Selling the Pitch

Brett's hand moved slightly. His fingertips grazed a fold of flesh near my testicles.

I kept thinking he wouldn't do more. Surely he would back out, right? He had to fear waking me up! I could have stopped him. I needed to do something. I thought of the way he'd just walked into the room after his shower. He knew I'd looked. He knew I stared at his dick.

Brett slid his fingers further. They masterfully encased my balls as though he were holding a delicate flower. His thumb folded in. I tried not to react when it brushed the wrinkled skin of my dick. The man moved carefully, feeling his way over my flesh as though any of it might burst like a water balloon. Before long, my shriveled cock was resting gently in the webbing between his thumb and forefinger.

I did nothing.

I wasn't even sure why. It was such a filthy act. He was technically my boss... he was a fucking guy! Yet I lay silently and maintained the facade that I was still sleeping, even with his hand in my boxers and my cock and balls in his fingers. Brett was still breathing steadily. I felt his eyes peering through the dark at my face. I imagined his unblinking gaze while he stalked me like a predator, waiting for me to show the tiniest signs of life.

I wondered how much further he would go.

Could I just lay here? See what he did to me? Why did I want to? It already felt so odd to have such a big hand encircling my dick. Wouldn't a normal person have awoken by now? Didn't he know that?

I repressed every reaction I had when his hand began to tighten through my flesh. I could feel energy rippling right through his big arm. It was unspent though, his palm and fingers all taking care to barely squeeze at the crotch he held. Half of my brain screamed at me to jump out of bed. The other half wanted to reach down and feel the massive knuckles through my boxers.

Brett tugged so gently at my dick. My eyelids fluttered in the dark. His thumb slid up the back of my cock and over the soft rim around the head. I realized my flaccid dick had swollen in his hand a bit. Of course it was. I was cloaked in heat. Another guy was fondling me. My heart was beating erratically. How was I to stop the blood flow? I felt my dick pulse one time in Brett's loose grip. There was no way he didn't feel that. In vain I wondered if a sleeping person could be given an erection.

I didn't want to stop him. A sick little part of me wanted him to keep going. Would he... try to get me hard? What then? Was I going to get hard?

Brett gave my dick another little stroke. I tried to act dead to the world. He gave me another. Jesus, was he trying to "wake me up"? My dick was growing more. I wasn't erect, but I could feel how bloated my shaft was in the sweaty palm of my boss. Brett slid his hand down my shaft. I felt his fingers sweep over the sensitive flesh of my sack. I rolled my eyes into the back of my head.

The whole situation was wrong. As I pretended to be asleep, I was able to be honest with myself inside my own head. As vile as it was, I knew I liked it. I could only imagine what Brett was thinking in that moment. My thoughts grew darker. I hoped he was naked. That would make it more perverse. Was Brett... was he hard? Was this getting him off?

I strained my ears to listen for sounds of the covers moving. I heard none. I imagined the dangling thing I'd seen earlier. What if it was inches beside me, throbbing beneath the covers? Brett stroked his clammy hand up my cock at the same moment I pictured his erection. I thought of sliding my hand out to see if I could feel it....

The tiniest moan slipped out of my lips.

The two of us froze. It was barely even a sound. In the silent darkness, it may as well have been a car horn. My thoughts became a maelstrom of alarms inside my head. I remained still. It had just happened. The little sound had just floated up to the surface like an air bubble in the ocean.

It was the first time I'd heard a change in Brett's breathing. His hand remained encircled around my cock. The strangeness of his hand inside the leg of my boxers returned. My heightened alertness made it feel even more obtrusive.

An hour seemed to pass. I knew better. The warm heavy hand just rested over my crotch. Then, I felt it gliding away. The fingers lifted away from my sack one by one. The thumb faded from beneath my swelling shaft. I felt only the slightest tug of my boxers as Brett removed his hand.

Just like that, I was alone on my side of the bed again. My thigh felt cold even under the covers. My dick was not erect, but it lay inside my boxers much fuller than before. I felt tiny twitches of energy leaving my flesh. I could still feel hard fingers grazing though my scrotum.

For a long time I just lay there staring into the dark. Perhaps I was waiting to see if Brett's hand would return. It did not. I tried to make sense of what had happened. I thought of what I should do or say in the morning. Brett pulled his hand away after I'd made that stupid little sound. Did that mean he was scared I'd woken up?

