The Kitchen Proposition

"You trying to seduce my wife?" Mr. Cross whispered. "I thought I told you to fill those glasses with ice?"

Steven jumped. The man had snuck up right behind him, pinning him to the counter without making a sound.

"I'm not--definitely not" Steven stammered. The thought had never crossed his mind. He loved his new wife, and Mr. Cross was his wife's new boss. No way he'd be chasing after another man's woman, especially the wife of a man who could fire Marie.

"Don't lie to me, boy," Mr. Cross said. His thick fingers slithered over Steven's thighs and up to the waistband of his pants. "I know your type. You come out here in your linen shirt and designer jeans showing off your tight ass and long legs. You think I don't know what you're up to?"

Cross had a reputation for forcefulness, but this accusation was ridiculous. Of course he'd been talking to the man's wife. It was a party and that's what people did. Still, Steven tried to be diplomatic and explain. It was the first party they'd been invited to in the month since he and Marie had moved to this new city.

"I was--I was--thinking this was a casual-dress party, so jeans were okay." Though pretty much everyone else at the party was in suits or business casual, unfortunately Marie hadn't told him there was a dress code.

Mr. Cross ignored the excuse and deftly popped the top button of Steven's jeans and forced a hand down the front of his pants, causing the new husband to gasp and struggle in vain against the man's advances.

"Such a tight body," Mr. Cross whispered in Steven's ear. "And an inviting bulge."

"Stop it." Steven pulled at Mr. Cross's wrist, but only succeeded in pulling his own pubic hairs the man had firm grip on. He tried in vain to get his wife's attention--maybe she knew how to handle her boss. But she was in the next room and not facing his direction.

"Go ahead," Mr. Cross said, now stroking a finger along the shaft of the trapped man's sex. "Call her over. Then you can explain to your wife--yes, to Marie what we were doing."

The audacity of the man. Steven had just been trying to help out in the kitchen, and Cross had put him in this strange position. He hadn't been trying to send flirty signals to anyone, but somehow this man had generated an erotic tension out of nothing. The press of his solid body against Steven's, his voice and breath close to Steven's ear, and his fingers' intimate movements were having an undeniable effect.

Steven stopped resisting for a moment, and Cross used that time to force his other hand into the back of Steven's jeans. It was a tight fit, and his fingers pressed hard into the flesh of Steven's buttocks.

In dismay, Steven glanced again through the doorway to the next room where his wife was, but she was still turned away and chatting with some other guests.

The man was impossible. Now both of his hands were busy, one spreading Steven's ass cheeks while a strong finger played with his opening there, the other gripping and squeezing his hardening cock. There was no way to resist the man's advances.

Marie had said that the man was a force of nature, and that in business he conquered whatever goal he set his mind to. Everything at the office was a testament to achieving excellence. Steven had gotten a brief but vivid impression of that the one time he'd stopped by the office, shortly after Marie had been hired. The man's handshake had gripped his, and his eyes seemed to look into his soul, appraising him in a moment and, in a gratifying way, approving of what he saw.

"He has to have the best of everything," Marie had commented later.

Mr. Cross only worked afternoons, Marie had said admiringly, getting done in half a day what most people needed two days to accomplish. She made a joke about the half-days at work, saying that his wife was a former beauty queen--apparently she'd been Miss South Carolina about ten years ago--so no wonder he didn't get out of bed and come to work early.

And now, while a party was going on in the next room, Steven wondered what exactly Cross hoped to accomplish with this perverted sexual advance. Was he just jealous about men coming on to his stunner of a wife? No doubt it happened a lot. So was he just marking his territory like an alpha male?

Groping another man in the kitchen was a weird way to do that. And now he'd forced Steven's pants halfway down his thighs, giving him freer access. He'd have to stop the man's hands before someone came in and discovered them.

"I'm pretty sure your wife will notice you're missing any minute now," Cross's voice crooned in his ear, while his hands continued their probing Steven's ass and cock. "And then she'll come looking for you here, wondering what's taking you so long."

"Yes!" Steven gasped, "So stop this right now and let me get my clothes back to normal. We'll just forget this happened."

"Ahhh, you don't understand," Cross replied. "I want her to find us like this. You with your pants halfway down your legs, your cock hard, and you obviously enjoying my attentions."

"No!" Steven said more loudly. "She trusts me and will know this is some strange game you're playing."

"Will she trust you after I tell her all the juicy details of our hot little affair?"

Steven was shocked to silence. After a moment he said, "What affair?!? There's no affair!"

Steven's voice was indignant at the mere suggestion. Since his marriage he had never had sexual thought about another woman, let alone a man.

"Oh, but we are," Mr. Cross continued. "I've been coming over to your house every day--every morning after Marie has left for work. I've been enjoying you in every possible position. I've fucked you on the sofa and with you on all fours in the dining room and in the bed you sleep in with your wife. I've let you suck my cock in the bathroom while I was showering after. Sometimes I even bring friends over and we take turns sharing your talented mouth."

