Adam's New Beginning Pt. 04

The next couple of days were a blur. I'm pretty sure I avoided everyone in my life, including Max. I couldn't really figure out how I felt about my situation but I think I was trying to deny an unavoidable truth: I loved the attention I was getting from Michael. It was more intimate and more sexually charged than anything I'd ever experienced before. But I was so deeply ashamed of what I was doing and who I was doing it with.

I spent most of my time with my headphones in my ears and my head down. I didn't see Michael at work and by the time Friday rolled around, I wondered if he had forgotten about his invitation. But at 2:03PM on Friday, I received an email in my work inbox.

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FROM: Michael Sawyer, Senior VP Creativer

TO: Adam Tapper, Copywriter

SUBJECT: Dinner Invitation

Hello Adam,

I'm glad you were able to accept my dinner invitation on such short notice. Please arrive around 7PM. No need to bring anything. The address is 95 Carlisle Street, Suite 5402.

Regards,

Michael

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I stared at the email and re-read it three times. This was actually happening. I closed the email and resolved not to think (or worry) about dinner until after work. Funnily enough, on the rare occasion you want the work day to slow down, it seems to zoom past you.

It seemed like I blinked and I was on the subway back home, a worried expression on my face. What was this going to be like? Was Michael really married? Would there be other people at this dinner? What was I going to wear? The anxiety and questions consumed me.

When I finally got home, I immediately hopped into the shower. I turned the knob further to the right than usual. And then a bit more. I was hoping a blast of cold water would shake me out of my thoughts. I was half-right. Shivering under the cool rain-like spray, I was too cold to think of as many questions. But one kept coming back to mind. What was I going to wear?

I slipped out of the shower, still shivering, and checked my phone. 5:57PM. I had to be out of here in 30 minutes if I was going to make it to Michael's place on time. I dried myself off quickly and wrapped my towel around my waist before heading back to my room. I opened my small closet and stared into the unorganized mess in front of me.

I shuffled through several items and grabbed a few that I thought might look good. A green checkered button-down, a maroon sweater that I only ever wore around Christmas, and a navy blue polo that might have been half a size too small. I also grabbed some slim-fitted black pants and tossed everything onto my bed. I opened my underwear and socks drawer and grabbed a pair of black socks. As I reached for some black boxer briefs, a hint of gold at the back of the drawer caught my eye. Given the lack of colour in this drawer, I knew immediately what it was. A black Versace jockstrap with a gold pattern along the waistband. It had been a gift from my ex but I had never worn it. It felt too scandalous. Which is what made it the right choice for tonight. I quickly grabbed the jockstrap before my brain had any time to argue against it.

I slipped on the socks, jockstrap, and pants before shuffling through the three tops. Each one made me look like I was going to work but the navy blue polo seemed to at least highlight my figure in flattering way. I tucked the polo into my pants and grabbed a brown belt and brown shoes. Checking my phone, it was already 6:25PM and I needed to head out. I took a quick final look at myself and nodded. This would do.

Unsure if Max was home yet, I tip-toed out of my room towards the front door. Holding my breath, I made my way slowly through the apartment. When I heard the shower start running. I breathed out a deep sigh of relief and headed out of the apartment and down towards the subway station.

In stark contrast to my earlier subway ride, this one was completely quiet. In my head at least. No thoughts. No questions. No worries. I just watched the little lights on the subway map flicker as the train passed through the city. Carlisle Street was in a very modern part of town with new high-rise office towers and condo buildings. Large living spaces with floor to ceiling windows and sweeping views of the city. It lacked the charm of the older parts of the city, but it made sense that a wealthy man like Michael would've preferred the comforts of a condo to the charm of a century-old walk-up.

When I finally made it to the right stop, I checked the time again. 6:47PM. I needed to hurry. I made my way out of the subway station and headed down the street, walking at a much faster pace than normal. One left and two rights later, I was standing in front of a tall tower of glass and steel. Across the top of the revolving door in metallic cursive letters, the words "The Carlisle". I had never stepped foot inside a building like this.

As I pushed through the revolving door, the sweet but subtle scent of lilac filled my nostrils. The marble lobby had a bit of seating on either side of the door and an imposing security desk in front of the elevator bay. I straightened up a bit to look taller as I walked to the desk. The security guard on duty was a stern-looking man in his mid-40s. His name tag simply said "Security".

