The bulk scanner whined as sheets of paper slipped from the feeder and into the lighted depths of the machine. The faint chunk of the rollers vibrated through the floor as it scanned the pages before ejecting them into a large shredder bin on the floor. The barcode on each page would ensure the resulting image was filed with the proper tags in the document management system for Monday's work.
Chase sighed and rested his hands on the top of the feeder, enjoying the warmth that rose up from the impersonal plastic and seeped into his hands. He fought the urge to yawn and curl up against the scanner to get a few minutes of sleep while it processed the stack. The steady whine and thunks were peaceful and comforting.
Two days of not enough sleep had taken their toll. He could feel the ache in the back of his eyes and saw the dark shadows in the bathroom mirror. He closed his eyes slowly and then opened them. His eyes refused to focus and he just watched the blur of pages flutter into the machine. They were all responses to his company's mass mailings, threats to the hordes of BitTorrent porn downloaders culled from automated scanners. Each letter promised expensive court fees and humiliating public exposure unless the victim paid a few thousand dollars to settle.
He hated his job. He hated reading the letters that came back. Many of them were angry denials but scattered among them were the stories of poverty and hopelessness. His heart ripped every time there were pictures of children in the envelopes. There were more than he thought there would be.
Chase's job was simple. Pull out the checks and charge the credit cards. Everything else went into the second round where the threats escalate and the fees increase. There were three rounds before the company promised to drag its victims to court.
The rare person who ignored everything would find the case filed and then magically dropped. There was no profit in dragging anyone to court, the public filing detailing every sordid video did more than enough damage. It was hard enough to get a job when a background check brought up a court paperwork with names like “Ass Blasters 12” or “Barely Legal Latinos She-Males.”
He sighed and grabbed the next stack of responses. Tapping them lightly on the side of the scanner, he dropped them into place and rested his hand along the heated plastic. The deep throbbing and heat drove his thoughts back toward Yuri and his cock grew with his memories. He leaned against the scanner, imagining that he was wearing a short dress and Yuri had shoved him forward in preparation for impaling him.
The heat boiled inside him. He looked around and wondered if he could steal a few seconds to masturbate, the release the ache that quickly built in his balls. The scanning room was too small and didn't have a door. If he pulled his cock out, someone would catch him, but he needed relief from the boredom, despair, and his constant thoughts about Yuri during the day.
Chase thought about the bathroom. He had been using it more than a few times in the last few weeks to relieve the ache in his balls. On a late Friday afternoon, it would be abandoned and quiet.
Flushed, he inched over to the archway and peered down the hall. It was empty. Heart beating faster, he left the scanning room and headed for the bathroom. His cock strained his pants and he discretely shifted his cock in his trousers, shuddering from the ache.
He glanced around him guiltily, expecting someone to catch him. No one interrupted his path to the bathroom, but that didn't stop him from breathing a sigh of relief when he slipped inside.
The far stall was his typical spot. He almost ran to it, stepped inside, and slammed the door shut. Latching it shut with a shaking hand, he staggered back to the toilet and unbuckled his pants. His white underwear was soaked around his tip, the pre-cum soaked through the fabric.
Chase moaned as he sat down and freed his cock. It was a good sized one, six inches and relatively sturdy. His skin tingled as he wrapped his palm around it, stroking a few times to smear the pre-cum from the tip down the length. Breath coming faster, he tightened his grip and pumped faster.
It didn't long until the slurps and slick sounds echoed against the stall walls, punctuated by his barely contained moans. Droplets of cum fell into the bowl, splashing every time he squeezed his length. He closed his eyes and imagined Yuri against him, the large Russian's body dwarfing his.
The heat in his balls redoubled and he curled his toes in his shoes. He reached down with his other hand to join in, but it felt crowded. Not like Yuri's cock. Chase could barely wrap his hand around Yuri's thick shaft. The girth, the heat, the length all made him want it badly. He craved to feel it impaling his body, stuffing him to the gills until his balls slapped against his own.
A memory popped up, of Yuri standing behind Chase with his cock between Chase's thighs. Even from behind, the large man stuck out further than Chase's hardness.
Chase would have been jealous except that it was the hottest moment in his life: the feeling of Yuri's thick shaft sliding between his thighs, the thump of powerful hips against his buttocks, and the way Yuri held him pinned to the door. Everything mixed together into a single point of ecstasy that burned Chase even the next day.
His cock surged his hand and he cupped the tip to catch it. Jets of cum splattered against his palm, spraying it until the globs clung between his fingers along his ridges.
Chase gasped and leaned into it, thrusting his hips along the toilet seat with every imagined stroke of Yuri pumping his cock.
The outer door to the bathroom creaked open.
Chase gasped and clamped his hand over his spurting cock. Thick globs of cum oozed out from his fingers and splattered into the bowl. He looked up, heart pounding desperately, and winced with the last of his orgasm blasted out of his shaft.
The newcomer hummed to himself as he headed into the only other stall in the bathroom, the one next to Chase, and settled down. The rustle of clothes was a startling contrast to Yuri's own frantic breathing.
Cheeks burning with humiliation, Chase slowly aimed his cock inside the bowl and opened his palms. Loud splashes of cum hitting the water brought a wince from him, but the newcomer didn't seem to notice. He gulped and inched over to the toilet paper, gathering up enough to wipe down his cock. To his humiliation, he needed three handfuls to sop up his juices. Each time he pulled more of the roll, he could imagine the newcomer listening curiously.
He finished and stood back up, swaying. His heart still beat frantically and his cheeks burned. Maybe if he could leave before the other person left, he could escape with his dignity.
Chase headed out of the stall and washed his hands, no good smelling of cum. As he was soaping up his hands, he heard the other toilet flush.
Inwardly, he groaned but he kept his eyes focused on his hands as he lathered himself up and cleaned thoroughly.
The stall behind him opened. He glance up. It was Mr. Toll, the senior partner of the company. The older man was short, maybe a five foot even, with a shock of white hair and hazy eyes. He shuffled to the sink next to Chase to wash his hands. “Glad it's Friday, huh?”
Chase jumped at the voice, the burn in his cheeks growing hotter. “Y-Yes, sir.”
Mr. Toll sniffed.
Chase fought the urge to glance back at his stall. He bore down on his hands, rinsing them clear in water that was a bit too hot for his tastes. He didn't want to adjust it because it would increase the time he stood next to the owner of the law firm.
“Hot date for tonight?”
Chase stiffened. “What?” He looked over.
Mr. Toll grinned. “New girlfriend, right? Maybe… a week?”
Stunned, Chase could only nod. Chase was the girl in the relationship, the cross-dressing sissy who wanted cock, but it was startling accurate. He thought about Yuri's body pressed against his and realized that his sated shaft was already responding to his thoughts. He tried to clamp down on it and gave another helpless nod.
“Well, it's four and no one else is here, so why don't you head home?”
“Sir? What about the scanning? Mr. Simm gave me a quota.”
“Fuck Dave, if he has a problem, he can talk to me.”
Chase's jaw opened as the old man grinned back.
“Besides, how much work are you getting done if you are jerking off in here?”
Chase froze, his sphincter tightening painfully and his heart slamming against his ribs. The world spun around him as he stared at the senior partner.
Mr. Toll pointedly sniffed and then gestured toward Chase's crotch. Turning around, he headed toward the door. “Get laid and come back on Monday to focus on your job. Have a good weekend, Chase.”
As soon as the door closed, Chase let out a long whimper. Mr. Toll knew who he was. By name. And that he was jerking off.
Still shaking, he peered down. There was a long streamer of cum splattered against the front of his pants, a white line that slowly rolled down the rough fabric.