When I graduated in 2021, I was one of the luckier ones in my year when it came to finding a job.
Because I had skipped many campus recruitment sessions to prepare for the graduate entrance exam, I didn’t even have a decent resume. So when I failed the exam and decided to look for work, I suddenly felt completely lost, unsure where to begin. But somehow, through sheer luck, a company that hadn’t planned to hire anyone this year suddenly lost a group of key staff when one of their leaders took a bunch of loyal subordinates to start a new venture. The weakened company came to our school to recruit, announcing they needed twenty people.
Our department sent a group for interviews, but in the end, only I got hired.
This shocked me. Normally my grades and performance were average, and I had no connections with the leadership or professors. Many stronger candidates with multiple offers went in casually, yet they were all eliminated.
The day the secretary called me to sign the contract was only three days after I finished my resume. It was the first—and only—resume I had submitted.
The interview left a deep impression on me.
It was a group interview, and I barely spoke. I figured the interviewer must have seen my honest face and assumed I would be a diligent, hardworking employee. I couldn’t think of any other reason they would hire me. I was still very excited to start work because during the interview I had spotted an attractive older employee and wondered if we might end up in the same department.
At the beginning of the group interview, a girl from the International Trade major was efficiently assigning tasks to our small group. My job was to take meeting notes, so I buried myself in recording what everyone else was responsible for.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man walk in through the front door. He had short hair, a solid build, and was wearing a well-fitted gray suit that looked expensive, with a white dress shirt underneath.
He walked over to the interviewer and spoke to him quietly. To stay at the same height, he crouched down; his suit pants stretched tightly, revealing the clear outline of his leg muscles. I have zero resistance to men with thick thighs, and heat immediately flooded my lower abdomen. I almost forgot to keep taking notes. Then I lowered my gaze and noticed he was wearing black casual leather shoes. His feet were fairly large, and a bit of black sock showed between the hem of his pants and the shoes.
I wondered if lifting his pant leg would reveal black cotton socks clinging tightly to a hairy, muscular calf. I could clearly feel myself getting hard. When my eyes returned to his face, I realized he was looking straight at me! I quickly lowered my head, thinking I was finished. If he was a leader, seeing me so distracted surely meant I wouldn’t get the job.
Yet his appearance stayed etched in my mind: the full forehead beneath short hair, deep wrinkles when he frowned, thick eyebrows, a resolute expression with a hint of mischief, probably in his early thirties. Most importantly, beneath the white shirt, two prominent pectoral muscles looked ready to burst the buttons!
The night after the interview, convinced I had no chance, I still jerked off twice thinking of him—imagining him pressing down on me while I unbuttoned his shirt, feeling his smooth thighs in suit pants, then reaching for the most crucial spot…
After graduation, farewell drinks, and the breakup meal.
I rented a place near campus. Although it was a bit far from the company (they were on the east side of the river, campus on the west), the familiar surroundings made eating and shopping convenient, and I could still meet classmates who stayed for grad school. So the commute didn’t bother me much.
The day before my first day of work I felt very nervous—it was a major shift from student to office worker.
After completing the onboarding paperwork and getting my keys from HR, I went to my department as instructed.
Full of anticipation at the thought of seeing that muscular suited man, I headed to our department office, only to be disappointed. I grabbed the first girl I saw at the door and introduced myself as the new hire, Xue Liran. She seemed to have been waiting for me and excitedly said, “Little Xue, right? Manager Wang is waiting for you.”
She introduced herself as Sister Liu and happily led me to the office. The person I met was not the muscular man from the interview, but a thin, middle-aged man.
I was devastated. All the passionate fantasies I had built in my mind about a muscular boss had turned to dust!
Manager Wang politely asked me to sit, chatted briefly about my major, then gave a quick overview of my job responsibilities.
“If you have any questions, just ask Sister Liu. For the next couple of days, just walk around and get familiar with the place. From now on we’re all one big family!” Seeing how warm Manager Wang was, my disappointment faded.
I felt ashamed that I had lost enthusiasm for work on my very first day because of a man. Forget it—I should just focus on the job. That man was probably still somewhere in the company; I would meet him eventually and find a way to get close. Good things come to those who wait. Thinking this way cheered me up. Just as I was about to follow Sister Liu on a tour, Manager Wang called out, “By the way, Little Xue, can you swim?”
“Yeah, but I’m average,” I replied.
“No problem, as long as you can swim. Next month the company is holding an employee swimming competition. Each department needs at least two men and two women. Besides Little Zhang, all the guys in our department are complete landlubbers. If you don’t join, we’ll have to forfeit!”
“Okay, I’ll sign up, but don’t expect me to win anything. Haha.”
“Great, I’ll put your name down.”
Then I followed Sister Liu out.
After closing the general manager’s office door, I noticed another office next door with a sign that read “Deputy General Manager’s Office.” I asked Sister Liu, “We have a deputy general manager in our department too?” She replied, “Yes, Manager Zhang—the Little Zhang Manager Wang mentioned. You two are the only men in the department who can swim. Manager Zhang is at the factory today and won’t be back until tomorrow. By the way, between us, Manager Zhang personally picked you. He specifically requested you from HR.”
“Really? But I’ve never even met this Manager Zhang.”
“I don’t know. Maybe something on your resume caught his eye.”
I wondered who this unseen Manager Zhang could be. Could he be the muscular man from the interview? My heart started pounding. But I quickly dismissed the thought.
The muscular guy looked only in his early thirties—how could a deputy general manager be that young? Besides, that day he had caught me staring lustfully at his thighs and crotch. It was already lucky he hadn’t rejected me; why would he personally request me? It must have been the legendary Manager Zhang who liked my resume.
