn't going to end well.
After a shower, I have some toast and coffee, just to get something in my stomach before I make my way to the coffee shop and arrive a half hour early.
At just about 10:00 a.m., Mike and Georgia enter the coffee shop and walk over to my table. I stand up and Mike gestures for me to sit.
Georgia starts talking almost immediately. "I heard from Mike what happened last night, and we got some statements from the other staff at the restaurant. We also went to see Stephen this morning before coming here."
Please let them just get to it. My hands are shaking and my nausea rises.
"Needless to say, this is a serious matter and we cannot condone this kind of behavior. To say we're disappointed, is an understatement. When we took you from the restaurant in the city and made you a manager, we had a lot of faith in you. We trusted you. What you've done now has put us in a difficult situation. That boy Stephen is thinking of bringing charges against you for sexual harassment. Do you realize that?"
Boy? My ass! But there it is.
"But it was consensual," I say meekly, knowing it's pathetic to even mention it.
"That's not what matters. You were in a position of authority and you abused it." Georgia says firmly.
Were.
"Therefore, Mike and I have decided to terminate your services with immediate effect. Because of your otherwise flawless time with us, we will pay you a month's salary in lieu of notice. However, you'll not go back tonight and won't be welcome in any of our restaurants at any time. Is that clear?" Georgia's stern eyes bore into me.
I want to burst into tears, but manage to compose myself as best I can. Let me at least preserve some dignity. "Yes."
"You can ask Samantha to bring the keys and other restaurant property you still may have over tonight. I'm sure she won't mind. You two have always gotten along."
"I anticipated that this might happen, so I actually brought everything with me this morning. It's in this plastic bag. Here are the keys." I hand everything over to Georgia.
She looks inside and nods.
"I'm sorry it had to end this way, Will. I hope you learn from this and that you'll never do anything like it again." And on that note, they both get up and leave.
I sit there for a while. Though I knew what was coming, it was still a shock. What am I going to do now?
I buy a bottle of water and walk to my car. Tears run down my face as I'm driving back home. This is all my fault. No one can be blamed for this except me.
What a fucking fool I am.