Terry's Last Day At Work

“Oh, yeah, just like that, Terry, just like you’re doing…” she gasped. Her face flushed and she began to tremble like an overloaded engine. He strove to maintain the angle and rhythm he had been using. She let go his left forearm and slid her fingers over her clit. Her voice rose in a crescendo of orgiastic shouts as she went over the edge. “Ah—hhhaa—ahh—oh, God,Terry!” she screamed. “Oh, that’s—oh, fuck! Yeah! Do it! Give it to me—aaaah!OHHHH!” She squeezed him strongly and rhythmically. He took off running, banging it into her as hard and as fast as he could. The sensation he was chasing turned on him and caught him up; with a shout he pinned Sidonie to the blotter and came so hard he saw stars.

She looked up at him. Her eyes were dreamy, sated. Her pulse beat rapidly just below her breasts. Her heart had been going as quickly as his had been. He leaned forward to kiss her. As he straightened up he saw her eyes slide to her right, and turned his head to see what she was looking at.

Gavin was standing in the door of his office.

He’d heard the cliché all his life about your blood running cold, but hadn’t believed it until now. He pulled out of Sidonie, feeling his dick shrink to the size of a mouse, and backed up. He was stopped by the credenza and a filing cabinet, of course. There was no other way out of the office.

So disconcerted and discombobulated was he by the sudden appearance of Sidonie’s husband that it took a few seconds for him to observe that Gavin was dressed exactly like he was: sneakers and nothing else. When the hell had he gotten there? Had there been the squeak of hinges, the sound of a zipper, the chink of a belt buckle—anything? Maybe; but a few minutes ago, “The Stripper” could have been playing full-blast in the background and he wouldn’t have noticed.

Gavin Taulbe was stockily built, compensating with muscular bulk for what he lacked in height, and still in good condition for his age. The sparseness of hair on his torso and his sharp, angular cheekbones spoke of possible Native American blood somewhere in his family. He had brown hair fading to gray in a military cut, and light brown eyes like a tiger’s or a hawk’s. He had the rugged, hard-bitten look of the comic-book soldier, and was no more handsome than his wife was beautiful, but he had a very engaging smile, which made you forget this. He was wearing it now.

“Hey, can I time things or what?” he said. Sidonie was reclining still on Terry’s desk, with her feet resting, slender ankles crossed, in the seat of his chair. “I caught most of the second act, anyway.” He gave Terry a merry, complicit look, not quite a wink, as he entered the office and perched on a corner of the desk, laying a proprietary hand on his wife’s belly. “That’s my sweetheart,” he added. “She can come quietly if she absolutely has to—otherwise we could never go camping with anybody. But when she doesn’t have to…” Sidonie had her hand atop her husband’s and was tracing its bones with her fingers. “Looks like you were having a good time. Your long tall boy here has some good moves. Just as well he’s going back to—what’s that town in Louisiana? Lac du Miel?” Terry nodded. “I wouldn’t want him to become a habit with you.”

The interior window behind Terry’s desk was obscured a quarter of the way up with papers of one kind or another taped to the glass. He gave them a dirty look. Obviously there hadn’t been enough of them.

“I got what you wanted,” Sidonie said.

“Yeah, I know.”

Terry needed to pee badly; in fact, everything seemed to be ready to come out after the tension he’d just gone through. He took care of his business in the warehouse’s small hellhole of a bathroom, considering, as he did so, just letting himself out quietly and leaving the office to Sidonie and Gavin. But that was impossible. His clothes were on the credenza—and his car keys in his trouser pocket.

He returned to his office. She was half sitting up and Gavin was standing between her legs, kissing her. He was sporting a ferocious erection, which he’d had since he’d arrived. He was no more than ordinary length, but he had one of the thickest cocks Terry had ever seen, with a broad, sharply flanged head and a shaft gnarly with veins. It was almost scary-looking, like a weapon conceived by a fantasy illustrator. Below it his large balls hung encased in a pouch sheathed in hair a similar color to the hair on his head, only with a little more gray. Terry thought the guy must have enormous self-assurance, married to someone like Sidonie, who came close to being bigger than either of them, and did not even bother with the usual tall woman’s concession of not wearing tall shoes around her man. Not to mention his apparent comfort in being naked but for sneakers in front of a man who’d just finished fucking his wife…

Gavin had her breasts in his hands, flicking the nipples so that they stood up. She whimpered in pleasure. He nibbled softly at her left one. He released her right breast, raising an eyebrow at Terry in a classic want-some? gesture.

