Steve

I work as head of IT for a multi-county health care organization, am in my early 50s, and, up to the start of this story which took place about a decade ago, led a fairly normal life: married, three kids, nice house, vanilla lifestyle and very vanilla sex life.

One of the addictions counselors in the office was "out" but not flamboyantly so. He came across as quite low-key and normal, slightly over 6 feet tall, good-looking, about 10 years younger than I, seemed to be in good shape - the prototypical "tall, dark and handsome" type that the ladies in the office swooned over in vain. We gradually formed an office friendship, nothing outside of work but we would exchange pleasantries and occasionally talk in the break room or over lunch. I respected him for having had the courage to come out when he was young, in the late 80s, in a pretty conservative area of the country, at a time when homosexuality was still considered aberrant by a majority of society.

One of my job functions was to perform maintenance on the agency databases, which meant updating each computer in addition to the servers, so I would occasionally call Steve to schedule access to his computer. He'd invariably make a joke about making sure he got the porn off before I looked at it, and we'd chuckle, but he never crossed boundaries that would make me uncomfortable.

When smartphones became popular on the market I decided that staff members who worked from multiple offices or worked in the field should have them for ease of accessing email and other work, so I gave Steve one and showed him the basics of its use. He asked about installing apps, and I said that personal use was allowed as long as it didn't conflict with other agency policies or cost the agency extra money.

A few months later he called me to say the phone "wasn't acting right", so I asked a few diagnostic questions, then told him I'd need to look at it. It was running very slowly, so I started looking at memory issues and found that almost the entire memory was used by pictures. I opened the photo app and found several albums, each with hundreds of high-resolution pictures and videos of naked men in various states of sexual activity. I exclaimed, "What the hell, Steve?!?" and looked up to see him staring at me with an expression of panic. He started to reach for the phone and I held it away from him. "I need to take this and figure out what's going on. Depending on what's on here I might have to report it to the director. At a minimum I need to get this shit off here and make sure there's no malware that can infect our systems." He nodded dejectedly and sat down at his desk as I left his office. When I got back to my desk, I made sure the phone was off the network, then made a backup image in case I needed to file a report or wipe the phone.

I looked at the photo app, and saw one folder named "Me", which contained dozens of pictures of a partially or completely naked Steve, most featuring his cock in varying states of erection. I'd never really paid much attention to mens' cocks before except in the occasional porn flick featuring a male star of huge proportion, but there was something about Steve's cock that made me look at it closely. It was very nicely proportioned, seemed to be pretty long and decent girth, with a large mushroom head and wide piss slit. Many of the pictures didn't show his face, just his cock and balls from above, side or below. Some, judging from the background, had been taken in the mens' room down the hall, and it was clear that in those he was going commando, as I could see his belt and khaki pants but never any underwear. These pictures seemed to be in stop motion: the first just the root of his cock and thick bush of pubic hair showing, with the rest of his meat covered by his pants; the next exposing most of the length; the next showing the entire soft cock, with prominent veins running the entire length, criss-crossing, disappearing into his dark pubes; then one with the head getting larger, a darker color, the root of his cock thickening, the tip extending another inch or so past his hand on his pants; then fully erect, jutting out proudly, seemingly 8 or 9 inches long, the thick mushroom head swollen with proud lust, with a stream of clear precum running down the head onto his finger.

I was surprised to find myself breathing harder, my pulse racing, and my own much more modestly proportioned cock starting to swell in response to this vision of manhood. I'd had occasional fantasies of men's cocks before but never had I had this type of visceral reaction when seeing one.

I quickly closed that photo album, deleted all the pictures on the phone, and looked through it to ensure there were no malicious apps installed that might damage our systems. I looked through his "sent" emails to ensure he hadn't used our mail servers to send any prurient photos, then took his phone back down to his office. It had seemed like I was staring at his cock pics for hours, but from the time I got to my office to the time I went back to his, barely over an hour had elapsed.

Steve was still sitting at his desk, his head in his hands, clearly expecting to be fired. When I knocked on the door-frame he looked up and I could see that he was on the verge of tears. I handed him his phone, and said, "I cleared space in memory by deleting the pictures that were causing the erratic behavior. It seems to be working fine now. I'd recommend only taking pictures that are essential for work purposes to keep this from happening again", turned, and left his office. As I turned I saw him looking at my crotch with a slight smile on his face, and to my horror I realized I was still tenting an erection.

