Tommy Getting Sun Set Views
I saw Tommy this morning. We met up in the street. He's good, enjoying life with Angelo.
He came over and told me a story, he said he couldn't tell anyone else but me and that he had to tell someone.
Tommy is doing some sort of work at a law firm, it is something Tommy's father organised, you know, to get ahead of the game. Tommy's dad pulled in some favour and there he is, getting experience at a corporate law firm on the two days he has off from uni. So, he is pretty busy.
He's got a supervising partner, John Smith, everyone calls him J for short. He's the youngest partner, whizz kid, dashing and handsome, thirty eight year old, married with three daughters and he has taken a keen interest in Tommy, wants to help him personally with his career, nothing is too much trouble.
John took Tommy down to his beach house at Flinders to work on a difficult matter that he was sure that Tommy would be interested in.
Tommy had always got the feeling that John was flirting with him, and he was strangely attracted to John because of it. The juxtaposed feeling of being at work and in work mode, to having someone subtly keep bringing it back to something personal, at the very least, was mesmerizing to Tommy. For the first time, it made him feel young and vulnerable, to John's grown up manliness.
Tommy thought it was probably all in his own head and that he shouldn't let the brig lights of the corporate world dazzle him quite so much.
John's wife is some high flying corporate whatever and is currently in London doing something or other. Their nanny was taking care of the girls.
They drove down in John's Maserati, Tommy said that he couldn't help but be a little bit impressed.
The beach house was lovely, some of the best views in the district. John cooked, also a cordon bleu chef, so it would seem. (a concert pianist, a triathlete and speaks multiple languages... the two of them speak to each other in Italian) And a wine connoisseur, they drank red over dinner.
John lit the open fire and changed into track pants and a t-shirt and encouraged Tommy to do the same, which he did.
"We might as well be comfortable," said John.
Then got the work out and worked for some hours, sitting next to each other on one of the three seater couches, papers spread across the over sized coffee table. They spoke pretty much about work, the one question John did ask was if Tommy had a girlfriend.
"No, no girlfriend."
John stopped and looked at Tommy, as though he was surprised. "What, a handsome boy like you?"
"Nuh."
John rubbed Tommy's leg several times, seemingly accidentally, seemingly as he past documents to Tommy, but it had been how many times? Tommy was beginning to like it... feel horny.
Watching John's handsome face speak authoritatively about matters that Tommy had only just touched on in theory was mesmerising.
John kept their wine glasses topped up, so they both got a bit drunk.
Then John said he was feeling a little tired and told Tommy that he might have something to pep them both up?
"Really," thought Tommy. I sure hope it isn't bourbon, as that will only put me to sleep.
"Yes," said John. "Are you willing to give something new a go?"
"Sure." Tommy's brain buzzed. "I guess." Now he thought it was pot and that would probably put him to sleep even faster.
"What's your stance on drugs?" John asked. "What have you taken in the past?" John smiled and shrugged. "If any?" He raised his eyebrows. "Have you?"
"Oh this and that," said Tommy. He was reluctant to say, just in case he had misread the whole situation and that John was simply testing Tommy's integrity, or some such thing. John was happily married, from all accounts, with three lovely daughters and a gorgeous and successful wife.
John put his arm around Tommy. "Ah, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy." John squeezed him. "What sort of experiences are you interested in... Tommy?"
Tommy couldn't think of anything to say? His mind buzzed with so many possibilities, that they rendered him mute... almost.
He shrugged
"Oh." John got up. "That isn't fair." He laughed and guzzled from his wine glass, he was a bit pissed by then.
Tommy couldn't help but feel John was staring at him intently.
"I think we have done enough work, how about a little fun. That pep up. And if we feel like doing more work afterwards, well and good, or we may feel like doing something else? What do you say?"
"Sure," said Tommy. "Sounds good."
"I know what I feel like doing." John caught Tommy's gaze and held it. Tommy felt a shiver run from the back of his neck straight to his cock.
"I'm up for anything," said Tommy. That was supposed to come out carefree and breezy, giving the impression of being laid back, but it came out and his voice croaked and it sounded husky and sexy, as though Tommy's libido had got caught in his throat exposing his true thoughts there out in front of the two of them.
