Office Stress Part 3: Bringing Work Home
#3 of Office Stress
Okay, let's see... Vincent thought, warm bath running, peach-scented body soap ready (hehe), scented oils in the water already (mmm, magnolia), special loofah ready, and of course, Mr. Long (hehehehehe)... The long-neck giggled to himself, eyeing the twelve inch, fist-thick leaf green phallus that lay in a basket next to the polished steel bathtub, specially recommended by his close friend Matt Shields. The boy knows his dildos, he mused.
The tall, sandy-skinned herbivore stood in his bathroom wearing a long floral design bathrobe, listening to the hot water run into the tub. It was the first day of his full two week vacation, and he'd planned to spend the first several days at home, relaxing and planning for long days of romance- alone and with a few select lovers.
Today was bath day. He'd already had a nice full breakfast with a half pound of grapes, two fat juicy oranges, and half a head of lettuce stuffed with diced tomatoes, garlic cloves, spinach, and sprinkled with feta cheese. A carton of orange juice followed, and even Van himself was surprised by the amount of urine his bladder relinquished afterward. Almost as much as that styrac covered me with that time at the creek... Van was hardly into 'marking' but the memory made his cock pulse in remembrance.
Shutting off the water just as it reached the three-quarters-full mark, Van purred to himself in pleasure as he clicked on the small pink stereo by the bath, letting the Forest Sounds soundtrack play as he prepared to slip off the robe and step into the steaming bath.
His calm inner flow came to a screeching halt as he heard the doorbell ring. Goddamnit, not now! he groaned. He paused, biting his lip as he eyed the huge dildo lying enticingly in the woven basket, erect like a lover quietly awaiting his ass's embrace. The bell rang again, and again a half second later.
"Who the hell...?" he grumbled aloud. He hated it when his girly moments were spoiled. He paused at the door, making sure his robe covered himself properly and tried to smooth his expression. No telling who was on the other side of the door, even Matt, though he hadn't heard the truck approaching. He opened the door, peering outside.
"... Tibbs, what the fuck?" he blurted in surprise.
Leaning against the doorframe was his supervisor, eyes bleary and dark, deep sags underneath them. His white shirt was rumpled, buttons missing, the jack laying pathetically on his shoulders. His tie was half-untied, several threads frayed. The cuffs of his blue pants were ripped and dusty, his shoes and socks nowhere to be seen, his soles bruised and scraped from walking. His pants were buttoned, but unzipped. A fat, near-empty glass bottle was barely held in his hand as he breathed heavily.
"That fuckin'... bitch done left me." the tyrannosaur groaned, nearly falling to the floor.
Van yelped and caught him by the shoulders he could collapse. "Jesus Christ, you're drunk. How did you get here? Did you walk?" He slowly began to guide him inside.
"Yea, I did, heh heh, I walked the whole god damn way, Van. I know where all my employees live." He tried to take another swallow of liquor, and couldn't muster the energy to lift the bottle. "Okay well jusht you, I looked all over your files." His vision blurry, the room seemed to spin around him as the thick-armed sauropod set him down on the couch in the den.
Van blinked, looking him over to check for any scrapes or bruises other than his feet. "Mine? Why mine?" he said, narrowing his eyes a bit.
Tibalt let out a chuckle. "Not a single word... not a single one, Van." He drained the bottle, letting it fall on to the couch. "Not a shingle word about you being a faggot."
Van felt a hot tingle of anger run down his strong neck and down his back. He let it go. That word meant nothing to him.
"Yea, so? Why do I have to announce who I like to fuck?" Van rolled his eyes, tugging the ruffled suit jacket off of his inebriated boss. Nice suit; too bad it's close to ruined, he mused. Van was rather surprised to hear a thick Southern drawl to his boss' voice, likely something he kept in check most of the time.
Tibalt didn't seem to hear his words. "She just... goddamn left, green-lip. Said I was too borin' or... workaholic or some shit. Stupid fucking bitch. I gave her... so much..." Tibalt's head rolled as he looked around the den of his employee. Deep, soft sofa and chairs, a tall marble fireplace set in the wall with a brass clock upon the mantle. Above it, a painting of a massive, primal male dragon . "Not bad for a leaf-munching desk jockey, Vanny."