When I got back to my own office I closed the door and sat at my desk, wondering what the hell had just happened. Clearly having those pictures on his phone was a violation of agency communications policy. Why hadn't I written him up? Why had I gotten so excited? Why was I still thinking about his beautiful cock? Why the hell did I just think the words "beautiful cock" about another man??

I didn't hear from Steve the rest of the day, but as I was getting ready to leave for the evening (I usually was the last to leave the building, so I made the rounds turning out lights), he came out of the rest room as I passed by, and walked with me down the hall and out the door. As we were walking to our cars in the otherwise empty parking lot, he walked closer to me and said "Thank you for letting that pass. I really owe you one." As he spoke he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. I nodded, trying to appear calmer than I felt, and said "Not a problem, I didn't see any reason to make a bigger deal out of it than it needed to be."

Still holding my shoulder he stopped, which made me turn to face him. He smiled, and asked, "So, did you really not think it was a very big deal?" and looked down. I looked down as well and saw his other hand outlining his thick prick through his pants. Somehow through the khaki it looked larger and more potent than it had seemed in the pictures. I could see the mushroom head stretching toward the outside of his thigh. It was growing. I struggled to tear my eyes away but just stared in fascination. Steve's voice startled me. "See something you like? You can taste it if you want. All you have to do is ask." I jerked away from him, bringing my gaze back up to meet his dark, laughing eyes.

"Don't push your luck, Steve." I retorted, trying to seem in control of my emotions. "I have an image of your phone. I could still choose to report it." But Steve must have smelled blood, because instead of backing down he just stepped up close to me, and put his mouth close to my ear to whisper, "But then you wouldn't have me around any more. You'd miss me, wouldn't you?" and turned his hips just enough to press his semi-erect cock against my hand. "You'd miss out on being able to feel this" and he took hold of my wrist and turned it so my open palm was around the root of his cock. It felt hot through the cotton weave, and much thicker than my own was when erect. And I could feel it growing even thicker. "I think we both know that's why you didn't report it. Just think how much you'd like to feel this between your lips, on your tongue. Just imagine what it would be like to have a real man's hot, hard cock to play with for hours."

I jerked away, angrily. "Look, Steve, just because I didn't report this doesn't mean I want anything from you, or to do anything with you. I just don't like to get people in trouble when it isn't necessary. Just drop it."

Steve had stopped smiling. "Have it your way," he hissed. "But your little dickie is hard as a rock and ready to blow, and it's telling me you're dying for a chance at my 9 inches of thick meat." I looked down and with shock saw the tent in my own pants that belied my denials. I quickly turned away and started toward my car.

Steve said, firmly, "Wait." I instinctively stopped, then recovered and took several steps before he caught me by the shoulder, turned me around and slapped me across the mouth. I was too shocked by this to even react. He smiled but his eyes were hard. "I can see through you, you little slut. You think you've covered it up but you're a submissive little fairy just looking for a daddy to spank your tender ass and fuck your hot little mouth. I'll let you go home now, but I guarantee you, you'll be begging me for a chance to suck this." He put a thumb in my open mouth, and pressed on my jaw to make me look down. His cock was now out of his pants, swollen, angry, dominating. "Take a good, long look, you closet queen. This is a man's cock. This is your daddy's cock, and you're going to beg to worship it if your daddy ever decides to let you."

My gaze was riveted to his glorious prick, stiffening as I stared, pulsing, the veins standing out, the head throbbing. I couldn't pull my eyes away. He grabbed my wrist, and brought my hand to his cock. I felt it in my palm, my fingers couldn't close around it. (Why was I trying to close my fingers around it?) It was hotter than I thought possible, and hard as steel, yet silky smooth even with the thick veins coursing through it. The mushroom head grew as I moved my hand back and forth over the length of his beautiful cock. (Why was I stroking it??) His balls felt huge in my other hand, like billiard balls. I never imagined a man's balls could be so big. (How did my other hand get to his balls???) They churned as I held them, and suddenly tightened into his belly as he shot rope after rope of thick white cum onto my shirt and pants.

He took his thumb out of my mouth, and I realized with a start that I'd been sucking on it as he came on me. He lifted my head by my chin til I was looking into his dark eyes, and softly said, "You'd better clean yourself up before you get home to wifey. And you'd better figure out who you are and what you want. Maybe you should listen to your cock." I looked down, and saw that in addition to the thick white strands of his cum clinging to my clothes, a dark, wet stain betrayed my own ejaculation.

Steve calmly tucked his softening cock into his pants, got into his car, and drove away.