John smiled. "So, what drugs have you done?" His demeanour changed so dramatically from lecherous to authoritative, and he asked so directly in his best inquisitional voice that Tommy just blurted out the answer without thinking.
"E's, coke, meth, speed, pot."
"Ah, good. You smoked a pipe before?"
"Yes," said Tommy. He didn't bother to qualify it, they both knew what they were talking about now.
John grabbed his briefcase and pulled from it a roll of thick, black material. He rolled the material out over the matter to reveal an old cigar tin inside which was a glass pipe. He reached into his brief case again and pulled out a number of small plastic bags containing white substance, all held together with a thick red rubber band.
“Have you done this before?”
“Yes,” said Tommy.
“Good then.” John caught Tommy’s eye and smiled. “Then you know what you are up for.”
“Sure,” said Tommy as breezily and matter-of-factly as you like. Secretly, his cock went hard at the thought of what he’d like to be up for with John. Then he wondered if he had been too blasé and he smiled at the thought and blurted out. “I’m up for anything.”
John smiled, holding Tommy’s gaze just for a bit longer, then he looked back down at the coffee table.
Also in the cigar tin was a lighter and a small silver scoop. John undid the bags, opened one, scooped out some of the white crystals and dropped them into the end of the glass pipe. He offered it to Tommy.
“You first, I’ll be... hard behind you. I get good millage for my smoke. Here.”
John was flirting with Tommy, he was becoming increasingly convinced of it. He took the pipe in his mouth, John lit the lighter. “I’ll tell you when.”
Tommy could see the crystals burn and then start to smoke. John said when just as Tommy started to suck.
“Intuitive about when to suck, I like that in a boy.”
Tommy laughed and some of the white vapour escaped from his mouth.
“Sorry,” said John. “Try and hold it as long as you can.
They took turns at the glass pipe, the crystals burning and melting and smoking in a stream of white vapour was mesmerizing to Tommy. They smoked quite a lot, before John said stop.
Tommy could feel it in his bones, his thighs and arms. They shivered a bit, exquisitely. His hands were cold. He could feel it in his neck and jaw. It vibrated down his spine. He was shaking, and all the cells in his body were turning, and he felt amazing.
He looked over at John, who was flushed in the face and droopy-eyed but all of his features seemed pulled tight, somehow. He looked hot. He smiled. His t-shirt was tight across his pecs and his track pants seemd to gather in a big bulge at the front.
Tommy could feel a consuming hunger to do things, experience things, be touched, if he was truthful.
“How do you feel,” said John.
"Good. Hot. Nice," said Tommy. "You?"
"I feel great," said John. He put his hand on Tommy's thigh and squeezed... deliberatly, this time. There was no mistaking John's intention now. He didn't move his hand away as if it was a mistake, he kept massaging Tommy's leg, the hard muscles in his thigh.
"Do you run?"
"Yes, I do."
"I can tell." John's hand felt upwards along Tommy's leg. "Nice."
Tommy looked down at John's hand on his leg, then looked up at John. He tried to ask something, he wasn't really sure what he was asking. "You're married... with kids?"
“I had daughters, when I’d have really liked a son, Tommy. I was always a bit disappointed. The rough and tumble of a boy, someone who was of equal strength as me.” He smiled. “Someone to mess about with?”
“I’ve only got a brother,” said Tommy. “He’s great, I love him.”
“I have a brother, but it was always a son I wanted. I missed that personal masculine space that two men occupy.”
“The space of men?” Tommy said.
“I think I have always been looking for that, you know.”
“Oh, really?”
“Someone to take that place.” He smiled again. “Play that role, even.”
“Play that role?” The guy wants to play some father son fantasy, thought Tommy.
“Yeah, Tommy,” said John. “Are you interested?”
John packed the pipe again and handed it to Tommy. “Son,” John said.
Tommy was freaked out a bit, didn’t know what to say. He smiled. He took the pipe and sucked in the white smoke.
"You Italian, Tommy?" John asked.
"Yes," said Tommy as white smoke seeped from his mouth,
"Is it true what they say about Italian boys?"
"What?"
