A reminder of who’s the boss

Babes

I was married in September 1996 and these true events took place in March of the same year. I’ve had to change some names for obvious reasons. I was working for a family run engineering distributor that had four branches in the south of England. All the branches were managed by a member of the same Richmond family. The branch I worked at, in Maidenhead, was run by the youngest son, Michael. I was 26 years old at the time and Michael would have only been in his thirties. His father had an office at our branch, and any family board meetings would always take place here. Whereas the rest of the Richmond family seemed very formal and stuffy, I always found Michael to be down to earth and good fun. He had a shock of blonde hair, and although he was very well spoken, you could enjoy a laugh with him. My own over familiarity with Michael did sometimes make me forget he was the boss, and he did occasionally have to tell me to speak to him with a bit more respect, particularly in front of others. I enjoyed working for Michael, and although he had a reputation for being difficult and moody, it was not something I had experienced. During the weeks leading up to this particular event, the branch had entertained the family more frequently than usual and there seemed to be an air of bad news around the place. Everyone within the company knew we weren’t doing very well and the rumour mill had begun to speculate on which branch might be closed down. I was getting married in less than six month’s time, so I was particularly concerned. Unfortunately, it soon transpired that the rumours were mostly true. It was announced that there was to be a series of redundancies and although it would affect all branches, our branch employed an old guy called Patrick, who had decided to take voluntary redundancy. This seemed to keep the wolves away for the time being. I had been with Richmond’s for nearly ten years and knew the business inside out. I was therefore flattered, but not surprised, when Michael asked me if I would accompany him to the branch in Essex, to train up some of the staff in stock control. Without boring you with the details, our branch had the lowest stock value and highest stock rotation, so I was seen as the Champion for the company in this area. My wife to be wasn’t overly happy with me being away from home once a week for the next month, but we were both so relieved that I had kept my job, we weren’t going to kick up a fuss. Michael and I stayed in a Bed & Breakfast, not far from the Essex branch and although it wasn’t at all grand, it had a small bar area downstairs Avrupa yakası escort bayan and we spent the evening drinking and putting the world to rights. Michael was very honest about his own capabilities, and as we both got slowly drunk he opened up about feeling like he was a disappointment to his Father. The company had been in the family for three generations and this was the first time in over fifty years, the business had been in financial difficulty. “I think you’re a good boss, Michael,” I told him reassuringly. “Because I’m soft with you, you mean?” Michael asked. “I don’t mean that at all. I think we make a good team,” I replied. “You wouldn’t have said that if I’d have made you redundant!” Michael said. “But the business wouldn’t survive without me,” I joked. “My Father thought it would,” Michael replied, in a serious tone. Michael went on to tell me how his Father thought I was a joker, a bad influence on the business and on Michael. If Patrick hadn’t had put himself forward for voluntary redundancy, I was the one who would have been chosen. I was completely dumbstruck. I hardly slept that night, and it quickly dawned on me that if the business didn’t improve and more redundancies were needed, my head would clearly be on the chopping block. I decided on a plan of action that included me working harder, and also adopting a more serious and business like attitude at work. I also needed to remain close to Michael, who wouldn’t necessarily defy his Father’s orders, but did seem to stick up for me. The following week, we sat there again, in the same bar. “You alright Leighton?” Michael asked. “You haven’t seemed yourself this week,” “I’m fine. After what you said last week about your Father’s opinion of me, I thought I had best get my head down and be less of a clown,” I replied. Michael put his hand on my leg. “You’re not a clown, you don’t need to change at all,” Michael replied. We shared a look, that at the time, I thought was true friendship. With Michael opening up about his family to me and the time we were spending together, I remember feeling incredibly lucky to have a boss who saw something in me that I often didn’t see in myself. I relaxed more after this second evening and although I was still trying to impress Mr Richmond, Senior, I began to look forward more and more to my Wednesday evenings with Michael. This third evening was more like old times, and both me and Michael took the piss out of each other and rather than a boss and his subordinate, it was just two Escort Ataköy mates getting drunk. I was a little disappointed when my fourth and final evening away with Michael arrived. The redundancies had all been made by then and although the general mood