Riding Bone
Chapter 2
Paul leaned back in his chair and lightly rubbed his abdomen through his dress shirt as the computer shut down. He stared around the office idly, watching people get ready to go home for the day. Mike Thuringen had stood up and was gathering his things when Paul caught his eye. Mike walked over to his cube and leaned against the file cabinet. His wavy brown hair was immaculately combed back, and Mike’s tanned face was smiling at him with more than friendly interest.
“Hey Paul,” he said idly, flicking at a nonexistent speck of dust on his black jacket. He was wearing a silver-colored watch with a blue cover, and it looked quite expensive. He looked out at Paul over steel-rimmed glasses, and said “Up for a drink or two at Big Town tonight?” He’d never asked Paul to go drinking with him before.
“Hey Mike,” Paul returned the greeting. Mike was checking him out, and Paul spread his legs just a little bit to give him a better view without thinking about it. Mike’s eyes widened almost imperceptively. “Sorry man, but I gotta keep the routine up.” He flexed his right arm at Mike and grinned.
Mike sighed exaggeratedly, shifting a bit to adjust the growing bulge in his light grey dress pants. When Paul flexed, Mike could see his biceps jump under his shirt. Paul seemed unaware of the trouble he was causing as he stood up and said “I’ll walk you downstairs, though,” and winked at Mike. Paul turned around and picked up his briefcase, offering Mike a delicious view of the small man’s tight ass.
Paul waved goodbye to a few of his coworkers, giving some of the more attractive men a second glance as he headed for the elevators. Mike walked beside him silently, using the walk as an excuse to brush up against Paul without being too obvious about it. Paul laid a steadying hand on Mike’s arm just the same, letting go as they reached the elevator bank.
Paul noticed Mike checking him out openly on the otherwise empty elevator ride down as they made small talk. Mike was standing a little closer than he normally would, but Paul didn’t feel crowded. In fact, it was a little comforting to have the tall man that close to him. In a strange way, he felt more protected, which was an odd feeling given that he’d never felt like he needed protection before.
Mike’s hand brushed lightly against Paul’s ass as they left the elevator, but Paul chalked it up to a light flirtation. The previous day’s intended “talk” seemed a million years ago now, and Paul decided to just enjoy the attention. It was nice to be wanted, even if Mike stood no chance with a straight man.
“I hope you have a good ride home, man,” Mike said, and suddenly Paul heard a ringing in his ears. Suddenly Mike was the only person in the lobby to Paul, his entire universe. Mike noticed the change as Paul’s briefcase slid out of his hand and said something, but Paul couldn’t make it out. He tried to speak but found he couldn’t. He walked up to Mike, grabbed the back of his neck, and tried to give him a full-on kiss. Mike jerked away and snapped at him, but he couldn’t hear what the man was saying. Mike shook him and clapped his hands in Paul’s face, and suddenly the roaring stopped, and Paul was standing in the lobby with Mike and a few other people, looking at him strangely.
“What do you think you’re doing,” Mike hissed, and grabbed Paul’s arm. Paul barely had a chance to grab his briefcase as Mike pulled him into another hallway in the lobby and backed him against a wall. “Look, I’m into you, I think that’s obvious, but you can’t just go around kissing me in the public lobby, asshole!”
“Huh?” Paul said. “What the hell are you talking about, Mike?” he shrugged Mike’s hand off his arm and said “Pay close attention, Mike. I am s-t-r-a-i-g-h-t. I wouldn’t be caught kissing you if you were the last person on Earth, got it?”
Mike looked confused for a moment, and then got an angry gleam in his eye. “Fine. Pretend it didn’t happen, dickwad.” Mike turned around and swept out of the hallway, leaving a bewildered Paul leaning against the wall. Two middle-aged women were staring at him and whispering to each other as Paul left the building, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. He didn’t notice that he’d gone stiff in his dress pants, tenting them out obscenely, or that his right hand had snuck into his pocket and was brazenly stroking his balls. He walked down the street, fuming over the way Mike had treated him downstairs but completely befuddled as to what had gotten into the man.
A few people gave him disdainful looks as he walked down State Street, and a couple of thin men in skin-tight clothes gave his crotch extremely direct looks as he strolled on, but he couldn’t for the life of himself figure out why. As he reached the gym building and walked up the flight of stairs, he pulled the card out of his pants pocket with his right hand. The attendant, Nikol, was dressed in the same grey sweats as yesterday, but this time he also gave Paul a startled look as he waved to him and entered the gym. It wasn’t until Paul had entered the empty locker room and pulled off his dress pants that he noticed he had a boner. “How embarrassing”, he thought to himself. “How long have I been like that?” He hoped he hadn’t been that way all the way down the street…
He finished undressing, hanging his suit on the dry cleaner’s rack, and slid on his jock strap. He tried to adjust it so that it was less obvious that he still had a raging erection, but it kept springing right back out. He gave up after a few tries, and put on his tight workout shorts and deep-V jersey tank, hoping that the bottom of the shirt would hide it until it went down. He stuffed his dirty socks and briefs into the laundry bag and into his locker and headed for the weight room.
