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Employee of the Month, Day 5: Casual Friday, pt 1


Broody
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Thanks, bro! I got a few ideas for how it could go! Though I am running out of little office details to work in, like those crappy keyboard platforms and the hallway huddles. Send me your office anecdotes!

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[I posted this in Writing Help, but reposting here since it relates to this story]
 

Hey guys,

I want to put some rivalry between some ex-military guys in my office muscle story Employee of the Month, but I don't know enough myself about the branches to authentically represent how the soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines (or others?) would banter with each other. If you were going to throw teasing (or genuine) shade at military dude from a different branch, what would your go-to insults be?

 

Broody

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9 hours ago, Broody said:

[I posted this in Writing Help, but reposting here since it relates to this story]
 

Hey guys,

I want to put some rivalry between some ex-military guys in my office muscle story Employee of the Month, but I don't know enough myself about the branches to authentically represent how the soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines (or others?) would banter with each other. If you were going to throw teasing (or genuine) shade at military dude from a different branch, what would your go-to insults be?

 

Broody

From what i ve seen in movies and tv shows its about the strenght and endurance. Marines are supposed to be better trained than the rest

 

 

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June 5: Casual Friday part 1

There was no formal office dress code at TopSports, but when the boss was a classy clotheshorse like Mr Sartorius, people maintained a certain standard. So even on Fridays, chinos and polo shirts were as casual as it got. 

Except when the boss was away. Then it was a thing of beauty, with athletic gear, backwards baseball caps, tanks and muscle shirts. Casual Friday didn’t do it justice. I called it Frat Boy Friday. 

I was so eager I got there an hour earlier than usual and brought two changes of underwear. The early arrival was also because I had a report to file to Mr Sartorius so he could read it on the plane. I got in the lobby at 7:30 AM and when the elevator arrived it was empty.

“Hold the door!”

I just managed to catch the button in time to re-open the doors for Chiang who strutted in with his road bike over his shoulder, his veiny bicep flexed into a softball.

“Fucking A, Jeffy, just annihilated my ride. Thirty miles in fucking 58 minutes. Can you believe it?.”

I could believe it. And when the elevator doors closed I could smell it. Chiang’s bike togs were soaked through with pungent sweat and clung like a second skin to his jacked torso and monstrous legs.

“Look at this sick pump, lil dude. Fuck!” Chiang dropped his bike, helmet and knapsack to the floor and started flexing his quads. 

The hour long cycle sprint from the ex-urbs had atomized all his body fat and his thighs exploded with shrink-wrapped grainy meat. His knee caps disappeared from view under jutting teardrops and his quad sweep bulged wider than his shoulders. 

“Chiang—“ I trembled, clutching my tote bag. It was too much. My brain couldn’t even register if I was massively turned on, disgusted, or terrified. My painfully rigid prick said the former, but that might have been because in the humid enclosed space I was huffing his testosterone-saturated man-stink like poppers.

“Naw, wait, you can’t see everything, Jeffy.”

He hiked the bike shorts up to his crotch, compressing the sweat-wicking fabric into a hammock for his fat cock, which released cascading streams of wetness into each muscle’s crevices.

“You better catch that, Jeffy, a slippery floor in an elevator is a lawsuit waiting to happen,” Chiang smirked.

I dropped to the floor and licked around the muscle above his left knee like I was catching the drippings of a melting ice cream cone. Then I dove at his right ankle and tongued upwards over his shin then back around over his beastly calf muscle. I nearly gagged as I rasped my tongue over a squiggly earthworm of a vein.

I sat back on my haunches and stared up at his surreal physique, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. I was dozy with lust and slurred my words:

“You gonna… take a shower… at the gym?”

Chiang reached over to tap the button for the floor of the health center, a few floors below our own. But then he paused. 

“Wait, the boss is away today, right?”

I nodded below him, dumbly mouth breathing.

“Then fuck the shower.”

He crossed his arms in front of him and peeled his sopping wet shirt up and off his inhumanly ripped upper body. His pecs settled into inches-thick concrete slabs and his abs, obliques and serratus meshed together like armadillo scales.

“The beta bros in this fucking office can smell a real alpha for a change.”

My eyes bulged out of my sockets and I started to hyperventilate.

“Oh God!” I moaned as Chiang held the dripping shirt over my head and winked.

“I think you’re the one who needs a shower, Jeffy.”

He twisted the shirt and the sweat rained down on my face in sheets. I came so hard I briefly passed out. When I woke Chiang tossed me out on the health center floor with one hand while toweling himself off with the other

“Clean yourself up, dude. This is a fucking office y’know,” he laughed, punching the door close button.

I shook my head.

Frat Boy Friday. Should’ve brought more underwear.

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  • Broody changed the title to Employee of the Month, Day 5: Casual Friday, pt 1

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