That resume had nothing special on it. Did he just assume someone as ordinary as me would be an obedient subordinate? I snorted. Sister Liu turned and asked what I was laughing at. I said it was nothing—I just hadn’t expected the bosses to be so easygoing. Sister Liu said, “Manager Wang is very nice, but when he gets serious about work he can be intimidating. You’ll see.” We spent the rest of the day touring the company and greeting people from other departments. Although I hadn’t done much, I was surprisingly tired.
Back home I took a shower and went to bed, my mind repeating: Manager Zhang… muscular guy… Manager Zhang… muscular guy… could they be the same person? Then I drifted into a deep sleep.
Sister Liu thought my first-day outfit was too casual, so that evening I dug out the suit and dress shirt I had bought for job hunting and laid them by the bed.
Muscular men in suits were my type, but I had always disliked wearing suits myself. When my mom made me buy one I grumbled the whole time, feeling that putting on a suit meant I was truly an adult. My frame is small, and even though I have some muscle, I worried the suit wouldn’t look good on me. I’d seen skinny guys wearing suits that hung loosely and looked terrible!
Fortunately, the suit actually looked pretty good on me.
After trying several, my mom helped me choose two shirts—one white, one light blue—a black suit, and two patterned ties. I bought casual leather shoes; that was already my limit. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in just a pair of white briefs, I started putting on the dress shirt. Thinking of those men in the videos whose shirts and suits were stretched tight over their bodies, and their hungry expressions, my hand unconsciously went to my nipples and gently played with them.
My breathing quickened.
It had been a long time since I broke up with my boyfriend a year ago. I really missed physical intimacy. I longed for someone to kiss behind my ear, to gently bite my nipples—that feeling of hot skin pressed together. The muscular man’s face floated into my mind again—the light stubble along his jaw and temples. I wanted so badly to kiss his lips, to tangle my tongue with his.
I wondered if his thing was big. Even if it wasn’t, that body would be more than enough. His beard looked vigorous; he probably had a lot of body hair too. I wanted to have wild sex with him, to have him take me from behind or face-to-face while watching his dazed expression…
Looking at my own body in the mirror—though a bit chubby, classmates jokingly called me “little fatty”—my slightly rounded, firm chest was still presentable. I had a lot of body hair, running from my chest down to my groin; my belly was furry too. No abs, but no beer belly either. Pinching my nipples and imagining they were the muscular man’s hands, the thing inside my white briefs was already rock hard, the fabric turning slightly transparent from precum.
I rubbed my stiff cock with my other hand, freed it from the briefs, and stroked it vigorously. The slick fluid made my hand glide smoothly, and soon I came all over the mirror. Panting, I waited for my heartbeat to calm, glanced at the clock—shit, I was going to be late! Without cleaning up, I changed into fresh underwear, threw on the suit, and rushed out the door.
I clocked in right on time. Sister Liu told me Manager Zhang wanted to see me in his office after I arrived.
A little nervous, I asked her if Manager Zhang was easy to deal with. She laughed and teased, “You’ve already handled the general manager, and now you’re scared of the deputy? Don’t worry, Manager Zhang is pretty humorous. Just relax.” So I went to his office.
I knocked and entered. Sitting behind the computer was the muscular man! My eyes widened with joy, and I immediately lowered my head.
“Hello, Manager Zhang.”
“Haha, no need to be so formal. Your name is Xue Liran?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“A very scholarly name. Are your parents teachers?”
I said no, they were ordinary state-owned enterprise employees. He nodded. “I really like your name. It suits you.” Remembering how my friends always said I looked like a bookworm but was actually a total perv when talking about men, I suddenly laughed. Manager Zhang didn’t mind and asked me about school and daily habits—similar questions to what Manager Wang had asked the day before. Then he said, “Sister Liu showed you around yesterday, right? You can start taking on real work today. Manager Wang is the head of the department, but I’m the one who assigns specific tasks. From now on you’ll mainly report to me.”
In my head I thought, I wish you’d assign me… assign me to your bed… He tapped my head with a pen. “What are you thinking about? Smiling like that?” I quickly said it was nothing, and he began explaining my job duties.
After he tapped my head, I suddenly felt the distance between us shrink. While explaining the work, his brows were slightly furrowed—clearly he took his job seriously. As I listened and responded, I used my talent for zoning out to study his body. Today he wore a light-blue dress shirt with white collar and cuffs, giving it a bit more design flair. His chest muscles still strained the fabric exactly as I remembered, and even sexier, he had two shoulder straps clipped to his pants and running over his shoulders, stretched tight across the shirt, showing how thick his torso really was. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing muscular forearms covered in dark fuzz.
Because he was sitting, I couldn’t check whether there was any bulge below.
But I did catch a glimpse of his socks—today he was wearing black silk socks! I immediately pictured him naked except for those black silk socks and almost got a nosebleed.
Suddenly I noticed he had stopped talking.
He had pretty much finished the briefing.
I nodded quickly and said I understood. He smiled and patted my shoulder. “Work hard. I think you’re someone I can trust.” I thanked him and left.
Only then did I realize my forehead was covered in sweat—whether from the heat, nerves, or my earlier lust speeding up my blood flow… I scolded myself internally: Xue Liran, you’re way too horny. You already jerked off this morning—can’t you behave for one day? Is your mind completely empty except for men?
Then I composed myself and started my workday.
After work I went home in a good mood.
Not just because the day had been productive, but because in less than a day I had gathered all the information about the muscular man. With my friendly face, I’ve always found it easy to build rapport with new people. After two days at work, I’d already blended in with the department, and people were starting to invite me to after-work gatherings. So I casually learned quite a bit about the muscular guy.
