So I’m a nerd in a nerdy job. I do various tech jobs for a small university department and it’s basically anything that requires a degree of practicality. There’s an IT department but they’re always busy and tend to refuse work that isn’t in their job descriptions just to protect themselves from getting overwhelmed.
As you might guess, any time the academics have computer questions that aren’t 100% work related they come to me. That’s not just “Why did my laptop stop working when I poured red wine into it?” It’s also, “My internet provider sent me a new router and now my Chromecast doesn’t let me watch Netflix.” I know I should refuse to help these people but some of them are older and very sweet, and some of them are straight up silver foxes who, when they get bossy and demanding – if they catch me in the right mood – somewhat get me sweaty.
One of those people is the Dean. The big, high poobah himself. Now I don’t fool around with people at work. At all. More trouble than it’s worth. But if he put the moves on me then I’d have trouble saying no. That’s pretty much where this all started. He approached me one Friday afternoon and essentially wheedled me into providing a bit of tech support for another Academic friend of his. Now at the start of the conversation I was under the impression that it was someone new joining the department, but as it all went on I came to realise that he was talking about a friend of his. Apparently I’m now being pimped out by the Dean!
(Ok, I’ll admit, being pimped out is kind of a dirty fantasy of mine, but this isn’t quite what I had in mind)
I only really realised after I’d been given my marching orders and he’d left, that it wasn’t even an order. He’d asked me if I’d mind helping this guy out on the Saturday, while giving me the impression that this was a work thing and I had to do it. I could have gone after him and pointed out that it wasn’t my job and refused, but I like having people high up owe me favours… And quite frankly standing up to him like that just isn’t me.
So I made sure to take my kit bag with me Friday night and I headed over to this other guy’s place around 9 the next morning. There’s a village, just outside of the town we’re based in, which has much higher property prices and tends to be where the well-to-do academics, scientists and business people live. Lots of Victorian housing and big gardens. Anyway my phone tells me I’m pretty much there and I start looking for house numbers. It took a while but I finally spot something on a gatepost. A gatepost with a drive behind it. It was about now I realise this guy isn’t hurting for money. I head down the drive and low-and-behold you have something out of a period drama! This place must be almost three hundred years old, set amongst trees, manicured lawn… It’s beautiful! Ok, it’s only set in maybe four acres but you can’t see another house through the trees.
There’s a couple of cars parked over to the side and I pull in next to them. There’s something about a gravel drive that just makes you feel fancy, even if it isn’t yours. I almost feel, at this point, as though I should be going around to the tradesman’s entrance rather than even contemplating going up to the front door. But I do. There’s only one doorbell, which is bizarre here with the number of places like this that get subdivided into smaller residences. I can hear raised voices and I’m totally hesitating and feeling very out of my depth. I’m actually trembling slightly with nerves. But I ring the bell, and it’s a nice, deep ringing. Not a pathetic little buzzer.
The guy who opens the door is pretty cute. Either in his fifties or young-looking for his sixties. He’s wearing a button-down shirt and jeans. Neatly trimmed hair, clean shaven, he looks like a classic Etonian. He seems a little flushed and I can hear a woman further into the house yelling about something. He’s a little gruff but when I tell him who I am he brightens and ushers me in, introduces me to his wife who I gather is also an academic but in a different field, and starts explaining the problem to me. Essentially they’re not “Techy people” but they finally got around to having “Proper internet” installed and the wireless hub they were promised by the ISP would serve their needs… Isn’t.
The argument between him and his wife seems to be on hold for the time being while there’s a guest in the house. Something about preparing for a party tomorrow. She wants him out from under her hair.
So I get ushered up to his study on the first floor and shown where the hub sits. (They came up a wall and in through an existing vent to avoid putting more holes in what I suspect is a listed building) And then led around the building to various spots to show me where there is no signal. Which seems to be everywhere. So he wanders around for ten minutes as I dig my laptop out and check the router is working properly. He’s making lots of “harumph” sounds and angry comments about being mis-sold services. Now I’ve got over my nerves I’m actually having flashes of arousal when he leans over me to look at something on the screen. He’s very authoritative and smells good. I’m actually flushing a little and tripping over my words occasionally. Eventually I tell him that with his set-up and where he wants internet I’m going to have to run some cables, install another router and some access points. The cable and the router I’ve got, the access points not so much. But this seems to actually cheer him up quite a bit and he tells me as long as we can get the TV on the internet and connections for his and his wife’s Macs then the wireless can wait a little longer.
So I get to work. It’s nothing too bad. I can always tuck cables along wainscotting and under edges of carpets. There are some air vents I can snake wires through and within another two hours I have an 8-port switch cabled in downstairs and the Macs wired upstairs. I’ve heard a bit more shouting over that time but it’s less than before. I guess he’s staying out of her way. He’s actually been dropping in on me more and more. Not always with me knowing, but sometimes I’ve been on my hands and knees in a corner and then suddenly realised he’s behind me. Silent. Watching. It always makes me jump a little and I can feel my face turn red when it happens.
