Chapter 1
I have the same dream every night. My room is dark and we’re writhing on the bed. My lover is a tall, muscular man, with a ramrod of steel, and he knows how to use it! This mystery man rides my ass like a runaway train, one hand like a vice gripping my left thigh, the other pumping my cock until our mutual groans echo in the darkness. His weight on my back, the scent of our sex, drives me to oblivion. The orgasm is always too intense, and still I want more. As I reach for him, my alarm goes off—it’s seven o’clock in the morning, time to get up. Shit!
My bed is usually soaked from sex and sweat when I wake up. I can almost feel the soreness in my ass like a firebrand, the dream seems so real. As I take a very cold shower, my skin tingles from the memory of fierce lovemaking. I wish it were real.
* * * *
It’s eight o’clock—and a Friday, thank God. I’ve dressed my slender five foot eight inch frame, checked my blonde hair, yet again (I really need to touch up those red highlights), and lock up my one bedroom apartment. I live on the ground floor, so I hear all the arguments and screaming children, the lackluster sex that takes place all around and above me—wham, bam, no thank you, ma’am, courtesy of my very thin walls. Unfortunately I haven’t had anyone over to my place in a while to return the favor. But this is a new day—anything can happen, right? Michael Stein, your dream man is just around the corner!
I decide to walk to work. It’s sunny and cool, and I can get my caffeine fix—a green tea latte—at Starbucks on the way.
* * * *
Downtown Office Suppliers, Inc., where I am employed, is an office supply company, located in the heart of downtown Atlanta, Georgia. The building has five floors, the top three of which house supplies. The first and second floors are for the staff, and I work on the first floor as a receptionist. Dress is ‘neat’ casual (no daisy dukes allowed—damn!).
I start my shift on time at nine o’clock. It’s not a bad job, really, though I would never have thought being a receptionist would be in my job description, not with a Business degree from Georgia Tech. But you have to start somewhere, right?
The phone rings non-stop until noon, when I take my lunch break. Sheila Langston, my best friend and coworker, walks with me to Tacoland to get some grub.
“So did you have that lusty man in your bed again last night?” she asks around a mouthful of a sumptuous-looking beef taco.
Sheila knows all about my love affair with Mr. Muscles, and wants to borrow him so he can give her current boyfriend some tips.
“Of course, I did! He ismy sex life, after all.” I smirk. My chicken taco is delicious, by the way.
“Michael, while I envy the ‘passion’ in your dream life, you need to find a real man. What about one of the drivers?” she asks, taking a sip of her soda.
I roll my eyes. Nothing against any of our drivers, but they don’t do anything for me. Oh, and it doesn’t help that they’re always talking about vaginas, breasts, and their latest female conquest. Hello?Not interested! Plus they know I’m gay and avoid me like the plague. It would rub off, you see, and not in a good way.
Sheila and I talk about her boyfriend Chuck (no, not Norris, sadly, because even he would be an improvement) as we walk back to work. He lives in Conyers and works as a truck driver for NAPA. She sees him once a week at her house in Lithonia when he’s in town.
“He’s nice enough,” she says, “but he could use some tips in sex etiquette—having an orgasm in five minutes and then turning over to snore may satisfy him but it does nothing for me.” She usually ends up pleasuring herself, not that I needed to hear that part.
* * * *
The afternoon calls aren’t as frequent, thankfully, which gives me some time to catch up on paperwork. There’s a meeting scheduled for three o’clock—a new client. His name is Christian Bolster. Mmmm, he sounds yummy. Our typical clientele includes manufacturing facilities, and the occasional specialty chain. I’ve put together a package on Chris (that’s how I think of him) for the meeting. He owns a chain of specialty ‘body’ stores, offering everything you would ever need to feel pampered. They’re located all across the Northeast and Midwest, and he’s just opened a store in Atlanta, at Lenox Mall in Buckhead. His manufacturing facility is located in BostonHe sounds so hot! I wonder if he’s gay.