Winning Favor

The cart I was pushing had grown a lot lighter. For that I was thankful. I pushed it past the cubicles I'd just visited, ducking my head to avoid the familiar eyes that glanced my way. It wasn't that they weren't friendly people. Every single person in the office always smiled at me or offered a greeting when they saw me. The politeness was actually suffocating. Maybe because I knew most of it was just a courtesy. It's just what was expected. So people did it.

I glanced at the clock in the room just before pushing my cart into the hallway near the end of the floor. The day was almost over. Just thirty more minutes. I could make it. I knew ways to take my time getting the cart downstairs. I saw the elevators but kept pushing the cart past. The bathrooms were just ahead. I parked the empty cart just beside the door and headed inside the men's room.

The row of mirrors were staring back at me. The room was impeccable, just like the rest of the office building. Little plants sat beside the sinks. The white tile floor gleamed in the florescent lighting. Even in here I felt out of my league. I saw that no one was at the urinals nor were either of the two stalls occupied. I chose my favorite stall at the end and went inside.

It crossed my mind to sneak a cigarette but I quickly waved the ridiculous thought away. It was almost time to go home. No reason to make waves. It hadn't gone well before and I'd caused my mother enough grief. I'd wait the day out. It's why I was in here to begin with. I didn't have to use the bathroom, but I unfastened my belt and my khakis and shoved them to my ankles. If anyone walked in, appearances needed to be maintained.

I sat on the toilet and immediately fetched my phone from my pants. The volume needed to stay off. Still, I searched for a dumb little game to keep myself busy. Fifteen minutes, maximum, that's all I needed. I selected a puzzle game and began connecting dots without crossing the colored lines.

Part of me always felt guilty. It was a good job, decent benefits. It wasn't exactly easy work like I thought, but I wasn't in a position to choose. My mother and my aunt got me here, and I needed it. I was staying clean and out of trouble. That was the most important thing. It was just so... mundane. Lifeless. I couldn't stay here forever. Sitting there, I couldn't for the life of me think of where I'd even go, or what I would do.

I grew bored of the dot game very quickly. I swiped through my phone looking for another way to stay occupied while trying to not actually look at the time on my screen. Social media was pointless. I didn't visit any of those sites much in my own time. I browsed some pictures, but that only led me to think of the past, which I didn't need.

Inevitably, my mind started to drift toward darker things. Being in this building made them feel even naughtier. I opened a tab, made sure that my phone wasn't connected to the wifi here, and punched the words into the search bar. Familiar sites appeared. The images flooded the screen. A dirty sensation slithered through my entire body.

Even this had became casual, but no less thrilling. I'd done the same thing just hours earlier in the courtyard at lunch. Here I felt safer to peruse the lewd links and questionable websites. It started like usual, with pictures and short clips of women. Smooth bodies and bouncing parts widened my eyes. I looked at them longingly, wishing I knew what it felt like.

My eyes lingered on a pale woman with black hair. She had to be my age, early twenties or so. I felt an ache just staring at her. Alluring eyes stared back at me while she cupped her pillowy breasts. I could practically feel the nipple she pinched, right in my fingertips. The camera panned down her narrow waist, which belied the thick curves below.

I blinked and moved on. There was no use wishing. I shook my head. Only minutes had passed and it was already happening. My fingers tapped away, and the forbidden feeling grew heavier inside of me. The images and videos began to change. Before even sitting down, I knew I'd wind up here.

Hard flesh replaced the supple curves. I drank it all in. Muscles, broad carved chests, hair, tan lines, firm smooth flesh... it was all to my taste. Nothing was too strange or deviant. Huge knuckled fists pulled at the impossibly thick cocks before my eyes. Shining red helmet tips seemed to protrude right from the screen of my phone. Some of them stood straight, some sagged in front of wrinkled dangling balls.

I felt my own dick awaken. I was suddenly aware of the underwear that fixed it in place. I couldn't contain the arousal looking at all those bodies. My shaft tried to lift, straining against the fabric. The resistance was even more delightful. My hand was already sliding down. I had to feel it. Just a touch. I lifted my plain blue shirt and fanned my fingers out.

