*All characters are 18+, and this is a work of fiction*
[Start from the beginning](https://www.reddit.com/r/gaystoriesgonewild/s/TNpmXbhhTd)
[Previous chapter](https://www.reddit.com/r/gaystoriesgonewild/s/CEecYfznUM)
**Brief summary:** ***[Garrett](https://www.reddit.com/u/bing_bang_b0ng/s/cg7isMZ7fe) was sought out by [Victor](https://www.reddit.com/u/bing_bang_b0ng/s/3rm05t24fl), the CFO of TannerCorp, to work for him. But Victor wanted more, and the two of them are now a couple in secret, and Garrett is trying a lot of new things.***
———
Victor was up bright and early, and as much as I wanted to accompany him, I was also eager to relax. And to adequately explore the mansion.
“Feel free to look around anywhere or use anything. Eat, drink, soil, destroy, so long as you enjoy yourself today,” Victor said as he fixed his tie in the mirror. I stood, naked, in the doorway of the bathroom.
“Soil? What do you think I plan on doing?” I looked at him through the mirror with an eyebrow raised.
“All I’m saying,” he replied, turning to face me, “is that I want you to make yourself at home. It kills me that I don’t get to spend the day with you. Perhaps I can make it a short day.” He walked up and kissed my cheek, giving my soft cock a squeeze.
As he finished getting ready, I put on my pajamas so I could escort Victor to the door. Karoline handed him a smoothie, and I found myself almost distracted by the delicious breakfast aromas.
But I pulled Victor in for one more kiss goodbye, and he bid both Karoline and me goodbye before slipping into Malachi’s car. I fixed myself a plate of breakfast—toast, fruit, bacon—and invited Karoline to sit with me. She made herself a yogurt parfait and sat down.
“Mr. Garrett,” she said with a smile, “I never sit so much except when you’re here.”
“I don’t believe sitting down is a sign of laziness,” I told her. “You deserve to take a few minutes and enjoy some of the fruits of your labor.” I winked and pointed at her with a big strawberry on the end of my fork.
She laughed quite hard at that, leaning toward me a bit. I helped tidy up my own mess after eating, but she all but forbade me from doing any more work. As I stood up, I stretched, thinking about what I could do to keep myself busy until Victor returned home.
*There’s a pool,* I thought. *And a hot tub, and a jacuzzi, and a bowling lane, and…*
I’d be able to keep myself occupied just fine. Not to mention all the rooms.
That’s when I remembered we’d left a mess in the guest bathroom, and the steam room. So that’s where I went first as Karoline cleaned up the kitchen and got started on preparing for dinner.
I opened the door to the guest bathroom to find a few towels and various containers of some of the oils and creams. Not knowing where to put anything, I treated it like a hotel, gathering up the towels in a pile. I decided to take the jars and bottles to the steam room with me, where a larger mess waited.
The water I’d used to rinse the razor was cloudy with short hairs floating at the top. So I carried that back to the guest bathroom where I dumped it down the drain of the shower. I desperately hoped I wouldn’t, somehow, clog all of Victor’s pipes, but at the same time, I figured he had a good plumber for a place so big.
Back in the steam room, I started picturing the scene from the day before as I gathered up the towels.
The way Victor was so gentle, so trusting, and yet, how he was pulling me out of my shell. His body—his perfectly chiseled body, now with every single muscle visible—and the way he surrendered to me while almost literally guiding my hand.
I was hard, tenting up those silky, black pajama pants. Trying to focus on my task, I tucked away and ignored my boner, and then I took the towels to the guest bathroom to add to the pile. But then I started thinking about sitting in the jacuzzi with Victor, the aromatic oils like a hypnotic perfume, naked together.
By the time I started to stack up the jars and bottles by the door in the steam room—since I wasn’t quite sure where they all went—my cock was throbbing, pointing straight up into the waistband. One jar in particular caught my eye: the moisturizer is rubbed on his body multiple times.
I recalled the tips of my fingers, sliding across every curve, every muscle and bone, as I soothed his freshly-shaved skin. The more I thought about the previous day’s experience, the harder I got, and I couldn’t stop myself from dropping my pants to the floor, grabbing the moisturizer, and hopping onto the metal bench where a nude Victor had been.