Why did I just let him do that? I had a wife. So did he. Why wasn't I repulsed my the thought of someone groping me in my sleep?

Why did I like it?

****

The following day didn't allow for much time to dwell on the incident. Brett was awake before I was, already dressed and in full swing. I had to groggily drag myself to the hotel bathroom, shower, and make myself presentable. By the time I was ready to go, Brett already had a laptop case slung over his shoulder and a huge bag rolling behind him.

"Ready to do this, Will?" Brett asked me with a big smile.

I nodded back to him. Brett was still Brett, even though dreamy thoughts of the night before still drifted through my foggy memory. I could tell just by his demeanor that there was no way he would mention the previous night.

"I've got the pamphlets and the knickknacks," Brett said nodding toward the rolling case behind me. "You just get the drone and the hardware if you don't mind and meet me downstairs. Still got your pilot's license, right?"

I scoffed and offered him a grin. "You bet, man."

"Alright, don't take too long," Brett said. "Mingling is half the game. If there's a Will there's a way."

The conference was being held in the giant venues within the hotel itself. The only thing I'd ever seen quite like it were comic book conventions. A sea of tables and vendor stations were situated in a one massive room, while just next door was a stage and viewing hall. Seeing the mass of different people chatting and milling about made my stomach turn.

I knew we'd be presenting the first day. I ate from the complimentary breakfast tables sparingly, feeling the nerves chewing at my insides. I mostly fidgeted with the drone, the remote, and the display at our table in the room filled with vendors. I wanted everything to go smoothly when it was our turn.

Close to midday, I stood silently behind a table on the stage. The transmitter in my hand became slick from my clammy palms. I tried to pay attention and listen for the cues that it was time to send up the drone. I was glad that Brett was in control of the slide show. I zoned out so many times in front of the packed room with so many dark faces expanding below. I'd have missed so many slides if I had the clicker in my hand.

I watched Brett. Maybe that was the problem. How he was able to stand in front of so many people from so many different companies and talk to them in such an inviting way was more than admirable. It made me wish I had that sort of charisma. Brett had the crowd laughing within minutes. His voice boomed through the speakers in the room. He stood so straight with his chest held high and his large hands emphasizing every word he sold to them. Everyone's attention was on him. Including mine.

I kept thinking of those hands. I knew where at least one of them had been. I wondered if I could ever stomach going to the gym. Brett's cleanly shaven head gleamed under the stage lights. The bulge in his shoulders could be seen from across the room. The clothes he wore were simple, professional, and fit him like they were tailor made for his masculine form.

I didn't know if I had what it took to be the guy speaking. I'd have to eventually learn if I wanted to go further in this job. But to become someone like Brett? I knew just staring at him I wasn't as adequate. He wove a spell over the crowd of would be buyers with not just his manly great looks, but some innate charm he commanded.

I thought of him naked.

I wondered if there were females in the crowd doing the same thing. I didn't have to imagine. I'd seen it. Would he do the same thing again? Stroll around the room wearing nothing? I felt my pulse in places that I shouldn't have. The thought of that thing bouncing with his every step made me warm all over again. I stared at Brett smiling and joking on the stage, but I saw the firm slopes of his chest and his thighs and--

"...And it wouldn't be right to toss this snake oil all over you guys without a test flight, right?"

Brett turned his grinning face toward me. The warm fuzzy sensation that coated my skin vanished and goosebumps made my every hair stand. His eyes were on mine. It was irrational but I felt like he'd caught me, like the audience had caught me picturing the man naked. I shook the stupid fears away and brought the drone to life.

The blades whirred and the thing lifted off of the table. I blew out a steady breath and steered the thing right out over the people's heads. I heard their reaction, relieved that I hadn't driven the drone into someone's forehead. I allowed myself to play with the device, lifting several feet to come to a dead stop, strafing the machine over rows of grinning people. The conference goers laughed and turned in their seats to follow the drone.

"Now good aerial shots are nothing without a little height, am I right?" I heard Brett say.

I took my cue, lifting the drone at lightning speed toward the high ceiling of the conference hall. I waited until the final moment to halt the machine, letting it hover just a few feet from the lights overhead. Again I played with the controls, working the device in slow circles and weaving around air ducts.