"Um. Hi. I'm visiting someone. 5402?"

The guard stared up at me from his desk, slightly squinting as if to make sure I wasn't a figment of his imagination. He raised an eyebrow.

"Um, Michael Sawyer?"

"You don't sound too sure."

His response caught me off guard.

"No, I- I'm here to see him." I confirmed.

He simply grunted and handed me a guest pass.

"Use this for the elevator. Farthest one back, to your left. It's the only one that goes to the lofts."

I nodded and mumbled a slight "thank you" before stepping away from the desk. His pointed remark had renewed my anxiety. But I continued to the elevator, scanning the pass at the last one on the left. I tapped my foot impatiently as I watched the numbers descend. When the elevator finally arrived, it was empty.

I stepped inside and hit the button for 54. Nothing happened. I hit the button again but nothing changed. The elevator doors started to close and I panicked mildly before noticing another sensor. I scanned the guest pass again and hit 54. The circular button lit up in soft white light and the elevator pushed upwards. I sighed and leaned back against the mirrored wall. I was sweating from the nerves and didn't want to see myself in this state, nervous and damp.

The elevator was fairly quick and before I knew it, I was stepping out onto the 54th floor. On the far left, large wooden double doors with the numbers 5401 above them. To the right, an identical set of wooden double doors with the number 5402. I headed to my right and stopped in front of the doorway. This was it. I took in a deep breath and knocked lightly, three times.

The door opened and Michael stood before me wearing an off-white apron over a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. His salt-and-pepper hair was perfectly in place, his face in a wide smile.

"Adam!" He gestured me inside.

"Hi." I stepped past him into the apartment. "Thank you for having me..."

My sentence trailed off as I took in the apartment itself. In front of me, a large living room with floor to ceiling windows at the back and an unbelievable view of the sunset over the city. The furniture was simple, clean, and modern. To the left, I could see a large arch leading into the kitchen. To the right, a staircase leading up to the second floor with a small hallway tucked behind it.

As I stared in amazement at the lavish apartment in front of me, Michael clapped a hand gently on my back. His touch, even in such a small gesture, was electrifying.

"I'm just finishing up dinner, come I'll get you a drink."

I followed him silently to the kitchen. It smelled amazing. It seemed like Michael was making a few dishes. I strolled over to the side of the kitchen island opposite Michael, placing some distance between us.

"Red wine? White wine?" He asked, looking through a small wine cooler.

"Um. Just water, thank you." I still hadn't figured out what was going to happen tonight and didn't want to make any mistakes.

Michael nodded and poured me a glass of water from a thin jug on the island. I smiled and took a sip.

"Thank you." I said, setting the glass down. Michael smiled again before turning his attention to the stove. He stirred a few things and then seemed to shut off the stove and cover up the three pots to let them simmer. When he turned around, his steely eyes traced up and down along my body.

"You look great!" His voice was almost cheery, unlike the low and gruff tone I had become accustomed to in his office.

"Oh." I looked down at myself. I could feel my cheeks turning pink. "Thank you."

"You're so cute when you blush, you know that?" He grinned at me.

I blushed harder and smiled politely, taking another sip of water to give myself something to focus on other than Michael.

He made his way over to my side of the kitchen island, standing right behind me. I could feel his large frame over mine and I set my glass down slowly, my hand shaking from nerves. He must have noticed because he placed one hand on my waist and brought the other to my shaking hand, holding it tenderly. I felt him press a soft kiss to the top of my head.

"Though I should say you're making me feel underdressed at my own dinner." His voice had returned to the low, gruff, sensual tone.

I shuddered slightly and blushed even harder. Michael slowly pulled me back against him before placing a kiss on my burning cheek. He squeezed my hand gently and kissed my cheek again. I could feel my cock immediately harden in my jockstrap. Michael had such a powerful effect on me. With a simple kiss, I was his. I closed my eyes and simply leaned back into him.

Michael continued to presses kisses along my cheek, down my jawline, and onto my neck. I moaned softly as he nibbled at the sweet spot under my ear. When he pulled his lips back, I practically pouted. But he slowly turned me around, my body pinned between him and the kitchen island. I looked up at him, unable to speak.