Van sighed, watching his boss glare drunkenly around the room, his tail digging into the sofa cushions. He cringed as he suddenly saw the carnivore's dirty paws on the carpet, and he quickly fetched and damp rag, holding the clawed foot and rubbing it carefully. Geez, how far did he walk...?
"Tibbs, seriously, why are you here? Sorry your wife left you, but how am I-?"
"I ain't got no friends, Van!" he shouted, looking up at the ceiling, then over at the chair. "I wanted to call... fuck, whats-his-name... that shpine-back, Spinus. I thought about goin' over to mah cousin's... that douche-bag." He left out a heavy sigh of exhaustion, curling his toes as Van carefully rubbed the grit from them to keep the carpet clean. "Ain't got no one to trust, Van... nobody but you."
Van blinked. He hardly expected his hard-voiced boss to admit such weakness. Is he opening up to me? Oh, hell, what do I do? He tried to keep listening, thoughts racing as the carnivore spilled his guts in rambling sentences.
"Can't trust a damned soul, but you, green-lip. I done pissed off so many people, clawin' my way high as I did. Everyone hatesh me... I know they do, Vanny, talkin' behind mah back n shhit. But yer nice. You're nice to everybody. Shields, that horn-head likesh you, the secretaries, the delivery guysh. I thought maybe... maybe you'd listen to me."
Van took a seat beside his broken, downtrodden boss. A six-figure annual salary, stock benefits, two houses, and a yacht all belonged to Tibalt, and despite them he sat blubbering on the couch of his employee, full of cheap liquor in an attempt to wash away his pain. Vincent made a fraction of the money, spent it carefully, walked when he could and had no idea how to swim, and yet he was far happier than the privileged carnivore. He managed a warm smile at the rust-red rex.
"Sure, Tibalt; I'll listen."
"Thanksh so much..." Tibalt sighed, and promptly shut his eyes, lying motionless on the soft couch.
Ah, damnit... Van rolled his eyes and arranged his unconscious boss into a comfortable position, tossing a blanket over him and putting the dirty jacket into the laundry room to be dealt with later. With less than quiet steps he returned to his bathroom, the water only luke-warm now and the forest-green dildo lying impatiently by the side of the tub.
Don't worry, Mr. Long, we'll get to it... just not now.
After a short, thorough bath, Vincent lifted himself from the tub, watching the glistening water cascade down his hard pectorals and drip from the end of his dangling cock. Humming the slow ambient music from the tiny pink stereo, he stepped down the hall and to his room to dry and dress. He was clad only in the flowery bathrobe, loosely tied at the waist. Lost in thought, he failed to close the door entirely, leaving it ajar as he stepped towards his wardrobe to consider clothing options. He didn't hear the slow footsteps until they reached the threshold as the door slowly opened.
"Ack! Uh, Tibbs, you feeling better?" He blurted in surprise.
"Nice and clean now, huh?" he said brusquely. Tibalt regarded his employee with clearer vision than before. The rex seemed a bit more sober, though he still stepped awkwardly. His shirt was un-tucked and unbuttoned, his paler chest and stomach somewhat revealed. "Take it off, Van."
Van shuddered, and he felt his face turning a crimson bloom of embarrassment at his boss's demand.
"What...?
"Take it off. I want to see you naked, Tallis." Tibalt stepped in further, looking the long-neck from head to toe. His own mind, even through the drunken haze, was still racing with conflicting thoughts. He truly wanted to see Van standing naked before him. Why was his heart pounding? The inexplicable, giddy thrill surfaced inside him, just as it had in the office. "You saw mine- now show me yours... please?" He wondered if he sounded weak and pathetic or harsh and demanding.
Slowly, Van smirked, blinking at the desire in his boss' voice. His cheeks still red, he obliged Tibalt's demand, and untied the robe belt, letting it fall open. He pulled open the robe at his chest, letting the back fall over his shoulders. He took his time, teasing the horny carnivore. He let gravity take the robe, the soft green material piling at his soft feet. He stood nude for his boss, smiling down on him like a Grecian sculpture. He didn't move as Tibalt stepped up to him, and gently laid clawed hands on his wide pectorals in fascination. The tyrannosaur stroked downward slowly, letting his fingers slip down the smooth abs, a lighter hue than the rest of Van's hide, and then back up the long-neck's sides, feeling the warm blood pump through the thick, knotted muscles. His fingers tingled.
