Just Let Me Lead
* S- 25
* Marcos - 26
*For anyone who has read my other story “Becoming An Obedient Submissive,” these character names may sound familiar. This a new world in an entirely new universe, but I’m keeping the character names. I have devoted too much time into some of the characters in that story and I want to bring them into this new story. I also wanted to let people know that this story will be a bit slower. I want to build things up, and form a story. The best description for this would probably be “Porn With Plot.” I hope you all enjoy.*
Chapter 1
If you had asked me four years ago if I saw myself here. I would have laughed at you. Four years ago you would have likely found me on my knees most days, the cock of a college jock halfway down my throat. My first two years of college were spent, well, enjoying myself. Then came the call. My parents, my only living relatives I had ever known. Were gone. Dead in an accident that suddenly left me alone. My life, in the matter of minutes was upended. I dropped out of college the next week. A month after that, I found myself alone in a big old house. A house I had grow to hate as soon as I was back inside of it.
Then, something unexpected happened. My parents lawyer who was in charge of their estate let me know about one property my parents had owned that was being passed along to me. An adjoined storefront and loft apartment (the latter atop the former) in San Francisco. It was apparently a store that my great grandmother had owned that my grandparents and then my parents had kept in their possession but never did anything with. He explained that it had been the dying wish of my great grandmother that the store never be sold and my family at great cost had followed her wish. It had been rented out to a number of people over the years but had been empty for the last five.
I remembered staring at him in shock. The news felt like destiny was calling. I hated this house. I didn’t want to live in the quiet empty remains of my life, a reminder of what was lost. Over the course of the next few weeks I took some radical steps. My home was sold and I decided to take the bold step of moving into that loft and turning that store into my own business. Ever since I was little I had dreamed of own my own gardening/flower store. I had heard the stories of my great grandmothers business, but had no idea the literally building where she ran that business was still in the family.
Everything felt like this is what I was meant to do. I’d pick up the family torch and make something amazing. Boy how fucking wrong I was.
Four years laters I found myself not the owner of a successful garden/flower store in the city. But instead the exhausted (and lonely) owner of severely struggling garden/flower shop. I moved to the city and poured much of what I inherited into it. And then, as of like an evil twisted god of irony was personally fucking with me, the entire world plunged into a pandemic. My business, within a few weeks was closed. Not to reopen for two or so years. When it reopened it found a much quieter San Francisco. Efforts to grow the business and/or just make a profit came up empty as the city struggled to recover.
On an equally brutal note, I found myself desperately and frustratingly single. Imagine being a 20 year old gay guy and learning that you have the opportunity to live in and own a business in the city of San Francisco. The proverbial gay Mecca where you can stretch your slutty wings and fly. Only for that same God of Irony to kick you right in the dick. The same month my business had to close, so did well, my legs. And also my mouth. I was in the heart of the Gay empire and I found myself unable to enjoy it. When things opened back up, I was so consumed by running my business and keeping it alive that my hand and a few sex toys became my only companions. I ran the shop by myself 7 days a week, who had time for flings and/or fun when you barely have time to sleep.
And that is how I ended up here. Today, like every day I was opening up my shop for the day. I was running around and tidying things up, setting out new displays, playing some music, when he appeared. Like he did every day, at the exact same time. You see, Right next door to my shop was a cute little coffee shop and every day, at around 8 am a man (just a little older than me if I had to guess), got his coffee and a scone and ate at one of the tables in front of my store. He clearly thought they were part of the coffee shop and, well, never bothered to correct him. Him sitting in that chair gave me the perfect view of him. He was tall, a few inches taller than myself and I was always confident in my height. While
I was thinner and small, he had modesty defined muscles that pressed against his casual dress clothes. He had a small mustache and beard but it was kept very trimmed and well kept, mostly just defining his features rather than hiding them. He had gorgeous brown eyes that creased at the edges whenever he smiled or laughed. Part of me was convinced I had only kept this business running so I could continue to see him.
“Fuck he’s so cute,” I muttered to myself as I filled up the watering can to go outside and water some of the displays I had set up outside only a half hour earlier. (Had I already watered them, yes, but I wanted to catch a closer look of the man I ogled every morning). I stepped outside and began watering, quietly humming to myself as the music from inside my store continued playing. I tried not to be too obvious but snuck a glance at him every chance I could. I had a pretty good track record of not being caught. Sometimes I played it off as me stretching or popping my back or checking some of the planters that were behind him. Sometimes he would catch me and I would just try and play it off (and prayed that my blush was not too noticeable).