Turns out he graduated from our school too. He’s from Heilongjiang, around thirty-two or thirty-three. He studied accounting and was originally in the finance department. Because of his outstanding performance, he was transferred to sales to “get experience,” with the intention of moving him up to upper management later. After joining sales, he was taken under Manager Wang’s wing and became one of his trusted aides. Because he spent a lot of time at the factory, the production department tried to poach him several times, but he stayed loyal, which only increased Manager Wang’s trust. In less than two years he was promoted to deputy general manager.
That was the work side—I didn’t care much about it.
What I cared about was his personal life—whether he was married… So when another colleague told me he had a three-year-old daughter, my heart sank.
But if he was already married with a cute daughter, why were there no family photos in his office?
I fell into thought.
Right.
His name was Zhang Hao.
Simple, but for some reason I really liked it. It had that bold northeastern vibe—very masculine yet warm. Zhang Hao, Zhang Hao, Zhang Hao… why did you choose me, pick me as your subordinate? Today his eyes hadn’t revealed anything special—just polite warmth. I could tell he was trying to ease my nerves and close the distance, but he did it perfectly, staying strictly within the bounds of boss and subordinate. Maybe that really was it—he had simply noticed my honest appearance and simple background.
Still, I couldn’t help holding on to some hope. Maybe Zhang Hao really was different, and maybe we would have a different kind of relationship.
Soon I settled into the rhythm of work.
My main job was to help Zhang Hao coordinate between the factory and the sales department, and to use my foreign-language skills to prepare the sales team for expanding into overseas markets. So I often had to run between the factory and the office, and sometimes go on business trips.
It was tiring, but I was still happy because Zhang Hao clearly saw me as someone worth training. He personally taught me everything, so we spent a lot more time together. Besides our usual work interactions, when we finished late at the factory he would often treat me to dinner and then drive me home.
At work he was meticulous, always wearing a serious expression. Sometimes when I saw sweat beading in his short hair I felt an urge to wipe it away for him.
During work hours I never dared joke with him, but after work we relaxed a lot. We talked about everything—our hometowns, favorite foods, university life… He graduated from the same university as me, so he was technically my senior, which made everything feel more familiar and gave me plenty of excuses to call him “senior.”
Now I understood why he had chosen me for the company.
He said he had urgently needed an assistant with strong language skills to share his workload, so he had looked at all the foreign-language graduates who came for interviews. The moment he saw me he felt comfortable, thought I looked obedient and smart, and figured I would be easy to train—so he asked the interviewer to keep me.
Knowing he had a good first impression of me made me feel sweet inside, like there was still a chance for something more.
He rarely mentioned his wife, but often talked about his daughter. Her name was Yanran, nickname Ranran. I said that was the same as mine. He gave me a mischievous smile and said, “That’s why I like your name so much.” As we grew more familiar, our conversations became more casual. I asked him whether the meat on his body was fat or muscle. He said he had always worked out, so most of it was muscle, but he had put on a little weight in recent years, so now it was half muscle, half fat—mostly muscle though.
“You can touch and see,” he said, puffing out his chest.
Of course I wasn’t going to miss such a golden opportunity. I reached out with both hands, fingers spread, and covered his pecs, “feeling” them. They were indeed firm, yet the texture was nice and full.
After a few squeezes, his nipples poked out against the shirt. Grinning, I asked what that was and gave one a pinch. His face suddenly flushed. “You little brat, don’t go pinching people’s nipples. Aren’t you afraid I’ll lose control?”
I laughed and said I wasn’t scared—bring it on.
We were at Ajisen Ramen at the time, so we didn’t dare go any further. After a few jokes we changed the subject.
When he went to the factory he dressed more casually—sometimes just a T-shirt and shorts, with Nike sneakers. He mostly wore black cotton socks, so I got plenty of eye candy, seeing his thick calves covered in dense leg hair.
The crotch of his shorts always bulged noticeably. Once I was staring and got caught. He quickly explained, “I’m not hard, okay? The position just isn’t right so it’s sticking out—don’t misunderstand.” That only made it more obvious he was packing something big down there! He didn’t realize how seductive his own words were. I often caught glimpses of black underwear peeking out when he bent over. I wondered when I would get to see him in just his underwear… or nothing at all…
The opportunity came quickly.
One day near the end of work at the factory, he slipped and fell. His pants got covered in oil.
His car had white leather seats, so oil would definitely stain them. He asked me to cover for him while he took off his outer pants at the car and got in wearing only his underwear.
That day I happened to need to go to his place to pick up a document, so I went home with him. Watching him drive in nothing but a pair of small black briefs, black cotton socks, and casual leather shoes—his thick thighs and calves covered in hair—looked incredibly sexy.
I couldn’t help reaching out to touch his thigh. He chuckled twice and said today was really embarrassing, letting me see him like this. I said it was fine—I actually thought it was pretty funny.
“Manager Zhang, your legs are so muscular.”
He said of course—they were from playing soccer back in the day. I added, “I heard men with a lot of body hair have strong sex drives. Yours must be especially strong, right?” He gave me a wicked grin. “You’ve got quite a bit of body hair yourself. Is your sex drive strong?” My face turned red, but I didn’t want to drop the topic, so I said quietly, “I’m pretty perverted.” He heard me and said, “Oh? You don’t look it—usually so well-behaved.” I stopped talking, afraid of distracting him while driving. Then I secretly glanced at his crotch with my peripheral vision. Unfortunately he was sitting, so I couldn’t see much. I could only wait for the right moment.
He drove straight into the underground garage of his building, then planned to take the elevator upstairs. I ran ahead to call the elevator, made sure no one was inside, and gestured for him to come over.
