White Collar Tales Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)
Another white collar story. Comments or story suggestions to billdrake@hotmail.com. For more of my stories, check out the Authors page of Nifty, or join my Yahoo group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/drakestories/
WARNING: The following is for adults only. It contains depiction of sexual acts between men. If this offends you or is inappropriate for you to read, go no further.
White Collar Tales #13 Executive Booty Call
It was a Thursday and the fourth day straight that I was gonna be working late. Later than the usual corporate law hours. I leaned back and surveyed the folders, three open laptops, and an empty takeout carton. The clock on my desk read 8:25. Damn. Gershon Consolidated was our biggest account, and my life for the last two weeks. If I pulled another late night tonight, I had a chance of having the weekend to myself, away from this glass and steel coffin.
My phone beeped, signalling a new message. Christ. William Gershon himself had been texting me all evening, with fifty million questions. Reluctantly I picked up my phone.
It wasn't one of Gershon's annoying questions, though. "Hey. Long time, no speak. What's up?" The name on the display, Brian K, was enough to give me instant wood. Brian Kilpatrick was a forty-something, married executive at a regional bank housed in the city. We'd been on-and-off fuck buddies for the last few years. I was guessing Kilpatrick was looking to make it on again.
Eagerly, I pounded out a response. "The usual. Working late. Good to hear from you." I leaned back and waited, massaging the angry boner that was standing like a well-trained puppy in the crotch of my suit. I thought back to how I'd first met Brian. I was running in the Barron Bank Corporate Challenge and gotten my firm to donate a record amount. Kilpatrick thanked me himself, approaching me after the race in his weekend casual attire, and giving me the firmest handshake I'd ever experienced. Six foot even, his body was neither beefy nor trim, just solid, in-shape corporate bod, you know. Enough to fill out his polo shirt and the ass of his trousers quite nicely. As he sang the praises for my efforts and my firm and gladhanded me, our eyes were speaking another conversation. That afternoon, I experienced my first Kilpatrick blowjob. If you've not had an honest-to-god executive on his knees eating your cock like a starved man, you've not lived, I'll tell ya. I was hooked.
I was staring at my phone, waiting for another message. But still nothing. Maybe I'd been too noncommittal. Or maybe Brian wasn't fishing for a lay, but just dropping a friendly hello. Not his style, I thought, but you never know. I wondered how I was gonna take care of my new horniness.
A beep. "Cool. Interested in taking a break? I'm at McDougall's"
McDougall's was a Financial District pub famous for its cigar bar in back and its single malts. Not my usual scene, but I wasn't in a choosy mood.
"Sure. Gotta wrap up some things here. Can be there in 15m." I could have been there in 5, but he didn't need to know how I eager I was for a reunion.
"Great. Whenever. Will be hanging out in the back bar."
I sat back and stroked my cock to pass the time, then stood up and buttoned my suit coat, but not before reaching in my desk for a travel tube of lubricant, which fit nicely in my inside pocket.
I found Brian sitting in complete relaxation, cigar in left hand, double scotch in his right. His face lit up when he saw me. He gestured to the empty seat next to him. "Drake, my man, good to see you. Have a seat." As I sat down, he reached over and slapped my knee. He was definitely a little buzzed. Fine with me. "Whadya have, buddy? The Macallan is out of this world. My treat."
"Honestly, a beer'll do just fine right now."
He shook his head like I was crazy, but flagged down a blonde bimbo waitress and ordered me a beer.
"So," I said after I got my drink. "What brings you out tonight?"
"Client conference. Wined and dined those fuckers like you wouldn't believe. The last ones just went back to their hotel. Thank god for early flights," he laughed.
"And Get Out of Jail Free cards," I added. Our term for the excuses Brian made to his wife to stay in the city late.
"Here! Here! To freedom!" he toasted, clinking his scotch glass against my beer.
We sipped. We couldn't take our eyes off each other. Neither of us had acknowledged the reason I was there, but expectation hung heavy. I nodded in affirmation, to ease the tension a little.
"And to letting off steam," I spoke, raising my glass again.
"I'll drink to that," he said, his deep voice a little softer and slower with the effects of the alcohol.
