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Out of Sight
🕑 Added 2023-06-26 17:59:02 +0000 UTCThis story came off of the back of a conversation with one of my awesome patrons who has a serious suit fetish, which I am totally on board with.
I hope you guys enjoy this office based tale! Let me know in the comments!
Russell Klein had spent most of his life knowing how good he looked. In high school, everyone worshipped him; in college, everyone wanted to sleep with him; in his twenties and thirties, everyone wanted to pin him down into a relationship, and those who didn’t were happy to settle for his cock.
Russell was smugly confident in how damn good he looked. At 6’3, he had broad shoulders, impressive furry pecs, a flat furry stomach, thick muscular thighs, and a tight bubble butt that looked almost obscene in his tailored suit pants. His crowning glory was his thick, uncut cock and the bulge in his suit pants got just as much attention in the office as his butt.
The main person whose sole focus was consistently on Russell was Dean Luka. Since his first day at the law firm, Dean had been besotted by Russell’s handsome features, incredible physique and droolworthy bulge.
“Morning Russell,” Dean said with his biggest grin as he passed his favourite god in the hallway.
Russell smiled, as he always did, but said nothing and kept walking.
“Today’s the day,” Dean said under his breath as he entered the conference room.
Thanks to his reputation with his clients, Russell had been put forward to be a senior partner at his law firm and in readiness for the new role, he had been asked to present to the other partners on his vision for the firm and what he’d be bringing to the party.
The presentation was to take place in the main conference suit, which housed an enormous walnut table that could seat twenty people.
Dean was an assistant to one of the other senior partners and as soon as the presentation had been scheduled, he started putting a plan into action.
Despite years of obsessing over Russell, Dean had been continually shunned and ignored buy him, despite the well-known fact that Russell fucked anything with a pulse, and the office wasn’t off limits for that. Dean had spent the last few years hearing tales from nearly every other assistant, both male and female, about how Russell had fucked them senseless in the copy room, or over his desk, or on a conference table.
Dean had reached his limit and had decided that the time had come to teach Russell a lesson, whilst getting what he’d always wanted.
At 2:30pm, Dean left his office and headed towards the main conference suite. As he walked down the corridor, he looked up to see none other than the god himself coming towards him.
“Hi Russell,” Dean said with another big smile.
The sight of Russell in a beautifully tailored, tight, grey pinstripe suit was more than Dean could handle, but he managed to keep his voice steady.
Russell smiled, but said nothing, as per usual.
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but immediately changed his mind. What he had planned would be much better than any conversation.
After checking that he was alone in the corridor, Dean stepped inside the conference suite and closed the door behind him.
As Russell was presenting, he’d have to sit at the head of the table, and the rest of the partners would likely sit around the opposite end of the table.
As the beautifully crafted walnut table was so big, it was structured in four sections underneath.
Dean dropped to his knees and crawled underneath the table, hiding in the second section, the one next to where Russell would be sitting at the head of the table. He knew he had half an hour to wait until the conference started, but after so many years, he was more than happy to be patient.
Dean slipped his shoes off, conscious that he didn’t want to risk making any noise. He checked his phone was on silent and then got himself comfortable, prepared to wait.
Just before 3pm, Russell stood from his desk and buttoned his suit jacket. He checked the mirror in his office and was pleased to see that he looked his usual sexy self, before heading over to the conference suit, his iPad in hand.
After a lot of handshakes and greetings, Russell took his seat at the head of the table and connected his iPad to the big screen on the wall to his right.
“Good afternoon, everyone, and a massive thank you for the opportunity to present to you all. I consider myself exceedingly lucky to work for such a market leading firm and I would be honoured to become a senior partner.”
Russell smiled at the nods and smiles around the other end of the conference table, knowing full well how good he was at being sincere and enthusiastic when he needed to. They would eat this presentation up.
With everyone’s eyes on him, Russell clicked play on a video on his iPad. “I’d like to start by sharing this short video, which I think sums up the reputation I’ve built for the firm.”
As the video began, a number of faces appeared on screen, each one ready to share their personal experience of working with the legend that was Russell Klein.
The video would last about five minutes and Russell kept his eyes on the other senior partners as they nodded and scribbled notes.
With about a minute to go on the video, Russell gasped and jumped in his seat. The senior partners frowned in his direction and Russell did his utmost to apologise quietly and settle himself.
Someone was under the table, and they’d touched his knee.
Why the fuck are they under the fucking table, Russell cursed in his head. This was the biggest presentation of his career. He couldn’t screw this up.
As the video finished, the hand touched his knee once again. Russell grabbed it and pushed it off of him, but it immediately resumed its grip.
“Is everything alright, Mr Klein?” Arthur Wessex asked with a frown.
Fuck, Russell thought. I can’t ruin this. Whoever is under this table can do what they want, but I am not letting them destroy this for me.
“Apologies,” Russell said with a smile. “As you can see, my track record with our clients speaks for itself, but I want to focus on what we can do to move the firm forward in a market that is becoming increasingly more complex.”