A slathered a heavy amount of moisturizer on my cock and closed my eyes, picturing Victor’s smooth body on mine. As I started stroking myself, vivid images of him played in my mind. I thought back to the first time we felt each other up in his office. The first time in my apartment. Cumming inside him on his private jet.
And just like that, I was already close. Simply picturing Victor was enough to bring me to the brink of an orgasm, but I decided to just let it happen.
I thought about Victor, his soft lips, the way he would be staring into my eyes. And then, a massive wave of pleasure hit me like a tsunami, and I spurted a fountain of cum that landed first on my hip bone, then the following rope spilled down into my bellybutton.
I took a heaving breath before standing up. My back, now drenched with sweat, stuck to the metal as I propped myself up on my arms, and then I swung one leg over and climbed off the bench. I made sure none of my nut spilled on the floor as I made my way to Victor’s bathroom.
As I fiddled with the shower, I wondered what time it was. And as the powerful wind from the dryer whipped my hair in every direction, I checked my phone. Victor had hardly been gone for two hours, but he had texted me.
**Missing you like crazy today -V2**
**Can’t stop thinking about you…** I replied. I debated sending him a picture of myself.
*I wonder what he’s up to,* I thought, trying to map out a normal day in my head and picture what he would be doing at that exact point in time. It wasn’t lunch just yet, so I figured he might have a meeting or a conference call.
But as I stood in front of the mirror, I looked at myself. Perhaps I’d put on a little weight from all the lavish meals, and I wasn’t on my feet nearly as much as when I was doing security and delivering food. And yet, at every opportunity, Victor had made it abundantly clear that he found me attractive. *So maybe there’s something there…*
Unfortunately, I’d let lifelong insecurities burrow deep into my psyche, never feeling quite good enough at *anything* to truly make an impact in the world—or even one person’s life. But as I studied myself in the mirror, my legs, my pale thighs, my not-so-flat stomach, my love handles, I started to notice things I did like.
I liked how my half-wet hair looked as it hung down around my face, the dripping tips almost covering my chest like Lady Godiva. As I smiled, I noticed how my eyes creased up a bit in the corners, but it wasn’t something I was afraid or ashamed of. It was proof that, despite many hard times and low moments, I’d still smiled enough to make a lasting impact on my own body.
Perhaps these ‘flaws,’ as the world (and I) perceived them, were merely signs of a live that has been lived, for better or for worse. There were lots of people with ‘perfect’ bodies, including Victor, but I was the only one with mine.
*Well,* I chuckled to myself, *Victor has my body often.*
And if someone who looked like Victor could find things he liked about someone who looked like me, then there had to be some things I didn’t need to worry about. I could get more fit if I wanted. But I was kind, and I was caring, and those things were much harder to do in a short period of time.
So I took a picture, and I sent it along with a message.
**Sorry for the NSFW. Just trying to see myself the way you do…**
And he replied instantly.
**Forgive me if I print that photo out a hundred times to hang on the ceiling above the bed like my own Sistine Chapel.**
He always knew how to make me blush.
**You’re sweet V2. Thank you -G**
I hoped signing off like that didn’t seem like I was trying to force anything. I just thought it was cute, and a way to show him he was rubbing off on me—and not just in bed.
I got dressed in some athletic shorts from a drawer in the closet and one of Victor’s t-shirts that he sometimes wore under dress shirts. Then I walked through the halls, and I stopped at the door to the wax room.
If all went according to plan, Victor and I were to be spending some time together in there that night. I closed the door and turned on the amber light above the table, and I sat down on it. The metal was much cooler than the one in the steam room, which made sense.
On my phone, I looked up information about wax and candle play, how to do it safely, and, just as important, how to do it well. Victor was someone of status and importance, and yet he liked someone dripping hot wax on his naked body. He liked relinquishing a bit of control; and I liked that he wanted me to be the one.
I began inspecting the candles more closely. According to both Victor and my brief research, there were lotion candles and candles that contained some of the same oils we’d bathed in. There were some other candles, too, with a higher melting point, meaning they’d be even hotter on his skin.
*Is that what he likes?* I wondered. His temperature preferences for the hot tub were rather specific, so there was a good chance he might just like it hot.
The more I thought about it, I got increasingly anxious *and* excited. If shaving him had culminated in one of the most intense orgasms of my life, I could only imagine how intense it may be at the end of a session in this room. As I left, I turned off the light, plunging the room back into darkness.
And as I backed out of the room to close the door, I ran into someone.
“Oh, excuse me, sir!” A meek voice came from the person as I whirled around.
Before me stood a short man, maybe ten years older than me, with short, dark hair and prominent forehead wrinkles on his tanned face.
“No, excuse me,” I said. “I’m so sorry!”
The man lowered his head like a bow. In his hands was a pile of clean, sparkling white towels.
“What’s your name?” I asked him as he took a step down the hall.
“Oh,” he replied, sounding surprised. “My name is Gio.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Gio.” I extended my hand, and he nearly dropped the towels to shake it. “I’m Garrett.”
“Yes, Mr. Garrett,” he smiled. “Karolina has said wonderful things. Now, please excuse me for interrupting your day.” And he began to scurry off again.
“It’s no trouble at all,” I called after him. “I’m so sorry I bumped into you!”
He paused for a second, turning back to smile at me.
“And thank you for all you do around here,” I added.
“Of course, sir,” Gio replied. And he disappeared into Victor’s bedroom with the clean towels.
For some reason, I felt such an urge to prove to Victor’s other employees that I was *different.* I was one of them.
*But am I one of them if I’m constantly depending on their services for my own comfort?* Some of the very things I’d been wary or resentful of in Victor were things I was starting to do or take for granted, and I was benefiting from it all. Yet I was trying so hard to live both lives at the same time for the sake of my image.
I decided to go out to the pool. The sun was out, and according to my phone, it was decently warm. I figured the athletic shorts could serve just fine as swim trunks, so I made my way through the hallway, waved to Karoline, and walked outside to the pool. The sun felt nice on my skin, so I took off my shirt first.
Before I so much as dipped a toe in, I searched around for a towel, trying to remember how Victor got us the heated ones, and then I remembered the towel warmer next to the hot tub. I grabbed myself one of the towels on top, and I held the warm cotton against my skin.
Suddenly, a voice caught me by surprise. Karoline had opened the sliding door.
“Mr. Garrett,” she called. “Would you like anything to drink?”
“Oh, no, thank you, Karolina!” I grinned at her. “If I want something, I’ll help myself.”
She winked at me from the door, squinting from the sun.
Before sliding the door closed again, she added, “Oh, and Mr. Tanner always tells me to use the Miss Sylvia to listen to music, but I don’t like the technology. She plays music outside, too.”
“Oh, thanks!” I smiled at her as she returned inside to finish dinner preparations.
I decided to wait a few minutes before getting in the pool, so I sat down on a chaise lounge chair that was studded with gold on the legs, laying the towel down beneath me first. I leaned the chair as far back as it would go, propped my arms behind my head, and closed my eyes, soaking in the sun that was all-too-rare in this part of Washington.
“Sylvia,” I called out, hoping it would work. “Can you please play some music?”
There was a tone, like a beep, and then Sylvia’s voice said, “Voice not recognized. Would you like to add this user to the database?”
I froze for a moment.
“Uh, yes?”
“State your first name, please.”
“Garret…” It was strange having a conversation with a robot, like I was calling in to a customer service line.
“Garrett has been added. Good afternoon, Garrett. Would you like to play the playlist, ‘Garrett Songs’?”
I froze again. *What did she just say?*
“Can you repeat that?” I asked, unsure of what commands she was programmed to respond to.
“Would you like to play the playlist, ‘Garrett Songs’?” Every syllable was in the exact cadence as before, reminding me that this voice was not that of a human.
“Uh, yes, please,” I said. I wondered if this was a playlist generated automatically, or if it was created.
And then the very first song to play was by my favorite band, one I’d gushed to Victor about while on our San Francisco trip.
*He made this playlist,* I realized. I got goosebumps, in spite of the warm sun on my skin. Suddenly, I felt as a tear slid down into my ear. I sat up to wipe it out, using the corner of the towel to blot my eyes.
I lay back, once more, allowing the music to wash over me like the sunlight. And at the same time, I let Victor’s affection wash over me, unabashed from both ends. I didn’t allow myself to doubt or deflect. I allowed it to sink in, to warm me inside.
As the next few signs played, I remembered one of them playing in *Restaurant*, another playing softly in his office when we kissed. Every song was chosen so intentionally. I felt my eyes welling with tears.
So I stood up and jumped into the pool. The cool water shocked my whole system as I plunged in, over my head. I let out all the air from my lungs, sinking like a stone to the bottom. Chlorine stung my eyes as I stared at the sky above, the air, the obscured silhouettes of trees as they swayed in the breeze.
The stone beneath was jagged on my back, and my lungs were starting to ache for oxygen. I closed my eyes, waiting until I couldn’t wait any longer, and I pushed off the floor and launched myself upward with my feet. I gasped for air, and the first song I could hear was Vanessa Carlton’s *A Thousand Miles*.
A wide grin crept across my face as I hoisted myself up by my arms onto the ledge, dangling my feet in the water. Was Victor meant to be the one for me after all? Could we adapt to one another’s lives and make a new one together?
*I really think I want to.* I felt my hands gripping the ledge tighter as I thought about everything.
As another familiar song started playing—one from the credits of a movie we watched at my house—I lay back down on the towel to begin drying off. I closed my eyes again, the breeze cool as it passed over my wet skin, but the sun’s warmth was still enough to pierce through it all.
As the playlist continued, and I dried off, I found myself growing eager for Victor to come home. If for no other reason than just to see him, I couldn’t wait any longer.
“Sylvia, pause the music, please,” I said. The music cut out instantly, and I hopped to my feet, towel around my waist, and I walked on the path back to the bedroom, sliding the door open to let myself in. Gio had long since left that part of the house, so I stripped out of my wet clothes and hung them on the tree to dry before I stepped inside.
I walked straight to the shower, letting warm water rain down on me. The dryer blew my hair around in a frenzy, but I didn’t even care. As I put on some of the clothes I’d brought with me, which wasn’t quite as comfortable as borrowing Victor’s clothes, but I didn’t want to be burdensome.
There were still a few hours until Victor arrived, and I was lost at what else to do. Ironically, in a mansion with endless possibilities, I was frozen in indecision, because the one person I’d want to do any of it with wasn’t there.
“I need a hobby,” I mused aloud.
But, to my delight, I looked at my phone to see a message from Victor.
**I’m “working from home” this afternoon. I can’t bear it knowing you’re there. Malachi will be here to pick me up soon. -V2**
It was a wish come true. And I was buzzing for every single minute until he arrived. After giving Karoline a heads up, I greeted Victor at the door, practically jumping into his arms.
“Oh, darling,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. “I never miss this place more than when you’re here and I’m not.” He looked around the room as he took off his blazer. “Good afternoon, Karoline.”
“Hello, Mr. Tanner,” she smiled. “You’re early. Dinner will be at its normal time.”
“That’s quite all right,” he said, unbuttoning his cuffs. I followed him back into the bedroom as he slipped his shirt and pants off.
In his underwear before me, his smooth body looked irresistible, and blood rushed to my dick.
“So, you’re working from home?” I asked, wanting to jump his bones.
He laughed. “According to everyone at the office, sure. But I don’t think my father will terminate my employment for leaving a few hours early.”
“Fair enough,” I chuckled.
And suddenly he pounced forward, pushing me up against the doorframe, kissing my neck. His hard bulge was pressed against mine, and his hands slid up my shirt. I raised my arms, and my shirt was promptly pulled off. Then those same hands undid my pants and dove in to grab my hard cock.
So I repaid the favor, reaching into Victor’s briefs, squeezing his girth. I felt him moan onto my neck, tugging my cock greedily. Leaning forward, I pushed him back so we could head to the bed, closing the door behind me.
Victor slipped his briefs off and lay on his back. I couldn’t wait any longer for his cock, so I climbed over him and flipped over so his head was inches from my lips, and mine from his.
