Cute Brad

Brad, the solid office services boy, bent over in front of me just as I was heading out of the office. He bent at the hips, which made his large arse look even larger. He had on what looked like big undies under his work trousers, but with his bum I’m guessing that isn’t an option. I could see the outline of the elastic around each of his legs, forming what looked like huge jocks.

Brad with his red hair and his flushed cheeks.

I wanted to goose him. Perhaps, get the tip of my finer into the indentation of his arse crack. He’d come up like one of those toy birds drinking from the cup of water, on speed. (chuckle) See his red-flushed cheeks then.

What noise would he make? “Ooooo!”

I can’t help but picture him as a Rubenesque boy in an oil painting naked, his alabaster skin, his man-boobs, his tummy rolls, a piece of chiffon carefully draped over his crotch, just a hint of red pubes. His thick, hairy thighs.

I don’t know why I am fascinated with him?

I think it is the way his swishes his big arse when he walks. Is it his cheeks that are always flushed red like he is permanently embarrassed? Or is it his demeanour? He is quiet and rather serious. It’s as though he has a secret, like he is a compulsive masturbater. Or he has a problem with sweating and he is always moist. Or he still lives at home and his mother still insists on talcing him up after a shower. She’d hold the towel up for him as he gets out from under the water. She’s a problem sweater too, it’s where he gets it from. He’d call her mummy. She’d breath through her mouth. Maybe he wears women’s underwear under his brown work slacks? Pink lace against his fair skin. Maybe he collects frogs. He pins them to a board and calls them his little lovelies.


(Oh, come on, you try working as an accountant in a corporate office, I’ve got to do something to make the {read boring (that is a little unfair, however)} people I work with more interesting. I think stuff about them all the time. If they could read my mind. {chuckles to himself})

Brad does have the sweetest smile, kind of out the side of his mouth, almost as if it is always despite himself. A reluctant smile is always hot.