of the company hadn’t improved, my own outlook was feeling far more positive. However, as Michael drove us into Essex on this particular morning, he seemed more stressed than I had ever seen him. “You alright Mike?” I asked. “It’s Michael, not Mike,” He snapped. “I’m not bad, I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” he replied. I didn’t pursue the conversation at this point, mainly because I didn’t want to. I began to wonder whether I’d been used to train up the staff, before the company got rid of me. The final day in Essex was less becoming less enjoyable than I had hoped. When we arrived at the Bed and Breakfast in the evening, we headed to the bar. We usually had one drink in the bar, before going back to our rooms to get changed. With the mood being what it was and neither of us feeling particularly talkative, we sat there and consumed more than a few before it was even 7 o’clock. “I’m going to go back and get showered and changed,” I finally said. “I’m probably not going to join you this evening,” Michael replied. “I’ve got quite a lot of work to do,” “Whatever!” I snapped. Walking back to my room. As I lay on my bed, I was now positive I was going to be made redundant. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had been used for my knowledge, until Michael could get rid of me. The thoughts spinning around my head were making me more and more pissed off. I decided that I needed to vent my feelings and get clarification on what was going to happen to me. I left my room and walked down the short corridor to Michael’s room. I knocked on the door but got no answer. Knocking again, I still got no answer. This made me even more annoyed, and I went back downstairs to the bar to see if he was still there. He wasn’t! I went back upstairs, now more frustrated than ever and thumped hard on his door. Finally, Michael answered, standing there in a white robe. “What’s going on?” he asked in drunken confusion. Without thinking clearly, I barged past him and began ranting. “Slow down,” Michael said. “I don’t understand a word you’re saying!” “You’re going to get rid of me aren’t you?” I replied. “You’re going to sack me?” Michael looked at me and then looked down at the floor. “I may need to make someone else redundant at Maidenhead. That’s true,” he answered. “And your Dad wants Şirinevler escort it to be me! Just stand up to him!” I shouted. “It’s my decision!” Michael shouted back. “You want to get rid of me?” I replied, confused. Michael walked towards me and put his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want to. I just think it would be easier,” he replied. “Easier? For who?” I asked. I had bought my own hand up to remove Michael’s arm from my shoulder, but as I looked at him, he looked so sad. I found my own hand resting on his arm, almost comforting him. “I think we’re too close, and I don’t find it easy to manage you,” Michael replied. “I don’t understand,” I said. I looked at Michael. Our arms were still resting on each other. I looked down at Michael in his robe. In his panic to answer the banging on the door, he had clearly thrown the robe on. For the first time since entering his room, I saw that his robe didn’t quite meet and as I looked down, I could see his thigh and the outline of his cock against the thin material. As I looked at it, his cock twitched. I looked back up at Michael, who could see me staring. Our eyes met, and without needing to say anything else, I finally understood what he was talking about. I’ve thought about this particular moment a lot. I’ve often wondered whether it was self-preservation and whether I was thinking of a way to keep my job or whether I was just lost in the moment. I looked back down at the floor and brought my other hand up between Michael’s legs, and through the thin toweling material of his robe, I began to stroke his cock. Michael’s cock immediately hardened in my hand, and with neither of us saying anything, I continued to stroke him. We were both looking down at my hand working on his manhood. I bought my other hand down from Michael’s arm and began undoing the strap on his robe. As it fell open, I saw Michael’s cock for the first time. He had very light blonde pubic hair, which was barely noticeable against his skin. I pulled back his foreskin fully over the head of his cock and Michael groaned loudly. I continued to stroke his cock, slowly but firmly, and became fully aware of my own erection forming in my trousers. Michael rubbed the mound in my trousers, as we both continued to look down. He undid my flies, releasing my cock, and we began to masturbate each other. It would be reasonable to say that my mood was calmer by this time, and I knew, regardless of what the future held for me, I was going to enjoy this moment as much as I could. It felt as though we stood there for hours masturbating each other’s cocks, but in reality it was probably no more than ten minutes. Up until then, I would have described these events as incredibly sensual and almost romantic. What I was soon to realize and would realize many times after this evening, was that Michael had other ideas. “You’re making me so fucking hard,” Michael exclaimed.

Bir yanıt yazın

E-posta adresiniz yayınlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir