Gay Corporate: Forbidden Infiltration 🔥

Shadows of Ecstasy: A Corporate Inferno

In the dim glow of a riverside warehouse, the air hung heavy with the tang of rust and river mud. Alex’s boots scraped against the cracked concrete as he pushed open the creaky metal door, his pulse racing from the wild night at Pulse nightclub. The place reeked of forgotten dreams—damp wood, faint echoes of diesel fuel, and something primal, like sweat-soaked leather. He’d followed this stranger here, drawn by eyes that promised ruin and rapture in equal measure.

Ryan turned, his silhouette cutting sharp against the flickering light from a single hanging bulb. Tall, with sun-kissed skin stretched over a lean, wiry frame, he wasn’t the bulky type Alex usually chased. No, Ryan moved like a shadow, all coiled energy and quiet menace. His dark hair fell in messy waves, and a scar traced his jawline, adding to the allure that had hooked Alex back at the club.

“You came,” Ryan said, voice low and gravelly, like tires crunching on gravel. He stepped closer, the scent of his cologne—spicy, with a hint of smoke—invading Alex’s space.

Alex swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Couldn’t stay away. What the hell is this place?”

Ryan smirked, closing the gap until their chests nearly brushed. “Our starting point. But first…” His hand shot out, fingers tangling in Alex’s shirt, yanking him forward. Their lips crashed together, rough and demanding, tasting of whiskey and desperation. Alex’s knees buckled as Ryan’s tongue invaded, hot and insistent, while rough palms slid under his tee, nails scraping skin.

The kiss broke with a gasp, and Ryan shoved Alex against a stack of old crates, the wood splintering slightly under the force. “Strip,” Ryan growled, eyes dark with hunger.

Alex’s hands trembled as he peeled off his clothes, the cool air raising goosebumps on his flushed skin. Ryan watched, unblinking, then shed his own layers—jeans pooling at his ankles, revealing a thick, veined cock already straining upward, the head glistening with pre-cum that caught the light like dew.

“On your knees,” Ryan commanded, and Alex dropped, the concrete biting into his skin. He leaned in, inhaling Ryan’s musky aroma, a heady mix of arousal and salt. His mouth watered as he engulfed the throbbing length, tongue swirling around the ridge, savoring the salty tang. Ryan’s fingers fisted in Alex’s hair, guiding him deeper, hips bucking with restrained force.

Groans echoed off the walls—wet slurps, heavy breaths, the distant lap of river water. Alex hollowed his cheeks, taking Ryan to the hilt, gagging slightly but pushing through, the burn in his throat fueling his own erection, hard and leaking against his thigh.

Ryan pulled out abruptly, strings of saliva connecting them. “Not yet.” He hauled Alex up, spinning him to face the crates. Rough hands spread his cheeks, a spit-slick finger probing his entrance. Alex moaned, pushing back, the intrusion stretching him deliciously.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Ryan muttered, adding a second finger, scissoring roughly. The burn morphed into fire, pleasure coiling low in Alex’s gut. Then Ryan’s cock replaced the fingers, breaching him in one brutal thrust. Alex cried out, the fullness overwhelming, every ridge dragging against his walls.

Ryan pounded relentlessly, skin slapping skin, the warehouse amplifying each grunt and whimper. Sweat dripped down Alex’s back, mixing with the grit. “Take it, you little slut,” Ryan hissed, one hand wrapping around Alex’s throat, the other stroking his dripping dick in time with the thrusts.

Alex shattered first, cum spurting onto the crates in hot ropes, his vision blurring. Ryan followed, burying deep and flooding him with pulse after pulse of thick seed, the warmth seeping out as he withdrew. They collapsed together, breaths ragged, bodies slick and spent.

That night marked the beginning—not just of their twisted partnership, but of Alex’s descent into a world of corporate shadows and forbidden fires. 🔥

Chapter 1: Whispers in the Shadows

Weeks blurred into a haze of stakeouts and stolen moments. The warehouse became our den, cluttered with maps of VIX Corp’s sprawling campus and grainy photos pinned to corkboards. VIX, the juggernaut behind BlazeMatch—the top gay hookup app—and EliteLink, the velvet-rope dating site with a million-deep waitlist—was set to IPO in days. Victor Hale, the founder, and his inner circle ruled it like kings, their empire built on user data and discreet indulgences.