He took me down his throat instantly, causing me to groan loudly. But I wasted no more time, devouring his cock with a day-long hunger. He tasted salty from the sweat of the day, which aroused me even more. His hips started to push upward into my mouth, so I opened my throat as best as I could and let Victor’s body do what it needed.
He kept shivering on my dick, but his hips began to thrust more purposefully, sliding the thick head in and out of my throat. I could feel some vibrations on my own cock as Victor moaned.
The motion of his hips told me how much time he had spent thinking about exactly this. I was lucky enough to be able to jerk off, but poor Victor was so pent up. I let him use my throat until I couldn’t breathe, and I pulled away, stroking him rapidly as I caught my breath. He stroked me, too, and despite having already gotten off once, I could feel a building sensation already.
I kept stroking him, leaning back down to suck on the head, swirling my tongue in tight circles as I milked out more and more precum. I twisted my head from side to side as I bobbed up and down the top half of his shaft, making sure to keep my tongue in constant contact with the head.
And suddenly, the day-long buildup seemed to have caught up to Victor, because he pulled off my dick just in time to grunt out, “I’m cumming!”
And then his load flooded my mouth, salty and warm, and I felt his grip tighten on my cock as rope after rope jetted down my throat. I swallowed it, and I pulled away to lick up one final droplet of white. Then I looked down at Victor, who was lying with his eyes closed, breathing heavily.
“That was fast, sorry,” he sighed with a smile. “What can I say? I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He started stroking me again before slipping my cock back into his mouth.
“Mm,” I groaned. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I already rubbed one out today.” It wasn’t an admission or a confession, but just a statement.
He moaned in my dick again, sucking harder and bobbing faster. One of his hands grabbed my balls, and that, somehow, sent me over the edge again.
“Oh, shit! I’m- ahh!” And I shot a smaller load into his mouth.
As he swallowed, I rolled off of him and crawled next to him to kiss him.
“Welcome home,” I smiled. “I hope this doesn’t mean we don’t get to use the special room later.”
“Oh, yes, we will,” he growled, sitting up. “After dinner, you and I are going in there together.”
“I’m actually really excited to try it. You haven’t really steered me wrong yet.” In anything.
We tossed on pajamas and put on a movie until dinner.
“So, Sylvia played me a special playlist today,” I said about midway through.
Victor’s eyes got wide, and I heard a soft gasp.
“She did?”
“Yeah, it was…” I tried to search for the words.
“Embarrassing? I made that playlist mostly for me for whenever you weren’t there. It’s all the songs that made me think of you.”
I felt short of breath for a moment. He had made a playlist about me. It was somehow even more romantic than a playlist for me.
“That’s… amazing, Victor. I honestly got emotional when I listened to it,” I told him.
“Really?” He turned to me. “You don’t think it’s weird?”
“Weird? Are you kidding? That’s so romantic I could throw up.” I grinned and leaned to kiss him.
Suddenly, the dinner bell went off. Victor and I put on some more appropriate clothes and made our way to the kitchen for Karoline’s fresh-fired fajitas and homemade salsa. She’d also prepared a beautiful garden salad, and there was a three-tiered cake for dessert. She noted that the leftovers were for the staff.
“That reminds me,” I said with a mouth full of chicken. “I met Gio today.”
“Oh!” Marveled Karoline.
“Who?” Victor asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Gio,” I repeated. “He works here.”
“Housekeeping,” Karoline added.
“Oh, the shorter fellow? Yes! That’s his name. We had a fellow at our him growing up named Giuseppe, so I always went to call him that.”
I tried not to feel uncomfortable at how Victor had handled that. After all, Gio was, technically, at the same level as me: an employee of Victor. Shouldn’t he know everyone’s names, at least?
But I pushed that aside and enjoyed the rest of dinner. And I also had an idea for the following day.
As Victor stood up to retreat to the bedroom—and the room with the candles—I told him to go ahead.
“I have a question for Karoline,” I told him.
“Alright, darling. Don’t keep me waiting too long.” Then, louder, he said, “Thank you for another perfect meal, Karoline!” And he moseyed to the back of the house.
“What’s your question, Mr. Garrett?” She asked with a devious smile.
I had a plan. A sweet and romantic plan.
“Well…”
**Next chapter is available on Patreon as Early Access!**