"Don't play dumb, boy."
"Huh?"
"Stand up."
Tommy stood up.
John pulled Tommy's track pants down, so that Tommy was standing there in front of John in his jocks.
John bought his hand up and took hold of Tommy's cock through the thin cotton material. He squeezed Tommy's shaft.
Then he pulled Tommy's jocks down. Tommy said he'd never felt so naked and so turned on.
"See, beautiful... you Italian boys."
John lent forward and took Tommy's cock in his mouth. Tommy said he'd never felt a warmer mouth. John massaged Tommy's big balls as he sucked Tommy's cock up hard. Tommy said the meth had kept him soft up until then, but the combination of the ball massage and the warm mouth and the dirty thrill of having his boss suck him off, made his cock pump up with blood pretty quickly.
John slid down his own track pants and his jocks to reveal a thick, hard cock. "Put it in your mouth."
As Tommy knelt and sucked John's hard cock, John slid his hand down Tommy's back and fingered his arsehole.
"I've always admired your arse in your suit pants."
John's cock filled Tommy's mouth and he couldn't answer.
"Turn around... so I can get a good look."
John lent Tommy over the back of the couch and rubbed his hard rod up Tommy's crack, as Tommy gazed out at the remnants of the sunset views.
John spread Tommy's arse cheeks and licked Tommy's hole.
John gave Tommy amyl to sniff. He unscrewed the cap, as he felt John's wet with lube hand rub between his arse cheeks. His head spun with the amyl.
"You want it, boy?"
Tommy did. He felt slutty, he felt like a whore. "Yes, yes I do." He wanted to be that cliche. "Fuck me."
Tommy's arse stretched wide and he gasped for breath, as his boss slid his big, hard cock into him.
"You're nice and tight boy, I like that."
"Oh..."
"Really nice," John murrmed.
"Fuck me," said Tommy. He wanted to be fucked, he wanted to be fucked hard.
John worked Tommy's arse hard, pushing himself deep into Tommy and then pulling all the way out, before plunging into him hard again.
I've never been fucked like that before, said Tommy. Not fucked hard by a man, using my hole to get his own pleasure. I think I got my brain fucked out.
He came over and told me a story, he said he couldn't tell anyone else but me and that he had to tell someone.
Tommy is doing some sort of work at a law firm, it is something Tommy's father organised, you know, to get ahead of the game. Tommy's dad pulled in some favour and there he is, getting experience at a corporate law firm on the two days he has off from uni. So, he is pretty busy.
He's got a supervising partner, John Smith, everyone calls him J for short. He's the youngest partner, whizz kid, dashing and handsome, thirty eight year old, married with three daughters and he has taken a keen interest in Tommy, wants to help him personally with his career, nothing is too much trouble.
John took Tommy down to his beach house at Flinders to work on a difficult matter that he was sure that Tommy would be interested in.
Tommy had always got the feeling that John was flirting with him, and he was strangely attracted to John because of it. The juxtaposed feeling of being at work and in work mode, to having someone subtly keep bringing it back to something personal, at the very least, was mesmerizing to Tommy. For the first time, it made him feel young and vulnerable, to John's grown up manliness.
Tommy thought it was probably all in his own head and that he shouldn't let the brig lights of the corporate world dazzle him quite so much.
John's wife is some high flying corporate whatever and is currently in London doing something or other. Their nanny was taking care of the girls.
They drove down in John's Maserati, Tommy said that he couldn't help but be a little bit impressed.
The beach house was lovely, some of the best views in the district. John cooked, also a cordon bleu chef, so it would seem. (a concert pianist, a triathlete and speaks multiple languages... the two of them speak to each other in Italian) And a wine connoisseur, they drank red over dinner.
John lit the open fire and changed into track pants and a t-shirt and encouraged Tommy to do the same, which he did.
"We might as well be comfortable," said John.
Then got the work out and worked for some hours, sitting next to each other on one of the three seater couches, papers spread across the over sized coffee table. They spoke pretty much about work, the one question John did ask was if Tommy had a girlfriend.
"No, no girlfriend."
John stopped and looked at Tommy, as though he was surprised. "What, a handsome boy like you?"
"Nuh."
