Jumping the Fence

Slipping in through the conference room’s back door, Kevin tried for unobtrusive, a tough pull at six-foot-one. Still, the meeting was a big one and there were probably fifteen people gathered around the room’s big oak table. No time to hunt for a seat, Kevin grabbed the first available -- next to Durrance, naturally. The pre-meeting banter was just beginning to die down as he dropped into the vacant chair.

“Thanks for making time, y’all. I know everybody’s super busy, but I’d like to get an update from everyone on where y’all stand with the transition. Margaret, could we start with you?”

Still unsettled by his dream, Kevin only glanced briefly at Helen at the head of the table before allowing his gaze to focus on the notebook he’d brought with him, and his thoughts to wander. It would take a good twenty minutes for Helen, the project’s lead, to work her way around the table to him. That meant he had eighteen minutes to ruminate on what the hell was wrong with him.

It wasn’t like he was gay, or anything.

Fuck, no. As much as they drove him crazy, he’d always done fine with women. Kevin knew he was okay-looking. He was no Brad Pitt, but he wasn’t a troll, either. Women liked him fine.

But, Jesus, lately they were driving him over the edge. They wanted it. They didn’t want it. They didn’t do it on the first date. Didn’t give head. Could they just kiss? Not with the lights on. It made his head want to implode just thinking about it. Whatever they possessed that passed for a thought process was totally alien to him.

Maybe that was why, more and more lately, Kevin found himself thinking about other guys. Not like in a gay way, or anything. But just about meeting up with another guy, maybe stroking each other’s tools, checking it out. He’d like to give a hand job. Or a B.J. God. Just thinking about it got him hard.

The chair next to him creaked as Durrance chose that moment to shift in his seat. Kevin’s eyes flicked automatically to the new guy’s crotch. An image of what the other man might have hidden there flashed into Kevin’s mind. In an instant, he pictured himself running his fingers down the sides of it, feeling the fully engorged shape of it, comparing it to his own. Would it be short and thick? Long and curved? What about the color? And the taste? He imagined taking it into his mouth...

Christ! He yanked his thoughts back to the meeting. Rodriguez from Marketing was droning on, as usual. Kevin hoped what he’d been thinking didn’t show on his face, and glanced over at Durrance.

The other man was looking back at him.

Oh, shit. He couldn’t help himself. Kevin kept looking. And felt his cock, already half hard from his fantasizing, swell even more. Durrance’s gaze dipped for the briefest split-second to Kevin’s lap, where, Kevin knew, his baggy chinos couldn’t entirely hide what was happening to him. The expression on the other man’s face didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes, and Kevin knew that he knew. Shit, shit, shit.

Kevin closed his eyes and looked away just as Bhapodra from Finance, sitting next to him, began the report.

Shit, shit, shit.