He jogged over, and this time I got a good look at his lower body. It was definitely bulging—black briefs, neither too loose nor too tight, perfectly wrapping around his package, the front proudly protruding. Once we squeezed into the elevator I got an even closer look. From the outline, he seemed to have his dick pointing upward; I estimated the length at around ten-plus centimeters, and it looked pretty thick. The foreskin wasn’t long—I could see the shape of the glans. His balls hung heavily below, making the whole thing look very enticing.
I wished I could drop to my knees right there and lick him all over.
He seemed to notice me staring at his crotch. His face flushed slightly, but he didn’t look angry. The elevator dinged—17th floor. His wife was away on a business trip, so their child was staying at the grandmother’s house. He had been living alone these past few days, occasionally going to his mother-in-law’s for meals. The apartment had a nice atmosphere—lots of books, a dedicated study with bookshelves covering all four walls. I sat in the living room while he went to get the document. After a while he came out. I noticed he hadn’t bothered to put pants back on.
After I got the document I was about to leave when he said, “Little Xue, no rush. Let me cook you dinner—as thanks for covering for me today.” I didn’t refuse and was overjoyed inside.
The kitchen was hot, so while cooking he took off his shirt and, wearing only his underwear, tied on an apron and started washing and chopping vegetables. Was he deliberately seducing me? I helped out beside him, sweating nonstop—whether from the heat or excitement, I didn’t know. Soon I was soaked.
Seeing how hot I was, he told me to take off my clothes, but I thought that would be too rude, so I said it was fine, I’d dry off soon.
Once the food was ready he brought me one of his T-shirts to change into.
Wearing his clothes felt like being pressed directly against his skin. There was a faint scent on them—the same one that always clung to him. I instantly got hard. His cooking was good; I praised it nonstop. After dinner I had no reason to stay, so I said goodbye. But something was still stuck in my chest. I felt like if I didn’t say something today, I might not get another good chance.
So I gathered my courage and said, “Manager Zhang, your thing is really big.”
He looked startled. I immediately regretted it—how could I say something so lewd to my boss? While I was panicking, he suddenly burst out laughing. “Kid, how do you know it’s big? I haven’t even taken everything off for you to see.”
“I… I saw how much it was bulging in your underwear.”
“Haha, it’s average. Not that long, just a bit thick.”
At that moment my hand moved on its own, reaching straight for his crotch. It really did feel thick and heavy. I gently stroked it, fantasizing about one day giving him a blowjob, licking every inch of his skin… He grabbed my wrist with his strong hand and said with a laugh, “Keep touching and it’s going to get hard, you know.” I suddenly realized how ridiculous I was being and fled in a panic.
That night at home, thinking about everything that had happened—Zhang Hao’s muscular body in nothing but black briefs and black socks, the big bulge in front of his underwear, the feeling of his thick cock and heavy balls under my fingertips, and the faint scent on the clothes he lent me—I came all over my small room.
After that incident, I thought the next day at work would be awkward. But when I saw him the next day, he was still his usual serious, professional self during work hours. The moment we walked out of the factory gates after work, he went back to his normal self—no awkwardness at all.
He still joked with me, told dirty stories, and when he got especially cheerful he would even put an arm around me.
I relaxed. Since the last incident hadn’t caused any problems, maybe I could take things a step further. Every time he told dirty jokes or pretended to take advantage of me, I would fight back just as hard—shamelessly copping plenty of feels. After a while, he once looked at me during a joke and said, “Comrade Xue Xiaoran, is there any part of my body you haven’t touched yet?” I just grinned.
As time passed, I found myself looking forward to work every day. The moment I opened my eyes in the morning I was filled with anticipation. It was a very positive feeling. Although we hadn’t gotten any more intimate, just maintaining the status quo already made me very happy. Every day I could see his muscular figure in a suit, occasionally catch glimpses of skin, and sometimes notice his suit pants tenting (he was always bulging a bit, but sometimes it was obvious he was hard, creating a very noticeable outline). I would tease him about it and he would just blush and punch me. What really made me happy was that he clearly knew I was interested in him, yet he never pushed me away. I could feel our hearts getting closer and closer. As I became more familiar with the work, after more than two months we were so in sync that a single glance was enough to understand each other, and our performance kept improving.
It was obvious Zhang Hao trusted me more and more. Besides the usual jokes, he started sharing his inner thoughts—childhood memories, worries about his parents’ health, and his increasingly distant marriage…
I felt like he no longer saw me just as a subordinate, but also as a friend he could share his feelings and secrets with.
He told me he had been married for four years. They had dated in college, and after graduating and settling into stable jobs they got married. But once they were married, both focused on their careers. Their careers flourished and they had a child, but their relationship drifted further apart. The child often stayed at the grandmother’s. Because his wife was frequently away on business trips, the large apartment was often occupied by him alone.
So sometimes when we worked late he would just take me home with him. We would cook together, watch TV afterward, chat, have some red wine, and then I would sleep in the guest room. The next morning I would ride with him to work. Everything felt so natural and peaceful. Sometimes I brought a change of clothes; sometimes I just wore his. Eventually I even started wearing his underwear—his size was two sizes larger than mine, so his slightly tight briefs felt almost like loose boxers on me.
Pretty funny.
Sometimes after a shower we would watch TV on the couch. I would rest my head on his stomach while we watched boring dating shows, roasting the guests and host or laughing nonstop. His stomach was soft and broad. After showering and changing into a loose T-shirt he looked like a big kid. The fresh scent of body wash still lingered on his skin, mixed with the faint fragrance of his clothes, his special aftershave, and occasionally a very masculine sweat smell. His scent had already imprinted itself on my mind.
Sometimes when he laughed his stomach would bounce up and down. I could feel his body separated from me by only a thin layer of soft fabric, the warmth seeping through and making my ears turn red.