Today, I thought would be like other times I snuck a little looksee at him but apparently my luck had run out. The first glance over to him and I met his eyes immediately. He had a small smirk crossing his lips when he noticed he caught me. I felt a blush cross my face and quietly turned back to my work. When I turned to water the planters closer to him, I could feel his eyes bearing down on me. I quickly finished my work and scurried back inside. I ran behind the counter and slid down to the floor behind it. I felt like crying. Could I have nothing nice. All I wanted was this one thing. This cute guy to look at every day making my whole exhausted day worth it. This singular opportunity was what got me out of bed every day and made owning this business feel worth it. And now, I don’t think I will ever try and sneak a look again. I held my head in my hands when I heard a voice call out in the store.
“Hello? Does anyone work here?” I jumped to my feet and turn to see the guy I had spent the better part of year undressing with my eyes. I felt like panicking and sprinting up the stairs that were just around the corner and hiding away in my loft. But I didn’t. I mustered up my best poker face and in my most professional business voice answered him.
“Yes, sorry, I was just grabbing something from under the counter.”
“Why of course,” he chuckled stepping forward to lean against the old wooden counter. He had a look on his face I couldn’t quite read.
“Was that amusement?” I thought to myself. What the hell was he amused for?
“Can I help you with something?” I asked bluntly, too nervous to try and be more cordial with my words.
“Yes you can actually. I was wondering why you never bothered to tell me that those tables I have sat for months now are yours? Just last week one of the baristas let me know that those tables didn’t belong to them and I wanted to see if you’d say anything but you never did.” I stared at him, trying to size up what was happening. His words didn’t feel pointed or angry, he had a sly little grin on his face.
“He’s enjoying this…” I thought. “He’s playing a game with me.”
“Oh it’s no worries at all sir. I put those tables out there as a marketing tactic. I was hoping if people sat down and ate their food or drank their coffee right outside they also would stop and see what they could get here.” His smile remained as I spoke, but I felt like his eyes were no longer looking into mine but like they were picking me apart, analyzing me. On some level it looked like he was stripping me down with his eyes, trying to reveal what was under the surface. Maybe literally, maybe metaphorically, honestly I couldn’t tell,
“And how has that worked for ya?” He chuckled. I sighed in defeat, reminding me of yet another example of how I was utterly failing at running this business.
“Not great… it’s just given all the business around me more space for their customers. Very few come in.” Part of me felt like crying. This was humiliating. Had he come inside just to tear me down? Was this revenge for ogling him, clearly he knew I did that.
“How about I help you with that?” I glanced up in shock and saw he was holding out his card. I was frozen in shock.
“Wh-what?”
“Let me help you turn your business around.”
“But why?” I asked. He just chuckled and reached forward to slip his card in between my pink denim overalls and my tight t shirt.
“Because I think the store is cute, and,” he leaned in closer, motioning for me to come closer to hear the rest. I felt his breath on my ear as he finished his words. “And I think the owner is even cuter. And if you go out of business when am I going to get to undress him with my eyes before I go to my shitty marketing job.”
A small gasp of surprise fell from my lips. I pulled back and stared at him in surprise. The way he spoke to me made me feel warm deep inside of my body. My heart rate quickened and I felt my dick twitch at the idea of him stripping me down in his mind. He clearly saw how viscerally I was reacting to his words and used his hand to brush against the strap of my overalls and straighten it. He sat up, still smirking at my incredulous expression and made his way to the door. When reached it he turned back to glance at me.
“I better get a call from you, I’ll be very disappointed if I don’t.” He gave me a final wink and then disappeared out the door. As I watched him walk off into the distance I practically fell into my chair, clutching the business card close to my chest. I glanced at it and saw the name, Marcos Ruano, according to this he was a member of the Marketing Team at a major retail chain whose headquarters was downtown.
