White Collar Tales Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com)
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.
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/
White Collar Tales #17 Getting Through B School
The worst part of business school is the whole working in teams requirement. I know, I know... team projects build group dynamics and interpersonal communication - blah blah. I guess I'm too type A for that crap. I'd rather take the charge and run with it and not have to worry about pulling the weight of some hangers on too dumb or too lazy to do the work and do it right.
Especially when I got stuck with a fuck up like Ken Freeland. Midwestern fraternity boy and thick as a brick. Couldn't do math, couldn't use a spreadsheet, couldn't understand basic concepts. The only way he got into a selective b-school was cause his daddy, a big-time regional VP and school alum, pulled some strings.
Besides being legacy, the younger Freeland did have two things going for him. He was good at sucking up: I swear I've never heard so many "Yes, sirs" and "Yes, maams" coming out of the mouth of someone. And he was easy on the eyes. Standing in a fit tennis-player's build at 6'2", tanned with dirty blond hair and green eyes and pearl-white fucking perfect teeth. I swear our middle-aged finance prof popped a boner every time Ken walked into the room.
Trouble was, I did too. I hated the bastard and swore audibly when Prof. Harris paired me with the lunkhead. But damnit if I didn't find my innate hatred of the guy paired with a strange attraction. When we worked those late-night sessions, I could feel the heat from his body just inches from mine and could smell his cologne and, well, just the aura of pure hunk. I had to call a number of breaks just so I could break the spell the guy had on me. Then there were times I had to step away just so I wouldn't punch his lights out for his utter stupidity.
After two weeks working in tandem on our case studies, it was all about to boil over. The more he slacked off or made mistakes, the angrier I got. The angrier I got, the fiercer my erections and the animal attraction I felt toward him.
Finally, one late night, after I barked at him that he was gonna have to work a little harder cause I wasn't going to do the whole fucking thing myself, he shuffled a little in his seat and gave me a furtive, slightly wounded look. His voice dropped about thirty decibels from normal and he spoke to me.
"Sorry, Dave, you know I'm not good at this shit. C'mon, can't you help me out here?"
"Why should I?!" I cried, the loudness in my voice matching the softness in his. I was steamed.
Then, plain as you'd like: "I'll suck you off."
"Excuse me?" Not believing my ears.
He shrugged his shoulders a little and his eyes looked right into my eyes. Again, that deep but soft voice. "I said I'll suck you. Not just tonight. For the rest of the semester. Whenever you want." Seeing the incredulous look in my eye, he crossed his heart with his fingers. "Scouts honor."
I worried it was some weird trap, but I looked around my living room and realized we were alone. Besides, my dick was starting to like the idea - it came raging up with a vengeance. "What do I gotta do?" My peter speaking for me.
Though I hadn't agreed to the deal, my interest made Ken break out into a beaming smile. "Just finish this project and let me share credit. You're smart, man, I know Harris is gonna give you an A."
No argument there. It dawned on me the irony that this was a business ethics class we were in. I knew the textbook answer, but I also knew that Ken Freeland was offering strings-free bjs and in my mind I pictured that tan, handsome mug pressed into my pubes. I nodded and reached down to unzip.
Freeland may have been a slacker in the classroom, but he was all business-like in his cocksucking. My sex-hungry prick plopped out and snapped rigid, and before I could take two breaths, Ken's soft, fat tongue was lapping nice swaths of man spittle up and down my stalk.
The sensations made me close my eyes they felt so great. But I opened them again just in time to see this ex-frat tennis hunk look up at me and open his mouth. He guided my cock straight into it. Fuck! Freeland had a mouth on him! My bone sank in and every inch triggered shockwaves of lust and pleasure in my body. I grabbed on to that blond-capped head. I couldn't help it. I just grabbed him and pushed past his instinctive resistance. Right straight back to the reached of his esophagus.
Ken grunted, but he took it. I speared his hot, tight throat with my dick repeatedly, driven mad by my hots of this guy and some primal desire to punish him. Taking the last three weeks out on him, I'm surprised I didn't kill the poor guy, but the stud kept up with me and soon even was undulating his throat and tongue against the length of my prick.
Boy, that tripped my trigger. My juice shot fast and hard right into his gullet. The guy coughed and sputtered but I held him tight against my crotch as I unloaded.
When I finally relaxed my grip, Ken wiggled free and took a deep breath. "Whoo buddy, you like it rough, huh?" He gave that affable grin and shrug of the shoulders. "Guess you're gonna make me earn that A."
I took advantage of Ken's promise for regular service. Of the forty-three days left in the semester, there were maybe four that the ex-frat stud wasn't chowing down on my rod. He was good, and he got better. He got to where he could get me to shoot in about two minutes, but sometimes he would edge me for a fucking hour before I blew. The fact that the guy could barely spell his name made me nut even harder.
Naturally, he didn't do a shred of work. I would read the case studies, do the research, write up the analysis, and make the presentation. At the end I would coach Ken on the results and let him do the presentation, passing it off like he was the team leader in it all. I have to admit it really got my goat seeing this dumb fuck skate by on no talent, but a deal was a deal. Besides, I was really enjoying having the guy service me. A lot.
Then, one April afternoon, as Ken entered my apartment for a quickie, he spoke up. "Dave, I got a favor to ask."
"What, buddy?" My attitude toward him had softened. Funny what getting your cock sucked nice and regular will do for anger management.
"I was wondering if you would help me with accounting. You had it last semester, right?"
I nodded, a little leery of what was coming.
