Choose Your Own Adventure - Part 5 (Patreon)

You guys are filthy and I love it - the most popular option by a landslide was that Oliver refuses Drake's help, but he gives it anyway. Read on for what happens next and don't forget to vote for the next scenario. 

“Honestly, I’ll just take the slacks you very kindly offered, and I’ll wear those home. No need to inspect the rip on these.”

Oliver felt breathless as Drake closed the distance between them.

“Don’t be silly, Oliver. If we can repair your pants, that’ll be much better for you. Besides, those slacks are bound to be too tight on you.”

Unconsciously, Oliver started to slowly walk backwards from his boss.

Drake smirked and followed him, until Oliver bumped against the door and yelped.

“I get the impression that you’re a little nervous around me, Oliver. What’s going on?”

Oliver’s mouth filled with saliva as he looked into Drake’s blue eyes. He had never wanted a man so badly in his life, but he didn’t want him on a day when he’d ripped his pants and he was wearing a slutty thong.

“I . . . I just really want to get out of here. I feel . . . embarrassed.”

Drake laughed. “Don’t be silly. We’ve all ripped our pants. Now let me check out that rip. Here.”

Before Oliver could protest any further, Drake grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around, pushing him up against the door.

Drake kept his hands on Oliver as he squatted down behind him, brushing his fingertips over Oliver’s back and then his hips.

“Please, Drake, I don’t need you to . . .”

Oliver was silenced as I felt Drake’s fingers on his bare cheeks.

“Well, well, well,” Drake chuckled. “I thought you’d gone commando for the day. I didn’t realise that you were wearing a thong. Who knew you were such a slut?”

His cheeks flushed as Oliver tried to move away, but Drake pressed a firm hand to his lower back.

Drake’s fingers explored Oliver’s crack, stroking the line of the silk thong that was buried between his cheeks.

Trying not to moan, Oliver felt his cock throb again. He was so overstimulated that he couldn’t understand how he hadn’t spontaneously cum already.

“Hmmm . . . this rip is probably irreparable.”

“I can just take your spare pants, Drake. Please.”

“I don’t know,” Drake said with a sigh as he got to his feet. “I can’t just give them to you for free.”

Oliver moved to turn around, but Drake used a forearm across his shoulders to keep him in place.

“Surely you think that’s fair, Oliver. I give you some pants and some dignity, and you give me something in return.”

“Uh I guess, but . . . what do you want?”

Drake slid his free hand inside the rip of Oliver’s pants and pressed two fingers against his thong covered hole.

“Maybe this will make it clearer what I want?”

Oliver’s brain shorted out. How had he never realised that his sex god of a boss wanted him? Surely there must have been signs, but . . .

Drake asking him to work late on a project, just the two of them . . .

Drake complimenting his new suit and groping his bicep . . .

Drake offering him a lift home after work drinks . . .

Fuck, how had he not seen this?

And more importantly, how was this happening now?

Oliver’s cock continued to throb inside the damp confines of his silk thong. He couldn’t do anything with Drake. He’d blow his load in a matter of seconds. Just the feeling of Drake’s fingers pressing lightly against his hole was nearly making him explode.

“You can have whatever you want, Drake, but I need to leave now. Can I just take the pants and we can meet another time?”

Drake laughed. ‘Way to brush me off, Oliver. No chance. You want the pants; you give me what I want. I’ve dreamed of you ripping your pants in the office and showing me that sexy ass and now it’s gonna be mine.”

Oliver whimpered.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?