Ryan paced, his bare feet silent on the cold floor. He’d changed since that first night—less guarded, but the fury in his eyes burned brighter. “They’re poison, Alex. Victor, Ethan, Lucas—they chew up guys like us and spit out the bones.”

I nodded, flipping through dossiers. Victor: silver fox in his late 50s, sharp suits hiding a predatory build. Ethan: the COO, early 60s, broad-shouldered with salt-and-pepper hair, the brains behind VIX’s gadget line—vibrating plugs synced to apps, smart cocks that learned your rhythms. Lucas: the wild card, mid-40s, lean and tattooed, handling the apps.

“How’d you get these?” I asked, tracing a photo of Ethan in a boardroom, pants around ankles, some intern on his knees.

Ryan’s jaw tightened. “I was that intern. They promised the world, then buried me in NDAs and payoffs. But I kept copies. We expose them—right as the stock hits the market. Ruin them.”

His motivation hit me like a gut punch. Ryan, with his tanned skin and haunted gaze, had been their plaything. It stirred something dark in me—jealousy mixed with lust. I stood, pulling him close. “Then let’s make them pay.”

Our mouths met, tongues battling as hands roamed. I shoved him onto the makeshift bed—old mattress on pallets—and straddled him, grinding my hardening cock against his. “Fuck me like you hate them,” I whispered, nipping his ear.

Ryan flipped us, pinning my wrists. “Oh, I do.” He slicked himself with lube from the side table, then drove in, raw and deep. The stretch burned, pleasure-pain exploding as he rutted like a beast, hips snapping, balls slapping my ass. I clawed his back, tasting salt on his neck, the warehouse air thick with our grunts and the metallic tang of exertion.

“Harder,” I begged, legs wrapping his waist. He obliged, angling to hit that spot, stars bursting behind my eyes. Cum leaked between us as I came untouched, clenching around him. Ryan roared, pumping me full, collapsing in a sweaty heap.

After, as we pored over plans, Ryan’s hand lingered on my thigh. “You’ll get the job at VIX. Seduce your way in. Get close to Ethan—he’s the key.”

The thought twisted in my gut. Ethan, with his commanding presence. But for Ryan, I’d do it.

Surveillance Heat

Our first real watch was from a van parked near VIX’s glass tower. Night fell, city lights twinkling like distant sins. Inside, the air was stale, fast food wrappers crunching underfoot.

“There,” Ryan pointed, binoculars trained on a penthouse window. Ethan emerged, shirtless, muscles rippling under tanned skin—wait, no, pale like marble. A younger man knelt before him, head bobbing eagerly.

Jealousy flared, but so did arousal. Ryan’s hand found my zipper. “Watch and learn.”

As Ethan’s hips bucked on the screen—magnified by our hacked feed—Ryan freed my cock, stroking slow. The slurps from the video mixed with my moans, the van rocking subtly. Ryan dropped low, mouth hot and wet, sucking with vacuum force while I watched Ethan unload down the guy’s throat.

I came fast, bitter seed spilling over Ryan’s tongue. He swallowed, grinning. “Your turn soon.”

That night fueled our fire, plotting turning to fucking on the van floor, bodies sliding in spilled lube and determination.

Jump to Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Infiltration’s Edge

The interview at VIX was a blur of polished marble lobbies and perfumed receptionists. I adjusted my tie, heart hammering. Ryan’s parting kiss lingered—fierce, promising more warehouse romps.

Ethan’s office overlooked the city, floor-to-ceiling windows framing the skyline. He sat behind a massive desk, exuding power in a tailored suit that hugged his sturdy frame. Gray streaked his hair, but his eyes—piercing blue—held a youth that belied his 62 years.

“Alex Rivera,” he said, voice smooth as aged bourbon. “Your resume’s impressive. Tell me why VIX?”

I leaned forward, channeling the confidence Ryan drilled into me. “Innovation. Your smart devices? Revolutionary. I want in on the next wave.”

He smiled, a predator’s glint. The interview stretched, questions probing deeper—personal, almost intimate. By the end, his hand brushed mine. “Welcome aboard. Junior analyst, reporting to me.”

First day, the office buzzed with pre-IPO energy. Colleagues whispered about stock surges, but I zeroed in on Ethan. Lunch in the executive cafeteria: he joined me, thigh pressing mine under the table.