“C’mon, she likes it like that, with you and me both, you’ll see,” he said. Sidonie pushed her chest out and gave Terry a languorous look. There was more room on this end of the desk, where he already was, and he bent forward and took hold of her right tit. Obeying a decades-buried impulse, he drew her nipple between his lips, rolling it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. It crinkled and grew hard. She lay back again, stroking each of their heads. Next to him, Terry could feel the heat coming from Gavin’s body; from time to time they found themselves jostled together. He’d never been close to a man in any kind of sexual context and it made him nervous, but he tried to concentrate on the body of the woman. He could smell the sweat and soap-scents and perfume coming from both of them. His cock began to twitch to life again, and she reached under him and found it. Her hand, with its strong and expert grip, lined with a layer of sweat and precum, seemed to be as good a place to thrust into as any. She began breathing hard, rubbing her thighs against Gavin and moving her hips trying to align her pussy with his cock. Gavin quit nuzzling her breast and moved southward, hooking Terry’s chair into place with a foot and settling down in it.

He lovingly tormented her for a few minutes by licking and putting little brands on the insides of her thighs, but soon he settled down to business. Terry played with the breast Gavin had abandoned. Out the corner of his eye, he could see the movement of Gavin’s head as he enthusiastically licked and sucked at the mixture of fluids coming out of Sidonie, uttering little murmurs and growls of delight. At one point he wiped his mouth quickly on her inner thigh and looked up at Terry with a smile.

“You must lead a clean life, kid,” he said. “You taste great.”

It just went to show you, Terry thought, you couldn’t judge a book by looking at its cover. He wouldn’t have taken Gavin for a man with a taste for cream pie in a million years. Sidonie nudged Gavin’s head back down and he continued to eat her out.

She tensed and shivered. “Oh, Gavin, that feels so goddamned good…” Her grip on Terry’s cock became firmer. “Oh, yeah, Gav, that’s it. Right…there…right…there…oh, right…oh, yeah, right…th—UHHHHHHHHHHHH…!” She came hard, roaring like a big cat, scissoring her husband’s head without mercy or consideration. Terry sucked her tit deep into his mouth, and pinched the other mindlessly, not caring if he was hurting her; then when he felt the white-hot wave of ecstasy uncoil in his balls and the center of his cock, he just had to see…he let go and looked down just in time to see his cock shoot forward in her hand like a launched missile, and then ropes of cum spurt onto her forearm, flank, and the blotter.

She relaxed her legs, lying limply and exhaustedly on the desk. Gavin raised his head, slightly out of breath. She had released Terry’s cock, so he unbent, cautiously. Gavin sank back in the chair. Terry reached over him and grabbed a packet of fresh shop rags off the top of the filing cabinet, broke it open, and handed one to her.

“Thanks,” she said, and sitting up, used it to clean herself and the blotter, which was now illegible in many places, at least two months down. Gavin gave him a wry look. Terry gave it right back at him. He was pretty sure Gavin had counted on cleaning Sidonie up himself. With his tongue. Tough, Terry thought.

“Be right back,” she said, and she hopped off the desk and strode, clicking in her high shoes, across the warehouse to the bathroom. Terry sat on the corner of the desk. He noticed that of the three of them, Gavin alone was left standing, as it were. He sat in a relaxed mode, wide-legged, holding his thick, formidable-looking cock in a light, affectionate grip.

“She’s paranoid about UTIs,” he remarked.

“And she’s going there? Christ, that bathroom is a pit. I don’t think anybody’s cleaned it since they put up the building.”

“You’d be wrong about that,” Gavin said. “Graciela—that’s the daughter-in-law—came in here once to change Corbin. Marched right out and took him to the Diamond Shamrock across the street. The next day she came here with a couple of Mexican women that work for her, and they tried. Man, did they try. But they couldn’t make much of an impression on it.”

As Gavin was talking, his light-brown eyes wandered over Terry’s body with open interest and appreciation. It made him nervous. Other men had checked him out before, but not when they were sitting naked and erect less than five feet away. He knew Gavin was an artist, and hoped that it was mostly with an artist’s eye Gavin was seeing him. It would help, Terry thought, if he wouldn’t keep playing with it while he was looking at him.

“Relax, son,” Gavin said. “I never raped anybody in my life.”

“I could relax better if you wouldn’t call me ‘son,’” Terry snapped at him.

“The older you get, the younger everybody looks,” Gavin said. “You’ll see.” There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that. In fact, Terry wasn’t sure what to say to anything. He and Gavin had spoken before, and they had conversed during the lunch, but that had all been before…before all this had gone down. Somehow, So how about those Texans? didn’t seem suitable anymore.