"No other bird has the range this thing has," Brett kept saying. "I don't care if you're surveying, or mapping, or just wanting to catch people falling off water skis right out back here, you're gonna wanna watch the display because you'll lose sight of this guy quickly. The imaging it's capable of...."

I'd grown so used to the drones that I forgot how easily impressed people were. Our presentation seemed to be going very well. Even the gruff beasts from the construction companies and the sticklers in the suits were enthralled by the circling machine in the air and the slick words of my colleague.

Much of my uneasiness dissipated after the presentation. Hopefully, the hardest part was behind us. We watched the other presenters, which admittedly were a bit lame following our act, and the day wore on.

Brett seemed enthused. For a while after the conference was officially over, I lost track of him. He was so much better at bouncing between people and chatting them up. I thought we'd never leave to grab a bite to eat, but we made a quick trip to town and back. Eventually, I allowed him to talk me into a trip to the bar down the hall from the conference room that afternoon.

"I'm telling you, a lot of these tired saps were really high on the birds," Brett told me. "It's not really about who's doing the buying, it's who's selling."

I nodded, sipping from the tumbler in my hand. Brett's energy was still at its peak. I could tell he really enjoyed his job.

"I don't know if I've got the way with words you do, man," I admitted.

Brett waved a hand at me and finished his drink.

"It just takes time," he said. "Tomorrow you'll get the chance to chat people up, get to know some of them. You just can't be afraid to jump in there, take some chances and feel people out."

I felt a flush of warmth through my veins.

"I think the best way to get used to anything is experience," Brett went on. "It'll feel new and scary at first, but you'll ease into it. I know you'll be a natural. If you spend as much time with people as you do with the cameras and the drones? You'll be able to talk the clothes off of these people's backs."

Brett motioned for the bartender. I took the opportunity to study him. He'd unbuttoned his shirt a bit. Even his neck looked so strong. I wasn't a small guy, but Brett exuded confidence. I saw where it came from. I would have to get in shape. Of course people wanted to talk to him. He looked great. I wasn't too proud to admit it.

The gentle glow of the lights over the bar only deepened the buzz I felt. The alcohol was doing its job, even though I was trying to take it slow. The floaty feeling in my body wasn't the only way I could tell. I eyed the bigger man's hands on the bar as he joked with the bartender. I could still feel the way they had squeezed me. I still remembered the darkness of the room.

I had to get good at talking. Using the confidence instilled by the alcohol, I decided to start with Brett. I took a fleeting glance around the bar to make sure no one was close by.

"Hey, Brett," I said as the bartender walked away. "You care if I ask you something?"

Brett turned toward me on the stool.

"Yeah, shoot," he said.

I steeled myself.

"Do you... remember anything about uh, last night?" I said.

I forced every word forth. It took several seconds before I could lift my eyes to my boss.

Brett stared back at me. His brows furrowed in confusion, but in one flash of a moment, I saw his eyes. They didn't match. Something flickered like a match being struck behind his gaze.

"Here at the bar?" Brett said. "C'mon, I wasn't hammered when I came in, Will."

I shook my head, unable to maintain firm eye contact.

"No, later," I reiterated. "In the room."

I tossed another glance over my shoulder. I didn't want to be heard. I slid closer to Brett on my bar stool, though I bit back a shudder being so close to the bigger guy.

"I felt you touch... my leg," I said as hushed as I could. "Do you remember anything like that?"

It was out there. I forced myself to watch his reaction.

Brett took a sip from his new beverage. He chewed a piece of ice from the glass and studied me. For several seconds, his eyes bored right through me. I couldn't gauge his lips while he noisily chewed the ice. Was he grinning? Wincing? It was maddening, even more so when his eyes darted lower while he apparently sized me up.

"Sure I do," he said.

The words hit me like a splash of cold water. I'd expected him to weave a carefully crafted excuse, or to dismiss what had happened. He was admitting it?

"I must have gotten on your side of the bed, right?" Brett said chuckling. "You made some kind of noise, woke me up."

The tension in my body began to settle. Still, I could only watch him. I wasn't prepared for what to say in return. Brett was always prepared it seemed.

