Niceandbrutal
Yes, but-
- Joined
- Aug 27, 2013
- Posts
- 2,816
Scott Olsson stared dimly ahead, not really registering the conversations going on around him. His boss, drunk by equal amounts of booze and power, had just cracked an off-color joke and everyone had laughed sycophantically, Scott included. It was late friday evening, the first friday after payday, and tradition demanded that EVERYone at work went out for dinner and drinks. It was a nice enough tradition and Scott was blessed with (mostly) good colleagues, but for a while now Scott had felt more and more distant to his social and professional circles.
At 39, Scott felt that he was missing out on something. Sure, he'd mostly made all the right moves in his life. He was happily married to his high school sweetheart Marilyn, and they had two fairly well-adjusted teenage kids living with them in a nice suburban house in an equally nice neighbourhood. He hadn't lacked for adventure or excitement in his life either. He'd played a mean game of football in high school and he'd seen the bear and heard the owl while deployed abroad with the Army. He hadn't let himself go either. He worked out at least three times a week to keep his body in check and he watched his diet. Good genes took care of the rest: a muscular 6' body crowned by a full head of black hair with a few specks of white to mark the passage of years, dark blue eyes and a handsome face with a dark 5 o'clock shadow. In short, Scott had everything going for him. But still ...
Suddenly feeling alone in a crowd of familiar faces Scott thought to himself: What the hell is wrong with me? He was so self-absorbed that he missed a question directed at him.
"Huh?"
"I said, could you pick up the next round, Scotty?" It was his boss. He was deep into his drinks by now, and it showed. He was scooting closer and closer to one of the young saleswomen who was looking more and more like a deer staring into the headlights of an approaching car. It was clearly time for an intervention.
"I could use some help carrying them, boss. Would you mind?", Scott replied. Scott's boss grumbled, but got to his feet and followed Scott to the bar. When they were out of earshot of their colleagues, Scott placed a hand on his boss' shoulder: "Listen Harlan, I think we both can agree on the fact that Janice is a fine piece of ass. But try to get into her pants like you're doing now and she's got you by the balls. Well and truly by the balls, Harlan. Think about it: Your wife finds out, and it's your ass. She doesn't find out and Janice will threaten to expose you unless ... do I have to finish that sentence?"
Harlan looked at Scott like a confused bull would look at a bullfighter. Then he shook his head as he grinned slowly. "You're right, Scotty. I'll just have to think about her when I go home and fuck Rhonda tonight," he said with a grinning leer directed at Janice who pretended not to notice.
"As long as you shout out your wife's name when you cum you should be okay," Scott countered with a knowing wink and nudge, making his boss roar with laughter loud enough for several patrons to turn their heads and look annoyed at them. Scott wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor. He could hold his own when it came to raucous banter and dirty jokes, but he secretly found it to be so damn CRUDE. But he needed positive attention from his boss in a competitive workplace, and so Scott adapted.
They'd reached the bar and were in the process of picking up their order when it happened. Harlan turned around a little too quickly and bumped into a woman sitting by the counter, spilling drinks on her dress and down her back. In the ensuing kerfuffle, Harlan was hauled away by one of Scott's colleagues while Scott was left to apologize and look after the woman who'd been involuntarily baptized with liquor.
"I have to apologize for my boss. Too much bourbon in his bourbon, I'm afraid," he said as he helped her wipe off the sticky residue of mixed drinks. He couldn't help but notice she was very attractive, some years younger than himself. An awkward silence after they had done what they could for her dress and Scott had given her information on where to send the dry cleaning bill, then: "Is there anything I can do to make up for this? Buy you a drink, maybe? Or have you had enough?", he said, nodding at her dress, hoping a little cheesy humor could lift her mood.
At 39, Scott felt that he was missing out on something. Sure, he'd mostly made all the right moves in his life. He was happily married to his high school sweetheart Marilyn, and they had two fairly well-adjusted teenage kids living with them in a nice suburban house in an equally nice neighbourhood. He hadn't lacked for adventure or excitement in his life either. He'd played a mean game of football in high school and he'd seen the bear and heard the owl while deployed abroad with the Army. He hadn't let himself go either. He worked out at least three times a week to keep his body in check and he watched his diet. Good genes took care of the rest: a muscular 6' body crowned by a full head of black hair with a few specks of white to mark the passage of years, dark blue eyes and a handsome face with a dark 5 o'clock shadow. In short, Scott had everything going for him. But still ...
Suddenly feeling alone in a crowd of familiar faces Scott thought to himself: What the hell is wrong with me? He was so self-absorbed that he missed a question directed at him.
"Huh?"
"I said, could you pick up the next round, Scotty?" It was his boss. He was deep into his drinks by now, and it showed. He was scooting closer and closer to one of the young saleswomen who was looking more and more like a deer staring into the headlights of an approaching car. It was clearly time for an intervention.
"I could use some help carrying them, boss. Would you mind?", Scott replied. Scott's boss grumbled, but got to his feet and followed Scott to the bar. When they were out of earshot of their colleagues, Scott placed a hand on his boss' shoulder: "Listen Harlan, I think we both can agree on the fact that Janice is a fine piece of ass. But try to get into her pants like you're doing now and she's got you by the balls. Well and truly by the balls, Harlan. Think about it: Your wife finds out, and it's your ass. She doesn't find out and Janice will threaten to expose you unless ... do I have to finish that sentence?"
Harlan looked at Scott like a confused bull would look at a bullfighter. Then he shook his head as he grinned slowly. "You're right, Scotty. I'll just have to think about her when I go home and fuck Rhonda tonight," he said with a grinning leer directed at Janice who pretended not to notice.
"As long as you shout out your wife's name when you cum you should be okay," Scott countered with a knowing wink and nudge, making his boss roar with laughter loud enough for several patrons to turn their heads and look annoyed at them. Scott wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor. He could hold his own when it came to raucous banter and dirty jokes, but he secretly found it to be so damn CRUDE. But he needed positive attention from his boss in a competitive workplace, and so Scott adapted.
They'd reached the bar and were in the process of picking up their order when it happened. Harlan turned around a little too quickly and bumped into a woman sitting by the counter, spilling drinks on her dress and down her back. In the ensuing kerfuffle, Harlan was hauled away by one of Scott's colleagues while Scott was left to apologize and look after the woman who'd been involuntarily baptized with liquor.
"I have to apologize for my boss. Too much bourbon in his bourbon, I'm afraid," he said as he helped her wipe off the sticky residue of mixed drinks. He couldn't help but notice she was very attractive, some years younger than himself. An awkward silence after they had done what they could for her dress and Scott had given her information on where to send the dry cleaning bill, then: "Is there anything I can do to make up for this? Buy you a drink, maybe? Or have you had enough?", he said, nodding at her dress, hoping a little cheesy humor could lift her mood.
