One Offs: Random Rambles of a Crazed Fool

Meeting 🍌

He wants to fuck..

He sits at his desk with legs spread wider than normal so his swollen taint can rub against the seat cushion. The rough edge of the damned thing presses so deliciously in the area.

The monitor shows 16:46. Fuuuck.. he curses and hisses when the seam of his stiff, scratchy jeans hit the abused piercing just right.

His dick bulges and presses against the seam of his zipper. Soft moans bubble in his throat; he is about to let them go, but the Teams' display pops up on the bottom right corner of his screen.

One would think being pulled into an impromptu meeting would make one come to their senses, right? Wrong. He doesn't care. It's almost like a game to him at this point because he has a love/hate relationship with his job.

But there is one solace in all of this - he squirms really wanting to do more, pull out and toss one off in the faces [cameras] of his lousy coworkers - the boss's boss's boss. That man rarely joins them and it is always a surprise when Derrick Wavers does.

Derrick has a deep and velvety voice that he would love to listen to.. He'd like to hear commands, nasty talk, and sweet nothings.

His eyes scan the cameral roll. Derrick is there, and it seems that the big boss is looking at him.. directly at him.. like Derrick knows how much of a "naughty slut" he pretends to be.

His balls are tight.. so tight. He squirms more, spreading his legs as far as hooking a leg over the arm and leaning back a little. Delicate fingers trace the line of his zipper with a heavy hand. He tries to keep his face steady as he hears to the higher ups drone on about stupid changes he has to adhere to that aren't helping him or his lower level coworkers in the long run.

He double checks his mic is off and let his hand trail between the waistband of his jeans and his tummy. It is smooth as the day he was born. He prefers that look, due to looking at too many XXX comics and mangas. On a rare occasion, he leaves a tuff of pubs just above his cock like a little wirey hat or bad hair day.

His tip leaks when he decides to free himself. Fuck, if he isn't getting really dangerous, but the mandatory camera on is angled at his face and neck. Anything lower - everyone in attendance would sue him for sexual harassment.

Fingers wrap around his shaft when Derrick starts talking. The deep baritone sends him to an eargasm paradise that only he enjoys.

'You think I don't know what you are doing, Baby Boi?'

That deep southern draw of Mr. Sexiest Smile of Texas is all apart of his imagination as his delicate fingers curl around his cock. This is the furthest he's gone with doing anything while working. A small work appropriate smile graces his lips.

'Sir' he mouths, covering it so no one can see it.

'Look at me when you address me, Baby Boi. Haven't you learned a thing I've taught you? Hm? Do I,' Derrick looks at him intensely as his voice gets more stern, 'need to punish you, darlin'?'

He speeds up his stroking. Using his other hand, he reaches for the piercing to press against the swollen flesh.

'Nah-ah, Baby Boi. Not without your Sir's permission.'

Derrick's voice is sooth, sultry, and wraps him up in a world of tingles, shooting all over his body. Keeping his eyes on the camera, he arches back slightly, still making sure he is work appropriate, as he bites his lip.

'Don't you cum. Don't you fucking cum until I say so, pretty baby. I want that orgasm on my count and mine alone.'

Derrick's voice gets lower, closer, just at his ear. 'Who do you fucking belong to?'

He strokes himself faster, getting closer and closer to that edge.

Derrick on the screen continues to talk about boring policy changes, but his eyes scream commands. 'Tell me, Baby Boi, who owns you..'

He can't help it now; his head hangs back as his hand moves faster and faster. He holds his free hand up to his mouth.

'You, Sir. Please.. Please.. I want to cum..'

Pressure increases in the pit of his belly. Just like he practiced, his inner muscles clinch around what would be a cock - if he had one to shove deep inside him.

'Oh.. Do you now? How about you beg for it? Make me forgive you being a bad boi..'

'Siirrr..'

Derrick's face moves from the shared screen PowerPoint to a small display that highlights every time he talks.

'Siiirr..' he moans out as he turns his head to the side. He can't stand it any longer. The camera goes off.

'Please.. Sir. Let your Baby Boi cum.. I need to..'

His head phones come off. With a quick paranoid glance, he makes sure the mic is still off.

'Baby Boi.. touch your pretty guiche ring for me.

Yeah.. Just like that.

Harder, Baby Boi..

Once more.

Is my darlin' ready to cum?'

He cries out, panting, struggling to keep his orgasm at bay. He sees the screen and Derrick is back on the main display again. That big smiley face and killer dimple on the right side.

'Please, Daddy..'

'Cum.'

His toes curl as he releases all over himself. A giant spurt lands on the desk and splashes the screen, in a slash of spunt, covering Derrick's face.

'Fuck, Dad-dee,' he chuckles, feeling not even close to sated but the edge is gone.

In reality, he turns back on his camera and pops on his headphones. He listens to the last of whatever, knowing full well all of this could've been an email. Slowly, he reaches for cleansing wipe and wipes down his screen and desk, leaving himself for later. He plans on showering and taking care of himself more thoroughly.

The meeting ends with a string of chat "Thank yous," but a message preview stops him, causing his hands to shake.

Wavers, Derrick N: Was it that good for you, Baby Boy?