Chapter 2 – Chapter 2
Craig Wilson had enjoyed the session in Keith Turner's office, but he hadn't much cared to have been shown so graphically where he stood in the pecking order in this office. It was just the misfortune of the file clerk, Alphonse Pointer, a saucy young black man of pretty Jamaican features, that he chose to give a flippant reply to one of Craig's instructions later that afternoon. Wilson had just stood up from his desk, taken Alphonse by the scruff of his collar, and pushed him out a door onto the twelfth-floor landing of a disused stairwell shaft. Alphonse had been swinging his hips and tossing suggestive glances at Craig for weeks, so Craig had little question of what Alphonse would take from him. But he doubted Alphonse expected the mating dance to be ended so abruptly as this.
Listen you little queen, Wilson exploded once the two were out on the landing. You work for me, see. So, you don't talk back to me.
"Uh, what's . . .? Alphonse spouted, trying to wriggle out of Wilson's powerful grip.
"Listen, you've worked here long enough to know the office motto, haven't you?" Wilson continued.
"Uhh, I'm not . . ."
"It's fuck with me and you get fucked." Wilson blustered through gritted teeth. He was going to assert some of his own control in this corporation now. He had a certain amount of rank too. Wilson pushed the file clerk down two more flights of stairs, to the level of a floor that was waiting to be refitted and thus where no one worked now.
"Stop and face the banister," Wilson barked.
Alphonse did so without question, fully cowed by this crazed—but delicious—blond stud from accounting.
Wilson came up close behind him, unzipped his fly and pulled out a respectably sized cock. The accountant then doubled the young file clerk over at the waist on the banister with one hand, so that he was facing down the well from the tenth floor, and worked up his unsheathed cock with the other hand, spitting a few times on his hand to lubricate his tool. When Wilson was satisfied he was at least half hard and able to penetrate the younger man, he pulled Alphonse's pants and briefs down off his buttocks, pushed his legs out to open him up as much as possible under these circumstances, and pushed his dick into Alphonse's gaping, well-used hole.
Alphonse grunted and gritted his teeth as the angry accountant entered him, but he grabbed down for the banister slats with white-knuckled fists and took the blond stud without squeal or objection.
Once in, Wilson tightened the young man up by getting his legs between his own. He draped his chest over the smaller man's back so that they were both folded at the waist over the banister and facing down ten flights of stairwells. Wilson latched onto one of Alphonse's ear lobes with his teeth and held on gently.
Wilson could feel the file clerk grunting and groaning, and then sighing and moaning in ecstasy as the accountant's cock lengthened and thickened inside him and filled him to capacity.
"Who's the boss?" Wilson breathed into the younger man's ear.
"You're the boss," Alphonse answered.
"Who backtalks me?"
"Not me, Boss."
As Wilson filled Alphonse to the end and started to pump, the accountant took one of his fists and pushed down the front of the file clerks pants and the two stroked Alphonse off together, the file clerk's hand under the accountant's, encasing his cock, while Wilson controlled the stroking. As Wilson sensed he was cuming, he let loose of Alphonse's earlobe with his teeth and started tongue-fucking his ear. Alphonse held his head closer to Wilson's tongue, loving the sensation. Once more the two managed to cum almost simultaneously, the accountant deep inside the file clerk and the file clerk down those ten floors of stair well.
"Wow," was all the clerk said when it was over.
"Yes, wow," Wilson responded. "Now, how do you feel about needing control?"
"I love being controlled by you, Boss. Yes, I certainly do, and you can control me anytime you want. But who can I control in this big corporation? Does the cum stop here?"
Wilson gave a low laugh. "There's always someone you can control in the pecker order, Alphonse. You might try that Cuban body builder in the mail room. You outrank him here. But if you try him, you might need to make an appointment. If I hear correctly, he's fucking Bull Thorne these days."