"No," Steven groaned. None of that was true. But how could he refute it? Not only was he losing the battle of wits with this vicious man--his body was reacting the un-asked-for groping of his body and the perverting imaginings the man was putting into his mind.

"You can't deny it," Mr. Cross said. "Shhhh--notice your cock. Feel that hardness. Notice how your ass is opening to me. You love it, slut."

"No." It came out this time as a whisper.

Steven couldn't stop what was happening, but he also knew he shouldn't be enjoying it either. He should be repulsed by this man's advances, and he sure as hell shouldn't be getting off on this risky semi-public humiliation with his wife in the next room. But his hips were moving of their own accord, back and forth, fucking the finger embedded in his now-needy ass and desperately wanting the stroking of the hand gripping his cock.

"Let's see more of this hot body you've been flaunting." Mr. Cross tugged the jeans further down, past Steven's knees. The newly married man's eyes darted around to make sure no one was watching.

"Oh God," Steven moaned as his lower half was fully displayed. The kitchen area was semi-private, yet...

"Nice." Mr. Cross sat down beside Steven, his hand roaming over the man's naked flesh, exploring his hidden crevices and his prominent erection--and then spanking his bare bottom. "What do you say when someone pays you a compliment, slut?"

Steven lowered his head, refusing to answer.

"You say 'thank you'," Mr. Cross said, spanking him again. "Now say it!"

"Thank..." Steven supported his weight with his hands. He could barely stand with his legs weakening due to the pleasure. He could barely breathe. His thoughts flowed like molasses. "... Thank you."

"Your wife is watching, slut. Give her a wave."

"Oh my god," Steven thought. From the next room Marie was looking at him though the kitchen doorway. By his expression, she was unaware of what was happening just out of her field of view, as Steven's lower body was hidden by the high counter. He forced a smile to his lips, waved, and pretended to go back to filling up cups with ice.

"That's right, slut. Give her a nice wave." Mr. Cross said, while he continued to finger fuck and stroke the now-horny younger man. "Nothing happening in here. Just two men getting to know each other."

"Please," Steven begged. "Please stop before--"

Mr. Cross had grabbed a flat wooden spatula from the counter and brought down on Steven's firm bottom with a splat, leaving a red imprint.

He looked at his handiwork, and then brought the spatula down hard on Steven's other cheek, leaving a matching red mark.

"Beautiful ass," he remarked. When Steven didn't reply: "What do you say to compliments?"

"Thank you," Steven gasped. This couldn't be happening. Not here. Not with his wife in sight.

Mr. Cross probed at Steven's asshole with a thick finger. "And such tight little opening too," Mr. Cross said.

"Ugh--oh god--th-thank y-you." Steven's mind whirled. The finger poking into his opening made him quiver with excitement, yet he knew he shouldn't be feeling that way.

"Does Marie fuck you there?" Mr. Cross asked. "Does she use a big strap-on dildo? I bet you love it up the ass. Slut."

"No--no she doesn't," Steven stammered. He wasn't that kind of man. And Marie wasn't that kind of woman.

"But you love it. You love it up the ass, don't you Steven. Don't you--you hot-blooded slut?"

The thick finger wormed its way up his bottom more fully, and then a second one joined it. The sensations forced the new truth from Steven's tightly clenched lips. "Yes. Yes--I love it up ... there."

"Good," Mr. Cross said.

"Now here's what we're going to do. You will leave my wife alone, and I will leave your wife alone. But you will be mine."

Steven's mind slowly absorbed what the man was proposing.

"I'll be over tomorrow morning," Mr. Cross continued, now with two fingers fully up his rear passage and the fingers of his other hand wrapped around his turgid cock. "And I expect you ready for me. Showered, naked, and ready to ... whatever I feel like doing to you."

Oh god no. This was madness. How would he hide such a thing from his wife? And yet he couldn't deny how the thought of being used by this forceful man turned his insides to erotic electricity and his cock to throbbing need.

"Ugh--yes. Yes, sir." Steven's voice was raspy and his chest heaved. His body was sweating and his lips and even his nipples felt full.

"I haven't given you permission to come yet," Mr. Cross warned.

"I can't help it." Steven couldn't--he desperately wanted to orgasm from this man's attentions.

"You'd better figure out a way." Mr. Cross slowed his fingers and withdrew them from Steven's anus, his other hand released his cock, and he stepped away.

Steven's behind felt desperately empty and his front desperately full. He reached into the cooler and grabbed a handful of ice. He braced himself and then cupped it over his crotch, hoping that would work. The cold was a shock. A painful shock.

After several moments, the need to come passed. He held the cold ice tightly to his groin until he shivered.

"That's good, my boy," Mr. Cross said. "I'll be over tomorrow."

"When--when will you be over?" It was an effort to force it out. Steven managed one word to each breath.

"As soon as your wife has left for work."

Steven knew he would be ready.

* *