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A Matter of Style

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Mr. White leaned back in his chair at the office and yawned. The time was past five o’clock and this late in November, it was already dark outside. He had felt himself drifting off to sleep at more than one occasion during the long, wearisome autumn afternoon. The one thing that could keep him awake - more than awake - was thinking about a certain colleague, his former teacher Mr. Strunk. Of course, he knew he shouldn’t feel that way about a man, especially not about this man, but 5:23 on a Friday afternoon was not the time for intense ethical questioning. Instead, he let his mind drift back to thoughts of Strunk’s body.
A gentle touch on Mr. White’s shoulder startled him out of his reverie.
“I’d like to meet with you briefly, if you don’t mind,” Mr. Strunk said with a friendly smile that sent Mr. White’s heart dropping down below his stomach and other parts rising.
“Is it… about the book?” White managed to ask.
“More of a personal matter. No need to jump up so fast… maybe turn towards the wall so the ladies don’t see how… excited you are.”
Mr. White blushed deeply to think that Mr. Strunk had noticed his rather prominent erection. “Sorry, sir.”
“No, no, perfectly natural. Now follow me to my office, there’s a good lad.”
Mr. Strunk’s office was warm and intimate and completely private. Upholstered wooden chairs surrounded an expensive-looking table of a dark wood. There was a cozy-looking armchair in the corner that seemed more used than the rest of the furniture. The walls were paneled with dark wood and decorated with a couple of tasteful sketches.
“Have a seat,” Mr. Strunk said, motioning toward one of the dark chairs. Mr. White took a seat, feeling his knees trembling. Was this finally his chance to talk to Mr. Strunk in a more personal style? No, it was impossible. He didn’t want to lose his job and his chance to work on the book.
“I want to make a few things very clear,” Mr. Strunk said. “First, you are free to leave at any time if you are uncomfortable. You may leave now, if you wish.”
Mr. White shook his head. He wanted to stay here with Mr. Strunk, no matter what happened.
“Very well. Second, if you choose to stay, what happens in this room remains in this room. You will not talk to the secretaries or any other employees about this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How can I put this as simply as possible? You are a very attractive young man. That is objectively true, is it not? And I have noticed that you show a certain interest in me. Therefore, I would like to return the favor of your interest.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Not simple enough? Well then, I would like to suck your dick.”
Mr. White felt his head spin; he would have fainted had he not already been seated.
“Is this a prank? Are you trying to accuse me of homosexuality?”
“I accuse no one of homosexuality but myself. I am merely making an offer. As I said, you are free to leave at any time.”
Mr. Strunk was leaning forward in his armchair, looking intently at Mr. White’s pale, wide-eyed face for a response.
“I would be honored, sir.”
Mr. Strunk slowly stood up, revealing the fact that he, too, had an erection. He slowly walked over to Mr. White’s chair and delicately brushed his fingers against the seated man’s swollen crotch. White felt an intense surge of arousal and worried that he would not be able to keep from ejaculating for long enough to take his trousers off. Fortunately, Strunk seemed to have predicted this risk and, putting his fingers under the younger man’s backside, lifted him up to a standing position. He unfastened Mr. White’s belt and unbuttoned his trousers, sliding them carefully down over his body. White felt embarrassingly exposed in only his underwear, which already felt slightly moist. Mr. Strunk wasted no time in carefully maneuvering the underwear over White;s body, leaving him completely nude from the waist down.
Strunk knelt down, inspecting White’s erection. White shivered a little, feeling the cold air on his naked body, and feeling more scared than he had ever felt before. This was something like the stage fright he had had when he had to give a speech, but no one had been sucking his dick then. He shivered again, more intensely, as Mr. Strunk brushed his fingers against the exposed skin.
“Are you ready?” Strunk asked him.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“I know.”
A warm feeling enveloped Mr. White and he could feel Mr. Strunk’s tongue working against his cock. The young man felt faint again, this time with pleasure. He could feel himself leaking already and prayed that he could last long enough not to completely embarrass himself. Without meaning to, he started rocking back and forth, pushing his dick against the back of Mr. Strunk’s throat. Mr. Strunk seemed unfazed and kept going, pulling with his lips to elicit a gasp from his colleague.
“Keep going,” Mr. White muttered. He didn’t know where to look - should he stare straight ahead? Close his eyes? He decided to look at Mr. Strunk’s handsome, middle-aged face, admiring the firm lines of his cheeks and nose. Another wave of feeling washed over Mr. White and he almost lost his footing, leaning forward and placing his hands on Mr. Strunk’s shoulders to steady himself. This position gave Strunk a better angle to work with his tongue, moving it over White’s shaft until the younger man groaned aloud in ecstasy.
“Mr. Strunk… I don’t think I can last much longer!”
As Strunk sucked deeply, White lost control and came hard into the other man’s mouth. This was different from any other orgasm he’d had; wetter, stronger somehow, almost painful in its intensity. He withdrew and fell to his knees as Strunk swallowed and wiped his mouth.
“How was that?” the older man asked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m… fine,” White panted. “That was... amazing. How do you... do it… so well?
“Just like anything else, it takes practice. Once you master the elements, you can build on them. It’s all really a matter of style.”