The elevator ride

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• Latest update: 19 September. Next update: 3 October. (Submissions welcome.)

• Latest from BRK: “Return of the cocksucking fleshsock”; “Jocktaur pledge”; “Remodel”, Part 2.

 

“Man, this is such a long elevator ride every day. And I get bored so easily.”

“I hear you.”

“You’re lucky. You’re so tall you’ll get there sooner than I will.”

“Heh, maybe a half a second.”

“More than that. You’re, like, seven feet tall. Right? You’re practically already there.”

“You’d think.”

“Wow, nice smile.”

“Thanks.”

“Really nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Hmm. The, uh, doorways in this building are all pretty high, at least, so that’s a good thing. Less ducking for you.”

“Definitely. It’s actually one of the reasons I took this job.”

“I hear that. So what do you do up on 74, anyway?”

“Oh, tall stuff.”

“Funny. For real though?”

“Forensic accounting.”

“Really?”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, you’re gorgeous.”

“I’m not—”

“Like, model handsome.”

“Um—”

“Deep, sexy voice, too. See, that’s why I was sure they’d have you in sales or something, charming the clients.”

“Hey, I like accounting. And I’m good at it.”

“I’m sure you’re great at it.”

“Don’t laugh, I am.”

“And anyway, you’ve got that beautiful, lush shoulder-length hair. In sales you’d probably have to cut it like a douche.”

“Probably.”

“It’s such rich shade of… mm, dark mahogany. Yeah. With, like, auburn highlights. Really hot.”

“I… guess. So you’re, what, in marketing?”

“Digital marketing, but yeah. How’d you know?”

“It’s because of how reserved and reticent you are.”

“I do tend to blurt things out. Helps in my line of work.”

“Must be nice, getting paid to say whatever pops into your head.”

“Keeps me busy. Not that I meet someone it works this well on very often.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just… you don’t mind me talking about you like this.”

“Naw.”

“So it’s no big deal no matter what I say.”

“I’m pretty laid back.”

“I can tell. Man, I can’t get over how handsome you are. Piercing blue eyes under dark eyebrows, excellent cheekbones, firm jaw… perfect warm tawny skin, a mouth you just want to kiss…”

“…Thanks?”

“You smell nice, too. Your scent is really masculine, but also subtly delicious, like a well-seasoned steak. What is that, Nautica? Bulgari?”

“I’m… not wearing any cologne.”

“I should have guessed. You sure you don’t mind me talking like this?”

“By this point I’m mostly amused.”

“Well, I have a thing for tall, handsome guys.”

“Clearly.”

“It doesn’t hurt that you’re obviously built like an Olympic swimmer and then some under the suit. Thick pecs, strong arms, cut eight-pack, great legs, round hard butt. You should be proud.”

“I am, actually. It took a lot of hard work.”

“Less for you than most, though. Right? You were buff before you even started working out, I can totally picture it.”

“Well—”

“And you clearly put on muscle easy if you want. You probably have to hold back, right, or you’ll get too big?”

“Yeah, kind of. I mostly work out for tone and definition these days.”

“And strength. You’re very strong.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just a hunch.”

“I am pretty strong.”

“It’s a big turn-on, just knowing you’re twice as strong as you look.”

“I’ve heard that a few times.”

“I bet. And the best part is, you don’t act like you’re as hot as you are.”

“I’m… not that hot.”

“Uh huh. You’re hot as fuck, and you know it. You’re just not an asshole about it.”

“I guess. You’re not too bad looking either, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“For a short guy.”

“Hey, I’m 6’3”.”

“Whatever, halfling. Take a compliment.”

“Thanks. I guess I’m good-looking enough. If you’re not tired of lanky, blond boyband types like I am.”

“I have nothing against boybands. As long as they’re just standing around looking pretty and not actually performing.”

“Hey, I said ‘boyband types’. I’m not actually in a boy band.”

“You could be, just sayin’.”

“Maybe I’ll try that if I get tired of marketing. And chatting up hot guys in elevators.”

