A gay sex story: Gentlemen’s Club Ch. 05 DAY SHIFT
Franklin Melville, host/waiter at the Club, was stuck with the twelve to five shift – and not the good one. He’d arrived at the Club at 11:30, had lunch in the staff room, had the guy who’d made the lunch on top of the table in the staff room, and then went on to his station at the desk in the entry room, knowing all too well from previous day shifts that that lovely little interlude with the cook was all the exercise his cock was going to get for the next 5 hours. Sigh.
Frank looked down at his uniform; his spotless, perfectly pressed shirt and tie (the uniform jacket not mandatory unless he actually had to let a member in, so at the moment it was resting on top of the counter in front of him); his hard-on poking up in the air from the gap in his chaps, giving him an accusing look out of its single tearing eye, the head and shaft a deep, dark red due to the snap-on cock-ring fastened around its base. The only sound in the room was the low level buzz of the vibrator he’d inserted into himself at 11:59. That had been over an hour ago, closer to an hour and a half. The thing was just sitting there, teasing his prostate and, together with the cock-ring, keeping him on edge.
The temptation to reach back and work the vibrator back and forth was a constant distraction – not that he had that much else to keep his mind off his ass. But he knew that if the boss should decide to make a surprise inspection and found him masturbating – even if he kept his hands off his throbbing dick – it could mean suspension from active duty for days, maybe even weeks if he was unlucky enough to get caught shooting off.
As it was, he sat on his stool, trying to read his book and just wait for the next three and a half hours to go by. Day shift was allowed to read on the job; but not to listen to music, play video games, watch TV or anything else that made noise – so that on the off chance that a customer came knocking he would be able to hear them, no matter how faint the knock was.
‘Yeah, right.’ Sigh.
‘Don’t think about the way your prostate is begging for just a little friction. Don’t think about how easy it would be to reach down and undo the leather cock-ring, giving Junior a little breathing space, maybe give him a little stroke of encouragement for being such a good, upstanding boy. Don’t think about that cute cook’s ass, the way the guy moaned and bucked and shot off into the jar he’d brought with him while you stroked off inside him. REALLY don’t think about that jar, since it’ll only make you think about all those other dicks getting milked in the kitchen; about the day you’d been hired when the chef had tried to drain your balls dry while Mr. Colbert had pounded the staff of authority up you aching pussy…’
Frank was so caught up in his memories, he almost missed the gentle knock on the door.
There it came again. Looking quickly at the monitor on his desk, he saw a club membership card being held up to the camera by the door, a hint of gray hair and pinstripe suit behind it.
For a moment, Frank froze, unsure what to do – this was the Club’s version of a graveyard shift, nothing ever happens at these hours! Then his mind went back on-line and he reached for the switch to unlatch the door, at the same time hitting the button on his pager alerting his back-up (lucky bastard, got to screw around with the other staff members while Frank had been stuck behind this desk) that a member had arrived and, with luck, he would have to replace Frank at the door, before quickly pulling on his jacket.
As the man came in from the street, Frank got his first decent look at him. Like most members, he was a mature man – closer to 50 than 30, if Frank was any judge – dressed in an expensively understated business suit, his gray hair neatly cut and combed into place. The only thing not chiming with the look of quiet, competent sophistication was the hunger burning in his eyes as he took in Frank’s lower body, as the host came out from behind his desk and approached him.
“Good afternoon, sir. Would you care to check your things and follow me inside, or is your business of a more urgent nature?” he asked, vaguely remembering the standard line he’d been told to give, well over two years ago when he’d been in training, in the event that a club member should come in during the day. This was the first time he’d ever had to use it.
Frank himself was closer to 30 than 50, a slight wave to his light-brown hair which was combed back from his face, framing his dark blue eyes. His cock was, according to one of the more poetic members he’d had the pleasure of serving, a ‘succulently mouthwatering’ fat 8 inches, and without a word, the current visitor proved his own opinion by immediately dropping to his knees and gulping the whole throbbing rod down his eager throat.
A slightly bemused look on his face, Frank looked down at the customer at his feet as Jason, his backup, came to the curtain that separated the entry room from the main room, his hands just finishing with his tie, his own cock sticking out of the gap in his uniform pants glistening with either spit or lube. Jason was professional enough not to barge in on the two men, but instead hid himself from the customer’s view and watched – if the man made Frank cum, then it would be Jason’s job to replace him at the entry room until Frank cleaned himself up and his dick recovered, so, of course, Jason had to be right on-site so he could spring into place as soon as the customer was out of sight. The fact that watching was a turn-on was completely coincidental.
The member at Franks feet looked like he was doing his honest best to choke himself, pressing his face into Frank’s groin while his throat muscles milked the hard, swollen shaft buried inside him. Looking down, Frank could just make out that the man had undone the fly of his suit trousers, and was whacking away on his already hard cock – the sounds of the fleshy smacks were all-too clear even over the whimpering sounds coming from the man’s chest, as well as the slurping wet noises of his mouth sucking hard on Frank’s juicy cock.
One of the member’s hands suddenly grabbed Frank’s ass, pulling him still closer, as though the man suspected that Frank was holding out on him and truly wanted to get every last tiny millimeter into his voracious maw. As the hand got a tighter grip on one of his ass-cheeks, the fingertips came into contact with the handle of the vibrator which had been Frank’s sole form of entertainment up until the man’s arrival.
As he the felt the hard, vibrating plastic, the man pulled himself away and spoke for the first time, his voice a little rough from the abuse his throat had just suffered, “Turn around. I want to see what you’ve got in there!”
“Very good, sir,” Frank said in his most professional voice as he turned and complied, turning to face away from the man and bending over to give him a better angle, “But don’t you think, sir, it might be a good idea to continue this somewhere that doesn’t have a door leading to the outside world?”