After a few weeks, Allen realized he was developing a whopping crush on Mr. Brooks and lived for those few moments when the big man patted him on the back or rested his big paw on his shoulder whilst working at his computer. He assumed the older man was straight because every fifth word out of his mouth was "pussy" or "cunt."
Allen had his heart in his mouth when Mr. Brooks took him along to a regional meeting at the Cleveland district office. On the next to last day of their trip, he could hardly speak he was so nervous when Mr. Brooks invited him along to work out at the hotel gym. He was treated to an unobstructed view of Mr. Brooks's strapping torso in his snug little shorts and sleeveless T-shirt that were soon drenched with sweat.
That night Mr. Brooks treated Allen to dinner and seemed to relax for the first time, in part because he had three vodka martinis. But the evening suddenly had an unexpected twist When Mr. Brooks handed his credit card to the waiter and then turned to whisper in Allen's ear: "How 'bout you come up to my hotel room now and let me stuff my big thick cock deep in your sweet little ass."
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