"You... y-you were sleeping?" I asked.

Brett nodded. "For most of the night. Look, I know it's weird, but I did sleep like a bear. Maybe the one bed was a blessing, you know? I didn't mean to wake you up, Will, sorry. Maybe it's better you did, I could have been all over you."

Brett laughed as he stole the final words. I offered a smile in return, but inside a plethora of emotions were tumbling in my guts.

Turning the tumbler up and killing his drink, Brett stood up. His body was right next to mine. I started to turn but his hand was already on my shoulder. He gave me a squeezed and leaned close to the side of my face.

"Look I promise if it happens again," he said into my ear, "I'll at least try a little foreplay first."

Brett was chuckling as he stood up straight. He dug in his pocket and tossed a few bills on the bar. My jaw hung open while I scanned my brain for any response. None came. Brett squeezed my shoulder again. He pushed away from me playfully and tossed up a hand.

"I'm headed back up," he said, still smiling. "Gotta grab another shower and I think I'm done. Don't stay up too late, tonight. Got another day of this. You gotta crush em, tomorrow."

I could only watch as he walked away. It was so easy, so casual for him. I was dumbfounded. Had he... admitted? To anything?

I couldn't move from the bar for the longest time. I ordered two more drinks, slowly drowning myself in them. I tried to go over everything in my head, but I couldn't decide on the answer to the riddle. The thought of returning to the room was daunting. Brett was going to shower again. How would I find him this time? People left the quiet little bar one by one. I was fixed in the same position for what seemed like hours. The warm sensation never left my skin. I couldn't get his words out of my head.

I couldn't get any of him out of my head.

****

It was late when I finally rode the elevator up to the room. A young woman about my age was on the elevator with me. I snuck a few glances at her. Aside from her polite greeting, she payed me no attention at all. I'd seen her at the conference. If she recognized me from our presentation earlier, she didn't show it at all. I knew if Brett were in the elevator she'd notice him.

I kept my legs moving straight until I reached the door to the room. A sensation clouded my head, and it wasn't from the alcohol. I couldn't decide if it was dread or excitement. Maybe it was both. The card beeped and I winced as the door made a loud clunk as it unlocked. I saw the darkness in the room retreat from the hall as I opened the door. I shook my head trying to get a grip. Maybe he was asleep.

Brett was in the bed. The television was off. Everything was off. I glanced at the display on the clock. It wasn't as late as it felt. Brett was clearly trying to get an early start in the morning. Or so it seemed. I could make out his shape beneath the covers, his huge arms bent beside his shaven head on the pillow.

He's shirtless, something whispered in my head.

I shook the thoughts away and crept through the room. There was no way I was going to turn on a light. I had to dress down in the dark, careful not to make any sounds loud enough to stir Brett. I folded my pants, stuck the charger in my phone, and set my things aside.

I stared at the bed. All I had to do was lie down. Why did it seem so challenging? I considered the couch against the wall. The room was freezing. Maybe I could use my clothes as a cover? That was stupid. I knew it right when I thought of it. I took a breath and headed toward the balcony.

I stood looking out into the night, trying to decide what to do. Of course I was going to bed. Any other night I'd have told myself to stop being silly. The darkness in the room felt too familiar now. I could still feel Brett's fingers squeezing around my shoulder.

And my dick.

He wouldn't do that again. I'd said something. He knew that I knew. He was good with words, and he'd passed it off, but we both knew the truth. There was no way he'd stroked my dick in his sleep. Brett would have to be insane to try something that daring twice.

I felt insane for considering getting in the same bed again.

I had spoken to my wife on the phone in the bar. It didn't help. I was just as glad to talk to her as always, and she was just as excited to hear about the conference. None of it matched the feeling of heading up to the room. The sensation was still there as I stood looking out at the lake. Brett was right inside. We'd be sharing the bed again. His body would be so close. I wasn't sure if I was scared that the events of the prior night would happen again, or if I was scared because a hidden part of me wanted them to.

I stepped back in the room and slid the door shut as gently as I could manage. What light entered the room did so from the sliding balcony door. I could see Brett. His arms were still up by his head. Their meaty trunks dove toward a broad chest, barely concealed by the covers. A single leg hung wide, and Brett's knee jutted out from the sheets.