Sometimes he would tell me about his hometown in the northeast—the endless fields, the fertile black soil that turned the world golden every autumn, every household celebrating the harvest. He said sometimes he would climb the hills on the outskirts of the county town and look out over the flat world, feeling how small he was. Even though there was nothing blocking his view, he still yearned for the outside world, for the south he had heard about—everywhere small bridges over flowing streams, everywhere the smell of fish and rice cooking.
So he came south for university, stayed to work, and became a northerner settled in the south…
Listening to him, I would fall asleep. In a daze I would feel him pat my head, carefully lift my head off his stomach, pick me up, and carry me to the bedroom.
By then I was almost awake. Although it felt embarrassing for a grown man to be carried like that, I couldn’t help enjoying the feeling of being in his arms, even if it was only for those few short steps. I didn’t dare open my eyes to look at him, but I could feel how strong the arms holding me were. At the same time I lewdly imagined him naked, holding me and thrusting into me forcefully… I was covered in sweat.
My lower body started to heat up.
He gently laid me on the bed and was about to leave. Panicking, I grabbed his hand tightly, eyes still closed. In the darkness I heard him laugh softly and mutter, “You little brat, who are you dreaming about?” Then he carefully pulled his hand free, patted my head, and soon I sank back into deep sleep.
The swimming competition came the following week.
The company had booked a neighborhood swimming pool for an afternoon to hold the event. The swimming competition was a company tradition held every summer, and apparently Zhang Hao was already a veteran—he always placed in the top three but had never taken first.
Today he didn’t look particularly nervous either. He was still casually joking with Sister Liu, making her blush and want to hit him, but she was too embarrassed because he was completely naked.
Actually, I noticed Sister Liu stealing glances at Zhang Hao’s body.
I was doing the same. Even though I had spent the night at his place many times, this was the first time I could openly stare at him in nothing but swim trunks.
Being from the north, he really was quite imposing.
He always claimed to be 180 cm tall. Usually I couldn’t really tell, but today he looked every bit of it. His two large, pale pecs were beautifully shaped—people couldn’t help wanting to cover them with their hands and squeeze hard. The worst part was the two red-bean-like nipples. I wondered if licking them would make him lose control and pin me down…
His abdomen had a bit of fat but wasn’t obviously overweight, covered in a layer of dark fuzz that disappeared into his black triangular swim trunks. The trunks were tight, the front bulging high as if displaying his masculine power. You could see two large testicles hanging below, making the trunks even fuller.
Below that were his thick, hair-covered thighs and calves.
This man—I had fallen asleep on his stomach, I knew his scent, I had seen him embarrassed, I had heard his childhood stories… Suddenly I felt a sense of pride, a feeling that “this is my man.”
Since I had only learned to swim the year before and had been busy with work, I hadn’t practiced much. I was really just there to fill the numbers for the department—participation was what mattered.
Zhang Hao must have eaten something good this year—he actually won two first-place finishes. Our department went wild. Because the company wanted to encourage internal collaboration and teamwork, winning contestants earned their department different amounts of “department development fund rewards” to be used for department gatherings, buying gifts for employees, etc.
With two first-place wins, our sales department received 20,000 yuan in funding. Plus whatever was left from last year, Manager Wang promised to organize a department trip next month using that money, and he would cover any shortfall himself! He said this while happily patting Zhang Hao and praising him nonstop.
Although I didn’t place, I still felt incredibly proud and celebrated along with everyone.
Sister Liu and Little Zhang kept dragging Zhang Hao around to take various bodybuilder-style photos, entertaining the whole crowd. I also heard many people praising Zhang Hao’s physique.
I took all the compliments as praise for my man.
By the time Sister Liu and the others finally let us go shower and change, the other competitors had mostly finished and left. The locker room was now occupied only by me and Zhang Hao.
Although we had still been laughing nonstop when we first came in, the moment we realized it was just the two of us, we both fell silent. All we could hear was the dripping of a leaking faucet and our own breathing.
Zhang Hao, please don’t breathe so heavily, okay? I’m not going to be able to control myself…
We started washing in silence. Zhang Hao was across from me. This locker room was old and didn’t even have doors.
What a perfect chance to look at his body!
But I felt a little shy and kept my back to him while washing, desperately wanting to turn around but worried he would notice. He, on the other hand, was very open. After a while he turned toward me, washing and chatting at the same time. If I kept my back to him it would seem petty, so I turned around too.
We faced each other completely naked.
The first thing I saw was the thick, dark bush between his legs and the meat hanging there—resting obediently, fairly dark in color, the glans half-exposed, about ten centimeters long, but very thick, meaty, about as thick as the circle formed by touching my index finger and thumb together.
The glans was reddish. His balls hung heavily below like two pigeon eggs—really big and weighty-looking.
He noticed me staring at his crotch and blushed slightly. “What’s so interesting? Don’t you have one too?”
I said, “Not as thick as yours. And my balls aren’t as big.”
He chuckled. “Well, I’m your big brother. Of course the big brother has to be bigger.”
It was the first time I’d heard that logic. I didn’t know whether to laugh or get angry.
I told him, “Brother Zhang, your body is really sexy. Your wife must be incredibly happy.”
He looked a little embarrassed but also confident. He glanced down at his own body and said, “Not to brag, but even though I’m over thirty, my physical condition is still excellent. Handling one or two women is no problem at all. You have no idea how crazy your sister-in-law used to get when we were doing it. Next time I have a chance I’ll teach you some tricks.”
Suddenly he seemed to remember something. “Kid, come here. Scrub my back for me.”
I said, “I don’t know how to scrub backs.”
He said, “I’ll teach you.” Then he turned off his own shower, walked over, had me turn my back to him, and started scrubbing my back.
He scrubbed hard. My back stung; my skin was definitely red.
But I didn’t make a sound.