“ Why would he want to help me?! His regular job probably paid 100x times better than anything I could ever him?” I thought incredulously. I looked down at the number plastered on it and felt my pulse race again. I brushed my hand against the collar he had straightened out. I felt a blush spread across my entire body and heat pool deep in my stomach as I imagined him doing more than just undressing me with his eyes. I covered my face with one of my hands in embarrassment, trying to swat away the thoughts. I shoved the card into my pocket and tried to focus on my work, silently thanking god that i decided to wear overalls today. They hid my growing erection with ease as i tried to stay focused on my tasks for the day.
It was more difficult than I had originally imagined to not get distracted. Every twenty minutes or so, like a comet that comes at the same time very few years, a thought shot through my mind that made me blush. Things I could do with him, things I wanted to do with him, things he would make me do. All in graphic detail of course. I was watering some azaleas when that last thought crashed into my mind and I felt a small moan trickle from my lips. My whole body shuddered with anticipation and I glanced down to see that the erection I thought I was doing a masterful job of hiding was determined to be seen. I quickly tossed the watering can on the ground, locked the door and flipped the sign to “back in 15 minutes” and ran to the small office that was behind the counter. I slammed the door shut and leaned against it breathing heavily. I unhooked the overalls I was wearing and felt the top half slide down my body until it rested on my hips. I slowly slipped a hand beneath the waist band, what a terrible day not to wear underwear I thought I myself, and moaned when my fingers wrapped around my cock. I quickly threw a hand over my mouth in order the stifle the sounds I was making.
This wasn’t a slow and methodical jerk off session. This was messy, and filthy, and hungry. I had limited time and then I needed to focus on my business. These thoughts that were bombarding me were getting in the way of that. For now though… I let those thoughts roll in. It has been so long since I had done anything with anyone else. At least a couple of years. All I had to occupy my appetite were stories and porn and slowly over time I had grown quite curious to try out a number of things. A number of… let’s say kinkier things.
One particularly scenario was at the top of my list and I had imagined a hundred times. And now with Marcos consuming my thoughts, he was thrust into the scenario to take the role of the other person. I imagined Marcos standing over me caressing my face. He leans in and whispers “good boy” in my ear before holding up a mirror to show me myself. What I would see is a pleated pink skirt around my waist and a tight pink crop top covering my chest. All that was there to cover my legs, midsection and arms were fishnets that did little to hide my skin and merely put it further on display. Around my neck was a bright pink collar with a little silver tag that proudly stated I was the property of Marcos. I would blush and try to hide myself but then he would grab my hands and prevent me from doing so. If I resisted too much I always imagined him cuffing my hands behind my back and made me stare at myself, unable to hide what I looked like. I let out a particularly loud moan at that thought and felt my teeth sink into my hand as I stroked faster and faster.
Once I was restrained Marcos would circle me, running his fingertips along various edges and surfaces of my body. Each touch sending sparks deep into my core. He would finally stop in front of me and run a hand down my chest across my stomach before resting right above the waist band of the skirt. He would run his fingers across the surface until he caught the lip of the skirt with his index finger.
“Let’s see if you wore the entire ensemble.” My face would flush as he flipped up the front of the fabric to reveal the final piece of the outfit. My cock trapped inside a small pink cock cage. It strained to be free and leaked precum through the slit at tip. He would run hand along the cage and dance his fingers across my balls. I sped up my hand as I imagined him teasing me and playing with me as I stood there helpless (and completely unwilling because I was actually in a state of pure bliss) to stop him.
“Oh you did, such a good boy for your master. You look so sexy all dressed up for me. One day I’m going to convince you to spend a whole day running the store dressed like this.” He would kiss my neck hungrily, sending shivers up my spine. I would feel his hard cock pressing against my thigh through his work clothes and would try and rut against it, desperate to touch it or feel it. He would just chuckle against my neck and deride me for my desperation.
My body spasmed as my pace quickened and I felt the end of my little escapade coming quickly. The scenario shifted from my mind as I felt release coming faster and faster. I released the hand at my mouth to try and catch my cum and prevent a mess on the carpet. I let out a loud moan and felt my whole body seize as I came into my hand. Shot after shot until finally I was finished. I held up my sticky hand, covered in my own cum and just looked at it, half grossed out and half consumed by the lust that was slipping away. One final piece of the scenario I had imagined and refined over the last couple of years consumed my brain. I imagined Marcos holding up his hand and ordering me to clean up the mess I made. I ran my tongue along my fingers and palm cleaning up my release. It was salty and a bit sweet, but all I could imagine was pleasing him by following his command.