A breath escaped my lips when my fingers slid over the silky bulge. I felt the lacey edges that hugged too tightly into the skin of my balls. I caressed my swelling shaft through its satin pocket. An unseen electric trail was traced right through the thin garment onto the sensitive skin beneath by my trembling fingertips.

I looked down at the panties I wore. Seeing the way the jet black material cupped my little bulge made my cheeks flush warm. The panties had even lifted off of my pelvis just slightly, pulled from the surging erection that was trying to form. I slid my finger through the strap that rode high around my hip. I could feel the fabric pull and slice between my ass so pleasantly. The sensation caused me to arch my back and sit straighter, feeling my cold ass cheeks spread on the seat of the toilet.

The bathroom door opened. In a silent panic, I nearly fumbled my phone to the floor but caught it against my leg. My thumb hammered the screen and swiped the windows away. While the person that had entered began relieving themselves at the urinal, I watched a parallel universe in my head in which my phone clattered into view on the floor, with throbbing cocks and hairy men on its display.

I blinked the horrific thoughts away. As the person washed their hands, I stood and began to pull up my pants. The khakis slid over my bare ass. My velvet little pouch was nestled back into place. I zipped my secrets away, wishing for the day to finally be over.

When I stepped out of the stall, the person was gone. I was left alone to stare at my reflections in the mirrors. A short guy in a pale blue dress shirt and khakis stared back. I chewed my lip. Even cleaned up I looked awkward. I shook my head quickly to one side, flipping the long inky black bangs from my right eye. I noted the absence of my nose ring. I didn't look so square without it. Mom didn't like it. Maybe I could leave it out. I noticed that I'd forgotten to tuck in my shirt. I shrugged. It was the end of the day. Surely no one would mind.

I pushed my cart into the elevator and selected the floor to the mailroom. It wasn't a huge building, but traveling to every square inch of it every day was exhausting. Hopefully, I'd be able to avoid any of the partners or paralegals long enough to make it it out on time today.

The doors split open and I made my way down another bland hallway. I entered the mailroom and groaned to myself. I had forgotten several of the newer paralegals had set up a table in the middle of the room and were busily flipping pages and stuffing files into boxes.

Still.

They'd been there all day. I kept my head down and returned my cart to it's spot near the far wall. I chanced a look at my phone and saw that there were only ten minutes left. I started to walk to my tiny desk in the side room when I heard my name called from the table.

"Oh, Pat!"

I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. The tall guy that helped Charlotte all the time had his hand up to flag me down.

"Y-yes?" I replied. I wasn't sure whether to address him as a sir or not.

The man gathered some papers from the table, stuffed them into a folder, and hurried across the room to me. I felt like cowering or backing away. He was really tall, made more evident by his willingness to stand very close to me.

"Would you mind doing me a favor?" He said.

There it was. I hoped ten minutes was enough.

"Um, I guess," I said.

He offered me the folder. "Could you make a single copy of these and run both up to your aunt? I think she forgot but she'll need them in the morning, and I'll be out of the office tomorrow."

It seemed awkward to not reach for the folder. I did, taking the documents from the guy's huge brown hand. A flash in my mind thought of the length of his fingers. I swatted the thoughts away.

"Sure...." I couldn't even remember the guy's name.

The tall man didn't notice.

"Thanks, Pat," he said.

He was walking off and out of the room before I could say anything else. I looked at the folder and sighed, but not loudly enough that the other drones would hear.

I listened to the hum of the copier, thankful that it was only a handful of pages and one copy of each. It would seem the attempts to go "paperless" were failing this place. When the machine finished, I separated the two copies with paperclips, made my way to the elevator, and stepped out onto the higher floor.

More worker drones sat at desks in odd places about the office. None of them looked to be in a hurry to go the way the tall guy was. They happily tapped their keyboards and sat in their hallway secretary desks and answered phones. None of them occupied the big offices. That was for their masters. My masters. I passed the partner's luxurious rooms, feeling like a mouse in a field with hawks soaring high overhead. The door to the far right corner office was open, and I stepped up to the threshold.

I pecked on the open door, hesitant to step too far inside. Aunt Charlotte glanced up from her computer screen and offered me a wooden smile. She waved me in.

"Hey, Pat," she said. "More mail?"

I shook my head. "No, um... the tall black guy said you'd need this?"