I only heard him complain, “These southern towels are useless. Up north we use special scrubbing towels—those are thick. Scrubbing your back with them feels amazing and actually gets you clean!”
I wasn’t really listening because I could feel his lower body occasionally brushing against my ass. Even though it was only for an instant, it felt like an adrenaline shot straight to my heart. All my attention was focused behind me. Following the rhythm of his scrubbing, I mischievously pushed my hips back now and then, always managing to bump into his soft member.
I even pressed right up against him and started rubbing side to side…
Suddenly, gradually, I felt that thing behind me getting thicker, harder, until it was pressed stiffly against my ass! I could even feel his exposed glans touching my skin!
Then I heard him say quietly, “You little brat, you’re really not behaving…”
Looking down, I saw I was already painfully hard, almost ready to explode. Realizing how urgent the situation was, I quickly grabbed the towel from his hands, made him turn around, and started scrubbing his back.
He noticed my embarrassment and comforted me. “We’re men—full of vigor. This is normal, nothing to be ashamed of. Back home when brothers scrub each other’s backs this kind of thing happens all the time. Everyone just laughs it off.”
I mumbled some acknowledgment while glancing at his cock, which was still standing tall—twice as thick as when soft, so thick that one hand might not even wrap all the way around it. It stood at a 100-degree angle, slightly upward, the foreskin retracted, the reddish mushroom head proudly displayed, full and glistening.
As I scrubbed, I couldn’t help pressing my painfully hard cock against his round, firm ass and rubbing against it. My left hand reached around and grabbed his cock. He didn’t object—in fact, his breathing grew heavier, as if encouraging me to go further…
I didn’t care anymore. I had dreamed countless times of this man’s naked body, of him jerking off. Now I was holding him in my arms, my rock-hard cock pressed against his muscular, firm ass, one hand gripping his thick shaft!
The shower water was still pounding down on us, but I couldn’t hear any sound. The world seemed to have gone silent just for us—only his increasingly heavy breathing and the occasional moan.
I looked up and gently took his water-droplet-covered earlobe into my mouth. He finally let out a deep “Ah!” from the back of his throat.
My left hand sped up, stroking faster and with larger movements. My right hand slid up his furry stomach to his chest, grabbing hard. In this moment, he was mine!
I felt his palm growing hotter and hotter. He finally abandoned all restraint and began moaning wantonly. I tightened my grip on that thick, steel-hard male member—the soft outer skin contrasting with the iron hardness inside, feeling almost 100 degrees. My cock kept rubbing against his ass while I let out a lion-like roar. It felt so fucking good!
Suddenly his entire body tensed. He roared, “I’m coming!” Thick white streams shot forward one or two meters across the walkway, breaking through the water curtain. I felt his cock pulsing in my hand. I came too, the world spinning around me. I clung to him tightly, my cum pressed between his back and my stomach, wishing every inch of our skin could fuse together.
I stuck out my tongue and licked his back—it was salty. He was sweating!
We stayed like that for about five minutes before silently separating and returning to our own showers to finish washing. Then we dressed in silence.
I stole glances at him. He was just frowning, thinking about something—the same expression he always wore at work. I had always found his serious expression sexy, and in the bathroom it took on a whole new flavor. But I couldn’t think about that. I had no idea how he would react to what had just happened.
Would he fire me?
Or transfer me away?
From now on would he find me disgusting and never want to talk to me again?
He had just been saying it was normal for vigorous men, and now this… It felt like a piece of my heart was missing.
I silently followed him out of the locker room. The lights were already on—it was dusk. I thought this was probably goodbye. Even though we had done something so intimate, I didn’t regret it.
I would remember everything we did today—how his thick cock felt, his muscular body, his body heat, his smooth skin, and the sounds he made in my arms… It would be enough to savor for a long, long time. I was content.
Suddenly he turned around and smiled. “Where should we eat dinner?”
The night was thick. I couldn’t clearly see his expression.
But his upturned lips and white teeth were so distinct—it was like stadium lights had suddenly turned on in my heart, illuminating every corner.
I had thought our relationship was over, but he still wanted to have dinner with me. I was overjoyed inside, though I tried to act casual on the surface. That night we went to Pizza Hut and ordered a large pizza. Although he talked to me as cheerfully as usual, I couldn’t help feeling the atmosphere was a little different.
It wasn’t that he was rejecting me—it just felt like our relationship had changed.
The way he looked at me seemed to have something extra beyond the usual.
If I had to describe it…
It was like he had dropped all his defenses. Yes, that was it. There was no more wariness in his eyes—the kind of soft, water-like gaze that exists between people in an intimate relationship.
In the days that followed I felt like I was walking in a dream. Everything he did seemed to seduce me (he definitely wasn’t doing it on purpose—it had to be my own imagination…)
So even the most ordinary actions looked like blatant seduction to me. For example, he wore a new white dress shirt that was a bit small because he had bought it a while ago.
Because it was small, it was stretched tight—his arm and chest muscles were completely visible, even the two red beans on his chest… I could almost see their tender red color, standing full and erect…
His hair was cut even shorter, making his sideburns look more stylish.
Sometimes I would see him gently stroking his thigh through his tightly stretched gray suit pants while thinking. Then he would pull his pants up a little, revealing black cotton socks wrapped around thick calves, a patch of tanned skin showing between sock and pant leg, covered in hair.
When he stood up, his crotch was always bulging, as if it contained endless desire…
It made focusing on work very difficult. My mind was constantly replaying that day in the swimming pool locker room—his thick back, the warmth of his cock still lingering in my palm, the force of his ejaculation, his low growl…
I really wanted to have proper sex with him instead of living on these fleeting, accidental memories.
Because of a sudden major project at the company, we worked three straight weeks without a single day off.
