Seanday Off: Something Big

"Fuck this guy is hungry," Paul thought to himself, "I reckon I can get a good tip from this guy."

Paul was one of the escort agencies top men, easily earning over $2,000 a night. The agency had sent him a message telling him a young executive had asked for him specifically and doubled the fee if he could see him tonight. How could he refuse?

Paul arrived at the hotel, sure enough at the bar was a young executive immaculately presented in an expensive suit. Paul sat at the bar, and the guy leaned over. "You here to see me?" He asked.

Paul looked at the guy, he was probably no older than twenty-seven, his suit and shirt tailored to show off his muscular physique. Even his hair was perfectly crafted, and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yeah, I'm Paul Stealman. You called the agency," Paul replied.

"Perfect, my name is Jason," he replied studying Paul's build.

Paul followed Jason to the room, moments later Jason was naked, and Paul found himself admiring his body. Paul pulled his shirt and pants off, although in his mid thirties he was handsome and strong.

Jason walked over and looked up into Paul's eyes. "Big, strong, handsome, a perfect specimen," Jason whispered as he drew Paul into a deep kiss. Grasping Paul's neck Jason sat on the couch, Paul knelt at his feet.

Seanday Feast: Lone Wolf

I watched him take another picture, I checked my mobile and within seconds he'd posted it onto his Instagram. All his pictures were like this, he'd worked hard--that was obvious.

As I continued my cardio I watched as he plucked at the sleeves of his t-shirt, I had to admit he was prime beef.

He was older by a few years, but it didn't bother me. He was just what I was looking for, every gym has one. A guy, a big guy that keeps to himself, but is always there. Some might consider him part of the decor, approach him and he'll stare you down until you retreat--a lone wolf.

Caption This (2nd Sep)

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Retirement

Tom Brady and Bill Belichick were to meet in the coach’s office and then have lunch. Lunch with Belichick was always at some fancy restaurant so he had dressed in a suit his loving wife Gisele had picked out for the occasion. The 6’4” man was a handsome and imposing sight even out of his uniform.

“Please sit down, Tom.” Belichick began in a very serious tone. “Before we go to lunch I need to have a talk with you about your future with the team. Nothing to worry about. Coffee?” Coffee? How could he possibly think about coffee when they were talking about something so damn important to him?

Belichick continued. “You’re getting a little long in the tooth so we have to start making plans for your retirement. We need to make way for a younger quarterback to take your place so you can get away from the wear and tear of football.”

Essentially, he was being put out to pasture, his coach telling him that he was past his prime. The famous, or infamous depending on your view, quarterback knew at 40 years of age that he was getting old for a professional quarterback and that his time as the king of the Patriots would come to an end someday but why talk about retirement this soon, especially when he had just led his team to another Super Bowl victory and proved all the naysayers wrong? True, he didn’t play like he had when he first started out but he was still quite capable of winning football games and bringing home trophies. For sure Gisele would like him to retire. She was always nagging him about going out on top before he was seriously injured, but football was his life.

“I’m sure we can find a spot for you within the organization, a nice desk job. Something that doesn’t require you to be on the field playing.”

Tom’s temper got the better of him and he erupted. “Seriously? No way. I want to keep playing for as long as I can. Besides, who are you going to get to replace me? Garoppolo?”

“Sorry Tom. I was hoping you would cooperate with me.” Belichick rang a buzzer on his desk and an immaculately dressed man entered the room. Tom had no idea who he was but he must be quite wealthy, judging by his suit and the gold cufflinks, studded with diamonds that formed the letters ‘HC” in the center, that he was wearing. “You leave me no choice.”

The stranger raised his arm, the cufflinks emitting a brilliant white flash that blinded Tom’s eyes. Suddenly he found himself outside, his arm poised to launch a spiral. He was so surprised by the sudden change that he fumbled the pass, the ball missing the intended target.

Seanday Off: Lacrosse Master

I drifted into Mrs Olson's English Lit class. As I expected Taylor was slouched at his desk.

The cocky little shit was giving me zero respect all through lacrosse practice so I'd kept him back through lunch and worked him hard with additional plays and target practice finishing off with a couple of laps of the field. He must have got to class and just collapsed into his chair and fallen asleep.

For me it was already the end of the day, being a Friday I'd already locked up the gym and shut off the lights. From my office I'd locked the door and relaxed into my chair at the desk. Slowing my breathing I relaxed, and fell deeper into my own thoughts. Like many times before I gradually felt lighter as my soul lifted out of my physical body; although sleeping, it was empty of any guiding soul.