Charlotte made a face but smiled.

"Aaron," she said. "His name is Aaron and he's a lifesaver."

Charlotte took the folder from me, immediately opening it. She nodded a few times before spinning in her chair to stuff it in the suitcase behind her.

"And he's on point as usual," Charlotte said.

Charlotte rose to her feet and made a few clicks on her ergonomic mouse before reaching for her purse. I took that as my cue to duck out of the room, but before I could even turn for the door, Charlotte started talking again.

"Hey, I'm glad you're here, actually," my aunt said. "I need a huge favor from you."

My insides began to sink.

Charlotte turned to me and motioned toward the corner of the room near her huge bookshelf.

"Since you're young and full of vigor, do you think you could move those boxes down the hall for me?" She asked.

I glanced over at the stack of boxes. I counted eight, no... nine. They were full of papers, I knew. What else. Each were perfectly placed, two stacks of four, and had nice little cardboard lids on the them were beginning to cave under the weight of the documents inside.

"There's not many," Charlotte went on, selling the job to me. "They're case files from the Montgomery-Myers merger that went south a while back. Jennifer's leaving next week and Dennis is taking over the developments."

The names and details darted past me. I started to think of something nice to say. Charlotte was too quick. She was already cocking an eyebrow at me. The lawyer in her spotted the body language no doubt. The aunt in her could hear my thoughts.

"It's just down the hall, Pat," Charlotte said with a chuckle. "Dennis should be in there. He'll tell you what to do with them. Shouldn't take long. But... knock before you go in. I think he's finishing a conference call or something."

Charlotte fetched her purse from the desk. She dropped her phone into the bag, grabbed her suitcase, and approached me at the door. Watching her flip her long black hair over her shoulders, I started to envy her like always. The woman was a tigress in a pants suit, even at her age. She was as tall as I, though I felt even shorter in her proximity by the way she carried herself. Charlotte looked me over and offered me a tight smile.

"Chin up, Patrick," she said. "You're doing good. Don't start any bad habits."

My aunt leaned in and pecked me on the cheek. Just like that, she was walking down the hall, leaving me with only her lingering perfume.

I glanced through the huge window of her office at the sun, which was already retreating behind the skyscrapers far beyond. Though I wanted nothing more to be out of this building and away from the city, I knew the reality. The longer I moped, the later I'd get home.

I tried to snatch up the first box, quickly realizing my error when the heavy thing nearly toppled from the stack. I squatted low and hoisted it up to my chest. It crossed my mind to find a hand truck, but I knew that was all the way downstairs. I wanted to be done with this.

Trying not to stagger down the hall, I spotted many of the drones were beginning to leave. Of course. Charlotte had left for the day. When the partners left, the rest were soon to follow. I knew they'd be fucking gone by the time I finished lugging the stone tablets in the boxes from my aunt's office.

I had to set the box on the floor. Dennis's door was shut. I remembered what my aunt had instructed. I took a second to steady my breath. Then I pecked on the door as softly as I could manage.

"Yeah!" I heard a booming voice call.

I assumed that meant to enter. I eased the door open and peeked inside.

Dennis was standing behind his desk with his hands on his hips. He seemed to be attending a phone beside his computer. The tall guy downstairs... Aaron, was small compared to this man. I'd only met Dennis a few times. I'd passed him in the hall often. I'd never felt as small as when I was anywhere near him. Even as he stood there, he seemed to tower over the giant desk.

He turned to the side when I entered. I felt his gaze weighing down on me.

"Sorry, sir," I said. "My aunt... um, Ms. Morgan asked me to bring some boxes?"

Dennis regarded me coldly for a few seconds while I stood by awkwardly just outside the door. Then, his narrow eyes widened.

"Oh, right, Montgomery-Myers," he said in his baritone voice. "Bring 'em in, but pull the door to. I'm finishing up a call."

I swallowed. Dennis was reaching for the phone on his desk again. I had to interject.

"Uh, there's several boxes, sir," I blurted. "Where would you like them?"

Dennis glanced over toward the corner behind him.

"Uh, back there is fine," he told me.