When I was done I quickly tried to redo the clasps of my overalls and tuck myself away. I felt my whole face go red as I processed what just happened. I slid to the floor, covering my face with my hands. I could feel the saliva on one hand smear against my face but I didn’t care. All I could thing about was how mortified I was. The first time I had imagined that scenario was after I saw a gay web artists work online. They had drawn one of the characters they had made, whose body type was relatively similar to mine, in an outfit like the one I had imagined myself in. They looked so happy and so sexy. I couldn’t stop looking at the image after I saw that. I thought I was admiring the look and the fact that they were fit and beautiful. But quickly it became clear, I wanted to look like that. I wanted someone to look at me the way I looked at it when I saw it.
From there, the imagined outfit became a scenario and slowly as I consumed more erotica online and watched more porn, (what else was I going to do when I finished work so exhausted that the idea of doing something with another human being made me want to keel over) more and more pieces got added to what I was envisioning in my head. I discovered new kinks, new things I wanted to try, new things I wanted to do. Oh there was so much I had imagined over these last few years. Some were easier to get into and I knew I would like immediately. Wearing a skirt for example, it made me feel sexy in such a unique way that it was hard to describe. I had a similar feeling when i discovered some erotic comics online with characters wearing collars with their owners name on it. The idea of wearing a collar and being controlled by someone in such a way, made my whole body tingle with pleasure. Others it took me a while to warm up to but once I let my mind wander a little it’s all that I could think about. The cock cage was an example of that. I had seen it in a few videos I had watched and was at first repulsed. I didn’t like the idea, then I listened to someone online talk about it and I immediately couldn’t stop thinking about it. They described how it would make you constantly feel on edge and how over the course of several days the need to cum would consume your brain. You’d become desperate and horny and do anything to get to do that. You’d submit to someone entirely in hopes they would help you cum or set you free so you could feel your dick hard again. Or… perhaps more tantalizing, they would never release you. They’d condition you to only care about their pleasure. They’d convince you to forget about your own pleasure or your dick ever being hard again. Slowly you’d believe it and not want to be free. Some even described how you’d learn to only know how to come when your ass was being pounded and your trapped cock pitifully released its load.
I felt my face grow red again as I realized what I was thinking about. I liked it, but could help but be embarassed and a little ashamed of how graphic my thoughts were and how desperately I wanted them all to become reality. And Yet there was my problem. Years of being a workaholic had meant I had spent years fantasizing and dreaming about what I wanted to do but never had the time, energy, or frankly even the courage to do. Between anxiety about my business, the hours I had to work by myself, and the social toll my job took on me, I had little stamina to do it on my own. The energy it required to go out and take the leap to even just get some of the things I wanted wasn’t there. All I had most days was my imagination (and one skirt I did order online and wear numerous times when pleasuring myself.)
I sighed and leaned my head back against the hardwood of the door. This business has become my life. My home was above it. So much of the money I had inherited after the tragedy in my life had gone into it. Hell this storefront and loft were a family inheritance that had been preserved for decades. If I failed, it was all pointless. I felt a duty to follow it through and succeed but I could help but think about the cost it would require. I had no social life. I had no love life. The more I thought about it as I sat on the floor, the more I realized how terribly lonely I was.
I placed hand against one of my pockets and felt the business card underneath. I felt a small smile cross my lips. That was the first time in years that someone had flirted with me. Or, well, it was the first time someone had flirted with me and it was a welcome experience. A few girls tried that I had to let down easy by informing them of which way I swung. A few older gay men also frequented my gardening store, some of who made a pass on me and I had to politely turn them down. I preferred dating in my own age range and they were very understanding when I turned them down. Most of them still came to the store which made me happy, I was worried I had offended them, but they seemed fine and were still as cordial and polite as ever. Marcos was the first person though who had flirted with me and I wanted to flirt back. The first person who I wanted to throw hints at that I liked him. I hadn’t realized until now how just seeing him every day made me feel better. It gave me something other than my work to think about.
I pulled the card out and added him to my contacts. I took a single deep breath and typed out a message.
“Hi!” And clicked send. Then I immediately realized that would tell him nothing. I furiously typed up another message.
“This is S.” Dammit… he never learned my name.
