Shot, shit, either way. I was in my office one day, working on whatever it was i was working on. You know? Nose to the grindstone, honest day’s work...for an honest day’s pay, what-the-fuck-ever. Now, I say office, but I really mean cube. I worked in a cube farm, ubiquitous in these days. A head popped over the side of my cube. It was Dave, resident flaming fag and troublemaker. Hey, I had no problem with him, personally, but he was always trying to find a reason to be offended. ‘Jeff, my MAN!’. He moved his hands up your lower legs to your calves, pushing and squeezing, using his thumbs he dug deep into your muscles, almost painful but definitely pleasurable. John continued to move his hands up your legs stopping at the middle of your thighs. He moved to your side to work on thigh with both hands and you noticed his clothing for the first time. His pants were very thin linen, almost gauzelike material which did nothing to conceal his thick cock hanging between his legs. You also. More

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