dirty little secret gay erotica story

Dirty Little Secret – A Gay Erotica Finalist Story

Tim kept his hands in his pockets as he sauntered down the hall. He’d worried that finding Jonathan’s office would take time. But, with all the floor-to-ceiling glass, he’d see his face before a name plaque.

dirty little secret gay erotica story

A few passing suits shot him odd looks, but no one stopped him. He smiled at the one woman with the nerve to meet his eyes, silently daring her to say something about his ripped jeans, tattoos, and unruly curls. She averted her eyes and walked on.

The sun nearly blinded Tim as he rounded a corner and squinted into the nearest office. The knot in his chest relaxed as he saw Jonathan hunched over and chewing on a pen. His broad shoulders painted a new tower in the silhouetted skyline behind him. Tim slowed to appreciate Jonathan unwatched and gave the door a single, lazy knock.

Jonathan looked up. Blue ink smudged his bottom lip. “Tim?” He huffed out a sigh. “I’m at work.”

“So?” Tim leaned against the doorframe. He bit down on a smile as Jonathan’s eyes skipped down his lean body. “Tell them I’m here to buy insurance.”

“You know I don’t sell insurance.”

Tim shrugged and stepped into the room. He closed the glass door to feign privacy and dragged his fingers over Jonathan’s polished desk. “I missed you.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

He reached for Jonathan’s tie but missed as the other man slid away. Tim raised an eyebrow. He rounded the desk and watched as Jonathan turned his chair to face him. Tim read him well. His tired eyes and the straight set of his mouth did not belie exasperation. His heavy exhale sounded breathless, not annoyed. Tim smirked and placed his knee on the chair.

“Tim—”

“Shh,” he murmured. He grasped Jonathan’s shoulder and straddled him. Jonathan’s breath hitched; his eyes darted to the glass wall. Before he could protest, Tim stole his words with a kiss. He swiped his tongue over Jonathan’s bottom lip as he pulled away. Their noses grazed. Tim settled down, feeling Jonathan’s strong thighs beneath his.

“Everyone can see you.” The warning lost weight when paired with a heavy hand on Tim’s upper thigh. Jonathan’s fingers dug into the denim as his eyes flashed between the windows and Tim’s spit-slicked lips. “Everyone can see—”

“Us?” He dragged his thumb down Jonathan’s lip.

Jonathan sighed. “Not wanting my coworkers to see you straddling me at work is not the same thing as being ashamed of you. And if you came all this way to seduce me into an argument—”

“Who’s seducing you?” Tim rolled his hips. “I came for lunch.”

“It’s two p.m.”

Tim leaned in, his breath brushing against Jonathan’s neck, his lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “Okay, maybe I have ulterior motives.” He pressed a soft kiss beneath his earlobe and another on his neck. He felt Jonathan’s dick twitch. As he smiled, his teeth grazed skin. “Is the employee bathroom safe?”

“I…” Jonathan scrubbed a hand down his face. His other still gripped Tim’s thigh, dangerously close to his ass. “There’s so much work and… and… the deadlines… I… baby, I can’t just—”

Tim kissed away the next excuse. Then he kissed his chin, his Adam’s apple, the hollow of his throat, and slipped to the floor. He dragged his hands down Jonathan’s chest as he settled under the desk. Looking up, he caught the undisguised awe in Jonathan’s pupil-blown eyes. Tim chuckled as he dragged the chair forward.

“Tim, this is—”

“Perfect.” He caressed the back of Jonathan’s shin and shifted forward. He kissed the inside of his thigh. “No one will see me down here. I’ll be your dirty little secret.”

Jonathan’s jaw tensed, and he glanced away. Black stubble peppered his chin, so light Tim hadn’t noticed when he kissed him. He wondered what had distracted perfectly polished Jonathan from his shave. Three days had passed since Jonathan last deigned to step foot in Tim’s basement apartment, so he knew it wasn’t him. Who else had the privilege of watching Jonathan pick his office persona up off the floor and dress?

“Did you come here to blow me or argue?” Jonathan said.

Tim hated to admit it was both. Jonathan fucked better when mad, and he blew a fuse if Tim implied he was slumming it. But Tim felt nice, so instead of answering, he ran his hands up Jonathan’s legs. Leaning forward, he pressed a sharp kiss to Jonathan’s knee and tugged at the slick fabric of his slacks. Jonathan sighed as if condemning himself to an awful punishment. Typing echoed across the desk.

He popped the button on Jonathan’s slacks and undid the zipper. Jonathan graciously shifted his hips, allowing Tim to pull down his pants and expose the maroon lace beneath. Tim’s mouth watered as a thousand questions raced through his mind. Did Jonathan know he would come? Did he wear them for himself? Was there someone at the office undressing him? The words swirled through a thick haze of arousal as Tim licked across the panties’ waistband. When Jonathan responded with a thin hum, the questions disappeared.