John rubbed Tommy's leg several times, seemingly accidentally, seemingly as he past documents to Tommy, but it had been how many times? Tommy was beginning to like it... feel horny.
Watching John's handsome face speak authoritatively about matters that Tommy had only just touched on in theory was mesmerising.
John kept their wine glasses topped up, so they both got a bit drunk.
Then John said he was feeling a little tired and told Tommy that he might have something to pep them both up?
"Really," thought Tommy. I sure hope it isn't bourbon, as that will only put me to sleep.
"Yes," said John. "Are you willing to give something new a go?"
"Sure." Tommy's brain buzzed. "I guess." Now he thought it was pot and that would probably put him to sleep even faster.
"What's your stance on drugs?" John asked. "What have you taken in the past?" John smiled and shrugged. "If any?" He raised his eyebrows. "Have you?"
"Oh this and that," said Tommy. He was reluctant to say, just in case he had misread the whole situation and that John was simply testing Tommy's integrity, or some such thing. John was happily married, from all accounts, with three lovely daughters and a gorgeous and successful wife.
John put his arm around Tommy. "Ah, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy." John squeezed him. "What sort of experiences are you interested in... Tommy?"
Tommy couldn't think of anything to say? His mind buzzed with so many possibilities, that they rendered him mute... almost.
He shrugged
"Oh." John got up. "That isn't fair." He laughed and guzzled from his wine glass, he was a bit pissed by then.
Tommy couldn't help but feel John was staring at him intently.
"I think we have done enough work, how about a little fun. That pep up. And if we feel like doing more work afterwards, well and good, or we may feel like doing something else? What do you say?"
"Sure," said Tommy. "Sounds good."
"I know what I feel like doing." John caught Tommy's gaze and held it. Tommy felt a shiver run from the back of his neck straight to his cock.
"I'm up for anything," said Tommy. That was supposed to come out carefree and breezy, giving the impression of being laid back, but it came out and his voice croaked and it sounded husky and sexy, as though Tommy's libido had got caught in his throat exposing his true thoughts there out in front of the two of them.
John smiled. "So, what drugs have you done?" His demeanour changed so dramatically from lecherous to authoritative, and he asked so directly in his best inquisitional voice that Tommy just blurted out the answer without thinking.
"E's, coke, meth, speed, pot."
"Ah, good. You smoked a pipe before?"
"Yes," said Tommy. He didn't bother to qualify it, they both knew what they were talking about now.
John grabbed his briefcase and pulled from it a roll of thick, black material. He rolled the material out over the matter to reveal an old cigar tin inside which was a glass pipe. He reached into his brief case again and pulled out a number of small plastic bags containing white substance, all held together with a thick red rubber band.
“Have you done this before?”
“Yes,” said Tommy.
“Good then.” John caught Tommy’s eye and smiled. “Then you know what you are up for.”
“Sure,” said Tommy as breezily and matter-of-factly as you like. Secretly, his cock went hard at the thought of what he’d like to be up for with John. Then he wondered if he had been too blasé and he smiled at the thought and blurted out. “I’m up for anything.”
John smiled, holding Tommy’s gaze just for a bit longer, then he looked back down at the coffee table.
Also in the cigar tin was a lighter and a small silver scoop. John undid the bags, opened one, scooped out some of the white crystals and dropped them into the end of the glass pipe. He offered it to Tommy.
“You first, I’ll be... hard behind you. I get good millage for my smoke. Here.”
John was flirting with Tommy, he was becoming increasingly convinced of it. He took the pipe in his mouth, John lit the lighter. “I’ll tell you when.”
Tommy could see the crystals burn and then start to smoke. John said when just as Tommy started to suck.
“Intuitive about when to suck, I like that in a boy.”
Tommy laughed and some of the white vapour escaped from his mouth.
“Sorry,” said John. “Try and hold it as long as you can.
They took turns at the glass pipe, the crystals burning and melting and smoking in a stream of white vapour was mesmerizing to Tommy. They smoked quite a lot, before John said stop.
Tommy could feel it in his bones, his thighs and arms. They shivered a bit, exquisitely. His hands were cold. He could feel it in his neck and jaw. It vibrated down his spine. He was shaking, and all the cells in his body were turning, and he felt amazing.