Today was glutes and lower back, and he spent thirty minutes on each, alternating crunches and squats with weights on his shoulders and thighs. A few other men were in the room, all around his age, but he didn’t see anyone he knew. “A lot of new clientele this week,” he thought to himself. He caught a few staring at him as he worked out and, unknowing, flexed his pumped muscles tighter to give them a little show.
As he finished, the man he’d helped spot the day before came into the room in bright yellow biker’s gear, the lycra tight against his solid body. He noticed Paul and his eyes lit up in recognition. He walked over to Paul and stuck out his hand, “Paul, yes?” he smiled with those perfect teeth again.
Paul shook his hand, trying to remember his name. “Nathan, yes?” and the man smiled even larger.
“That’s right! Done with your workout, I see,” he said, letting his eyes travel down Paul’s sweat-covered body. Paul’s jersey had ridden up on Paul’s chest while he worked out, and his arousal was too evident. Paul broke the long handshake and pulled his jersey down as casually as he could, and Nathan’s eyes returned to his face, albeit with one eyebrow cocked. Nathan’s smile turned slightly predatory.
Paul suddenly felt nervous in front of this man. The last time he’d seen him he’d been on a weight bench, but standing up, Paul felt his shortness acutely. To break the tension, he started talking about his routine, mentioning that today had been lower back and glutes. Nathan’s smile grew fixed, and Paul noticed Nathan’s bulge getting a little larger himself. Geez, what was with all these gays around him today? He better change cologne.
He continued the small talk for as long as was polite, and then said his goodbyes. He felt Nathan’s eyes on him as he left the weight room, and Nathan even had the gall to comment that the workout today had certainly pumped up his glutes. The nerve!
Paul entered the locker room and undressed, stuffing his clothes into the dirty laundry bag with his work items, grabbed his gym bags, and set them at the sink beside the showers. He could hear the showers running in the bathroom, and as he entered the room, a man was facing the front, soaping up in the center of the shower area. He was tall, blonde, tanned and nearly hairless on his body, with large slabs of muscle giving him the look of a quarterback. Paul stood in the entranceway for a moment, staring at the man’s planes of muscle as they glistened in the steam of the showers, and watched the soap dripping off of the man’s rather immense soft cock, which jutted out over two plump egg-shaped testicles that hung low. He realized suddenly he was staring and jerked into the shower, his own arousal embarrassingly obvious. The man didn’t turn or otherwise move from the area, so he must not have noticed, even though he had seen Paul as he entered.
Paul walked over to a nozzle next to the man and turned it on. His hands were trembling slightly. He had the strangest sense of déjà vu. As the water warmed up, he turned to the man, who up to now had said nothing, and said “Have we met? I don’t recall…”
The man raised his eyebrows and said “I don’t think so.” He stuck out a wet hand full of lather and said, “I’m Mac Avery.” Everyone seemed gigantic to Paul today, and this man was no exception, being well over six feet tall. He held hand contact with Paul until Paul started to become uncomfortable. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’re shaking slightly, Paul. Hard workout?” he asked in his soft tenor voice.
Paul took the opportunity to reclaim his hand. “I guess so,” he laughed shakily, and quickly stepped into the warm water of the shower. He turned away from Mac so he wouldn’t see the erection that was starting up again and grabbed some soap. He started to wash himself. These trembles had better go down soon, he thought, or it would be a hard ride home.
Mac talked him up as they washed, and Paul felt himself relaxing more. He told Mac about the routine he’d just done, and Mac said something approving about the results, making Paul flush. Paul mentioned the upcoming ride home, and Mac remarked on how beautiful the day was, and then started talking about horticulture and the park system of Chicago. Paul tried to listen, but his mind kept slipping away. He tried to sound attentive and made noncommittal noises about what the man was talking about, but eventually he gave up and let his mind wander.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around, nearly knocking Mac back. Mac was standing extremely close to him – so close, in fact, that some of the water on Mac was dripping onto him. Mac stood over him with a concerned look on his face, and said “You ok there, buddy? You zoned out for a minute. We were talking about rhododendrons…” At the word, a wave of lust swept through Paul and he launched himself at Mac, jumping into the man’s arms and shoving his tongue in his mouth. Mac returned the kiss with fervor, biting it softly and backing him into a wall. Paul could feel Mac’s muscles sliding beneath him. They pulled away from each other’s faces for a moment, breathless, and Mac laughed. “I guess the garden chat is over,” he said, and let Paul slide to his knees on the shower floor. Paul could see his stiff manhood poking out in front of him, nearly swatting him in the nose. It exuded the most intoxicating odor, of sweat and the sea and other smells he couldn’t place. Suddenly it was the only thing in Paul’s existence, and he had to have it. He took the cock tentatively into his mouth, and Mac let out a low growl above him. Mac said something else that Paul couldn’t quite make out, and then he was bobbing up and down on the cock like a pro. It was smooth and straight, with an even harder core that ran down the side of the penis. “Oh, that’s awesome, keep doing that,” Mac said as Paul swirled his tongue around the slit of Mac’s throbbing dick. He made love to Mac’s cock for what must have been ten minutes, and then felt it swell more in his mouth and a hot stream of cum erupted into him, then another, and another, and another. He felt himself coming as Mac came, and he hadn’t even touched himself. He jerked around like a marionette with its strings cut as the orgasm washed through him. Mac said something else Paul couldn’t make out, and Paul pulled off Mac’s dick and just sat in the shower on his knees as the water washed over both of them.