"Bet you aced the class, too," he said more than asked. "Think you could help me with my project?"
I paused. "What's in it for me?" No matter how friendly I was feeling toward the lunk, I knew that class and knew doing an accounting project was a ton of work. "You already promised BJs for the semester."
"We'll keep it up in the summer," he offered.
"After you've gotten your grade. It's not that I don't trust you, bub..." I trailed off implying that I in fact couldn't trust him on a matter like this.
Ken bit his lip, pondering whether he should say what he was about to say. Then, that growly, soft voice. "You like fucking?"
My heart pounded double time. This guy knew how to push my buttons. I'd crawl through broken glass for a chance at that ass. Still, I played it cool. "You like getting fucked?"
Again, that casual shrug of the shoulders. "I'm good at it, I guess. I suck at accounting, but getting screwed's pretty easy."
"You've not been screwed by the right guy, then," I blustered, rubbing my crotch.
That made him laugh. "Are you the right guy?"
"I think I am Freeland, I think I am. One more thing I want, though, before I agree."
"Anything, Dave." Damn, this pup was eager.
"Kiss me when we fuck around."
I think my request shocked Ken. "That all?"
"Yeah, that's all, but I want a real kiss. Not a straight guy putting out peck, but a tongue sucking, saliva swapping mouthfuck. Got it?"
Ken didn't answer verbally but leaned his face forward til our mouths connected. The kiss was soft, wet, and smoldering hot. I used to think that all Freeland learned in that fraternity of his was how to drink and party, but somewhere along the line he learned some major game. And he was playing me now. Nice, probing tongue action, just teasing mine til I regained dominance and took charge of the kiss. His hands massaging my sides, working down toward my erection.
We made out and I guided us back to the bedroom, pushing Ken down on the bed and following soon. I almost thought that Freeland liked putting out for me, but a part of me could care less. I was being offered sex on a silver platter and I was gonna take it. This time I wanted to take my time. There would be plenty of opportunity for wham-bam sex, but for now I explored every inch of that beautiful toned body. The payoff came when I flipped him over and saw that magnificent ass, covered with light blond fuzz. I kneaded the muscular mounds and teased the crack with my thumb, sending a visible shiver up Ken's back. Encouraged, I nuzzled my face in between the ass melons and started lapping like a starved kitten. Freeland hiked his crack back against my munching mouth and we spent the next twenty minutes or so driving each other crazy. Fast and slow, hard and soft. A real ass-eating symphony.
Finally, I couldn't take any more. Fumbled in my bedside drawer for the lube and in my excitement squirted enough on my rod for a hundred fucks. Ken was gonna get a real wet penetration.
Apparently, that was just what the doctor ordered. My cock popped right in and, without any friction to stop it, sank straight into the tight heat of Ken's stud hole. His upper body tensed but his rectum accepted me without any major issue. The boy was primed for fucking.
And fuck I did. Pulled back and pounded in hard, but keeping the pace slow. I wanted to let him know who was in charge, though if I were honest I'd have to admit that Freeland's amazing rump was calling the shots all the way. The guy could have asked for anything at that moment and in the heat of rutting I'd have agreed.
I was paying so much attention to the effect my thrusting cock had on his prostrate body that I didn't see my own orgasm coming. It hit me all of a sudden. Blinding white light, curled toes, the whole works. Freeland got a nice heavy assload that afternoon. Spent, I collapsed on to his sinewed back, trying to catch my breath. We lay there connected, til the guy rolled out from under me and padded a path to the bathroom to clean up. To this day, I don't know if Ken shot his wad or not.
It wasn't just accounting either. The following year we kept up the same arrangement. I did basically all of Ken Freeland's course work and he was responsible for basically all of my orgasms til I finished the program.
I thought getting my MBA and moving away would be the end of our special friendship, but six years later, almost to the day, I got a call from Mr. Ken Freeland. "Dave, buddy! How's it going?"
"Ken, how ya doing?"
"Fine, Dave, fine. How are things with you?"
"Fine, fine."
"Listen, Dave... the reason I'm calling is that my fiance and I are planning to relocate to New York in the spring."
That voice by now could make me pop a bone instantly. It sure did that morning.
"Yeah?" I prompted, wondering where this was headed.
"And, well, I hear you've got a position at Grant and Peterson." The hedge fund where I worked.
"Yep. Got promoted last month," I boasted. Though I had the sneaking suspicion my b-school buddy already knew of my promotion.
"Cool. Got an office with a nice view?"
I looked out the window, where I could see Midtown in the distance. "Yep. Pretty nice." Then, catching on to the purpose of the call, I ventured, "Say Freeland, if you're looking for a job, you should apply here."
"Yeah?" The surprise in his voice clearly manufactured. Bingo.
"We can use another analyst in my unit."
"Working under you?"
I was breathing heavy now. "Yeah, you'd be reporting directly to me."
"Sound fine. But Dave..."
"Yeah, bud?"
"You know I'm not good with numbers." Understatement of the century.
"That's OK, Freeland, I'll have your back. We can find a way to use your talents."
I hoped I wasn't laying it on too thick, but Ken just beamed in excitement. "Wow, thanks man, I appreciate it."
"No problem. Just send me your resume and I'll get the ball rolling."
"Will do."
"Take it easy, bud."
"You, too, man. Talk to you later."
I know it was wrong, but for the entire conversation I stroked my cock through my trousers and the second I was off the phone I was whipping out my meat and blasting a good dose of morning cream on the underside of my desk. Then I set about pulling some strings with HR.