"Your skin... it's so soft..." Tibalt murmured as his hands traveled downward and stroked the tight round buttocks behind the tall longneck. He gripped the thick base of the long tail, stroking it tenderly as he stood close to his naked employee.
Van smiled in amusement. "I use the right stuff to keep it nice and silky." Van gave no resistance, letting out soft hums of encouragement as he allowed himself to be stroked and explored. His boss' curious hands rubed his forearms and biceps, over his shoulders and up his long neck. He felt a shocking chill of pleasure, letting out a croon- he loved his neck to be stroked. He didn't bother to prevent the pole rising between his thighs, purring as it rubbed against Tibbs' pants. He didn't seem to notice.
Tibalt felt, hot, strange, confused. He wanted something, an inner desire igniting as he sniffed softly at the long-neck's chest. He rubbed over Van's body again, searching for what he'd felt in the office.
"Vincent... kiss me." his words didn't seem to sound like his own now, the tingling heat urging him on.
"You sure, Tibalt? A kiss?" Vincent said quietly, seductively, making Tibalt's heart jump.
"Y-yes, damn it, you kissed me in the office, s-so kiss me now." He demanded awkwardly.
Vincent pressed his lips to the blushing carnivore's without hesitation, his warm mouth closing over his supervisor's. He was relieved to taste a distinct lack of liquor, the tyrannosaur having washed his mouth out prior to entering his bedroom. Van applied a tender suction, giving his softest kiss. Tibalt shuddered as he hesitantly returned the kiss, trembling as his tall, Adonis-built employee nakedly kissed him, lips met in warmth and slowly blooming passion. He could do nothing to prevent the childish whimper that echoed from his throat. He felt as virgin as he had at his first kiss, so many years ago. Van tenderly snaked the tip of his tongue past the pointed teeth of his boss, licking at the smooth pink tongue inside, feeling it squirm in reaction inside the hot maw. He wrapped his thick arms around Tibalt's waist naturally, rubbing the carnivore's lower back as Tibbs held lightly to his arched neck.
The kiss parted as Tibalt began to run out of breath. His face was hot. His body was hot. There was water in his eyes. His groin ached with need, the heat coming from the virile male in front of him driving him crazy.
Van purred, holding the rex gently against him as he reached down to rub at the hard shaft in the blue pants. "Want to feel how soft my bed is, Tibalt? It'll help you relax."
Tibalt nodding, his hips thrusting softly as the warm hand stroked his arousal. He didn't resist as Van guided him onto the wide, tall bed, the herbivore pulling away the white unbuttoned shirt, tossing it to the floor. The pants left his long, rust-red legs, his clawed toes curling as he looked down at the dark wet spot his cocktip left on his boxers.
Van didn't hesitate to pull down the moistened boxer shorts off his boss, watching the tall shaft he'd already sucked and stroked throb as it stood erect. Tibalt, though not the sculpted figure Van was, wasn't bad looking in the least- a smooth stomach (with a slight paunch) and flat pectorals were usually hidden under a button down shirt; he was a bit toned due to his carnivorous heritage; claws small but cleanly curved; it was clear the rex was well-groomed. He took a little time to admire Tibalt's tool before suckling on the wet head. It was nice and fat, about seven inches, maybe a little more, the dark purple veins throbbing gently within, hidden under the supple skin on the shaft. It was definitely one of the nicest he'd ever seen. He pushed his mouth down around it, slurping at the salty pre-ejaculate off the head as Tibalt groaned without inhibition, still somewhat inebriated. Van smirked as he started to prepare his boss, digging into the drawer in his nightstand for the appropriately sized condom and a bottle of water-based lubricant. He stifled a giggle as Tibalt spread his legs wide, tail tip wiggling with anticipation.
The rex moaned again as Van kissed his stomach softly, one hand rolling the condom down his hot shaft. He blinked, trying to watch as Van slathered the wrapped cock in clear lube. He gave a fervent thrust upwards, hearing Van hum in response. God, that sound was pleasing- why did it make his heart thunder so?