“Settling in?” His breath was warm on my ear, cologne woody and expensive.

“Eager to impress,” I replied, foot teasing his calf.

That led to his private restroom—marble sinks, dim lights. Door locked, he pinned me against it, mouth claiming mine in a bruising kiss. Taste of coffee and mint, hands everywhere.

“Been watching you,” he growled, freeing his thick shaft—uncut, heavy in my palm. I stroked, thumb circling the slit, pre-cum slicking my fingers.

On my knees, the tile cool against skin, I worshipped him. Lips stretching around girth, tongue tracing veins, the salty burst as he face-fucked me. Gags echoed softly, his moans low to avoid detection.

He pulled out, spinning me. Pants down, he entered dry at first—pain lancing through—then slick with spit. Thrusts shallow, building to frenzy, my cock trapped against the sink, leaking.

“Tight little ass,” he grunted, spanking hard, the sting blooming heat. I bit my lip to stifle cries, tasting blood. Orgasm hit like lightning, cum splattering porcelain. Ethan followed, hot jets filling me, dripping down thighs as he zipped up.

“Good boy. See you at five.”

Back at the warehouse, I confessed to Ryan, guilt twisting with thrill. He didn’t rage—instead, he fucked me senseless, reclaiming every inch, bites marking my neck. “Use him,” Ryan panted, pounding deep. “For us.” 💋

Hidden Alliances

Days in, I hacked files during late nights, feeding intel to Ryan via burner phone. But Ethan drew me in—dinners at upscale spots, his laugh genuine, stories of VIX’s rise from Victor’s garage startup.

One evening, in his sleek condo—leather scents, jazz humming—he proposed a partnership beyond work. “Move in. Be mine.”

Kneeling naked before him, ring in hand—platinum with embedded emeralds—I hesitated. Ryan’s face flashed. But Ethan’s cock, hard and waiting, tempted.

“Yes,” I whispered, sealing it with my mouth, the metallic tang of the ring forgotten in the heat.

Jump to Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Tangled Desires

The antique shop in the old quarter smelled of aged wood and beeswax polish. Ethan and I wandered aisles of curios, his arm around my waist possessive. IPO eve, tension simmered—analysts buzzed about VIX shattering records, Victor’s vision twenty years strong.

“Something simple,” Ethan said, fingering a display case. The shopkeeper, a burly man named Rocco with a shaved head and tattooed arms, beamed.

“For what occasion, gents?” Rocco’s voice boomed, eyes twinkling.

We exchanged glances, Ethan’s hand squeezing mine. “Engagement.”

Rocco clapped, pulling out a velvet box. Inside, a band of white gold, inlaid with rare azure stones— “Sapphira gems,” he explained. “Purest blue, like ocean depths. Only a handful exist. Made for true passion.”

Ethan slipped it on my finger, the cool metal warming instantly. Our kiss was soft at first, then hungry, Rocco chuckling. “Love like that? It’ll burn bright.”

Flashback hit as we left—back to the warehouse, Ryan’s plan unfolding. I’d infiltrated, gathered dirt: Victor railing interns in conference rooms, Lucas in orgies at company retreats, Ethan… well, me.

But feelings complicated it. Ryan’s texts grew urgent: “Leak tomorrow. End them.”

That night, in Ethan’s bed—silk sheets, city hum outside—we tangled. His mouth on my chest, sucking nipples to peaks, hands kneading ass. “Mine,” he murmured, flipping me onto stomach.

Lube cold, then hot as he prepped me, fingers curling inside. I arched, moaning into pillows scented with his aftershave. His cock followed, thick and unyielding, stretching to the limit.

“Fuck, so good,” I gasped, pushing back. He gripped hips, bruising, thrusts deep and deliberate, prostate hammered relentlessly. Sweat slicked us, skin sliding, the slap of flesh rhythmic.

Dialogue crude: “Pound that hole, Ethan. Fill me up.” He did, growling obscenities, cum erupting in waves, mine milking the sheets.

Post-coital, ring glinting, doubt crept. Ryan waited in the shadows.

Double Cross Flames

A new twist: I met Lucas at a VIX mixer—dim club, bass thumping. Tall, inked arms, he cornered me in a booth. “Heard you’re Ethan’s new toy. Want to play?”

