It was a Friday lunchtime, a well-deserved lunch break. The active guy, a strapping 38-year-old, tattooed, bald executive in a local club, had posted his ad in no uncertain terms: "Looking for a discreet sucker for a quick blowjob at home between noon and two. I'll be waiting for you sitting down, ready to get my dick out." The match was immediate. The message arrived: "I'll be there in 10 minutes. Call me Cocksucker." The active man smiled, turned off his computer, pulled down the blinds in his home office - he was working from home that day. He pulled on a pair of baggy shorts, nothing underneath, and sat in his office chair, legs slightly apart, the bulge already visible beneath the light fabric. He waited, cock half hard at the thought. The doorbell rang right on time. He'd left the door unlocked. It opened, and Cocksucker entered without a word: a discreet guy in his thirties, eyes downcast but excited. He closed behind him, walked straight to the desk and, without hesitation, dropped to his knees between the legs of the active man, who spread his thighs a little wider and lifted his buttocks slightly to slide his shorts down to mid-thigh. His cock sprang out, already stiff and thick, the glans swollen and glistening with a clear drop. He rested his forearms on the armrests of the chair, relaxed, ready to get pumped.
Now that's what you call a well-optimized lunch break!