Seanday Shorts: Panda Eyes

I needed a change, something that demanded respect--without trying. I'd been inside Tommy for the past six months, a senior at college. A strong, although short football player. I'd used him to manipulate Casey, a heavy built machine of solid muscle, a good player but not very bright. I'd got to Tommy through Casey who I'd taken earlier that day. Casey was feared, and other students stayed clear of him—not something that would be useful to me. Tommy on the other hand, with his dark hair and expressive eyebrows was liked by many. Tommy didn't know what hit him when I used Casey's strength to pin him down and knock him out. With a grunt I discarded the muscle-jock's body and forced my way inside the smaller Tommy as a permanent change.

That was six months ago, I'd been working Casey--pushing him hard. I'd used his aggression to create a winning team, a dominant alpha in public but a submissive coward when we were alone in the dorm. He'd willingly accept me pushing inside him whenever I demanded it—said he'd do anything for his best bud Tommy, he didn't understand that the Tommy he knew didn't exist anymore. He'd strip, and I'd push into him and don his football shirt—he was never seen without out. I'd cruise the halls, throwing my weight around blond cheerleaders handing from my arms. The six months were fun, but that's another story.

Caption This (26th Aug)

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The Fashion Show

My friend Matt was a very handsome and extremely wealthy man. The two of us couldn’t have been more different if we had tried. I was hardly wealthy and far from being male model handsome as one could possibly get. Despite our 36-year age difference – he was 22 - we somehow managed to click when I met him at a trade show where he was the guest speaker.

He had hired me as his personal assistant shortly thereafter and introduced me to a very luxurious lifestyle that I had never known. He even had me living in his penthouse in one of the buildings he owned. He had money oozing from every pore it seemed, so much so that economies could crumble and he would still be uberwealthy. I’ve been with him about two years now and I had accompanied him on some of his wild adventures during our time. Sometimes I would join in on the activity if I was capable.

Our age difference didn’t bother him at all but he knew it did bother me, more so as my latest birthday was approaching. I could tell he was concerned as I became more and more withdrawn the closer the day came. It just wasn’t right for a young man such as him to be dragging a man old enough to be his father along on his treks, no matter how much we enjoyed each other’s company. I just wished I could be young enough to be more like a bro than a father. I grew insecure, no matter the number of times he protested that my age didn’t matter or how much he pampered me. He was happy and he wanted me to be as well.

Seanday Off: Switching Tracks

I adjusted my headphones and sunk back into the chair, some woman had tutted when I'd put my feet up on the chair opposite. But I knew that Terry; the teenager I'd swapped with just outside Manchester wouldn't care what she was thinking. I'd watched him leave in the muscle head I'd been using for the past two months wondering if his consciousness would ever surface enough to appreciate him.

Flipping through some songs on his iPhone, a message came through. It was from Steve, he was asking about the party tonight. I knew Terry was travelling to Stockport to meet up with some friends from college, more importantly he was meeting up with Sarah. I felt my new dick harden at the thought of nailing her with it. I'd already picked up some of Terry's mannerisms and found myself rubbing my hard on with a hand I'd stuffed down my shorts. I looked over at the woman who was watching me and smiled, and laughed as she blushed and looked away.

I tapped out a reply to Steve telling him I was going to fuck Sarah into next week; I got a smiley a couple of seconds later.

The music was heavy in my ears, and I watched the woman opposite riffle through her bag to get a ticket. I glanced over my shoulder, shit it was the guard. I didn't even bother to check for a ticket, I already knew that Terry had hopped onto the train without one. Shit!

Seanday Update: Another Twist

This is not at story, more of a bulletin. As once again, my reality has changed for the worst--possibly.

For those of you who follow me, you may remember I lost my father earlier this year. Although not unexpected, it left a huge hole in my life as I used to care for him.

Things began to attract momentum again, and I found my feet with a vague normality surfacing. But again, 2017 was going to shift throwing all the balls in the air again.

Last week I was given notice on my job (redundancy), and it looks like my job will be terminated at the end of September. Yay! I was told while I was on holiday, so I've yet to discover all the details.

So now, on to the news.

As you can imagine writing isn't at the top of my agenda at the moment, but I don't want to let you down. So I've scheduled a number of re-posts; some of my favourite stories over the coming weeks. I hope this will keep you amused, and that some of them you'll enjoy for the second time--or perhaps they'll be completely new to you, here's hoping.

Regards, Sean Mitchell.

Caption This (19th Aug)

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The Chase

I’m too damn old for this. I have no idea why I am chasing after some shadowy figure down streets I don’t know. I had spotted him when he had come around a corner near where I was standing. For some reason, I felt compelled to follow and then chase him, running as if my life depended on catching this guy. From the way he is running I would say he is a lot younger than I am as well as a lot taller and better built.

I go around another corner, only to see the guy standing with his back to me like he is waiting for me to catch up. He is not quite as shadowy as he was a few minutes ago. I can tell he is wearing a colored tee and jeans plus he is running barefoot. As I get closer he takes off, sprinting down a darkened alleyway. Why am I continuing to play cat-and-mouse with this dude when it is obviously hopeless that I will ever catch him?