Metzger Wickerslammed

There was a lot of pressure in the office that cold night in February. Grover Metzger and Oscar Wickersham worked hard into the night as they downed pot after pot of cheap coffee. Both men had been raised during the Depression so they knew the value of a dollar. That's why they work so hard to get you what YOU deserve. Metzger looked up at Wickersham and said in a husky, cigarette riddled voice: "It's so cold out tonight, This John Henry blazer can't hold up to it."

"Buck up" Wickersham retorted. The entire scene was reminiscent of A Christmas Carol, Wickersham's miserly outlook kept the dingy office cold but there was a warmth in Metzger's voice that couldn't be extinguished, no matter how coldly Wickersham treated him. Out of the corner of his eye Wickersham could see distraction on Metzger's face, he was despondent- normally he relished in forcing the big insurance companies to settle but right now, at this moment, there was no fire in his eyes. They were lifeless, glossed over and staring through the paper on his desk.

"Are you ok, Grover?" Wickersham asked "I'm sorry I was so short with you."

"It's ok, It's just this weather"

"Why don't you throw some more coal on the fire and come over here, I think there's a draft on that side of the room" Metzger got up and placed a few coals in the flames, bringing his chair to his good friend's desk. He felt refreshed and began to focus with Wickersham on the task at hand with renewed vigor. He reached over for a paper on Wickersham's desk, the same that Wickersham himself was trying to pick up. Their hands grazed each other and they nervously chuckled and exchanged apologies.

"You weren't kidding" said Metzger "It's like a sauna over here. Mind if I take off this blazer?"

"Not at all, now that you mention it is a little warm" Wickersham added, watching Metzger drop his jacket from his shoulders- careful not to let his good friend catch his gaze as he loosened his collar and went back to work. Wickersham brought his fingers to his temples and soothed them, the work was becoming monotonous but it had to be done, there was a proven track record to uphold. He looked over, expecting to see Metzger pouring over the mountain of papers, instead all he saw was the returning gaze of his business partner and confidant.

"What?" Wickersham asked

"Nothing, I was just thinking about when we got into this business, remember when our bar exam results came in, we really went wild that night. It's like yesterday; you were there in your traditional white shirt and gray suit, so swarthy, one look in those Sinatra eyes and the broad would melt."

"Yes, but that was a long time ago, I don't think I can pull it off anymore"

"Oh I think you could, here, look me right in the eyes"

Wickersham had been waiting for that invitation the whole night. The room seemed to get hotter by the moment as they each stared into their yellowing eyes and saw the men from their pasts, unchanged from that wild night in Branson, Missouri.

"SCOTCH, we should have some scotch" shouted Wickersham- breaking the tension as the duo sought to break the big insurers each and every time they walked into the courtroom. He rose and opened the decorative globe which also served as a concealed liquor cabinet. He poured two large glasses and turned around to see Metzger standing just inches in front of him.

"I-I um, I can get it myself" Wickersham managed to gulp out.

"I only want one thing going down my throat tonight." With that Metzger slapped away the scotch, brought his hand to the back of Wickersham's head and pulled him in for the most forceful and passionate kiss either man had experienced. Their tongues battled like rival reindeer as their desires, repressed for decades, reached fruition in just a few seconds. All of a sudden Wickersham pushed his companion away and said in a tone that Metzger had never heard, he could sense the frailty and tenderness in Wickersham's voice for the first time as he said"

"This better be real, Grover, I've been wanting it so long, please don't play with me."

"Oscar, you don't know how many nights I've slept, clung to my pillow with all my strength, keeping myself from calling you and asking you how you felt about us. You don't know how many tears I've cried for you, for us, for what I thought would never be- and now here; Oscar Metzger if this isn't real I don't know what is- surely the money we bring to clients is real tangible cash that we only collect a portion of if they win money but if I could only tell you one thing, it's that I have the deepest and most abiding passion and respect for you as a man, a friend, and a lover. Please, don't doubt something that feels so right."

With that a single tear ran down Metzger's cheek, his newfound lover wiped it away, and as he was about to wipe it on his Chino pants- he pulled it back up to his face and said "I want to taste you-- now."

The passionate kissing continued for what seemed like hours. Music from the men's heyday- Bing Crosby, Billie Holliday, Cole Porter rang in their heads- the great love songs of their lifetimes were coming true with each hand that grazed an ear and each tear dropped on the others shoulder. Suddenly the kissing stopped, as Wickersham, who was now leaning on top of Metzger bracing against the globe gently nibbled on his lover's ear and reached his hands to the collar of his VanHeusen Classic Fit dress shirt. Gently, Carefully, Wontingly, undoing each button to reveal the hardened globe of skin and white fur that lie beneath. He kissed each and every inch of that man-mountain and brought his attention further south. He cupped his business partner's genitals, he felt no erection- years of smoking had clotted the man's blood to a viscous sludge, but that was just a small hurdle for Wickersham.

He ripped the pants off in such a fury that Metzger nearly lost his balance. Wickersham slid his hand into the cloth sleeve of the Hanes undergarments Metzger received as the only Christmas present from his nine children. There he felt the most wrinkly and handsome penis he'd known. He pulled out the rod, which was akin to a water balloon filled with sand and kissed the shaft all around, twisting it in all possible ways to make sure Metzger knew what was coming. Wickersham opened his jowly jaw and received Metzger's wand with no trouble, as if it was as natural as the air he wheezed. Metzger winced in pleasure and exhaled with a guttural breath. The vacuum Wickersham created forced Metzger to the ground in pleasure as he pulled colleague up to his mouth and their make out session entered act two.

"Don't you dare stop me when I'm just getting started..." Wickersham said slyly as he kissed his path back down to his associate's hot rod. The wrinkles on Wickersham's face bobbled and quivered with each stroke as Metzger reached down to rub his hands trough the single remaining patch of Wickersham's soft and sallow hair- caressing down to his cheeks and pushing them together. Metzger's toes began to fan out and his hips swayed with the motion of Wickersham's head- they both could sense what was coming. Metzger breathed in sharply and released his load into Wickersham's throat like a popped pimple. A driblet of Metzger's ooze hung on Wickersham's lip as he crawled back up to his friends' smiling face and they began to lightly kiss each other. Wickersham began to reach around Metzger's body to his rippling ass and grabbed hold tightly as he brought himself close to his ear and whispered "This, is mine." And with that he removed his pants, climbed aboard his sex-slayed lover and began to seek interfemoral pleasure.

Metzger's thighs were thick from decades of inactivity, all their hair had worn away from their constant rubbing together and the sweat created from their previous session had lubricated the entire area with his grease-laced sweat. The moment was perfect. In between thrusts Wickersham kissed the back of Metzger's head, down to his ear and to his cheek finally meeting his lips with saliva and sweat dripping from their union. Metzger's speed increased constantly and the area reddened from the friction. The heat and pleasure were coming to a peak as the men became one in that dank and unfurnished room. Creaks rang throughout as chairs and desks shook from the commotion. A chihuahua-like yelp left Metzger's lips as he gave one final thrust- with all the power he could muster and as he pulled back released his contents on to Metzger's corpulent, furrowed back.

Wickersham fell beside Metzger as if what now lay on Metzger's back was all that sustained him. Both breathed heavily and lappingly kissed each other. With the passionate love-making now a fond memory the men did their best to comfort one another pulling their off-the-rack blazers around each other. Satiated, both men fell asleep in their arms knowing that the next morning nothing would be the same.