The businessman

(Originally Posted by YearEnds)

I sat on a park bench not far from the office building where I was just another manager, but from here I felt like I was in my own little world. It was a nice spring day, neither too hot nor too cold. The view was, as always on clear days, wonderful. The city's skyline was gorgeous and the light reflected off the water beyond.

Of course, I also appreciated the other people who came to the park during lunch. I probably would have been jogging like a lot of them, but I'd let myself go a little over the years and while I could walk a fair ways, running for more than a few minutes left me quite winded, and besides, I wasn't wearing the proper shoes. So instead I sat on the bench, eating the vegetable sandwich my wife had nagged me into making.

"Hey," said a young guy next to me. I hadn't noticed him sit down. "I'm Jack." He stuck out his hand as I wiped mine on a handkerchief after finishing my sandwich.

Suddenly I felt uncomfortably overdressed. I hadn't felt like that since my first few months of wearing suits, which I started when I began my M.B.A., but for some reason this teenager in a T-shirt and shorts made me feel as if what he was wearing was what everyone should wear, and that wearing a suit made me look ridiculous.

I gripped his hand firmly. My company was an advertising firm, after all, so I felt I had a duty to our clients to make a good impression on the young man. I figured that what I did might well come up during whatever brief conversation we had. "I'm Keith," I said. "Nice to meet you."

Jack looked pensive for a moment, then gestured to a particularly attractive woman running by. "What if I were to tell you," he said, "that I'm God?"

"I'd say you're crazy or lying." Somehow I felt compelled to be completely honest.

Jack nodded his head. "I thought you'd say that. Well, actually, I knew you'd say that. So how about I prove it. How'd you like a blowjob? Right here, right now, and nobody will care."

"From who? You? Sorry, I don't swing that way."

"Nah, not me. I mean, I could make you want one from me--or make you want to give me one--but"--and he gestured to the same woman, who had stopped to tie her shoe--"I was talking about her."

Some part of me felt this was wrong, but I said, "Sure. Make her give me head. If you can," I finished with a bit of a challenging tone.

Jack crooked a finger and, as the woman stood up, instead of continuing along the path, she crossed it and knelt in front of me.

I opened my mouth, but found myself unable to speak. This anonymous woman, whom I had never met before, reached for my pants and, deftly undoing the button and opening my fly, reached into my underwear and pulled out my penis. Her soft hands quickly got me rock hard and it wasn't long before I felt my member in the warmth of her mouth.

Her tongue worked expertly over my dick, and I leaned back and moaned a little as she reached further and began tickling my scrotum. My wife Janet was pretty skilled at this sort of thing, and I'd enjoyed many a wake-up blowjob from her, but she had nothing on this chick.

"Anyway," said Jack, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, "I'll leave you to your pleasures, and all the ones that will come to you in future." He patted me on the back and I felt something weird. When I looked at him again, he seemed somehow diminished, as if he had had a great weight lifted from him, only to bear a greater one.

I fumbled in a pocket. "Here, have this," I said, proffering my card.

"I won't need it," he said with a smile. "I'd say 'Be seeing you,' but I won't. Not for a good long while, anyway." Without another word he stood up and began walking down the path. It seemed to me that I was the only person who could see him, even though everyone just moved around him. As I watched him go, he just faded away as if he had never been.

I turned my attention back to the woman still giving me fantastic oral. Suddenly I felt myself spurting my seed down her throat. The orgasm, which felt better than any I'd had before, lasted for what seemed like an eternity--though checking my watch I knew it was only about thirty seconds--and as I finished, I felt her withdraw her mouth. Her tongue lingered, though, licking me clean, and from somewhere she produced a cloth and wiped my cock dry, as if giving random blowjobs to strangers was something that she did so often she carried around stuff she needed for it regularly. She seemed almost reverent as she carefully tucked my dick and balls back into my underwear and did up my pants. Then she got up and sat down beside me on the bench.

Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, I let silence reign for a bit until it became unbearable.

"Well, thank you, I guess," I said lamely. "I don't know why I let you..." I trailed off.