"Good to see you again, Drake," he said "Looking good, as usual."
"You, too, sir." The sir bit was our little private joke. I got a kick out of the mock deference, and Kilpatrick did too.
"They made you partner yet?"
"Yeah, in August."
"Thought so. Your suits are more expensive," he quipped. He reached over and ran his hand along the lapel, pausing to let his knuckle drag against the surface of my starched shirt. It felt good. I spread my legs a little and let me knee bump against his.
"Maybe one of these days I'll get 'em tailored like yours."
He leaned back and looked down at his own form. The dark pinstripe material draped perfectly along his chest and torso. I could see a sizeable hardon tenting his crotch. Brian didn't say anything, but gave me a drunk, satisfied smile.
"So... what does a partner at a top law firm do?"
"Mostly bark orders at the fuckups out of law school."
That made the man's eyes twinkle. Two things turned Brian Kilpatrick on bigtime: a big cock and a type A, take-charge personality. Fortunately, I had both.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. There's a new hire, Harvard grad, whose ass I've had to ride raw the last month. The kid can't do anything right."
Kilpatrick laughed. "Maybe I need to hire you as my right hand man. Keep Barron running in ship shape."
I shook my head. "Don't think you can afford my hourly rate."
"Really? How much am I being charged now?" The man leaned forward, pushing his thigh purposely against mine.
Yeah, I really liked Kilpatrick when he was buzzed. His button-down personality became flirty and fratty and relaxed.
I decided to return the volley. Putting my hand on his back, I leaned forward and muttered low, so no one around could hear. "Dunno. How much does a hotel room run these days?"
Brian stared at me and I wondered if I ventured too far. It was an unspoken rule we never talked about fooling around. We could rut til we were tired and sweaty, but never acknowledged it in words.
The man, however, just bit his lip and deadpanned. "Oh, that's going on the corporate account."
My turn.
Gingerly, my fingers traced a line in the small of his back, luxuriating in the feel of his suit material. "Well, then, I guess I'll be having the Macallan after all. On you."
"Sounds like a deal," he smiled, flagging down our waitress.
A few minutes later she returned.
"This shit's good," I intoned as I tasted the scotch.
Brian puffed out his cigar smoke. "Damn straight." His thighs were spread now and I got off on seeing this important man so evidently boned.
My own cock was feeling constrained in between my legs. I swirled the brown liquid in the glass, admiring the way the dark liquor clung slightly to the sides of the glass. "Just the thing after a long day."
"The life of Riley." He paused then added. "How long has it been, Drake?"
"I'm guessing we're no longer talking about scotch." My gaze not breaking now.
His neither. "No, we're not."
I shrugged. "What... eight months?"
He nodded. "Guess you're right. Too long."
"Yep. We shouldn't make it so long next time."
I looked at Kilpatrick. He was throwing wood in his suit all right. His eyes swept my form. I was sure he could see my own erection.
"Head out of here?" he asked.
"Was just about to suggest it."
We walked to the nearby Four Seasons. Brian went in first and checked in. Five minutes later he sent me a text with the room number and I followed. I knocked at the door and heard the toilet flush. The door opened and before me Brian stood, smiling and drunk. He pulled me in. The door had barely shut when the man's mouth pressed against mine. We kissed eagerly, hungrily.
Roughly, I pushed his body back against the doorway, running my hands up under his suit jacket, feeling the firm flesh's heat through his shirt. In response, Brian thrust his crotch up against mine, and we frotted right there against each other, feeling our pricks press against one another. One of his arms wrapped around my neck, the other was busy fumbling with my zipper.
"Ungh!" I moaned as my cock sprung free and into the warm, clammy touch of his hand.
"Goddamn big cock," he murmered. "So nice." He started a nice soft stroke.
I attacked the side of his neck with fevered kisses and reached down to grab his full butt brawn in my hands. I could feel the ass cheeks clench as he swiveled his hips and thrust into the air. This man was horned up, all right.
"On the bed," I ordered. He nodded and started back up toward the mattress. "Uh uh," I said, and gripped his shoulders. I turned him around so he was facing forward, and with a gentle shove he got the picture and fell face-down on the freshly made covers.
