Stock Room Ladder

The following is a quasi-true story. In fact, it is a Holiday one that smells like Santa's White Christmas coffee. I am 30 feet up completely naked; well not completely, I have my green Fred's Great Coffee apron on. My shaved smooth bubble ass is puckering with both cheeks against splinter-rich plywood as I lay on my back gazing at the elephant skin ceiling. My clothes are at the bottom of the ladder in an empty Santas White Christmas coffee box. I am fucked and fired if anyone came back into the stock room. I know everyone is too slammed with holiday customers to come do it though. This wretched stock room of coffee beans and tiny Christmas decor: I mean, this musky cardboard infested garage of cold cement floors and plywood shelves is my second home.

My boss, the highest manager, pinched my ass last week and I ignored it. He is this alpha male gay rights political activist. I have never kissed a man or done anything sexual with one. That pinch was the first male sexual contact and he is lucky I did not report him for sexual assault. The only reason I refrained was because of my erection that lasted for 20 minutes after the pinch. The assistant manager is his boyfriend and took notice of the pinch. It occurred when I was bent over stocking rolls of receipt tape under the register. He didn't seem angry about his lover's transgression on my right ass cheek and I hustled back to my second home. Now Here: This ultra quiet stockroom. Hidden away from the holiday mobs and a pathetic and short Christmas playlist that could put you to death from boredom.

Last year when I turned 21, I used to get naked and go out in the middle of the woods after a night of drinking. My bare ass would shimmy under the moon light. The cool gusts of Georgia's ocean breeze would molest my feminine tall and thin body like the dangling of chilled curtains. The excitement of getting caught by whomever lurking in the darkness was the sexual thrill. But I went where nobody would go and felt safe. But here. In the middle of a Saturday evening just one vicious shopping week before Christmas, naked as a Jay Bird and up high as one too; studying the ugly gray a/c ducks bolted to the ceiling above, I was a sitting duck.

"Jake, where the fuck are you?"

My boss is calling out. I didn't even hear the squeak and slam from the only front entrance door. My boss has muscular forearms and a thick tan neck. He has a military buzz cut and shiny black glasses. His boyfriend looks like a chubbier version of him. Both of them are below as I hide on the highest shelf in the stock room.

"I am up here having my coffee break, John," I said. I shiver naked and cold. The only warmth is the stabbing of the splinters under me.

"It is a liability to have you up there, get your ass down here now," John said.

I spill my head over the side up to my chin and look down. "Can I have some privacy?"

"Privacy for what? Get down here now. We need you to bring out some boxes and help in the front for a bit," John said.

John's voice is exhausted. The assertiveness is there but not as scary. His boyfriend Charles just squints at me while he holds a clipboard of shit for me to do.

"I did something stupid," I said.

"I don't care. No more talk. Get down here now," John said. He peaks into the box with my clothes in it.

"I am naked, guys," I said. "I am sorry. I do it to relieve stress I guess."

John snaps into a crimson color flesh and shows his big white teeth like a growl.

"Oh boy," Charles said. "You did it now Jake. Damn. Damn. Damn."

"You are fired," John said. His voice broke into a millions pieces of exhaustion and horniness.

"Please John. Don't fire me. I will come down and work hard. I promise," I said. "I will work hard, man, men, trust me."

I am on my knees as both men can see a cheap green apron dangle from my neck barely obscuring my hairless nude torso. I am opening my mouth and raising my eyebrows as I stare into John's scowl. His scowl softens like a worn out baseball mitt. Turning around with my bare bubble ass wobbling in the thin stock room air is the hardest thing ever. I cannot see either man anymore and just hear the ladder yelling at me in squeak language. As I proceed to about four feet from the floor my mouth spills out a few sentences. "My bottom is peppered with splinters," I said. "It sucks. This wood is cheap shit. I am stupid."

"Hold still," John said. The second of his pinches missed a splinter. Instead it was deep between my cheeks. My cock hardened in front of Charles.

My naked bottom is level to John's perverted leering eyes. He pinches my ass cheeks removing one splinter at a time. He then slides his entire right hand between my ass cheeks so his cold watch band presses against my flesh. I perch my bubble ass on his arm as he leads me down. He stops me on the last step and palms the back of my neck forward through two rungs. His right hand fondles my inner ass cheeks. I hear his zipper scream and soft mumbling of incoherent words. His large curved cock slides into my ass while I hang onto the ladder. I waltz with the ladder and stare at an unopened box with a ten digit number on it. I keep reading 3948303032 over and over while I waltz with the ladder.

"I get some if you get some. This is bullshit," Charles said. Charles ears are tormented by the echoes of my ass smacking against John's pelvis.

"Ohhhh I needed this. Fuck work," John said. "Oh Merry Christmas for sure."

I watch Charles lock the stock room door. The room pressurizing like a nuclear submarine submerging. I can hear the faint Christmas playlist haunt the exterior of the cement walls.

All of us are now using flattened cardboard sheets in the corner as a mattress. I am the only one nude. My manager's both talk to their walkie talkies with their hard cocks drawn like swords above their pulled down pants. The apron holds on to my neck and waist for deer life. Charles is speaking to me and then off to the walky-talky, switching both voices from heavy breathing and soft commands to me while grabbing my thick brown hair than back to directing the employees out front. I kiss the head of his cock and swallow the rest.

"I want a promotion and a raise," I said. The sentence sounded like I was at the bottom of a pond. His cock kept slapping my tongue from completing vowel sounds.

John's rock hard wet cock disappears in my jiggling ass. I smell Santas White Christmas coffee and hear Jingle Bells why both men scream in flesh slapping freedom. My flesh. My bosses come all over my face and ass cheeks. The cardboard below looks like a sticky Jackson Pollock painting. They zip up and tell me to get dressed. It is time to sell some coffee!