Billy Gets Dad's Job Back

By Jay Roberts

Published on May 12, 2012

Gay

===If you have racked up less than eighteen years I would appreciate it if you would go to another location rated G or PG. This place and this story is for older dudes. Bu-bye!!!

Bill Wilson stood in front of Conrad Furst's office door. It was a curious door for an office, more like the front door of a luxurious mansion, what with the knocker arm clasped in a brass lion's mouth and the stain glass panel at the top.

Bill was a, twenty four year old, newly minted lawyer. Tomorrow would be his first day with Gregory and Goldblatt. He had been on his university law review and he was chosen over many candidates.

Bill Wilson didn't look like your usual young lawyer. He had been a wrestler in prep school and college and his broad shoulders and thick muscled legs and arms were a give away. His face was square, his recently shaved jaw was already making its faint regrowth. That beard and his determined expression, learned to intimidate opponents, were in place.

He needed to be tough and smart. This was a delicate mission. He was an only child of his widowed father who had sustained two shocks a month ago. The first was the sudden death of his friend and boss Norman Furst. The second was his interview with Norman's son Conrad, the day of the funeral.

"We are reorganizing the sales department and dispensing with the title Executive Salesman."

He must have been planning it as he had his father's separation pay ready. It was a shock for Bill's father. He had been with the company for twenty four years and had built up sales to it's present high level.

Bill had met Norman Wilson only once. The two men planned a fishing trip in the wealthy Wilson yacht. Bill remembered him as a tall, blond, spare fellow. The older men seemed to have a good time together.

Bill knew that there was a son about his age but he was almost always at boarding school. He hoped that their similar age might made it easier for Bill to win his mission.

He lifted the heavy knocker and let it fall with a loud noise. The door latch snapped open and an automatic door mechanism opened it wide. Looking into the room, Bill was amazed. It didn't look like any office he had ever seen. It was actually a livingroom, fireplace ablaze and fine furniture was placed invitingly around the room.

On a lush, leather-tufted, tuxedo couch lounged the figure of young Conrad Wilson. Bill saw the resemblance to the young man's father. The same slim figure, the same blond curly hair and the same handsome aquiline features, now softened with a smile. Bill admired the perfect teeth and the full pink lips.

"You are a handsome dude," Conrad said with a slightly cultivated New England accent, taking in the broad shoulders and prominent pecs pressing the white shirt out and seen as his jacket opened.

Now Bill realized that Conrad was clad in a blue silk dressing gown, his lower shapely legs exposed. At the side of the couch were his blue velvet, crested slippers. It was as if Bill was visiting a friend who was about to go to bed.

"I suppose you are here about your father. It is a pity, but one has to be practical. Wilson Steel must think of its stock holders and the new direction of the company will make them very pleased."

Bill took a deep breath. "My father is devastated. I came to plead that you reverse your position. He's only fifty-five and has years to give to the company."

"Dear fellow," began Conrad in an arch, affected voice, "Your father was likely kept in the company because of the er special relationship with my father."

"Special relationship?"

"You do know that your father was homosexual?"

"I, eh, no. You must be mistaken. What gave you that crazy idea." Bill's eyes were were blazing and he unconsciously bend forward, his hands ready to grapple his opponent.

"Relax wrestler boi. I few times when I came home for vacations I found your father and my father sharing a bedroom at the mansion. Many times I sat outside the door and heard their moans, groans and slurping."

"I had no idea. Dad was very virile."

"Typical response. Most homosexuals today are not swishy girls. Now I wonder, in spite of your super masculine appearance, that you may have inherited your father's genes."

This hit Bill hard. He had always known that there was a part of him that was sexually aroused by handsome boys. He had shoved it into the back of his consciousness and went to build an imagine of a straight athlete.

"Yes," continued Conrad in a lazy drawl, "Did you get a stiffy from pressing against those perky asses outlined in this sexy singlets? What about those big bulges?" He fanned himself in a stereo-typical way.

Bill's face felt hot. His usual ability to control himself had been breeched by this direct guy. He felt invaded. Then his attention snapped to intense alertness as the figure on the couch rose to a sitting position and Conrad said, "I might do a trade with you, for your father's sake. It might even be amusing."

"I'd do anything to help my Dad."

"You may regret those words, but I'm sure I won't." He stayed silent a bit, frowning and thinking. Finally his head snapped up and his mouth formed an insolent smile.

"What say we trade my putting your father back on the payroll, say as a part time trainer?"

"I don't know if that would be acceptable to him but at least he would be working here. What's the trade?"

"Ah, brace yourself, I want to sell that concession for you disrobing, completely, right now."

Bill stood rooted. That request was so unexpected. He already felt vulnerable coming here, hat in hand, begging on behalf of his father. But Conrad looked bemused, his eyebrows raised awaiting Bill's decision.

Now Bill as not ashamed of his body. It was perfectly formed and well muscled. As an athlete he was comfortable undressing in front of other males, but this was different, this guy would ogle him, perhaps make hurtful, or at least embarrassing remarks.

"You have one minute, otherwise this interview is over," Conrad said in a firm, authoritative voice.

Bill let out a long piteous sigh but sank down to sit on a foot stool to an easy chair opposite the couch where the blonde sat. Bill could hear his tortured breathing.

Bill kicked off his loafers, then slipped off his white crew socks. Suddenly his bare feet seemed too revealing, especially as Conrad commented, "Very nice feet. You take good care of them. I especially like the fuzzy hair on your instep and the three hairs on each toe. Lovely."

Bill frowned at the intimacy of those remarks but he pressed on. Next he unbuttoned his shirt. He put it aside and then jock style he crossed his hands and grabbed each side of his athletic shirt and whipped it over his head. It didn't muss his hair, he wore it marine style.

Now his full, muscular chest was exposed. He now became conscious of the patch of hair in the middle and the trail of soft hair heading down his pant's waist. Worse of all, he could get a faint whiff of his body odor from his wet his nervous sweat.

He quickly removed his pants and then his boxer shorts. He hated that he had randomly chosen a pair of short with pictures of strong men lifting dumbbells. Too cute. Now he stood, naked, sucking in his belly and bracing his chest like a West Pointer.

"You are one beautiful dude. And the reports, my investigators filed, of your large prick, were absolutely accurate. And to my delight, it seems a bit full. Are you getting excited by this trade?"

Bill almost choked expressing his denial but to his chagrin, and Conrad's delight, his felt it stiffening more and inexorably rising and stretching.

"It must be nine inches, and fat too."

"Nine and a quarter," Bill said before he could master himself.

"You measured it. How cute. You must have been celebrated at your prep school."

It was true. When his endowment was discovered in the showers, the news spread throughout the school and he constantly received requests to see it. He liked the idea that he was excelling a manly way.

There was silence as Conrad walked behind him and checked out his backside. Bill stood rigid, hoping this would be over shortly, but Conrad moved to his front and standing uncomfortable close his breath hitting Bill's check, said, "If you let me touch it, I will up my offer to a full time instructor's job with commensurate pay."

Again the eyebrows arched and a slight smile shown. Thoughts like 'in for a penny' ran through Bill's head. Finally he just nodded.

The handsome Conrad's slim hand grasped Bill's hot shaft and he just held it, enjoying the pulsing. Bill's chest deepened to accommodate the need of more oxygen.

End of Part One

Next: Chapter 2


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