More Than Just A "Temp"

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A boss takes on a new temp.
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jonnyring
jonnyring
18 Followers

My name is David Hawthorne, known in some circles as 'Spike' and I run a moderately successful brokerage business. I have lived alone for over ten years now since my previous partner died in a car crash and in that time I have put all of my energies into the business.

That isn't to say that I have been a monk over the years I have had my share of flings: some were just one night stands others could have been more if I'd wanted them to be. The thing was that I didn't and so it was, at the age of 43 that I found myself saying a temporary 'farewell' to one of the few trusted people in my life, my PA of nearly nine years Miranda, as she prepared to go off on maternity leave to have her first child. I was dreading losing the closest thing I had to a friend but the moment couldn't be put off much longer as the baby was due in less than two weeks. Since the death of my partner Miranda had become a confidant so I knew that not having her there to support me was going to be difficult.

Miranda assured me that she had made 'suitable' arrangements and that I would scarcely miss her and as I drove into work on that first Monday I was dreading what would greet me sitting behind her desk. The building was quiet as I walked through to my office, I settled down to some post and was disturbed by a voice, 'Mr Hawthorne?'

I looked up to be greeted by a well dressed man, in his thirties. He was average height, clean shaven and stockily built. 'Good morning sir I'm Chris White, I'm from the agency, your PA arranged for me to start today.'

I was lost for words. Miranda had a sense of humour but this was outside even her best efforts - a male PA! I stood up and motioned him to come in, I put my hand out to shake his and as he took it in a firm warm grip he looked me straight in the eyes and I felt slightly uncomfortable with this stranger who had just walked into my life.

We sat and chatted briefly dealing with the details of his temporary contract, all seemed satisfactory so I showed him to his desk and went back to the post. I worked my way through all the items but all the time my mind was racing, what could Miranda have been thinking to bring this stranger into my life!

During that first day I gave Chris a few tasks: asked him to sort out some files for me, arranged some meetings and generally got him settled in. The day passed uneventfully as did the next and the first week. One thing I did notice about Chris was that he was always immaculately dressed: mostly dark colours, always formally and I suppose I picked up on this style for I looked out some of my suits, bought a few new shirts and even a couple of plain sober ties, not that I'm a 'tie' kind of bloke but it felt right that I at least had something suitable in my wardrobe if the need arose. I took to wearing suits in to work rather than my usual jeans and loose shirt and somehow it felt "right" to be setting that tone with my new employee.

Chris was quietly efficient too I found my desk tidied each night: papers for meetings were delivered to me in neat folders with all the details precisely set out on a headed sheet at the front. He took control of my diary in a way that left me more time for myself and I could see how efficiently he was managing my work load.

Then I needed to work over a weekend and Chris offered to make himself available too. I took him up on his offer and was surprised when he turned up wearing snug fitting jeans and equally close-fitting polo shirt.

We got through the work quickly and as lunchtime approached I offered to take him to lunch. He paused momentarily before accepting and we finished up, got into my car and set off for a local restaurant I knew.

Chris settled back into the passenger seat of my BMW and as I drove I sneaked the odd sideways glance at him. He looked different out of his suit more like a rugby player. During one of my secret glances he must have sensed me looking at him for he turned and met my gaze. My stomach churned. Over the meal we chatted about our lives, he seemed quite well informed about mine (I made a mental note to chide Miranda for that!). We touched on how he came to be a 'temp' and he told me that he did the work in between his main career which was a writer specialising in murder / mystery needless to say I was taken off balance by this revelation. He told me had had several novels published under his "pen-name" and I was rather surprised because I had recently read a review of his latest offering in one of the Sunday "heavies" which seemed to favour both the author and his product.

I said I'd heard of him, in his alter-ego, and a small smile passed across his face which transformed the normally quiet looking man into someone really attractive! As he sat there opposite me I knew why Miranda had chosen this man to work closely with me and I cursed her for her perception and blessed her for her taste! Clearly she knew me far better than I knew she did and far better than I knew myself.