Sidonie came back, looking fresh and rested. She leaned over her husband and gave him a kiss before sitting down on the credenza. Terry could see through the curtain of her hair, the dance of their tongues. Gavin’s cock twitched. Terry got three more Cokes out of the mini-fridge and handed them around, thinking that he would need to get some more before Monday…except that he wouldn’t be there Monday; he’d be on his way to Lac du Miel. The three of them gulped down Coke and seemed to pause simultaneously. They all looked at each other. The silence in the room seemed to lengthen unbearably.

“So, how about those Texans?” Terry said.

Sidonie and Gavin looked at him incredulously for a beat, and then all three of them were laughing.

“A lot you care,” Sidonie said. “You’re going to have the ‘Aints to root for.”

“You got any paper in here?” Sidonie’s husband asked suddenly. Terry looked around the office elaborately. The room was full of paper; a regular firetrap, it was. Then he understood--paper. There were some paper pads around, but they all had lines on them. Terry dashed next door to Sidonie’s office where the copier was and got some copier paper, which he handed to Gavin.

“It’s the best we can do,” he told him.

“That’s fine,” Gavin said. “That’ll work.” He had found a No. 2 pencil somewhere and a clipboard to back his paper up with and soon was busily sketching away. Terry noticed that his condition had in no way abated. Sidonie was looking over his shoulder as he drew. What she saw made her smile. Gavin handed the sketch to Terry.

Gavin had a gift for caricature, and had very quickly produced a rough image of Terry from the waist up, straining forward, every muscle in his body defined. His mouth was twisted up in a strange way, his eyes squinted half-shut, not seeing much…This had to be a view of him as Gavin had seen him from outside his office window—coming in Sidonie.

“Um, thanks. Jesus, do I really look that stupid? I look like I don’t have a brain in my head.”

“You came ‘em all out!” Sidonie said. Terry folded the paper up and gave it to her.

“Could you stick this in my pants pocket? I don’t want to leave it behind. They’re on top the fax…How does he look?”

“Oh, like he’s being tortured,” she replied with a grin.

“He hasn’t gotten off yet,” Terry pointed out. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“Nice of you to be concerned, dude. Want to help me out?” He put his hand on his cock again and tilted it in Terry’s direction rather as if he’d gotten himself a beer out of a cooler and were asking Terry as if he wanted one too. His eyes crinkled at the corners. Terry thought he might be kidding, but after the cream pie scenario, and the way Gavin had been eyeing him earlier, he wasn’t sure anymore.

“I don’t think so.” He felt his face burn for the second time that afternoon. He was annoyed at himself. He’d turned down guys before. Gavin smiled, and shrugged. If Terry wasn’t interested, Sidonie was. She got down from the credenza and knelt between her husband’s parted legs, having first dropped a couple of shop rags on the floor to keep the ever-present concrete dust off her knees. Terry wished he could see just how she was able to stretch her mouth around that thick fuck-weapon. Amazingly, Gavin was able to sketch while she luxuriously slurped and toyed with his cock, although he had to hold his improvised sketchpad at what looked like an uncomfortable angle.

In a few minutes he handed Terry another drawing, the most sluttish-looking representation he could imagine any man making of his wife: Sidonie sitting on the desk with her long legs akimbo, that come-fuck-me-again smile on her face; you could see the juice glistening on her engorged pussy. Terry, like most people who could not draw a straight line without a straightedge, wondered how in the hell he did it.

“Is this for me?”

“It can be. You want it?”

Terry looked at Sidonie, who had looked up from working on her husband’s cock and seemed to be about to say something, but changed her mind.

“I’ll take good care of it,” he said. He folded it up loosely, went around the pair and put it with the other in his trouser pocket, casting about in his mind for a good place to store it once he got to the family home in Lac du Miel. His mother would take it on herself to tidy his room sometimes…He’d deal with it, he thought, if it meant buying a safe of some kind. Gavin’s reputation was still pretty much local. It remained to be seen if Terry had merely a reminder of a unique afternoon or something that could be worth a bit of money someday.

Gavin tossed the clipboard onto the credenza and leaned back in the chair, obviously enjoying his wife’s attention. Terry was starting to get hot looking at them. He watched his cock fatten, feeling vulnerable. Gavin raised her head, and leaning down, whispered something in her ear.

Sidonie looked around. “Hey, Terry, we’re not leaving you out,” she said.

“That’s OK. You look like you’re having fun.”