He looked over at John, who was flushed in the face and droopy-eyed but all of his features seemed pulled tight, somehow. He looked hot. He smiled. His t-shirt was tight across his pecs and his track pants seemd to gather in a big bulge at the front.
Tommy could feel a consuming hunger to do things, experience things, be touched, if he was truthful.
“How do you feel,” said John.
"Good. Hot. Nice," said Tommy. "You?"
"I feel great," said John. He put his hand on Tommy's thigh and squeezed... deliberatly, this time. There was no mistaking John's intention now. He didn't move his hand away as if it was a mistake, he kept massaging Tommy's leg, the hard muscles in his thigh.
"Do you run?"
"Yes, I do."
"I can tell." John's hand felt upwards along Tommy's leg. "Nice."
Tommy looked down at John's hand on his leg, then looked up at John. He tried to ask something, he wasn't really sure what he was asking. "You're married... with kids?"
“I had daughters, when I’d have really liked a son, Tommy. I was always a bit disappointed. The rough and tumble of a boy, someone who was of equal strength as me.” He smiled. “Someone to mess about with?”
“I’ve only got a brother,” said Tommy. “He’s great, I love him.”
“I have a brother, but it was always a son I wanted. I missed that personal masculine space that two men occupy.”
“The space of men?” Tommy said.
“I think I have always been looking for that, you know.”
“Oh, really?”
“Someone to take that place.” He smiled again. “Play that role, even.”
“Play that role?” The guy wants to play some father son fantasy, thought Tommy.
“Yeah, Tommy,” said John. “Are you interested?”
John packed the pipe again and handed it to Tommy. “Son,” John said.
Tommy was freaked out a bit, didn’t know what to say. He smiled. He took the pipe and sucked in the white smoke.
"You Italian, Tommy?" John asked.
"Yes," said Tommy as white smoke seeped from his mouth,
"Is it true what they say about Italian boys?"
"What?"
"Don't play dumb, boy."
"Huh?"
"Stand up."
Tommy stood up.
John pulled Tommy's track pants down, so that Tommy was standing there in front of John in his jocks.
John bought his hand up and took hold of Tommy's cock through the thin cotton material. He squeezed Tommy's shaft.
Then he pulled Tommy's jocks down. Tommy said he'd never felt so naked and so turned on.
"See, beautiful... you Italian boys."
John lent forward and took Tommy's cock in his mouth. Tommy said he'd never felt a warmer mouth. John massaged Tommy's big balls as he sucked Tommy's cock up hard. Tommy said the meth had kept him soft up until then, but the combination of the ball massage and the warm mouth and the dirty thrill of having his boss suck him off, made his cock pump up with blood pretty quickly.
John slid down his own track pants and his jocks to reveal a thick, hard cock. "Put it in your mouth."
As Tommy knelt and sucked John's hard cock, John slid his hand down Tommy's back and fingered his arsehole.
"I've always admired your arse in your suit pants."
John's cock filled Tommy's mouth and he couldn't answer.
"Turn around... so I can get a good look."
John lent Tommy over the back of the couch and rubbed his hard rod up Tommy's crack, as Tommy gazed out at the remnants of the sunset views.
John spread Tommy's arse cheeks and licked Tommy's hole.
John gave Tommy amyl to sniff. He unscrewed the cap, as he felt John's wet with lube hand rub between his arse cheeks. His head spun with the amyl.
"You want it, boy?"
Tommy did. He felt slutty, he felt like a whore. "Yes, yes I do." He wanted to be that cliche. "Fuck me."
Tommy's arse stretched wide and he gasped for breath, as his boss slid his big, hard cock into him.
"You're nice and tight boy, I like that."
"Oh..."
"Really nice," John murrmed.
"Fuck me," said Tommy. He wanted to be fucked, he wanted to be fucked hard.
John worked Tommy's arse hard, pushing himself deep into Tommy and then pulling all the way out, before plunging into him hard again.
I've never been fucked like that before, said Tommy. Not fucked hard by a man, using my hole to get his own pleasure. I think I got my brain fucked out.
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