Tim mouthed at the lace, scratching his tongue. His thumbs massaged Jonathan’s inner thigh muscles. His tongue toyed with the temptation to touch Jonathan’s bulging cock. The lace barely contained it; the wet tip slipped out the edge.

Tim kissed up Jonathan’s happy trail as he slid the panties aside. He wrapped his hand around Jonathan and stroked teasingly. Arousal burned in his belly. Jonathan’s typing faltered. Tim’s kisses fell to the base of his cock, and he settled his own throbbing crotch against a sneaker heel. 

As he touched his lips to the tip, he glanced upwards. Jonathan chewed his bottom lip and kept his eyes on the computer screen. Tim pressed his tongue against the slit and Jonathan flinched, his foot nudging Tim’s shin.

Tim liked to play the bitch. He pretended to hate inattention and secrecy, but he got off on being ignored and trying not to be. He wrapped his lips around the cock, and his eyes fluttered closed. He swirled his tongue and hollowed his cheeks as he slid upwards. The fabric of Jonathan’s slacks bunched in his hands as hardness filled his mouth. Jonathan swore softly.

Tim licked back down nice and slow. His erection rubbed against the hard sole of his sneaker; pleasure and pain flooded him in equal measure. As he worked, he hummed along Jonathan’s length, and all thoughts left his head. The clarity of the act used to surprise him, but now, he felt at home on his knees. He relished the stretch of his jaw, the weight against his tongue, and the discomfort of kneeling on a hardwood floor. If Tim could remove his grasp on Jonathan, he would palm himself as he sucked. Luckily, denial fed his arousal.

“Timothy…” Jonathan warned. His fingers threaded through Tim’s hair and tugged. Tim gasped, losing rhythm, and then moaned as he was pulled forward. The punishment felt unfair – Tim hadn’t meant to be a tease – but he hated to protest.

Jonathan shifted forward, and Tim’s throat fluttered around the intrusion. He focused on the nails scraping his scalp as he was held at the base of Jonathan’s cock. When he whimpered, Jonathan’s grip loosened.

Tim redoubled his efforts and ran his tongue along the vein. He pressed his crotch against Jonathan’s shin. Jonathan kept his strong, callused fingers in his curls. As much as Tim wished he would hold him down and fuck his throat raw, Jonathan always insisted that was unnecessarily dangerous.

The office door clicked open. Tim heard it as he settled at the base. Jonathan’s grasp tightened and he shifted the chair forward to better hide their activity. Tim swallowed a whimper as the pressure on his throat increased. He blinked tears from his eyes.

“Jonny, you have those reports ready yet?” a chipper voice said.

Saliva pooled in Tim’s mouth.

“Of course. Right here.”

The chair twisted as Jonathan moved and Tim gagged. Jonathan forced a chuckle. “Must be the chair.”

A long silence followed. Tim waited to hear the door or another word. His throat ached. He wondered how long he’d spent with his lips spread and dick hard while Jonathan checked his goddamn emails.

Papers flipped and the voice said, “Are you coming to drinks later?”

“Maybe.”

Maybe? Tim might murder him after he swallowed his come.

“Please come. I can’t handle Sandra alone. And you know Albert will be—”

“Yes, of course.”

Tim barely resisted the urge to bite down. As if Jonathan read his mind, he stroked Tim’s hair. Tim wanted to scream and upend the desk. He’d get Jonathan fired if it wouldn’t end their non-relationship for good.

“I’ll have to bring my boyfriend,” Jonathan added. “We have plans.”

Tim melted. His jaw softened and, as whatever coworker gave whatever response, he licked Jonathan’s cock. He felt fingers tense in his curls and tongued the slit as the door clicked. Without giving them time to escape down the hall, Tim dove back in to swallow Jonathan’s pulsing hardness.

Jonathan’s tension lasted a moment more before he leaned back with a groan. His thighs spread wider, pushing the lace panties upwards, and Tim moaned as they grazed his chin. He needed to taste his boyfriend, wanted more than the salt of sweat and pre-come on his tongue. Jonathan’s hand slid from his hair to his cheek, thumbing his own length in Tim’s jaw. Tim felt a tear escape his eye as Jonathan pulled out.

Tim settled on his heels, hard cock testing his skinny jeans, and watched. Cheeks flushed and pupils dark, Jonathan tucked himself into the dark red lace. He zipped up his now-wrinkled blue slacks.

“Don’t just sit there.” Jonathan’s tongue swept across his lips. “The employee bathroom will have to do if we’re getting drinks later.”