Mac lifted him up effortlessly and put him back on his feet, then placed his hand on his shoulder again and said something else. Paul shook the cobwebs out of his head and said “Sorry, I must have zoned out there. My apologies.” Mac grinned at him and said “Oh, it’s fine. Once I get started on gardening, it can be hard to stop me.”
“Are you a gardener by trade?” Paul asked as Mac’s hand slid off his shoulder and Mac turned back into his own shower spray, rinsing off.
“Oh, no, I’m a life coach – I give workout lessons, career advice, and lifestyle advice to those willing to emulate my success,” Mac said. Paul thought that sounded a little narcissistic, but didn’t say so. He finished rinsing off and turned off the shower, as did Mac. They walked out of the area genially. Paul walked back to his locker and started to get dressed as Mac continued to talk to him about his day, asking Paul about his work and other random topics as they both got ready. Paul walked to the mirror in his tight white tee-shirt and biking shorts and trimmed his beard, noticing Mac getting dressed in a white suit behind him. Mac pulled out his wallet and extracted a card, then walked over to Paul. “Here, take my card,” he said, setting it on the vanity board. “Even if you don’t want to use my services, we could still have a beer or something sometime.”
Paul smiled and nodded. It sounded like a good idea. As Mac left the room, he noticed suddenly that he had a strange, slightly salty, slightly metallic taste in his mouth. He stuck out his tongue but couldn’t see any blood or other liquids, and shrugged. He grabbed some mouthwash out of the bag and gargled quickly, spitting it out into the sink.
He packed up his gym bags and left his briefcase in the locker, locked it up, and headed outside, waving goodbye to Nikol as he did. There was no sign of Mac as Paul walked outside and up to his bike.
He reached his bike and unchained it, tucking the card into one of his gym bags. He attached the gym bags on either side of his bike seat, pulled off his shirt and stuffed it in the back of his shorts. He could see a man smoking a cigarette on the other side of the enclosure, staring at him as he packed up his bag. He grinned at the man and made a little extra show for him, making sure that he picked up the bike a few times to show off his muscles, and stretched a bit to let the breeze waft through the hair on his chest, still wet from the shower. He might not be gay, but he was really starting to get off on all the attention he was getting this week.
He pulled his iPod out of the bag and stuck it in his front pocket and attached the earplugs to his ears from the back. He turned it on, and listened to a news Podcast as he finished getting ready. The breeze off the lake played off his body, hardening his nipples and arousing him slightly. He felt himself stiffen in his shorts slightly, and turned toward the staring man, giving him even more of a show. He slowly got on the bike, testing the tires for deflation, and then sped out of the sidewalk and on to the street.
He took today at a strong pace, zipping through downtown Chicago and earning more than a few angry honks until he reached Lincoln Park. He decided to take the bike path today through the park, and travelled under the lush trees and garden pathways, zooming around the more casual bikers. As he entered the Boystown area, more than a few men were jogging shirtless down the trail. They gave him appraising looks as he sped down, and he laughed joyfully into the wind.
He turned off the park at the end, taking Sheridan down to Devon and then Broadway and on home. He must have made record time, he thought; the sun hadn’t even started to set behind the buildings. He chained up his bike and grabbed the front tire and seat, and jogged up the stairs to his third floor condo.
He could hear the phone ringing as he entered the spacious unit, and threw his gym bags down on the ground as he ran to it. He picked it up.
“Hello?” a soft tenor voice said on the other end of the line.
“Yes, who is this?” he said, idly running the sweat into his chest.
“It’s Mac,” the voice on the other end said. Odd, he hadn’t recalled giving Mac his number. “Did you have a good ride home?”
A wave of heat sped from one end of Paul’s body to the other, and a ringing started in his ears. He dropped the phone and walked to the window, peeling off his shorts and grabbing his erection in both hands. He watched Mac get out of a convertible sports car in his white suit, and saw him closing a flip-phone as he disappeared into the stairwell. He continued to jack himself off. Another biking soul pulled up to the bike rack and looked up, then did a double-take as he got an eyeful of what Paul was doing. The two seemed to stand there transfixed as Paul heard his door open. He said nothing as Mac silently crossed the floor and slid his arms beneath Paul’s own, pushing Paul up against his floor-length windows and causing Paul’s cock to flatten against the pane of glass. He left a smear of pre-cum against it as Mac slowly humped Paul through his suit. Mac leaned his head over Paul’s and knocked on the window, then grabbed Paul’s nipples and started squeezing. Paul just moaned and squirmed, leaving smears of precum against the pane.
The biker below seemed to regain his surroundings and hurried away. Mac chuckled and whispered one word into his ear, and Paul’s world went black.