“There you go. The look does work for you.”

“Thanks. I’m not one of those one-in-a-million four-armed guys everyone loves like you, though. Hey where do you get your suits, anyway?”

“Oh, uhh, there’s a tailor’s in the Battery that does this kind of stuff. Nice old lady, her son’s a four-armer.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s, I dunno, four or five of us in town that need business suits and dress shirts. Keeps them busy along with the regular-guy work.”

“I bet. You guys are always really good at your jobs, so you can afford nice suits like this. What about away from work? There must be tee shirts, v-necks, henleys, that kind of thing. Even in extra-tall.”

“Sure.”

“You probably mostly go shirtless away from work, though. Show off your hairy chest.”

“I guess, if it’s warm enough. I do have plenty of shirts. My two-armed brother keeps buying me funny tee shirts and stuff in my size, like I can’t find them myself.”

“He’s not jealous, though.”

“No, he’s great. He just sees four-armed stuff and thinks of me. He keeps sending me stuff about that four-armed Bollywood actor, too.”

“Oh… yeah, I’ve seen him. He’s pretty sexy.”

“Yeah.”

“Not as hot as you, but pretty hot.”

“Thanks.”

“What about at work? Are the other accounting guys jealous of you and your extra hands?”

“Naw. It’s not like I can type with four hands at once.”

“So then what do you do with the other two? Wink, wink.”

“That would be telling.”

“I mean, all four-armed guys have two giant footlong dicks, that’s what I heard. Is that what your other hands—?”

“Oh, stop with your smirking. Honestly, if I had a nickel for every time someone joked about what I was doing with my extra hands…”

“C’mon. You’ve got two wrist-thick dicks that are a foot long soft. Your tailor’s good, but it’s not like you can hide that bulge.”

“Yeah, well. It’s still work. What, do you molest yourself at your desk while you’re working?”

“Maybe I will today.”

“Hmm… I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“There’s that smile again. It’s extra-cute with the eye-roll.”

“Thanks.”

“So, should I take it from your earlier remarks about me not being hideous—”

“I said you’re not bad looking. And yeah, I’m bi.”

“Hah! So that means—”

“No jokes about one for girls and one for boys! Geez. I got plenty of that in high school.”

“I’ll bet that isn’t all you got plenty of.”

“Har, har.”

“It’s true, though, right? Four-armed guys like you have a pretty high libido. And, like, incredible stamina. You can cum ten times a night and you’re still blowing way more jizz than a regular guy on the last—aw, look, you’re blushing!”

“It’s, uh, not like I’m always talking about how much I jizz.”

“It is a lot, though.”

“Yeah.”

“Ever slip into the one-seater bathroom at work and, you know, take care of things?”

“Um, sometimes.”

“Awesome.”

“It can get—well, like you said. High libido.”

“Your team members are some of the best-looking people in the company. Super attractive.”

“True that. I have to admit, it’s distracting sometimes, working with them. Especially Chad, the fucker.”

“Sounds like a problem. I heard he’s extra twunky like me. Totally your type.”

“Unfortunately. I had to duck out twice this week just because of him.”

“Wow.”

“And he’s married, and his husband’s just as gorgeous. Comes by at lunch, they’re twice as hot together.”

“Unfair.”

“We’re working late tonight, too, big project. Just thinking about it—”

“I can imagine. So I gotta ask—when you sneak off to help yourself out, do you just use your hands, or—?”

“Or—? Oh. Yeah, I… use my mouth too. It’s, ummm, less messy that way. Why?”

“No reason. Oh, here’s your floor.”

“Yeah. Um, hey—”

“Trevor.”

“Aiden. Listen, Trevor, I gotta… ummm… and, honestly, it’s totally your fault…”

“You asking me for a hand? That’s ironic.”

“I’m… actually kind of asking you for a mouth.”

“Fuck. And that smile. Fine, lead the way. My mouth is all yours. And the rest of me with it.”

“I might take you up on that.”


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