One by one, I lugged the boxes down the hall into the huge man's office. For whatever reason, I tried not to look feeble carrying them, but by the fourth box I was sweating. I rolled my sleeves back in Charlotte's office. It was the end of the day after all. The process was made tedious by having to open and shut the door each time I passed through Dennis's office. He didn't seem to notice me much. His attention was on the voices blaring out from his desk.

By the time I carried the last box down the hall, I noticed that everyone on this floor had left. I cursed under my breath and pushed open Dennis's door. He was no longer on the phone, but looked to be busy with something on his computer. I noted that the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled to his elbow as well, exposing his hairy forearms. Good. Maybe this suit and tie thing wasn't as strict as my mother had made it out to be.

I stacked the last box with the others in the corner and stood by. I'd learned several unspoken rules around the place. One was not to leave situations like this without asking for more grunt work to do, for whatever reason. It might fly with my aunt, but that was different. I hoped that Dennis would turn around and acknowledge me, or tell me I was free to leave. For a long minute, I stood silently and watched him send an email. It was as if I weren't even there.

"I, uh, think that's the last of them, sir," I spoke up.

Dennis regarded me and the stack of boxes before rolling back in his chair and rising to his full height again. The man was well over six feet tall and made me feel like a fluttering blade of grass. He was also barrel chested and broad. The salmon colored dress shirt he wore looked as though it barely fit around his mountainous shoulders, and the tie he wore seemed a pitiful thing as well.

"It's Dennis," he told me, his eyes looking me up and down. "Too much of that sir shit is gonna make me feel like an old timer."

I watched him turn toward a small cabinet against the wall near the far end of his desk. It surprised me when he pulled out a bottle of amber liquid and a glass. He must have noticed the way I was watching him as he set the glass on the table and uncorked the bottle. His mouth made a small twitch that I took for a smirk.

"Just taking the edge off of the day," Dennis told me. "Do me a favor and don't tell your aunt. She doesn't have to be in front of a jury to give a damn good lecture."

I offered a weak smile, scratching my arm. I was combing my stupid brain trying to think of a decent way to ask him if I could leave.

Dennis held the glass up and motioned to me.

"I've got another glass, if you'd like a bite?" the huge man offered loudly.

I eyed the liquid, feeling a chord resonating from a cold place in my chest.

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I quit."

Dennis simply nodded and drained the glass. He quickly poured another, rubbing his balding head. I licked my lips, but stood by silently waiting.

"You Sandra's boy?" I heard his booming voice say.

"Yes," I answered.

Dennis turned toward me, swirling the glass in his huge hand. He took a few steps, jingling change around in the pockets of his slacks. He was a few feet away, but his presence pressed at the very air in the room. I could hear his breaths, heavy gusts that filled his chest and rumbled back through his throat.

"She's a good gal," Dennis went on. "Hated what happened with your pop. I know you were too young, but I always enjoyed being around him. Had a hell of a drive on the green."

Dennis sipped from the glass and glanced down at the floor. I saw his eyes squint. Just as I was about to muster the words to bid him farewell and get out of there, Dennis spoke again.

"Well, shit," He said. "Do me one more favor before you cut out, Pat."

I was beginning to hate the f-word.

Dennis pointed a long fat finger toward the stack of boxes in the corner.

"Grab me the one that's dated for twenty sixteen," Dennis said. "The one on the bottom right there. Think I'm gonna look over a few things before running off tonight."

I successfully fought down every bit of negative body language by immediately reaching to unstack the heavy boxes. Restacking the first three just to the side, I bent low before reminding myself to squat and save my already aching back. I found the handholds and stood, turning to set the box on Dennis's desk.

"Over here fine?" I asked, sliding the box on the open end of the desk.

When Dennis didn't immediately answer. I turned and looked to him for his approval. The huge man stared at me, his mouth partially open as if he were thinking.

His eyes bored right through mine.

"What the hell is that, if I may ask?" Dennis asked.

The words hit me like a lance in the chest. I froze, unsure of what Dennis was saying or why he'd addressed me in such a demanding tone.

"I'm... I'm sorry?" I said.

Dennis still stared right through my eyes. He stepped closer to the desk, pulling his hand from his pocket. I stood still, even though I felt the need to leap out of the door and scramble down the hallway. My eyes darted to the box, looking for something on the desk I might have screwed up when I placed it there.