Choose Your Own Adventure - Part 7 (Patreon)

You guys voted for the guy from accounting to try and bribe Oliver and Drake . . . read on to see what happens and don't forget to vote for what you want to happen next.

Seeing the guy from accounting stood there with his mouth open in shock should have made Oliver cover up, but in his state of post-orgasm haze, he couldn’t move a muscle.

Drake, however, was much quicker to act. He walked across the room, pulled the guy from accounting inside and slammed the door shut.

“Since when do you just walk into an office with knocking, Bobby?”

Bobby was in his early 30’s with short blond hair, a trim build, and a mischievous smile. “Sorry, boss. I didn’t think you’d be jerking off Ollie.”

Oliver blushed furiously and bent down to pull his pants up. However, he quickly realised that he didn’t have any pants to cover up. He was stuck in his silk thong that was still dripping with cum.

“What I do in my office is my business, Bobby?” Drake said as he crossed the office, grabbing the spare pants and tossing them at Oliver.

“Dude, are you wearing a thong?” Bobby asked, seeing Oliver’s undies fully as he turned slightly.

Oliver clasped his hands over the wet silk pouch. “It’s not what you think. I . . .”

Bobby burst out laughing and walked over to get a better look. “You really are.”

Bobby gave Oliver’s butt a slap, but that was too far for Drake who immediately appeared with a hand on Bobby’s chest.

“You’ve burst into my office and now you’re trying to harass Oliver. I would suggest you think very carefully about what you do next.”

Bobby shrugged and took a few steps away from them. “Oh, I think it’s you two who need to think carefully. You see, you were so busy with each other that you didn’t see me filming you. I’ve emailed it to myself and I’m happy to share it more widely. Perhaps with HR? Perhaps with the directors? Your choice of course.”

Drake clenched his fist. “You little fucker. What do you want?”

Oliver held Drake’s spare pants over his crotch. “I’m gonna go and put these on.”

Not wanting to try and wrestle himself into a pair of pants in front of Bobby, Oliver took them into Drake’s closet and closed the door, not wanting to hear what it would take to keep Bobby quiet. As much as Oliver was mortified, he was still in a state of orgasmic bliss. He’d been kissing Drake, and yes, he’d blown his load in seconds, but Drake’s hand had been on his cock. Even if Bobby was going to bribe them, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling almost smug.

“So, what the fuck do you want?” Drake asked as he took a seat behind his desk, subtly wiping some of Oliver’s cum from his hand on to his pant leg.

Bobby laughed. “For a start, I think you should be a little more polite.”

Drake scoffed. “I don’t think I have to be polite when I’m being bribed. This is my career.”

“You should have thought about that before you ripped Ollie out of his pants.”

Wiping his hand across his face, Drake couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. He’d been so distracted by sexy Oliver and his ripped pants that he hadn’t even thought to lock the damn door.

“Look, Oliver ripped his pants, I was trying to help him, and we got carried away. We were only in here for a few minutes, as you must know.”

Grinning, Bobby nodded. “I knew Ollie had ripped his pants as soon as I heard it. I wanted to see if I could help him out but imagine my surprise when I saw you usher him in here.”

“Oh, so this is what this is about? You want Oliver?”

“I’ll have Ollie, don’t you worry.”

Drake gripped the top of his desk, his knuckles white. “You aren’t getting your hands on Ollie.”

“Then I guess I’ll be taking something else.”