Hot Night in the Sauna Club
Page 1
Various
Hot Night in the Sauna Club
SAGA
Hot Night in the Sauna Club
Original title:
Kalde føtter, Electrifying, Het natt i saunaklubben
Copyright © 2019, Hverdag A/S/Cupido og SAGA Egmont, Copenhagen
All rights reserved
ISBN: 9788726309805
1. E-book edition, 2019
Format: EPUB 2.0
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrievial system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor, be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Cold Feet
By Manu Seppänen
The first time I saw him, my body reacted before my brain. He hurried out of the boss’ office, quickly greeting anyone he happens to pass on his way. A firm handshake. An intense, blue-grey gaze. He looked everyone he met in the eyes in a way that was almost reminiscent of being subjected to military discipline. Even me. He looked me up and down. I was about a head taller and maybe twenty years younger. As I shook his hand, my cock was already beginning to stiffen. I felt how it was escaping my boxer shorts, the head slowly popping above my stomach and trouser lining and, out of desire and instinct, began to ruffle through my pubes. When I looked down at my crotch, I saw that I had an erection and knew that the other party to this interaction thought either that I had a banana in my pocket or was happy to see my reaction. I hoped that the new boss assumed the latter to be the case. He got me to stand to attention, both bodily and literally. I had to detach myself from his gaze before I mentioned my name. He gave me a brief smile, frowned, studied me, nodded, and continued.
I kept my eyes on him as he stormed onwards. The broad back. The boundary of hair in his neck - dark, short stubble in a straight line that higher up on the head transitions to hair that is greyer and slightly thinning. He swayed a little as he walked - like a medal-winning swimmer who had just come up out of the water. By this time, my cock had let go of all its inhibitions and found its way into a fold in my trousers. It was producing a clear silhouette in one trouser leg. You could clearly see the head through the fabric, so I quickly closed my jacket in an attempt to prevent my throbbing tool from becoming an all too public secret. I just needed to go to the bathroom before the morning meeting. Firmly gripping the shaft of my rod with one hand and massaging the head in a twisting motion with the other, I pumped out a thick cascade of cum right up to the ceiling - all in his name.
Lars came from another company, and intended to put his stamp on us as quickly as possible. In an industry such as ours, trading is important and, consequently, things are very results-ori ented. It is no lie to say that, at that time, I was getting more than a little bit tired of all these top bosses leaving as quickly as they arrived. But things seemed different with this guy. He would probably be sticking around a bit longer. Or so I hoped.
Throughout the morning meeting, I sat in a relaxed position, which allowed my cock to be a little freer under the table. Lars made me horny in an almost otherworldly way. On several occasions, I found my gaze searching out his, peering below his chest and tie and up again. When he stood up and outlined his policies and intentions for the company, both my eyes and my attention were firmly fixed on his crotch. It was as if I was trying to set the fabric enclosing his cock and balls on fire. It was as if I was sending signals to his body. I have always been attracted to older, mature, middle-aged men. Getting horny in the middle of late, drawn-out, tough negotiations. Some men are incredibly sexy. They have a singular masculine power and strength. But Lars was probably one of the most provocative I’d seen. He was exceptionally virile and very charismatic. Like a compact bull, or a small, muscular terrier. He wasn’t particularly tall, rather powerful and robust. Greying at the temples and a regular, pleasing face. He also looked like he was quite uncomfortable wearing his grey suit. It was youthful, modern, and fitted him well, but it seemed as though it was clamped tightly to his body. It locked in his broad shoulders, squeezed the air out of his powerful neck, and disguised his well-developed legs. It wasn’t that the suit was too small, it was more a feeling that Lars’ body was crying out for more room, more space to be comfortable.
It took me a long, embarrassing moment to realise that Lars and our deputy director said my name. I smiled, stood up, and felt the entire length of my cock scrape against the edge of the table. But I composed myself as best I could, ignoring the thick, semi-hard rod that was dangling between my legs, and talked instead about my department, about how things were going, and what our competitors were planning. Fortunately, I managed to employ my natural bravado and gift of the gab, and got some approving nods from those in attendance. And from Lars.
A while later, there was a convergence of two completely separate events, something that happens in life every now and again. One of our most fearsome and best competitors contacted me at home. Privately, discreetly. They had heard a lot of good things about me and wanted to know if I’d be interested in heading up one of their most exciting departments. This would mean a promotion, a higher salary, and more responsibility, but, above all, more prestige. They wanted to buy me and were uncommonly generous with the package they were offering. I promised to think about it.
The following day at work, at the end of the meeting, Lars revealed he was going to get married. Everyone cheered and congratulated him. It would be his first marriage. He’d never had the time before, he joked, and that 55 was a suitable age to be grown up. Once he had left, the deputy direct gathered the men in the copy room and said that we should organise a surprise stag party. Lars is a joker and a man who appreciates spontaneity on the part of his colleagues. In addition, a great stag party would help bring the group together, he said. He proposed that Karl - a 35-year-old family man - and I should come up with something really special. We had carte blanche, free access to the expense account, and a whole afternoon, evening, and night at our disposal.
