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June 1 I’d only been in this office job since March when the boss named me Employee of the Month. It was a sports betting company and the 30 or so employees were almost all straight men. Mr. Sartorius was a tall, handsome silver fox with a taste for well cut suits and a sexy Dutch accent that made me smile as I listened to him make the announcement at the monthly all-staff meeting. “…And Jeffrey’s selection is especially appropriate considering June is… Pride Month!” My smile froze into an embarrassed rictus. I hadn’t come out to anybody in the office. And I certainly hadn’t in the interview. An awkward silence came over the conference room where everyone was packed in standing room only. I looked out at the sea of faces, all masculine former jocks, and stretched my smile into what probably looked like a crazed serial killer grin. Mr Sartorius looked at me with such oblivious sincerity, then back out at the staff expectantly. Several people looked at their feet. Someone coughed. Then Banner, a young ex-soldier with arms like ham hocks, pumped his fist in the air. “Pride month!” he yelled. “HOOAH!” Mr Sartorius was super pleased at this and slapped me on the back with a hand the size of a shovel. I tried to mask my wince of pain. “FUCK YEAH Pride Month!!” Someone else boomed. The boss furrowed his brow and the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Mr Sartorius didn’t like swears. “All right everyone. Back to work. You can all congratulate Jeffrey personally when you have the chance.” I shook his hand and thanked him before fleeing back to my desk. It felt like I had 30 pairs of eyes boring into the back of my head. I plopped down on my cubicle desk chair, relieved. Almost immediately, Banner filled my cubicle entrance. His bowling ball deltoids stretched the maroon fabric of his polo shirt as his jacked Army-honed physique made me throw major wood in my dress slacks. I’d never been this close to him before. He smelled crazy good, like Mennen Speed Stick and spearmint gum. “Jeffy,” he said, a nickname I hated but would let Banner call me forever. “Pride month. That’s the gay month, right?” I full-on blushed and stammered “Uh, uh, uh.” Oh my God. So hot. So dumb. I turned from him and wildly yanked on the sliding platform that allowed my keyboard to be tucked in just below the desk’s surface. It jammed with a squeak. “I got you, Jeffy, this used to be my cube. I know the trick.” Banner reached down between my legs and palmed the bottom of the platform. His cheek brushed mine and the feel of his stubble sent an electric shock straight to my cock. His thick, bare muscular arm stretched out in front of me and as I saw the tension in the tendons and muscles grow I could see clearly what was about to happen but I was a deer caught in the headlights. Banner pulled and his biceps exploded into a breath-taking rippling gourd of veiny power; his forearm then twisted and a second peak pushed out of the muscle like it was giving birth to a baby. I instantly came in my pants. He froze and looked down wide eyed at the wet spot and bulge in my crotch. “Jeffy,” was all he had time to say before suddenly Mr Sartorius was standing next to him. He stood up straight and actually saluted, his eyes practically popping out of his skull. “At ease, soldier,” he chuckled warmly. “I’m glad to see your enthusiasm for your co-worker, Banner, I hope you will encourage your colleagues to be similarly charitable this month.” Banner looked wildly about, confused. “Charitable, Mr S?” “Yes, charitable.” “Sir, yes, sir!” Banner huffed. “Good. Well, carry on.” Banner disappeared so fast he might have vapourized. I grinned stupidly up at the boss, my hands in my lap. He looked at me oddly and sniffed, then shook his head, the pleased smile returning. “So glad you are getting on well here, Jeffrey,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “We really appreciate you.” “Thank you sir,” I burbled, trying for the first time ever to NOT appreciate how nicely thick he was through the chest. Please go down, boner! He turned away and I finally managed to pull out my keyboard. I typed away for the painful last hour before quitting time. As I rushed out to leave, I saw Banner still moving from man to man, whispering in each colleagues’ ear as he alternately pointed at me, and at the boss’ office door. Oh shit. Cont.