Michael's green eyes stared back at me. As always, boring straight into my soul. He smiled as he pulled the apron off and set it down on the counter. My eyes danced from his shoulder to shoulder, left to right. In just a t-shirt, his broad shoulders and chest looked enormous. He towered over me but in the most comforting way.

Without thinking, I brought my hands up to his shoulders. Michael responded by grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up until I was seated on the island. Seated level with his waist, I wrapped my legs around him and he willingly accepted, moving closer to me as I clung onto his larger, muscled frame.

Michael smiled down at me and lifted his left hand, wedding band glinting in the light of the kitchen. As Michael ran his fingers through my hair gently, sliding his hand down the back of my head to my neck, I tried to think of how to ask him about the wedding ring. But before I could form any words, Michael pressed his lips to mine.

My eyes flew open in surprise. Michael had never kissed me before. He held me in place by the back of my neck as his soft lips pressed against mine. His short beard tickled and lightly scratched my smooth cheeks. When he felt me relax into the kiss, he pushed his tongue into my mouth. Without hesitation, I immediately started suckling on it. My hands gripped his shoulders tightly, my legs firm around his waist. I tasted his sweet tongue eagerly until he pulled away.

Michael chuckled. "Someone's hungry, huh?."

"Sorry." I mumbled, blushing and biting my lip. My cock was straining in my jockstrap and a deep heat had washed over my body. I felt so uncomfortable in my clothes. They felt too tight. I wanted to rip them off. I wanted Michael to rip them off. I wanted to strip naked and present myself to Michael on his island counter. In that moment, in between all these thoughts, I finally decided to let myself go and enjoy whatever it was that Michael and I had.

I reached down, yanking my polo out of my waistband and slipping it off over my head. I set it down on the island counter next to Michael's apron and looked up at him for approval. He just smirked. I reached down again and quickly undid my belt, pulling it off and setting it aside. I unbuttoned my pants and unzipped them, but I realized I wouldn't be able to slip them off with my legs around Michael's waist.

Michael seemed to have the same thought. He slowly stepped back, slipping my legs from around his waist. He just stood and watched as I removed my shoes and socks, dropping them onto the floor. When I started pushing down my pants, I hesitated. The reality of being seen wearing a jockstrap for the first time was giving me pause. When I looked up at Michael again for a comforting sign of approval, he simply stepped forward and pulled my pants off for me, letting them hit the floor at his feet.

I looked up at him, simultaneously nervous but feeling right at home. It felt so right to be here, practically completely naked and at his mercy. Michael, still fully clothed, returned to his spot between my legs and I happily wrapped my legs around his waist again. I tightened my grip as much as possible, desperate to feel his bulge against me, but Michael seemed to be holding himself back.

Michael traced a finger down from my collarbone to the middle of my chest.

"What do you want, boy?" His low voice grumbled softly.

I bit my lip and simply tried to tighten my legs around his waist again. But he was too strong and remained in place, just out of reach. He pushed his finger into my sternum until I obediently found myself being pushed onto my back. The cold countertop sent a shiver down my spine. I looked up at Michael from this new angle. He looked so powerful. His strong, muscular frame standing above me with my legs wrapped around his waist.

Michael slipped his hand up along my chest and up to my head. Finally, he closed the gap between the bulge in his jeans and my bare ass. My eyes widened as he pushed against me. He leaned forward, bringing his forehead to mine as he very slowly pushed his bulge against me. My legs tightened around his waist, desperate for more.

"This is what you want, right boy?" He growled.

Before I could answer, Michael brought his left hand into my hair and his right on my waist. He held me in place as he leaned down, lips slowly sucking on my neck. He rocked his hips gently back and forth, grinding his denim bulge against me firmly but slowly.

"Y-yes." I managed to croak.

Michael chuckled, kissing his way up to my ear. He tightened his grip on my hair and on my waist, slowly building up his rhythm and grinding against me faster and harder. My cock throbbed in my jockstrap, the black pouch now completely wet with precum. I rocked my own hips back against Michael, trying to match his rhythm and feel more of his large bulge against me.