“I own the gardening store. We, um, we talked this morning and you gave me your card. I was texting you back like you asked.” I clicked sent and slammed my head back against the door in embarrassment. What a way to start that off.
I sighed and slowly rose to my feet, prepared to go wash my hands and get back to work. I quietly cursed myself as I washed my hands at a sink behind the counter and opened the store up again. The next couple of hours were relatively quiet. A few customers came through, the shops next door began to close up as the afternoon came. I was one of the stores who stayed open until dinner time. Usually the store caught the eye of tourists looking for food or locals who were coming home from work. The entire time I fiddled about, helping people and keeping things running, my phone felt heavy in my pocket. I couldn’t stop thinking about him sending me a response. I avoided looking too much because I knew that would slowly drive me insane. As I locked the door my phone began to ring in my pocket. My breath caught in my chest and I quickly pulled out my phone, it was him. I answered before the first ring could even finish.
“Hello!” I cursed myself, I sounded way too eager.
“Well hi there S, is that your real name?” I blushed again, fuck my face had probably been red all of today. He sounded so smooth and confident that it made me melt a little hearing him say my name.
“Uh yes, well, sort of. It was a mixup when I was a kid on some legal paperwork so I legally am just S and have always used that. My family…” I paused for a second, “they intended for a different name but nothing stuck. So yeah I’m just S.” He chuckled before responding.
“Well it’s nice to learn your name. You have been ogling me for, what, a year now?”
I groaned to myself. “I’m sorry. I…. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I did.”
“No, no, no, I liked it. My last year has been shit. It was nice to have something to look forward to every day. I could do worse than a cute boy sneaking glances from the gardening store next to my favorite cafe.”
He liked that I did that… I felt my heart pounding out of my chest as I mulled that over.
“Oh, oh good. As long as I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” I sort of trailed off at the end not sure of where I wanted to go with my sentence.
“Oh not in the slightest. Brightened my day if anything.”
Mine too, I thought quietly to myself. Scared to say it to him.
“I was wondering if I could come by this evening. I am leaving my job soon and I wanted to talk with you about your business.” I was somewhat surprised by the shift in topic.
“Wait, you actually want to help me with my store?” I felt a little deflated, worried that this was what he actually wanted to talk about.
“Yes of course! I… I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t want you to go under.” A silence hung in the air after he said that. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“I also wasn’t kidding about the thing I said after that…” he said quieter, his voice barely a whisper, like he didn’t want others around him to hear him. My breath caught again as I remembered what he said about why he didn’t want my business to fail. So he can undress the owner (ME) with his eyes every morning before work.
“Oh, um, ah. Sorry.” I tried to stammer out a response but nothing formed. He laughed to himself as I struggled over my words.
“You are very cute.” He said softly. I practically had to hide my face in my hands as he said that. I barely knew how to process that statement.
“Thank you.” I said, my voice barely audible. “You are too. Well. Actually. I don’t know if cute is the word I would use.”
“Oh yeah what would you use.”
I practically yelped when he said that. He just chuckled in response.
“I won’t make you answer that. Not yet at least.” I felt warmth grow in my stomach with those last words. They felt firmer than his previous sentences. That didn’t feel like flirting. That felt like a promise.
“I’m done in an hour, how does 7 sound? We can get some food and we can talk about your store. I have some ideas and I want to help you. I um, I will admit I have watched you just as much as you have watched me for the last year. I see how exhausted you are and how you look more and more exhausted each day. I want to see what I can do to help ease thing. I went to school for business and marketing after all. I’m sure I know a thing or to that can help.” I felt dizzy. Our conversation fluctuated so rapidly between tones, but at its core… he wanted to help me. He had watched me and seen how worn down I was. I felt tears well up in my eyes and I found to not let out a sob.
“S? Are you ok?” I muted the iPhone for a second and took a second to steady my voice.
“Yes. Sorry. Yes I’m ok. That was just… that was really nice to hear. I’d love your help Marcos.” I had no proof but I felt like as soon as I said his name he smiled.
“Wonderful, I have to finish up some stuff and then I’ll be by. I’ll call when I get close! See you soon.”
“See you soon…” I said softly. He chuckled again and I heard the click of the line going dead. As soon as it did I felt a wave of emotions hit me. The only work I could muster in my brain though was a short and simple. HOLY FUCK