As Russell moved to the next slide, he felt a second hand grip his other knee. It seemed innocent enough, touching his knees, their thumbs occasionally circling his legs. He could cope with this.
“I feel there are a few key areas we could direct our attentions to modernise in a way that feels right for the firm.”
Whilst Russell started to talk about sustainability and diversity, he shifted in his seat as the hands slowly started stroking his thighs. His suit pants dug into his muscular thighs, and he felt the mysterious fingers tracing the creases in the material, getting higher and higher up his leg.
Before long, the stroking slowed and before Russell could prepare himself, they’d moved to the inside of his thighs. He could feel them sliding higher and higher until they stroked the material that cupped his meaty bulge.
“Mr Klein, did you have something to add on diversity?”
Russell coughed and forced his attention from the hands that were now palming his bulge, and his cock that was getting thicker and harder by the second at the unexpected touching.
“Yes . . . a . . . a modern workforce requires . . .”
As he continued, it took every ounce of self-control not to grab whoever was under the table and pull them out. Yes, this would be hot as hell in any meeting except this one.
It was as one of the senior partners was making a comment about modernisation that Russell froze in his seat as he felt the fly on his suit pants being lowered. He could feel sweat on his furry chest as one of the hands forcibly pulled his cock free with a heavy slap against their palm.
Russell was convinced that everyone in the room had heard the meaty slap, but no one had changed their facial expression. He usually went commando in his suit pants so that his bulge was more prominent and tempting to anyone that looked, but he hadn’t counted on the easy access he was providing for whomever was hiding between his legs.
Risking a quick glance, Russell looked down at his lap just as a dark-haired head appeared over his crotch. He knew what was coming but couldn’t hide the surprise from his face when his thick cock was enveloped by the warm mouth of a guy he didn’t recognise.
“Is everything alright there, Mr Klein?” Arthur asked with a frown. “You seem distracted.”
Russell opened his mouth to respond but had to quickly swallow down his response to stop himself from moaning, as his mysterious sucker started to swirl their tongue around the head of his uncut cock. This was quickly replaced by a gentle tug on his foreskin with teeth. Whoever was under there knew exactly what they were doing.
“Apologies. I’m not feeling great,” Russell said as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Let me move on to the next slide.”
With a control that impressed even him, Russell carried on ploughing through his presentation as the guy under the table worshipped his sweaty, thick cock. The guy massaged his thighs and teased his balls through his suit pants whilst sucking, licking, and kissing his dick.
As Russell moved to his penultimate slide, the hands moved from his thighs to his black leather Oxfords before sliding up his pant legs. They massaged his hairy calves before feeling up the garters he was wearing. He didn’t need them to hold his socks up, they just made him feel like even more of a stud.
The feel of the hands on his bare legs brought Russell even closer to the edge and I had to pause to catch his breath before flicking to the last slide.
“Finally, I would like to thank you for the opportunity to present to you today. I will now take questions.”
The senior partners started discussing his presentation and Russell dug his fingers into the arm of his chair as he felt his balls tighten against his body. He was so close. The worship of his suited legs and his cock, the utter taboo of the situation, and the amazing experience of being sucked by an expert cock sucker was too much for him.
“That’s . . . an . . . excellent question,” Russell said with a slight moan as the pressure increased on the head of his cock.
Fuck, I’m so close, he practically whimpered internally.
“And the answer?” Vivian Jacques said with a raised brow.
“The answer is . . .”
Russell couldn’t answer. He’d reached his limit and the muscles in his entire body tensed as he started to shoot his load at a rapid-fire pace down the throat of the mysterious man under the conference table.
Biting down hard on his lip, Russell fought not to make a single noise as the senior partners watched him with looks of concern or confusion.
When Russell’s cock had been drained, the guy kept sucking him and the sensitivity was way too much, and he had no choice other than to push the guy off of him.
“Mr Klein, your response please,” Vivian barked.
“Yes, of course. The workforce requires . . .”
Russell finished answering the question and was thoroughly relieved when no one else raised their hand.
“Well, Mr Klein, I think we can say with great confidence that you will make an excellent senior partner.”
Stunned by the news, Russell could only stare in shock that he’d managed to score the promotion whilst getting the best blowjob of his life. His now deflating cock was pushed back inside his fly and the hands retreated.
“If you’ll follow me back to my office, I’ll get the paperwork sorted now.”
Russell wanted to know who was under the desk but when he pushed his chair back and stood up, he could only see the wood that divided the sections of the table.
“You may want to zip yourself, Mr Klein,” Vivian said with a wry smile as she walked past him.
Russell blushed for the first time in his life as he quickly zipped his fly, conscious that his damp cock was still leaking cum, and he’d probably have a stain on his suit pants in the next few minutes. He didn’t know who was under the desk, but he was desperate for a replay, which was nothing compared to the sheer ecstasy that Dean was in. Not only had he blown Russell, but he’d cum all over himself under the table. Yes, Russell had gotten the job, but Dean had got what he wanted more than anything and as he lay under the conference table, he couldn’t resist starting to jerk off again as he replayed the last hour in his head.