"No, no, it's okay," she said. "I--I wanted to. I don't know why, I just wanted to."

"Look, I really should make this up to you, but I'm married, so my wife might get suspicious if I start buying gifts for a random stranger, or going to restaurants without her, or anything like that. But here's my card, so maybe you can call me?"

"Sure. I'll give you my number too," and as she fumbled around, clearly having nothing to write with or on, I took out another card and a pen and offered them to her, "so here you go." She returned the second card and the pen and I stuck the card in a different pocket. "By the way, I'm Krystal."

"Keith."

"Be seeing you?"

"Maybe. Look, I've got to get back to work," I said, gesturing vaguely toward my building.

"Of course," she said, looking at my card.

"What do you do, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Personal trainer," she said. "And yeah, I've got to get going, too." She offered her hand and I took it, making a mental note to wash my hands as soon as I got back to the office.

I walked leisurely as Krystal went back to her jog. Somehow everything seemed sharper, clearer, as if I were seeing things as they really were. I didn't think much of it. It was probably just the aftermath of the great oral I'd just received.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I dealt with some clients, including one that had been particularly obstinate about trying to get a lower rate. Somehow, though, he just agreed to our normal price this time. Maybe he'd realized that it would take a job far larger than his, and a history with us far longer than his, to get any sort of special treatment.

There was also a meeting. I was more or less in the middle of the hierarchy among those attending, but for some reason whenever I made a suggestion everyone just agreed with me. Normally any suggestion was met with a storm of argument, and that was still the case for anything anyone else said, but nobody raised any objections to anything I threw out.

Even my car was working fine. I could've sworn that I needed to refill the tank, and I knew there was something wrong with the suspension, but the vehicle ran better than it ever had, even when I'd bought it new, and the tank was full.

I got home and collapsed on the couch after changing. It wasn't that I felt tired or anything, it was just what I always did. I turned on the TV to catch the start of a football game. The local team was across the country. If they won, they were in the playoffs, but pretty much all the bookmakers had them as 20.5-point underdogs. Even the most optimistic still listed them at -18.5.

"I don't care how they win," I said quietly to myself, "just let them win."

Being a nationally televised game, there were plenty of commercial breaks, and I used the first one to make some popcorn in the microwave and grab a beer from the fridge. I laid down and prepared to watch the team get clobbered.

But as the game went on, I became more and more enthralled. The game went back and forth, the teams matching touchdown for touchdown, field goal for field goal. By the time the clock was winding down on the fourth quarter, I was on my third bowl of popcorn and fifth beer. I knew that I should have felt a bit bloated and very buzzed, but I still felt just as good as I had when Krystal was giving me head.

Thankfully my bowl and bottle were empty as the road team completed a two-point conversion with ten seconds on the clock to win 44-43, as I jumped up and shouted in joy. It had been quite a few years since the team had been in the playoffs. I hoped they'd win next week so they could have a home game.

I turned off the TV as the commentators came on. I liked watching sports, but the analysis was always so inane. Just as well, too, since at that point Janet came in. She worked afternoon shifts at a local grocery store. My salary was good, to be sure, but I wasn't making so much that her wages were a drop in the pond.

I kissed her on the cheek. "Hi, honey," I said.

"Hi, honey," she said, returning the kiss. She took off her shoes and sat down hard on the couch. "Could you get..." She trailed off, clearly exhausted, but I knew what she was getting at.

"Sure," I said, holding out my hand to catch the keys she tossed me. I went into the garage and popped the trunk on her sedan.

Four full bags of groceries, as usual. Her employee discount came in handy when it came to saving on groceries, but I never looked forward to her biweekly shopping days. I'd almost put my back out quite a few times carrying in the bags, and always needed two trips.

This time, though, the bags felt lighter than usual, and I was able to carry all four easily. Somehow I just knew where everything went, even though Janet had what had seemed an incomprehensible system for putting things in cupboards or the fridge. I figured I had just finally gotten used to it. I had been asking fewer questions of her the last few times she did this, after all.