So I finished up back in his study. I’d managed to reconfigure the router to at least give him a little wireless coverage and I was just tidying up when he came right over. He was actually standing with his hip against my shoulder and, as he leaned forward he rested his hand on the back of my neck. I cant even begin to describe just how that made me feel in that moment. His hand was very warm and something just shot through me. I froze, quite literally mid keystroke. I was trembling and could barely breathe. He said something about “Well done” or “Very good work” and then actually patted my head before moving his hand away. I’d worn chinos and a button down shirt myself that morning. Trying to look presentable for a friend of the Dean’s. There was now an involuntary tent in the front of my trousers and it was painfully pronounced. I was caught in the grip of a lot of conflicting emotions right now and not entirely sure what to do. He’d stepped back a little way and I was getting my breathing under control. I wasn’t even sure if he’d noticed my reaction, although his touch seemed a little strange. I went back to closing things down, finishing up and closing my laptop, feeling the unmistakable sensation of a damp spot forming in my boxers.
I tucked my laptop back into my bag, turned in the chair and got to my feet. He was standing a couple of meters away. Not precisely smiling but he looked very smug. I tried to pull myself together and just said “Well, I think that’s all I can do for now.” to which he replied that he had one more thing I could help him with. Naturally I said ok and he pointed to the corner of his desk, the carpet. I didn’t know what to think or do. He just told me that I’d have to kneel down to see it…
I’m a bottom and a sub. I’m already turned on and when a cute, older man with a dominant attitude tells me to kneel I’m pretty much always going to do it. I slid out of the chair and on to the floor beside the desk. I glance at the corner but I think I know where this is going, even if I can’t quite admit it to myself. He steps closer and I can see his bulge that matches my own. I ask him what he needed me to do and he steps much closer. He’s looking down at me and he tells me that I know what he wants. Well, I’m shaking. It feels like I’m in the grip of something. I can barely lift my hands to his crotch and I’m sure it takes a couple of minutes to do so. I grasp the zip on his jeans and tug it down and the only reason his cock doesn’t hit me squarely in the face is because it’s caught by his boxers. I free it and I now have a very tasty looking, cut cock staring me in the face. He’s wet. I can see a droplet of pre-cum forming even as I look. I look up at him and he’s looking back down at me. He just says “Well?”
Well I can’t resist. I move my head forward and lap that pre-cum up in an instant. It’s salty but he tastes and smells clean. Big relief. While I can’t resist Dominant guys I hate it when they aren’t hygienic. He swells even more at the touch of my tongue and I just wrap my whole mouth around his cock. I hear him grunt and I’m just lost in sucking. He’s not a monster, maybe six inches long, but he’s firm and girthy. I’m slowly bobbing my head and tasting more of his pre-cum. He’s obviously leaking freely. I can tell he’s enjoying himself as he starts to thrust. Not hard, just enough to accentuate my own movements. My nose is going all the way down into his fly and I’m feeling his tip brushing deep in my throat. He’s got his hands on my head now, holding on and stroking my hair. I should probably have been worrying about his wife coming in but somehow I just couldn’t work up the will to care. A few more moments and he was fucking my face. His cock was slick with my spit and he was ramming away. Still controlled but he was definitely enjoying himself.
His mouthfucking me didn’t last long. I could tell he was getting too excited to last if he continued. He pulled out abruptly and ordered me up. It took me a few seconds to get my head around the command, as my mind rather goes away when I’m being used like that. But I managed to stumble to my feet with the help of the desk. Then he turned me around, unbuckled my belt and trousers and pushed them all down along with my sodden underwear. He bent me over his desk and, with my face on his blotter, I heard his own trousers drop to the floor.
When he stepped closer and I felt his wet cock head nestle in between the cheeks of my ass I actually moaned. He actually chuckled at that point and just said “Ssh.” I didn’t know if he was going to use lube or a condom, all I knew was the feeling of the wood I was laying on and my hard cock was pressing up against. I heard him spit and felt a warm wetness land between my cheeks. I felt it trickling down. I felt his thick, hard cock head rubbing up and down across my hole and it was all I could do to whimper “Please”. A moment later he pushed, my hole spread and I could feel him fill me. It’s been a while since my last time but I was so turned on he had no trouble penetrating me. He went balls-deep with the first thrust and within seconds was fucking me hard. I was grunting and gasping with every pistoning motion, barely able to keep my volume down. If he hadn’t told me to ssh then I would have screamed and begged for more and faster and harder. I could feel his balls slapping mine and his cock bottoming out inside me. He was driving into me like a toy and there was no way in hell I could resist.
He must have been close from the blow I gave him. He didn’t pound my hole for long before I felt him give one, last thrust and twitch deep inside me. Then he pulled back out, patted me on the back and tugged his trousers back up before walking out of the room. I was still laid out over the desk five minutes later when he came back, his cum trickling down my thigh and my cum trickling down the side of his desk. He eased me to my feet, pointed to the bathroom off of the study and told me that I should clean up.
I cleaned, as best I could. Wadded some paper into my boxers in case his cum started leaking out. Dabbed up some of the mess in my underwear so that it hopefully wouldn’t stain through to my chinos and tried to tidy my hair. It took a while to get myself back under control but I managed it. When I finally left the bathroom I could see he hadn’t cleaned up the mess on the side of his desk. I think he could tell I was working up the nerve to ask about it, but he just hustled me downstairs, talking about how busy he was and thanking me for the tech support. I was ushered straight past his wife who managed a quick thank-you and then walked out the door with my bag being pressed into my hand. There was a very cheery “We’ll see you when you have those parts in stock!” and then the door was shut, firmly behind me.
I was left on the doorstep feeling wrung out, shaky, disoriented and incredibly horny.
And I still have no regrets about a second of it.