Karl was always talking about strippers, sex, and breasts, and it was him who suggested that we engage the services of a stripper who looked like a famous American model. I said that perhaps we should take things a little further.
Instead of your normal run of the mill stripper, we could find a dominatrix, a woman who loved to exercise power over men. The thought intrigued Karl, and he promised to find a really determined lady who would certainly be able to put Lars in his place. We embroidered the idea, finally agreeing that we should lure Lars to a large hotel on a Friday and, instead of a business breakfast, he would be called to a room, overpowered, blindfolded, and his underwear removed. He would then be made to wait for the arrival of the aforementioned Miss Domina who would command him to do things, eventually removing his blindfold and performing a striptease.
The idea was that Lars would believe he was alone in the room with her, whilst the rest of us would be absolutely silent and study events from a distance. Karl laughed and said that most powerful men liked being tied up, and that our boss would probably be so turned on by such a woman that he would like to be fucked whilst we all watched. “Brilliant, an awesome idea,” cackled the deputy director.
“Yes, absolutely,” I said.
All went according to plan. Lars was unknowingly brought up to the room by Karl and the deputy director, was overpowered, and soon aware that the stag party had officially begun. Down in the hotel bar, Karl told us that he had immediately gone along with it, accepted the blindfold and undressed without complaint, almost also taking off his underwear before Karl piped up and said that he shouldn’t be
so eager and to keep them on. Lars just laughed, wondered what the hell we were doing, asked for a stiff whisky and then calmly laid himself on his stomach on the big bed. Laughing and making flippant remarks, Karl and the deputy director tied his hands to the headboard posts and his legs to the foot of the bed using nylon stockings. They then left him there.
What they didn’t know was that I had other plans. We agreed that he would be left there for two hours to stew over our next move, whilst we calmly got ourselves drunk in the bar in order to get in the right mood. The beer soon began to flow, and I don’t think that anyone in the large room saw me sneak out.
Up in the lift. Across the hallway toward his room. I inserted the card key in the door and went in. I saw Lars’ naked shoulders and neck tense as he heard me enter. He turned a little, trying to find out what was going to happen. But he remained equally quiet as I did. Didn’t say a word.
I was dizzy from excitement. I was going to resign on Monday, leave the office the same day, and go on holiday a long way from home before starting my new job.
I locked the door and went straight over to the TV. I changed the channel to MTV and turned up the volume. I then took a beer from the minibar, sat down in an armchair and studied my top boss, the sexiest man in the universe, glorious, firmly tied up, and totally unaware of what I wanted to do. Unaware of all the plans I had for him.
His ass was pert and round, and just as compact as the rest of his body. Two balls enclosed in small, thin, tightly-fitting, chalk white briefs. I could clearly see his spine, rising like a furrow out of the briefs and up his back between the muscular shoulder blades. He was in excellent shape. I stared at the appetising, spread thighs that ran down from the edge of his briefs, and continued to look along his powerful legs all the way to his feet. Just between his legs, I could clearly see the gap between his buttocks, and on the duvet lay a clearly defined, heavy ball sack. The ballsack of a large, powerful, middle-aged stallion.
I was so turned on that the beer quivered in my hand. My breathing was shallow. My cock ached. I put the bottle down, unzipped my flies and pulled out my stiff rod. I kept my clothes on, not wanting to risk an all too eager colleague showing up at an inopportune moment. I could now hide my cock should anyone come knocking on the locked door. The music was so loud that he didn’t hear me go to the foot of the bed, where I kneeled down by his incarcerated feet and stuck out my tongue. He mustn’t know who it was. He absolutely not figure out that I’m a man, especially a man he knew and worked with. I just wanted to let my tongue touch his foot, not his chin or cheek, which would, given my beard and other facial hair, definitely reveal me as a man.
The tip of my tongue touched the sole of his foot, causing it to twitch and tense. It then relaxed. He mumbled something, but went silent as I began to trace circles with my tongue over the instep and tasted his body. He gasped quite clearly. I licked, running my tongue up and down his foot in long, rhythmical movements. I carefully switched to the other foot and repeated the procedure. He alternated between moaning with pleasure and trembling with excitement. I got up and continued to explore his bound leg with my tongue, up to the back of the knee. My cock had now swelled to bursting, it was dripping. I needed all my willpower to stop me touching it, I was extremely aroused and ready to blow my load just by looking at the man who was lying so deliciously in front of me.