He squirmed as he felt Van's heavy thighs straddle his waist, preparing to lower the smooth rear onto his waiting love-tower. He growled, and tried pushed as the hard pectorals, trying to force the fit herbivore to his back.
"No, no, you got to do everything last time while I laid back and watched; now you're going to lay back and watch, green-lip." He tried to sound vicious, but could not mask the giddy excitement flowing through his veins.
Van blinked and did as his supervisor commanded; he hadn't expected him to take the top. He lay on his back, pulling his thick legs apart and back, submitting to his partner's lustful demands. Despite his masculine frame and often dominant personality, he truly considered himself a 'bottom'. He thoroughly enjoyed the position, lying prone on his back with his legs pulled up high, tight warm rear stretched around a meaty pole. His own stiff tool reflected his glee, pumping slick wet pre-ejaculate onto his belly.
Tibalt gave a grunt, and gripped the tree-trunk legs, spying the dark tiny opening he desired. It took a measure of careful aim, but he fervently nudged his swollen, glistening cock head into the tight supple ring of flesh, stretching it around his hard tool as he slid inwards. He grunted again, feeling the hot, muscular warmth of the herbivore's buttocks clench around his throbbing cock. "Jesus, tight fucking little..."
Van let an unrestrained moan echo from his graceful throat as he felt the stiff rod enter his most intimate of places. He relaxed sigh a blissful sigh as his flesh was parted around the masculine organ, his body given to his newest lover for the rex's pleasure. He carefully encircled the male's waist with his thick legs, letting himself be taken as hard as Tibalt wanted.
Tibbs paused to steady himself, one hand on the long-necks soft ass, the other on Van's hip as he gave a sharp thrust inward, grunting as he felt the slick muscles close tightly around his cock, hugging gently. The condom stayed wrapped firmly around him as he pulled back, and in again, starting a steady piston motion as he looked down at the hard abs of the creature below him. His smooth testicles were tickled against Van's lengthy tail, sending shivers of icy pleasure up his spine. He marveled at the magnificent beast writhing under him, taking every inch of his maleness. His heart throbbed, cock surging again into the long-necks asshole.
Van moaned again, rubbing his face into his pillows. Lord, this predator was savage; Van's rear burned with pleasure, feeling his insides conform with the steel-hard rod inside him. He didn't bother to keep his pleasure to himself, letting every moan croon from his long throat.
"ungh," he groaned, gasping, "Oh, boss..."
Tibalt grinned. "I am the fuckin boss, boy." he grit his teeth, thrusting harder and quicker as his lust grew more savage, a deep primal heat overtaking him. The bedroom, the bed, all melted away, nothing now but the sweltering jungle around him, the bare earth on his knees as he plowed his rock hard cock into the submissive beast under him. The big, slow herbivore submitting to the carnivores will and lust; Just as it should be... he thought with a groan.
Van sighed with bliss, his heart thudding as his orgasm neared. He'd learned long ago what sort of lovers made him cum without touching his lengthy cock, and Tibalt was proving to be one of them. Such feral, lustful ferocity, the hard cock battering his tender insides. Before he could stop it, the long-neck felt himself pushed over the edge as his legs, glistening with sweat, stretched out behind the carnivore stiffly. His brain went numb as orgasmic waves washed over him, his cock jumping as a rope of slimey, salty seed splashed over his belly and chest, the next shot reaching his throat, coating his neck. His balls tensed as he released a bit more, thick cum leaking down his sides to the bed.
Tibalt buried his fat tool in again, and he growled, hot, oily climax overtaking him. With a ragged roar he gushed into Van's tight muscled rear, pumping his stiff cock in again and again as the slick passage gripped at it. His cock emptied out, filling the tight condom inside the hot herbivore ass. His mind blurred, the alcohol and post-climax exhaustion gripping him. As he settled into drunken, lustful sleep, he thought to himself that maybe he had found that sweet relief he'd been seeking.
Van purred. He smiled as the orgasmic senselessness left him, looking down at the hard hot carnivore lying on his chest. "Did you enjoy that-?" He blinked, and sighed, frowning as he realized his boss had passed out again.
And he so loved afterglow chatter.