“Oh, we are.” Sidonie got up and mounted Gavin reverse-cowgirl fashion, sighing in pleasure as her reddened labia stretched around her husband’s thick shaft, and Terry wondered just where they proposed to fit him in. “Move over a little on the desk, you need to be more in the center.” Terry moved over. “Come forward a little.” He was now sitting on the edge of the desk; more leaning up against it than sitting on it. The couple occupying the chair was very close to Terry, and they nudged themselves into a position that was closer yet.

Sidonie leaned forward, resting one hand on Terry’s thigh; she took his rearing cock in the other hand. In a second she had it in her hot, mobile mouth. He’d known quite a few girls who would go down to please a guy, but not many who appeared to like sucking cock so much for its own sake. He liked the way her luscious, generous lips wrapped around it, and the illegal-looking smile she gave him when she took it out, and paused for a moment with the end of it resting on her tongue; he liked to see the way it looked emerging from her mouth and disappearing again. Gavin had his head at an angle, trying to see as much as he could; this Terry tried to ignore. He’d forgotten doing the same thing when she’d been sucking Gavin minutes before.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…” Sidonie was slowly and sensually grinding herself on her husband’s cock, up and down and around. He reached around to caress her nipples, down to stroke her clit. She moaned around Terry’s cock. He could feel the vibration in her throat.

“Like it, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Ever have it sucked this good before?”

“Not that I can think…” Sidonie’s nose was nestled in his pubic hair. Terry had been endowed with length proportionate to his height. What else could he possibly answer while she had her throat muscles constricting his cockhead? She raised her head and once again he saw his shaft emerge, glistening with saliva, from between her lips.

“She ever done this to you before?”

“No! Honest to Christ—it’s the first—I mean, except earlier, when she—before I—“

“Relax, man.” (How?) Gavin sat back and flexed his hips under Sidonie. She moaned again. “I believe you. You’ve got a fine-looking instrument there, by the way.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Sidonie released his cock from her mouth, but kept her hand on it. “We would like to run an experiment,” she said.

“What are you going to do?”

“Hey, just flow with it. Stand up.” Terry lifted his ass off the desk. “Close your eyes.”

Terry did as he was told, and his lower body was embraced gently but firmly in what felt like a group hug and Sidonie’s warm mouth closed on his cock again. He stood with his legs a little apart, feeling both Sidonie’s and her husband’s legs pressed against his, and rested his hands on Sidonie’s shoulders; it helped him to keep his balance, since balance depends so much on visual reference. Her warm, heavy hair brushed over his hands and wrists.

He felt the couple shift their weight in the chair, which creaked in response, and Sidonie backed her mouth off his cock. The cold air hit it. Then he felt the sensation of lips and tongue on it once more, in an impossible way, in light of what he assumed he was experiencing—it was as if his shaft was being licked from both sides.

His eyelids flew up, and he saw that this was, in fact, happening; the two of them seemed to be kissing each other with his cock in the middle. Their mouths, meeting over his shaft, slid in concert from base toward the tip, tongues lashing over and under it in a sort of carwash effect. It was the oddest and most incongruous thing he’d ever seen, and it felt so insanely good that he did not have the heart to tell them to quit.

“Is this the—experiment?”

She and Gavin worked their way further down. When they got to the end of Terry’s cock, she gave him a devilish little half-smile and angled her face away from it, looking up at him.

“Part of it,” she said.

And her husband took up where she had left off.

He looked as if he were partaking of a pleasure that had been long denied him; and although he seemed a little rusty at first, (only at first!) it was obvious he knew what he was doing. Part of Terry’s mind was screaming, No, this is a mistake, this is not me, this is not what I do; the rest of it was growling, Mmmmmm, yeahhhhhhhhh… and he quit thinking and let himself enjoy Gavin enjoying his cock. He closed his eyes again. Presently Gavin took his mouth away. It had felt so good; he opened his eyes, about to protest. Gavin leaned back in the chair and Sidonie took over. The two of them took turns, passing him back and forth between them; a couple of times they varied this by giving him the carwash treatment again. When he closed his eyes, he lost track of who was doing it to him. He felt his nerves burn and his breath began to come short. He groped in front of him and came in contact with the muscular shoulders of both of them; Sidonie’s narrower and only slightly less firm than her husband’s; he felt the bristly surface of Gavin’s military haircut and her thick, wavy mane. As the charge of pleasure built again, he obeyed the ancient directions from back and ass muscles and thrust his hips forward enthusiastically, grabbing the head of whomever was sucking him and unmercifully fucking them in the mouth—they could handle it! They were both working on him when he said, “One or the other of you—I’m—I need to—“