So I was able to focus on work for a while, maintaining a high level of synergy with him—like two perfectly meshed gears turning tightly together. Even though it was exhausting and left no time for rational thought, there was a strange sense of pleasure in it.
When the busy period finally ended, he invited me over to his place for dinner as a reward.
I readily agreed and didn’t let my mind wander.
That evening he made pasta. On the way home from work he had made a special detour to Metro to buy meat sauce. So we commuted home together, shopped for dinner ingredients at the supermarket, and then watched him sweat profusely while cooking for me… It really felt like dating.
His mood was great. Thanks to this project we had saved the company a full six months’ worth of time, far surpassing our “friendly competitor” (the company called them that, but they were really our rival—our enemy). We had dominated the market for the past two quarters. Zhang Hao had made a huge contribution this time, and his future looked bright.
I could see the joyful satisfaction in his eyes when he looked at me.
He cooked while I washed the dishes. When I finished, he was already sitting on the couch watching TV.
Without thinking I lay down next to him. He wordlessly flattened himself out, and I ended up resting my head on his stomach again while we watched TV. It had been a long time since we’d had this kind of contact. Besides occasional work-related touches, the last time we had been this close was at the pool. He occasionally joked about that day, but every time I got embarrassed and the topic would end there.
It was clear he didn’t think anything was wrong with what had happened, but I was still shy about it—which he loved teasing me about.
He had taken off his suit pants and was wearing black briefs underneath. On top he had changed into a loose T-shirt.
Lying there watching TV, my hand unconsciously started gently stroking his thigh.
Seeing no reaction, I suddenly decided to go higher.
So without any more hesitation, I reached his crotch.
His balls really were big—heavy and weighty. Moving upward, I felt his half-hard cock—still thick and meaty. I gently squeezed it. He kept watching TV, ignoring me, letting me play with him as I pleased. The shaft kept swelling, getting thicker, longer, harder. I kept rubbing and squeezing it through his underwear until I noticed precum continuously leaking from the tip, soaking the front of his briefs.
Suddenly overcome by impulse, I couldn’t stop myself. I turned around and buried my face between his legs, pressing my nose against his balls and inhaling deeply the strong masculine scent on his underwear. Mmm, the smell of a real man—urine, sweat, mixed with the scent of semen. At that moment, he let out a low growl from deep in his throat.
I had heard that sound before—the one that haunted my dreams. I knew he was aroused, responding to me, seducing and encouraging me to the extreme!
I decided that tonight I would do everything I could to complete what I had always wanted to do with him.
The thing I had dreamed of doing with him.
Tonight was the night.
Psyching myself up, I gathered my courage and said, “Zhang Hao, take your clothes off. I want to see your body.”
He didn’t respond. My heart went cold with regret.
I should have just kept quiet!
Maybe if I had just acted I could have gotten close to him. The moment I spoke, he regained his senses and now we couldn’t continue!
Before the thought even finished flashing through my mind, I saw him hesitate for a moment, then quickly pull off his T-shirt. He was left wearing only a pair of black briefs with a rock-hard cock tenting them.
I told him to stand up straight. In the flickering light from the TV (we never turned on the main lights while watching), I greedily devoured his body with my eyes. His tanned skin glowed from a day of running around. His broad, rounded chest, thick arms, and meaty, muscular body made me feel like I was on fire with desire.
And those black briefs—his hard cock stood straight up, stretching the elastic fabric high, the shape of the glans clearly visible. The front was wet, as if it could drip. The briefs were pulled up enough to reveal the thick, dark pubic hair underneath. He stood there in nothing but those briefs and a pair of black cotton socks on his feet.
He just stood there letting me look, but his eyes were wild, as if they were on fire.
He patted my head as if encouraging me. I took the hint and let him guide me down to his crotch.
I crouched down and started rubbing my face against his lower body through the fabric.
Closing my eyes, I savored the moment. Everything was unfolding before me—he was mine tonight.
I could lick however I wanted, suck however I wanted!
I stuck out my tongue and licked the precum leaking from his glans—salty, his unique taste. I was intoxicated. I licked frantically through his underwear until it was completely soaked. I knew the sacred moment was approaching. I yanked his briefs down. His dark cock sprang up and slapped against his lower abdomen, the mushroom head proudly raised, thick veins bulging along the shaft, displaying its masculine power.
I leaned in and greedily took it all the way into my mouth. Zhang Hao let out another low growl.
I used my tongue to stimulate his glans, then took his entire shaft into my mouth until it hit the back of my throat.
I wanted all of him. In this moment, he had no choice but to give it to me.
He stroked my hair, then held my head with both hands and started thrusting forcefully into my throat.
My throat reflexively gagged, but the spasms seemed to turn him on even more. He fucked my mouth wildly. I sucked hard on his cock, my hands roaming over the backs of his thick, muscular thighs, then up to his firm, full ass, gripping it tightly, wishing I could swallow his entire root into my stomach and make it part of me.
Looking down at his black cotton socks only fueled my lust. My desire for his body was more overwhelming than ever.
Then he pulled his cock out of my mouth. I felt reluctant, but instantly he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. We embraced tightly, forgetting everything around us, kissing deeply. His thick lips, his stubble, his wet tongue, the taste in his mouth—everything stimulated my senses, making me burn all over.
He stripped off my clothes. Soon we were both naked except for our socks, kissing passionately.
His cock rubbed continuously against my stomach. Our precum was everywhere, providing unexpected lubrication. I grabbed both our cocks and stroked them together in my hand. Looking up, I saw him with his eyes closed in pleasure—this muscular man now belonged to me alone.
He was sweating. Sweat ran down his chest—extremely sexy.
I reached up with one hand and pinched his nipple. He growled again.