Against the wall, his mouth devoured mine, hands rough. Cock out—pierced, the barbell cool against my palm. He bent me over, entering fast, the metal adding friction that sparked fireworks.

“Scream for me,” Lucas demanded, tugging hair. I did, voice hoarse, tasting his sweat as he bit shoulder. Dual penetration fantasy hit—imagining Ryan watching—but reality was his relentless drive, cum hot inside.

Intel gained: Lucas’s files on Victor. But betrayal loomed.

Jump to Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Betrayal’s Blaze

IPO morning dawned chaotic—suits rushing, screens flashing projections. VIX stock poised to explode, Victor’s speech hyping the crowd.

I slipped into Ethan’s office, heart pounding. Ryan’s leak was set—anonymous drop to media, photos and vids of the trio’s excesses.

Ethan found me, pulling me into his lap. “After this, we celebrate. You and me.”

His kiss melted resolve, hands unbuttoning my shirt. On the desk, papers scattering, he ate me out—tongue delving, lapping rim with fervor. I writhed, fingers in his hair, the scent of arousal thick.

“Ethan… wait,” I panted, but he mounted me, sliding home. The fuck was tender at first, then feral—desk shaking, my legs over shoulders, deep angles hitting ecstasy.

“Love you,” he confessed mid-thrust, eyes locked. Cum synced, bodies shuddering.

But as sirens wailed—media frenzy outside—guilt crashed. Ryan’s call: “It’s done. They’re fucked.”

I fled to the warehouse, Ryan waiting, triumphant. “We won.”

Celebration turned carnal: Him bending me over the table, photos scattering. “You did good,” he praised, cock slamming in, reclaiming with bites and bruises. Orgasms chained, sweat and tears mixing.

Yet, as VIX crumbled—stocks plummeting, arrests looming—I realized the cost. Ethan, innocent in love, destroyed.

Unexpected Threesome

New scene: Ryan and I tailed Victor to a seedy motel. Peering through blinds, we watched him with two twinks—double penetration, moans muffled.

Aroused, Ryan dragged me to our car. “Join the fantasy.” He fucked me on the hood, stars above, Victor’s grunts syncing our rhythm. Cold metal under back, Ryan’s heat inside—climax explosive, seed painting night air. 🔥

Jump to Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Ashes of Passion

VIX’s fall was swift—headlines screaming scandal, Victor denying, Ethan resigning in disgrace. I vanished with Ryan, holing up in a cabin by the woods, air pine-fresh, isolation healing wounds.

But Ethan tracked us. One stormy night, knock echoed. Soaked, eyes broken. “Why?”

Ryan tensed, but I pulled Ethan in. Words tumbled—truth of Ryan’s past, my infiltration, the love that bloomed real.

Forgiveness? No. But lust ignited. Three of us, clothes shedding by firelight. Ryan and Ethan, rivals turned allies, sandwiching me—Ryan in front, Ethan behind. Cocks rubbing, stretching impossibly.

“Take us both,” Ryan urged, slick and slow. Pain bloomed to bliss, bodies undulating, grunts harmonizing with rain. Hands everywhere—stroking, pinching, the taste of salt and storm on lips.

Dialogue raw: “Fuck, you’re splitting me,” I groaned. “Good slut,” Ethan replied, thrusting. Ryan: “Ours now.”

Climaxes cascaded—cum filling, spilling, marking territory. In afterglow, tangled limbs, we forged a new pact. VIX gone, but our empire? Built on desire’s ruins.

Months later, in a quiet town, antique ring still on—now shared secrets. Pleasure’s shadows lingered, but light broke through. 💋

Final Reckoning

Last new scene: Confronting Lucas in a dive bar. He knew, pulled me into back alley. “Traitor.” But instead of fight, he kissed—desperate, pinning to brick.

Pants down, he took me rough, anger fueling thrusts, the alley reeking of garbage and sex. “Hate you,” he panted, but came hard, leaving me leaking and alive.

Back to the cabin, Ryan and Ethan waiting. Another round—gentle this time, senses overwhelmed: crackle of fire, taste of whiskey, touch of skin, scent of musk, sight of intertwined bodies.

In the end, ecstasy’s inferno consumed taboos, leaving only raw connection.

Back to Chapter 1