After a particularly hard thrust against me, Michael pulled my hair firmly. I yelped, arching my back in a wave of pleasurable pain. Michael watched my reaction carefully, unsure if I had enjoyed it. So he pulled my hair again as he thrust against me. The same reaction played out across my body. My back arched, I yelped, and this time my toes curled. Michael grinned. I looked up at him and saw a hunger in his eyes.

I felt Michael's hand slip from my waist and fumble with his jeans. I tried to glance down but he tightened his grip on my hair and pulled my head back. All I could do was look up at his face and broad chest, still covered by a black t-shirt. Michael finally managed to undo his jeans and unzip them. He must've been going commando because he pulled his thick cock out with surprising ease. I could feel its familiar heat against my ass. I swallowed hard.

Michael stroked his cock slowly. I could feel the bulbous head sitting between my smooth cheeks, just barely teasing my hole. With his free hand, he opened one of the drawers and shuffled through its contents.

"There's lube in here somewhere..." He said, mostly to himself it seemed. I was far too distracted by the sensation of his thick cockhead so close to my tight hole, I didn't bother to question why someone would keep lube in their kitchen.

Michael managed to find a small bottle of lube and squirted some onto his cock, stroking it slowly before sliding his slick cockhead up and down. He was still only barely grazing my hole and the sensation was driving me wild. I felt my back arch again as I tried desperately to get closer to his cock.

Finally, Michael pressed his cock forward just slightly, letting the head of his pulsing cock kiss my hole. I moaned deeply, feeling his heat against me. He repeated this motion a few times. Ever so slightly pressing his slick head against my hole and watching my reaction. Each time, I moaned a bit louder. I wanted him to know how deeply I needed him.

Michael's hand slipped from my hair and he slid it down along my jaw. He cupped my face, pressing his thumb to my lips.

"Suck." He said firmly.

I obediently parted my lips and he pushed his thumb in. I suckled on it slowly, savouring the taste of him again. I would have kissed and tasted his entire body if he let me. I swirled my tongue around his thumb and he pushed it in deeper.

As I suckled on his thumb, Michael pressed the head of his cock against my hole more firmly. My hole twitched against his cock. I needed him. My lips immediately parted as I let out a desperate moan. Michael grunted and pressed his thumb onto my tongue.

"Suck." He repeated, more aggressively this time.

I blushed and wrapped my lips around his thumb again, suckling on it as I looked up at him. His eyes were focused on his cock and my ass. He held the shaft, pressing the head firmly against my hole but not yet pushing in. I could feel it pulsing, a thick predator waiting to pounce on its prey. And I wanted nothing more than to let him devour me.

I let out a muffled moan of desperation as he continued to hold his cock firmly against my hole. In frustration, I gripped the smooth counter as best I could and tried to slide towards him and sink his cock into me. Michael chuckled and shook his head.

"Good boys ask permission." He growled. His eyes looked down at me in another one of his piercing stares. He slipped his thumb out of my lips, wiping it against my cheek.

"Please." I moaned, trying again to slide towards him on the counter. He kept his cock just out of reach.

"Please what?"

"Please, give it to me."

"Give what to you?"

"Please, give me your cock!" I whimpered in pure desperation. Michael grinned down at me.

"Good boy."

I felt Michael push forward, the thick pulsing head of his cock pressing into my tight hole. I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath but Michael gripped my face in his hand firmly.

"Look at me boy." He growled.

I opened my eyes to look up at him. His expression was hungry and relentless. He held my face tightly in his hands as he kept pushing forward. I felt his cockhead pop into my inner ring and I gasped, feeling the deep heat of the stretch around my hole.

"Don't. Close. Your. Eyes."

I nodded, unable to speak. I could feel him stretching me open. He moved slow, very slow. He held me in place and pushed in further, sinking deeper into me. The feeling was indescribable. I had been fucked before but this was different. Michael was filling me up with his cock. I felt my hole spasm as he sank in another inch, my grip on him tight and warm.

Michael moaned and glanced down at his cock. "Half way there, boy."

I stared at him in shock. I already felt so full. But I so desperately wanted him to enjoy this, to enjoy me. I grabbed the counter again, this time by the edge, and slid myself down towards him. Michael didn't protest. He simply watched with a devilish smirk as I groaned my way along the counter and impaled myself on the other half of his thick cock.