Symphony #1: Roger Castleman

It was Friday, and Roger Castleman was beginning his workday the way he always did, by jacking off in the third stall of the corporate bathroom. It was a pathetic habit, and Roger knew it. But he couldn’t help himself. It was that goddamned redheaded secretary. Every morning Roger said he wouldn’t jack it in the corporate bathroom anymore, but then he’d get up to his floor, see that redhead swiveling her quaking ass in that chair, and he was a goner. Roger would be down the hall and in the can, his pants down, that red rod in his hand, before he even had a cup of coffee. He was powerless to the female beast.
Anyway Roger sat in that stall and imagined the redhead leaning over her big, soft work chair, her ringed fingers tightly gripping the top of the seat. She had her skirt off and her panties down at the knees, and Roger was banging her away from behind, in a most glorious fashion. He even had a finger up the redhead’s rosy asshole. What reckless abandon! What a daydream on another drab Friday! That secretary never had it so good, Roger mused. He stroked away. He could almost feel the inside of the redhead’s cunt. It was tight and warm, like a double shot-glass full of bathwater. They were rocking back and forth, shaking the chair, and almost tipping the fucking thing over. Red sucked on Roger’s fingers and moaned, as he continued to hump her. He bent at the knees and plowed upward into that pussy. Roger was getting ready to come. He stroked his cock harder. He moved his fingers faster along the head and shaft. Roger’s cock was ready; it was about to explode. Then the goddamned bathroom door opened and a couple of assholes walked in, and Roger had to stop.
“How was your weekend, Todd?” It was Phil. Todd was the big boss, and Phil was his flunky.
“Not bad,” Todd answered. He unzipped his fly and started pissing. Phil did too. He did everything Todd did. “I didn’t do much. Some yard work. Watched the big game. I gave it to the wife a little, so she’d quit nagging me.” Todd and Phil laughed at this like a couple of little girls. “You?”
“About the same. I watched the big game too. I love football.”
“I do too. I live for Football.”
“Football is the best,” Phil added.
Todd coughed and flushed, and zipped his fly. Phil did too.
“So Todd what’s the whole deal with today, just so I know.”
“The deal is this,” Todd began. Roger watched them through a crack in the stall door. Todd stood before the bathroom mirror, looking at himself, and fixing his tie. He was a good-looking guy. Tall and blonde. A fucking Ken doll. The CEO loved Todd. “We have a meeting at one o’clock, after the whole team has gone to lunch. Skip will be there. So will our attorney and a psychiatric councilor, just in case anyone loses it. I’ll be the one to talk. I’ll tell the team that because of certain budgetary concerns we have to let half of them go.”
“Sounds simple,” Phil added.
“It’s not really. Letting people go is hard business, even if it’s ultimately good for the corporation. I don’t look forward to these things. But Skip trusts me, and I’d go to war for that man.”
“Me too,” Phil said. He sounded like a good little lap dog. Phil stepped into Roger’s view. He was an attractive guy, too: dark-haired and close cut with well-kept sideburns, and not a trace of stubble on his face. Roger often saw Phil with the redheaded secretary. They went to lunch sometimes, or he hung around her desk telling banal jokes. Roger hated Phil. He often daydreamed of strangling the prick. “So who’s getting the ax?”
Todd laughed. “Philly, now you know I can’t tell you that.”
“Come on, Todd. I won’t say. You can trust me. After all, we were frat brothers. Hell, you even got me this job. Now why would I go and jeopardize that?”
“I don’t know,” Todd continued.
“Come on.”
“Alright, you’ve broken me.” They laughed. Roger let go of his wilted cock, and listened in. “Williams is going. So is McCabe. Oh, and Darren Bachorski, the one who never goes to the corporate functions, he’s fucking gonzo too.”
“What about Charice Johnson?” Phil asked.
Todd laughed. “We can’t fire a woman, let alone a black one. The ACLU and the NAACP would be all over Skip’s ass. Nah, Charice gets to stay. We’re dumping off Roger Castleman instead.”
Phil laughed. “It’s about time. Christ how long has that fat fucker been with the company?”
“Seventeen years. According to Skip, seventeen long years. Roger is actually the one person I’m looking forward to getting rid of. He’s a blight on the company. He comes into work every day looking unwashed and unshaved, and most of the time he smells like a distillery. I hate the sight of him in my boardroom. I’ve had my eye on dumping Castleman ever since Skip gave me the job.” Todd laughed. “Remember when he was our boss? But the time has come, Phillyboy. Production is down and so is the stock. We have too many middle-management people cluttering up these halls. So Castleman is out the door. You can’t argue with the bottom line.”
“You sure can’t,” Phil said. Both of the goons laughed again, and continued to check themselves out in the mirror. “Christ, I’ve never sat in on a firing before.”
“A reorganization,” Todd said.
“Huh?”
“We’re calling the firings a reorganization. Skip hates the word fire. He says it’s too negative. I agree.”
“Oh okay,” Phil said. “Well I’ve never been in on a reorganization.”
Todd nodded.
“But money is the bottom line,” Phil continued. “That’s why we got into this business.”
“You said it, Philly. So anyway,” Todd continued, “after we have that meeting, Skip is taking me out for dinner and a few drinks. He thinks it’ll calm my nerves.”
“Skip is an all right kinda guy,” Phil said.
“Yeah, well he understands how tough it is to be in my shoes. Hey you wanna come? I’m sure Skip won’t mind. The dinner and the drinks are on the corporate expense account. Plus it might be good for you to meet the old man, you know, away from today.”
“Really?” Phil said. The asshole sounded excited. “Hey Todd, I’m glad you’re making those cuts. They’ll really help the company out. At least you’re not getting rid of that redhead.”
“Are you kidding me?” Todd asked. “Do you honestly think I’d unload my favorite piece of ass candy?”
They laughed.
“You kill me, Todd,” Phil said. “Maybe next weekend we can get together and watch the big game?”
“Sure,” Todd answered. “But it’s gotta be the later game. I have a church function in the morning.”
“I understand.”
They left the bathroom. Roger sat on the can until his legs got numb. Then he grabbed his cock and began messaging it again. He worked himself up. The redhead was leaning over the chair, and Roger was behind her, sweating, giving it to her hard. He stroked his cock. In no time the juices were flowing. Roger stuck a finger in the redhead’s rosy ass, and she moaned. She sucked on his fingers, and looked back and smiled. This time Roger would have her the whole way. This time he’d get his.