Suddenly I realized I didn’t know how to have sex with him. All the sexual experience I had accumulated with previous boyfriends seemed completely useless—my mind went blank. I just wanted to become one with him as much as possible, to feel his presence, to get closer and closer and closer until we merged into one.
He opened his eyes. I looked at him and said, “Zhang Hao, let’s have sex.”
He nodded, ran into the bedroom, and came back with condoms and lube for both men and women. Watching him run around naked in nothing but black socks, his erect cock swinging with every step—he was the sexiest man in the world. Once everything was ready, he sat on the couch and had me lie across his lap, then guided my hand to his cock.
I gently held that treasure. It was only a few centimeters from my face. I pressed against it, rubbing lightly, feeling its powerful throb and its musky scent.
I carefully licked his pigeon-egg-sized balls, the soft sac, and the base of his cock, then the glans…
He was painfully hard. He stroked himself a couple times, tore open a condom, and rolled it on. His cock stretched the condom to its limit—extremely sexy.
He had me get on all fours on the couch, applied lube to his cock, and tried to push in.
This made me a little nervous. It had been over a year since I last had sex, and without any fingering beforehand it was probably going to hurt a lot. But I didn’t want our first time to end like this. I wanted him to enter me however he preferred. Because our bodies were so different, and he had never been with a guy before, he struggled for a while and couldn’t get in. He looked a bit flustered.
I turned my head and saw him sweating and looking desperate—like a teenager experiencing forbidden fruit for the first time. My heart suddenly filled with love for him. He had me flip over to face him, lifted my legs, and this time he slid in quickly.
I felt him fill my body completely. Although it hurt a lot, I felt incredibly satisfied inside.
He started moving carefully. I tried my best to relax and match his rhythm.
Suddenly he stopped.
He said, “Let’s stop. You’re in too much pain.”
I didn’t want him to stop, so I smiled and said it didn’t hurt—I wanted to finish with him.
He said, “Look at the sweat on your forehead.”
I wiped his forehead too and said, “You’re sweating too. The room’s just hot. It’s not pain. Just keep going, but not too hard.”
So he started thrusting again—slowly at first, then gradually faster. His balls slapped against my ass with sexy smacking sounds. We stayed face-to-face. I could easily look into his eyes. He looked at me with wild possessiveness, but also a soft, water-like tenderness. I leaned in and kissed him, watching his focused expression as he fucked me. I wondered if we looked obscene.
Before I knew it, I had adapted to his movements inside me and started feeling something wonderful. I began to moan.
Hearing my moans made him work even harder. Listening to his heavy breathing and feeling his cock pounding inside me, I let myself cry out loudly.
“Ah~ ah~~ Zhang Hao~~~ Fuck me harder!”
His sweat dripped onto my arm. I licked it off, then used my tongue to feed it into his mouth for him to suck.
Suddenly he yanked off one of his black cotton socks and stuffed it into my mouth.
He said, “You’ve been staring at my socks this whole time. I wanted to stuff one in your mouth while I fuck you.”
I hadn’t expected him to be so in sync. I thought our first time he would be shy or reserved, but he was surprisingly playful. I had wanted to lick his feet but held back, afraid he would be disgusted.
He really gave me a pleasant surprise.
I sucked on his sock, desperately inhaling the scent of his sweat and the sock itself—that slightly intoxicating smell. Watching him lean over me, his cock sliding in and out of my hole, his pubes slapping against my ass, his sweat mixing with mine, not a single gap between our skin…
We were fucking wildly.
The world disappeared. Only we remained.
I never imagined that the fantasy I had jerked off to countless times just months ago would become reality today.
I grabbed his ass—smooth from sweat, the texture incredibly good! Gasping, he said to me, “Ranran, I want to cum on your face, in your mouth.”
I nodded eagerly.
He quickly pulled out, yanked off the condom, knelt beside my face, pulled the sock from my mouth, and pressed his cock against my face. He stroked himself vigorously. Suddenly he cried out, “Ah!” Thick white cum sprayed out, splattering across my face and the couch. His cock kept pulsing. I took it into my mouth and let the rest of his load shoot straight down my throat, swallowing every drop and licking his glans clean.
He used the black sock to wipe the cum off my face, then slipped the cum-soaked sock over my cock and used it to jerk me off.
I lay in his arms, stroking his chest muscles while he leaned down and kissed me deeply, teasing me with his tongue. Soon I came hard in his hand. I rubbed the sock soaked with my cum all over his body while he lay limp on the couch, letting me do whatever I wanted…
Then we showered together. He carefully helped me clean up back there and asked if it still hurt.
His tone was full of concern.
I said it actually still hurt quite a bit. He said next time he would definitely be gentler.
My heart skipped a beat—he was willing to have sex with me again! It felt like flowers blooming inside me.
After the shower I didn’t go back to the guest room I usually slept in. Instead I went to his bedroom and lay down beside him.
He looked sleepy, lazily chatting with me between yawns. “Actually, other guys have shown interest in me before, but I always resisted. For some reason with you I never felt that resistance—not at all. The moment I saw you I wanted to work with you. I don’t know why, but I started fantasizing about us fighting side by side.”
“I knew you were interested in me.”
“You have no idea how your eyes lit up when you looked at my body.”
“I’ve never been with a guy before. But I like the feeling of being close to you. I like how you work with me so seamlessly, how you help me solve problems when we go out for business, how you teach me those tongue-twisting English words, how you smile.”
“What happened today wasn’t something I expected, but it didn’t surprise me too much either. I really like you.”
My eyes suddenly welled up. I couldn’t speak, so I buried my face deep against his chest.
He said, “It felt really good doing it with you. Really satisfying. It’s like I’m full of energy again.”
“Will we do it again?”
“Whenever you want.”
“Of course I want to. But next time I get to fuck you!” I grinned…
End.