My tongue slid up further over his thigh. The strong and burlap-like growth of hair along the inside of the thigh tasted good and smelled clean. He moaned louder and whimpered quietly. I felt him press his thigh against my face, against my hungry tongue and my lips. I couldn’t help but suck. The fear I had of the game being up if my upper lip or chin touched his skin had completely disappeared. I saw red, I saw flesh, fell full force into my desire and the thought of giving him pleasure. His muscular thigh returned to my cheek, feeling its way, before it sank back down onto the bed and he emitted a hoarse moan. My tongue wandered further up, the odours becoming increasingly strong. He smelled of sweat, masculinity, and salt, and I coaxed and whipped lightning fast with my tongue, sticking it under the elastic of his briefs, nibbling his buttocks and thighs, feeling him squirm under me and start to move his hips from pleasure.
I got off my knees. Crazy with desire. With both hands, I resolutely grabbed the waistband of his briefs. I gazed at the perfect ass, the line between the bronzed back and the milk white buttocks, before I started and made him realise that he was to raise his ass so that I could pull the briefs down little by little to expose his naked bottom. He was whimpering loudly now, like an animal. I licked the crack, bit and nibbled his buttocks, stuck my face in between them, my nose, went completely wild. At some point in my state of lost senses, I realised that he must know that I was a man. Perhaps he didn’t give a damn and was just enjoying it. His ass bounced up and down, his back tightened, and his hands gripped the bedposts. I pulled his trousers right down, ripped the elastic a little in pieces so that they could go over his thighs, exposing the ballsack that I really wanted to see and taste.
It was lying there like an over-ripe piece of fruit. Round and warm and completely shaven. I licked. I felt my forehead touch his ass, my hair pressed against his skin, and when the tip of my tongue touched his balls, he gave in, swore loudly, lifted a willing ass and swayed his back so that my tongue could get better access.
Lars, my smart, tough boss, was offering up his crotch, swaying rhythmically with his hips and muffling his moans in a pillow. He was tempting me. He was working me into a frenzy like a really skilled prostitute. The sweat streamed down his back, which I was stroking with my hand. I moved to knead his buttocks hard, pinching them and smacking them every so often with the flat of my hand. Harder and harder. I had now coaxed the entire ballsack into my mouth. I sucked, slurped, and felt the taste and scent, which aroused me beyond belief.
He mumbled. Moaned. He swayed his back even more, stretched upwards so that the straps tied around his hands and legs became taut. I quickly grabbed hold of the rod between his legs, that thick, circumcised cock, and brutally bent it backwards. He whimpered, and I felt the hard, blood-filled cock throb before I moved it towards my lips and began licking the soaking wet head, sucked it hard, bit by bit devouring the gorgeous, potent rod, letting it press deeper and deeper in.
He then tensed up, as if he was experiencing a bout of cramp. My hand took hold of his huge testicles, massaging them. My other hand smacked his ass, and his wet cock was in my mouth. He shrieked, writhed and struggled. Finally, he shot a cascade of sperm, one jet after the other hitting my lips, cheeks and chin. He shouted and shot a final, smaller load, at which point he sank gasping on the bed. Without a word, I took hold of his trousers, smacked his ass so that he would lift it in the air, and pulled them off. I grabbed his massive, empty ballsack one last time, before I got up, wiped my face, and left the room.
“So, you’re leaving us,” he just said when I announced on Monday that I had been headhunted by a competitor. I nodded. There was silence in his office. I briefly explained that there was more scope for me to grow and develop there than here. My salary was also going to be significantly better. He frowned. Stood up. Said that he understood. He would have done the same in my situation. I was young and had my whole future in front of me. You had to look after number one, and not look a gift horse in the mouth. He sat on the edge of the desk, crossed his legs, and straightened his tie. “One month in the deep freeze. What are you going to do before starting at your new place?” he asked.
“First, I’m going to take a holiday,” I said, “somewhere warm for a couple of weeks.” He laughed and shook his head. “And then? When you get back?”
“Don’t know,” I said. “Another party, perhaps.”
He got up, walked round the desk and sat down. He leaned back in the chair, put his hand behind his neck and smiled. “We’ll miss you,” he said.
“In my brief time here, you have shown yourself to be a particularly active employee. Let me go on record as sayin
g that I’m more than satisfied with your performance.”
“Thank you,” I answered, somewhat surprised. “And good luck with the wedding,” I stammered.
“Oh, that,” he said. “You know how things can go, how they are sometimes. We talked about things, she seemed doubtful, backed out, packed her suitcases, and moved to England. Perhaps it was a good thing that I got cold fee,” he said and winked at me.
I blushed. His smile broadened, and with both hands on his sex, he started to lift and rearrange the huge bulge in his crotch, fondling himself in front of me without any sign of embarrassment. He fingered the semi-hard rod through his grey trousers of his suit. He licked his lips.
“How cold?” I asked and swallowed. “My feet?”
“Do you have time to explore the issue before you leave?”
Electrifying
By Alexander, Kolding
I had the day off. I took the opportunity to completely shave myself. I shaved my head until I was as bald as an egg - I loved being bald. Hairless. Waxed my buttocks and ballsack. Trimmed my pubes to a little square by the root of my cock. Took a bath. A really long bath. Steaming hot. I took care of myself. I was going to go to the mall and do some power shopping - and, of course, look for men.