Out of the blue Chris offered to get me invited to a book signing he was involved in over then next couple of weeks, "You'll probably find it a complete bore but it's an evening out and you might find the people-watching opportunity amusing - that's what always keeps me going!" I accepted without hesitation and we finished our meal, he said his goodbyes and went off into the sunlit afternoon, I returned to my house with an unsettled mind.

I rang Miranda: "How are you getting on with Mr. Efficiency then?" was her first question after we'd covered the birth of her daughter. "Fine, I think" was my response, "Why did you choose him?" there was silence then she said, "I thought he'd be good for you ... ..."

I was stunned, and said so. Miranda continued, "Well, I figured it was time you had a man in your life in some capacity and he came very highly recommended - isn't he any good then?"

I told her he was perfectly good at his job I just wasn't sure about all the other stuff he was awakening, "What other stuff?" So I told her about how I'd been feeling with him around, the meal we'd just had together and how it had left me feeling. Miranda was surprised, "Spike I really had no idea he was gay!"

"I'm not sure either" I replied "But the dreadful thing is I'm beginning to hope he might be 'cos he really is beginning to get under my RADAR."

We talked through this for a while and then Miranda made her excuses and eventually rang off. I was left with my feelings to mull over during the rest of the weekend and come Monday when I walked into the office my stomach was churning as I walked past the empty desk. Not long after I arrived Chris walked in, smart dark suit, dark shirt and contrasting tie - God he looked hot! He came in, wished me good morning and placed a sealed white envelope on my desk "Your invitation to the book-signing." I thanked him and when he'd left my office and settled down at his desk I opened the envelope, the address was a smart book store in the West End of London, and I was invited to the reception afterwards. I made a note in my diary and settled down to my work.

The day of the book signing arrived and I was unsettled at the thought of seeing a different side to Chris' life. He'd left early to get changed and meet his publisher and I left earlier than I would normally do to go home, get changed and make my way into London. In preparation I'd been out the previous week and bought myself a new suit, an expensive dark blue material which I matched with a pure white open-necked shirt. I'd also been to have my hair cut and styled and as I showered and shaved I looked at my reflection, rugged probably best describes my features, although the new hair cut had re-shaped my face and it was now framed with neatly styled spiked grey hair - although I didn't want to admit it, it did make me look younger, perhaps more distinguished, fanciable even - hell don't even go there!

I parked my car in a secure 24 hour car park, caught a taxi to the book store and as I arrived I saw that there were already crowds of chi-chi people milling around. I showed my invitation to the security guard and was ushered into a smaller room where clearly only the select few were invited, with my new persona I felt at home and took the glass of champagne the waiter offered me. I looked around the room and eventually saw Chris standing chatting with a woman, he caught my eye and motioned me to join them.

I took in the sight of this man who once again surprised me with his different style: this time he was dressed in light colours: his white silk shirt was open several buttons down from the collar displaying a darkly matted close cropped hair on his upper chest. I hadn't really noticed before how broad his neck was and the five o'clock shadow was also a surprise. His hair normally slicked down was spiked up with hair gel and the whole effect was bottomed out with a pair of clearly expensive Italian loafers. He smiled a broad smile and I as I drew close I caught the whiff of expensive cologne, "Spike" he'd never called me that before, "Can I introduce you to my publisher Suzannah De Marco - Suzannah, this is David Hawthorne, I'm temping for him at the moment."

The woman turned to me and gave me a brilliant smile, "Spike. May I call you that? I have heard so much about you!" I was floored and just went with the flow, touching her outstretched hand with my lips in an extravagant gesture, quite out of character for me. Chris winked and carried on with his conversation. I stood there stunned by the vision of him, the warmth of the greeting and the aura he was casting on all around him.

The signing got underway and I just stood back watching a consummate professional at work. Chris greeted each purchaser with a flash of his dazzling smile, murmuring a few well chosen words and writing a personalized dedication in each copy. After more than 45 minutes he got up for a break and walked over to me, as he approached I raised my glass to him and he made a mock-bow. "This is for you" he said and handed me a copy of his book, I opened the cover and inside an inscription read: "Spike, hope you like the alternative me, Chris."

I looked him straight in the eyes and said "You bet I do - I had no idea what was lurking under that sober suit but now I do I want to find out more - is that OK?"

"Why do you think I invited you?" was his reply, "I wanted to see how you'd like my alter ego, what your reaction would be. I think we have some talking to do, don't you?" He then said he needed to hang around for about another hour after which we'd be free and he'd arranged dinner "My treat this time". So I waited until he was free and we left the book store around 9 o'clock. We went to a small restaurant quite close by and they seemed to know him there, we were shown to a quiet table and we sat opposite one another. There was a bottle of chilled champagne on the table and Chris poured two glasses out. "Whoa fella - I gotta drive later" I chastised him he just smiled that fabulous smile and returned the bottle to the chiller.

"Here's to us" he said and raised his glass I raised mine and we both drank. As we ate we chatted over a number of different things: we talked about his career as an author; we talked about my work; we talked about people we knew and as we talked and ate our food I knew I was falling under a spell, what I wasn't sure about was whether the same was happening to him.

The meal ended and outside Chris hailed a cab, "My place then?" he said and got into the taxi, I followed and sat next to him on the cold seats. As the taxi drew away I was conscious of the heat coming from his body, neither of us spoke, both locked in our thoughts about what might happen next. I realised I had drunk too much to drive, I didn't know where we were going and, unusually for me, I wasn't really worried much about that. Eventually the cab pulled up outside a smart block of flats overlooking the river. We got out, Chris paid the cabbie and then led me towards the entrance. In the lift he stood looking straight at me, I returned his gaze. So we reached the door of his apartment and he opened it, immediately I could see it was stylish, expensive and had panoramic views of the river, which at this time of night threw all sorts of coloured reflections into the apartment.

The door closed and I felt his warm hand reach inside my shirt and seek out my nipple. He pulled me back to his body and I was shocked to feel the solid form of his hard cock as it nestled into the crack of my cheeks. He kissed me on the neck then turned me around and we kissed on the mouth, long hard man-kisses. He slipped off my jacket and unbuttoned some of the shirt and once again felt for and squeezed my nipple, I groaned and he released me, turned and led me upstairs to the bedroom. He stood behind me and began to undress me, all the while rubbing his cock into my body. When he got to my trousers he released the zipper and slid his free hand inside, massaging my hard cock through my underwear. Nuzzling my neck he kissed my shirt off my shoulders and I was naked except for the small white briefs which were trying, vainly, to contain my stiff cock. He undressed quickly, removing his trousers I realised he wore no underwear and I stared at the thick, hard cock that stood almost vertically from his hairy body.

He pushed me gently back onto the bed, "You realise I'm gonna fuck you, don't you?" By way of a reply I moved down the bed and took most of his cock deep into my mouth. He put his hands on the back of my head and started a slow mouth fuck. His balls were large and shaved and soon they were touching my chin as most of his thick cock was down my throat. As I came up for air he swapped places with me, deftly removing my white briefs which by this time were wet through with pre-cum. "Mmm." He murmured and swallowed my cock.

He began to feel around my arse and found my hole and wet fingers began to probe the edges and slip inside. It had been a very long time since someone had entered me like this and after a moment of tenseness I relaxed and let him inside. More fingers and soon I was on my back with his cock pressing at the entrance. We kissed and as we did so he pushed the whole thick length inside my hole and I felt his heavy balls slap against my cheeks. "Perfect fit - I knew it would be!" and he started a slow rhythm coming almost out then sliding right back in, my cock pumped pre-cum in time with this motion and soon the beats quickened and I felt the thickness grow. By now we were fucking each other, me rising to meet his incoming thrust, he slapping hard up against the entrance. Without touching myself I started to cum: streams of spunk shot across my chest and my arse went into hyper-spasm. He moaned a low guttural sound and I felt him pump his cum deep inside my guts, still keeping up the movement until the last drops had been shared.

Somehow we maneuvered ourselves so that Chris was behind but still inside me and we lay on the bed and drifted to sleep. When I woke up the next morning I was alone in the bed with the sounds and smells of breakfast drifting into the room. I found my pants and put them on and wandered downstairs towards the source of the activity. Chris was there, wearing just jogging bottoms and a T-shirt, making scrambled eggs and toast and tea. When he heard me enter the kitchen area he turned and smiled at me, "Hey sleepy-head, sit down breakfast is nearly ready." I sat at the kitchen table and, in the daylight, looked around the apartment. The kitchen was open-plan with the living area and one wall overlooked the river so the whole place was incredibly light and airy. A plate of freshly cooked eggs, tomatoes and toast appeared in front of me and Chris put his arm around me and kissed the nape of my neck "Enjoy." He said and turned back to collect his own plate of food. As he sat down I could see his jogging bottoms were "tenting" with a semi-hard cock, this encouraged mine to complete its own erection, contained though it was in my underwear. As we ate in silence we exchanged long glances and once we'd finished I thanked him and sat back in the chair.

"You OK?" Chris asked. I replied that I was. "Last night was very good - I'd been dreaming about that for weeks." He ventured. I just sat and looked at him, watching him drink his tea. I was so full of emotion I couldn't speak, my head was spinning at the idea I had spent the night with this amazing man, he was young, good looking, obviously financially independent and clearly fancied me, it was almost too much to take in.

"Time for a shower" and he took my hand and together we walked into the shower room. Again he stood behind me and pinched my nipples as he ground his hard cock into the ridge of my arse. I reached behind me and pushed my hands inside the silky material of his track suit bottoms and played with his hot, stiff cock. As I bent over to remove my pants I felt the head of his cock pushing against the entrance to my hole. I pushed back against him and Chris was soon buried deep inside my guts, quickly removing the T-shirt and kicking off his track suit bottoms we started a slow hard fuck. Chris was holding my buttocks in a vice-like grip humping me hard. At one point he lifted me off the ground with the ferocity of his upward thrusts. Once again pre-cum started to pump out of my rock-hard cock in time with Chris's thrusts. I could feel an increasing heat and stiffness from his tool and I could also feel that I was close to climaxing. As I had the night before I erupted, sending ribbons of cum across the wet room floor, the spasming of my arse tipped Chris over the edge and I felt his pumping his cum deep inside me. He clung to me as his orgasm subsided and nibbled my ear: "Now it's time for that shower – we need to get you cleaned up and into work!" and he turned on the water which pummeled our bodies with steaming hot, cleansing water.

I dressed in my suit, discarding my pre-cum damp underwear and noticed that Chris had dressed in his usual sober dark colours. Before we left his flat we kissed and he held me at arms length, looking in my face. "Is this OK?" he asked.

"I think this is good – unexpected but very good." I replied.

We traveled down in the lift to the underground car park and I walked up to the Ford he usually came to work in but as we approached the car the alarm on a Porsche parked in the next bay disarmed and I heard the clonk as the central locking opened the car.

"I thought we'd travel in style today" he said, this guy was full of surprises, "We'll pick your car up after work and you can collect some things from your place – if you want to that is?"

I settled back in the leather sport seats of the Porsche, "You're the one who works out all the plots." I laughed, "I get the feeling I'll just leave the planning up to you and enjoy the ride." And with a slight squeak of tyres the car left the car-park we were off to work and a new life.

jonnyring
jonnyring
18 Followers
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