My new arrogant boss is someone I know - Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Author’s note: All my characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the adult characters.

Chapter 3

The next morning I arrived even earlier than usual. Something pulled me to the office like a magnet. My throat still felt raw from the day before, and every time I swallowed I could taste the memory of him. Calum’s office door was already open. He didn’t look up when I stepped inside.

“Close it.” I did.

He finished signing something, set the pen down, and finally lifted his eyes to me. That same flat, assessing look.

“Two men are coming in at eleven,” he said. “They’re closing a very large deal with us. I’ve told them I have a special gesture of goodwill prepared. You’re that gesture.”

My mouth went dry.

“You’ll be under the table before they arrive. You will service both of them. And me. You will not rush. You will not make noise that can be heard above the table. You will keep going until all three of us have finished in your mouth. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He stood, walked around the desk, and stopped in front of me. His hand came up, fingers curling under my chin, tilting my face up.

“If either of them complains about the quality of the service, you’ll be cleaning every pair of shoes in this building on your knees for the rest of the week. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. See you at 11.”

The smaller conference room on the top floor was already prepared. Thick carpet, heavy oak table, three leather chairs arranged at one end. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city, but the blinds were half-drawn, muting the light. Calum locked the door behind us, then pointed beneath the table.

“Under. Now.”

I dropped to my knees and crawled into the dim space. The carpet was soft against my palms. Calum took the center chair and pulled it in close. A moment later I heard the quiet sound of his zipper, then the warm, heavy weight of his cock settled against my cheek—already half-hard, familiar, smelling clean and faintly of soap.

“Don’t touch it yet,” he murmured. “Wait for my signal.”

I stayed still, breathing slowly, listening to the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant city noise far below.

At exactly eleven the door opened.

Two sets of footsteps. Deep voices exchanging greetings with Calum. Chairs scraped. The table shifted slightly as the men sat—one to Calum’s left, one to his right.

“Gentlemen,” Calum said, voice smooth and controlled. “Thank you for coming. The contracts are ready. Before we sign, I wanted to offer a small… appreciation for the size of this partnership.”

A low, curious chuckle from one of the men.

“I’m listening.”

Calum’s hand came down beneath the table and rested on the back of my head. Two firm presses of his fingers.

The signal.

I turned my face and opened my mouth, taking the head of Calum’s cock between my lips. He was thicker than the day before, already swelling. I sealed my mouth around him and began to suck slowly, carefully, keeping every wet sound trapped under the table. Above me, Calum continued speaking as if nothing was happening.

“I’ve arranged for something a little more personal than the usual dinner and wine.”

I worked him deeper, tongue sliding along the underside, feeling him harden fully against my palate. His thighs flexed once on either side of my head, but his voice never wavered.

“You’ll understand in a moment. I’ll invite you to unzip your pants and take out your dicks, there’s an eager suck-hole ready to serve you, gentleman.”

I heard the quiet sound of another zipper to my left. Then another to my right. The air under the table grew warmer, heavier with the scent of three men.

Calum’s hand guided my head off his cock and gently pushed me toward the man on his left.

I crawled the short distance on my knees. The man’s legs were spread. His cock was already out—shorter than Calum’s but thick, the head flushed dark, a bead of precome at the tip. I didn’t hesitate. I opened my mouth and took him in.

A soft, sharp inhale above the table.

“Jesus,” the man muttered under his breath.

Calum’s voice remained calm. “This suck-hole very good at what he does. Take your time.”

I sucked the thick cock slowly, hollowing my cheeks, letting saliva coat the shaft. The man shifted in his chair, leather creaking. His hand came down and rested lightly on the back of my head—not forcing, just resting, as if testing whether I would pull away. I didn’t. I pushed down until my nose brushed the coarse hair at the base and swallowed around him.

A low, choked sound left his throat.

I stayed there for several long seconds, throat working, then pulled back with a slow, wet slide and turned toward the third man.

His cock was longer, slightly curved, already fully hard. I took him into my mouth and began the same careful rhythm—long, deliberate strokes, tongue pressing firmly against the underside, taking him deeper each time. Above the table the conversation continued in low, strained voices. Contracts. Timelines. Percentages. Every few sentences one of the men would pause, clear his throat, or shift in his chair.

I moved between them like that for what felt like a long time—Calum, then the thick one, then the long one, then back again—never rushing, never making a sound louder than the soft, wet pull of my mouth. My jaw ached. My knees burned against the carpet. My own cock strained hard and leaking inside my pants, ignored.

Calum’s hand eventually guided me back to him. I took him deep, swallowing around the head until my throat fluttered. His fingers tightened in my hair for half a second before forcing themselves to relax.

“The final numbers look excellent,” he said above me, voice just a fraction tighter than before. “I think we’re ready to sign.”

I felt the thick cock to my left twitch against my cheek as I turned and took it again. The man above me exhaled sharply through his nose. His thighs tensed. I sucked harder, faster, letting the quiet filthy sounds stay trapped under the table. When I felt him start to swell and pulse, I pushed all the way down and held myself there, swallowing repeatedly.

He came with a low, stifled groan that he tried to cover with a cough. Thick, hot pulses flooded my throat. I swallowed every drop, eyes watering, staying locked in place until the last spasm passed. Only then did I pull off slowly, lips dragging along the length, and turn to the third man.

He was already close. I could feel it in the way his cock jumped the moment my mouth closed around him. I sucked him with long, wet strokes, taking him into my throat on every third pass. His hand clenched in my hair. His breathing had gone ragged.

“Fuck—” he bit off the word.

Calum’s voice cut across the table, calm and almost amused. “Sign the papers, gentlemen.”

The long cock pulsed hard against my tongue. The man above me locked up, a rough, broken sound leaving his throat as he came. I swallowed greedily, taking every spurt, not pulling away until he was finished and softening slightly.

Only then did Calum’s hand guide me back to the center.

His cock was leaking steadily now, the head slick against my lips. I took him deep on the first stroke. He was bigger than both of the others, heavier on my tongue. I hollowed my cheeks and worked him with everything I had left—slow, then faster, then deep again, humming quietly around the shaft. His thighs trembled on either side of my head. His fingers locked tight in my hair.

Above the table the two men were silent except for the quiet scratch of pens on paper.

Calum’s voice stayed controlled until the very end.

“I believe that concludes our business.”

His hips jerked once. His cock swelled against my tongue. A deep, rough sound tore out of his throat as he came—loud enough that it could have been satisfaction at the closed deal. Thick, hot pulses flooded my mouth in heavy spurts. I swallowed convulsively, taking every drop, nose pressed tight against him, eyes streaming.

He kept my head locked in place until the last aftershock had passed. Only then did he slowly pull me off by the hair.

I stayed on my knees under the table, breathing hard, chin wet, throat raw, the mixed taste of three men loads coating my tongue.

Calum’s hand came down, tucked himself away, and zipped his pants with the same practiced ease as the day before. The other two men did the same in silence.

Chairs scraped. Footsteps moved toward the door. Low voices exchanged final handshakes and thanks. The door clicked shut.

Calum waited until the room was completely silent. Then he leaned down slightly, voice low and cold again.

“Stay there until I leave, faggot. Then go wash your face, rinse your mouth, and get back to your desk. If anyone asks why you look like you’ve been crying, tell them the air conditioning is strong on this floor.”

He stood and walked out, leaving me alone under the table on my knees with three loads sliding down my throat and the clear understanding that I had just been used as the closing gift on a multi-million-dollar deal.

All characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the characters.