I pounced on top of his form, thrusting my hard exposed cock into the crack of his suited rump. With determination, I pried his hands up til they were above his head and pressed them down into the pillows. Licking his neck, I groaned. "Fuck, man, you better not wait eight fucking months til the next time."
"Oh man," was all he answered. In words that is. His butt humped back against my thrusts, tell me all I needed to know.
Removing my grip, I reached down underneath and started unbuckling his belt, undoing his trousers. Without too much fuss, I had them and his underwear shucked and his fine hairy ass exposed. I so wanted him. Instantly, my prick nudged into the heat of his crack, right next against his hole.
"Take me."
"You bet I will, sir," I growled while licking his earlobe. "Taking my boss, showing him some of his own medicine. And you'll want it, too."
I was panting heavily now, scrambling up to an upright stance and fishing out that lube. I uncapped it and squeezed a huge dollop. Fisted my rockhard cock. Then pressed in.
"Christ, Drake!" he hissed, clearly not expecting so fast an entry.
I held still, my heart beating and my cock throbbing in synchronicity. I was two-thirds the way in and ached to bury myself further, but knew I needed some restraint right then.
Finally, Kilpatrick's breathing grew steady. "OK, Drake, feed me some more."
"Yeah, boss," I said, and started a slow, careful inward thrusts. It met some internal resistance, which I countered with more pressure. The head popped through, and my heavy nuts kissed the hairy surface of his asscheeks. "Damn," I muttered.
"Big damn cock you got, Drake."
I looked down and was swept up in the view. Built, married exec, still in his suit, bent over and getting majorly fucked. It was a real rush. I pulled back and pounded in. Then again. And faster. It felt magnificent, let me tell you. Soon I was building into a steady rhythm.
"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, Drake. That's it," he encouraged. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me with your big fucking dick."
I reached down and ran my hands all along the stretched pinstripe wool covering his back. I massaged that magnificent backside and started fucking for my life."
"Yes, sir. Bossman needs this cock. Been wanting it all night, haven'tcha sir?"
"Aw, fuck!"
"Like my big hard attorney cock drilling you. Putting you in your place. Calling the shots."
"Yes. Fuck me!" His breath came more erratically with each thrust and his words were half-drowned out in the pillow.
"I'll fuck you. Punish that sorry executive ass." I don't know what possessed me, but I reached my hand down and let it rain down. A loud smack echoed in the room as my palm made contact with his exposed butt cheek.
"Ungh!" Brian cried. Some pain, but definitely pleasure.
The thought that Kilpatrick was getting off on getting spanked drove me friggin' wild. I started wailing on his ass while I fucked and fucked hard. A few more strokes and this corporate stud was wailing in an orgasmic cry as his whole body shook beneath me. That was my cue. I gripped the buttflesh in my talons and fucked a sprint straight to my nut. Twenty strokes even and I was cumming. My cry got caught in my throat but my sperm shot straight into this married fuck's rectum.
I caught my breath then pulled out and rested on my haunches. Brian came to as well and pulled up his trousers and padded his way to the bathroom. I wiped off with a couple of kleenexes and stuffed my cock back in, zipping up. Straightening my tie, I walked across the room and saw Kilpatrick standing in front of a mirror, washing his beautiful, deep crack with a washcloth.
"Damn, Drake, you left me real wet," he said, looking up at me.
"I think we both needed that."
Brian tossed the cloth down and pulled his boxers and trousers up. Tucking in, he got himself presentable again. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess we did."
I opened the door, giving this handsome, powerful man one last look. "Kilpatrick. Don't wait so long next time, will ya?"
He looked at his reflection while he readjusted his tie and straightened out the front of his shirt. "I won't," he answered quietly.
I was almost out the door when I heard, "Drake....?"
I popped my head back in. "Yeah."
He was looking at me now. Those green-grey eyes twinkled, like before we fucked. "Thanks. For the spanking, I mean. I didn't know I'd get off on that."
"Me either, Kilpatrick," I said, then let the door shut behind me. I checked my phone. We'd not been in that hotel room even ten minutes.
I had a few "emergency" questions from Gershon to answer, but my good mood could not be broken. I whistled all the way out the door of that hotel.