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“That’s it, baby…that’s it…cum for me, baby.” Eddie Snowjob wiped the sweat off his forehead and glanced nervously around the office. Still no one else in the building. It would be at least another hour before the other FDA workers and contractors began filing in. He’d specifically chosen six in the morning on a Monday to make his move, because it seemed less suspicious than doing the deed in the middle of the night. He turned his attention back to the progress bar, watching its slow crawl across his screen. “C’mon, baby,” he muttered under his breath, though he knew that no amount of sweet talk would make the data transfer any faster: an aging laptop transferring files to a thumb drive over an outdated USB 1.0 protocol would finish when it drat well wanted to. But he had little choice. If he left the drive unattended and was found out by a passing coworker, all his months of planning would be for naught. He opened his browser to surf the net and kill the time, temporarily covering the transfer progress bar. “I never figured you for an early riser.” His eyes darted from the screen to the petite woman hanging on the edge of his cubicle partition. “Glinda,” Snowjob said. “I thought I’d get an early jump on the week. Lot of work.” “It’s like the post office,” Glinda said. “You can’t get a break, because people keep sending mail. Look at the bright side, though: as long as people keep making phone calls and sending e-mails, we’ll always have a job.” “That’s reassuring,” Snowjob said. There was an awkward pause in their conversation. Snowjob smiled, trying to put an end to his coworker’s inquiries without appearing too out of the ordinary, as the file transfer continued to lurch on the laptop. “Why are you smiling like that?” Glinda asked. “Like what?” “Like you’re trying to get rid of me.” Snowjob gulped loudly. “That’s absurd.” “You didn’t come in early to work,” Glinda said, peering at his open laptop. “You came in early to play around with GISM.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Snowjob said. “Oh, please,” Glinda said. “GISM stores a record of every food and drug ever ingested by Americans. You feel powerful when you fire it up and just browse through people’s personal lives — and power is the greatest aphrodisiac known to man. Admit it: you were planning to take the six AM to Spanktown.” “You think I was…masturbating? To Americans’ private information? That violates just about every ethical guideline imaginable.” He paused. “Of course that’s what I was doing.” Now it was Glinda’s turn to smile. “I knew you were into some freaky poo poo, Snowjob. Behind those cute little glasses and hazel eyes, I knew there was a dark side to you.” “Yep, you’ve found me out,” he said. “But you don’t need to jack off, you know,” Glinda said. “At least not by yourself. That’s what the ten AM meetings are for. A great big FDA circle jerk. We draw the shades, project a real-time map of Americans’ private eating habits up on the screen, drop our pants, and start jerking off. We hadn’t invited you because we didn’t know if you could be trusted.” “I can’t wait,” Snowjob said. I can’t wait to get the hell out of this madhouse. “Why wait?” Glinda said, entering Snowjob’s cubicle and standing between his spread legs. “Um,” was all Snowjob could say. Glinda bent down, running his hands over his chest. She rested on her knees between his spread legs. “What are you doing?” he asked. “What does it look like I’m doing?” Glinda said, staring up at him with big green eyes as she snapped the button on his jeans. “What if someone sees us?” Glinda laughed. “You work for a government agency, and you’re worried about someone watching? Someone is always watching.” “No, I mean, what if someone catches us. Shouldn’t we go somewhere…private?” “Privacy is an illusion,” she said. “Besides, I’m the first one in the office at seven every morning. Trust me when I say that no one arrives until quarter til eight.” Glinda winked at him and began unzipping him slowly. They had at least an hour to themselves, apparently. As her fingers brushed against his cock, Snowjob felt himself get hard in spite of his misgivings. His hardon begged to be let loose. What choice did he have? If he rebuffed Glinda’s advances, there was a chance she could turn his attention back to the laptop on the desk — and the thumb drive sticking out the side. Also, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. What better way to pass the time than with getting his whistle blown? “Let me help you out,” Snowjob said, wriggling out of his jeans just enough to give Glinda better access to his burgeoning manhood. Glinda toyed with his cock through his briefs. “I see someone’s an early riser after all.” “I guess so,” he said, lifting his rear end off the chair and letting Glinda peel his briefs down. His erection sprang free like a labrador puppy let off its leash in a dog park. As his coworker took him inside her mouth, Snowjob leaned back. A wave of relaxation overcame him as he thought about finally blowing the whistle on the FDA’s massive GISM surveillance program. Once Americans saw that everything they put in their mouths was being tracked, things would change. He was sure of it. They would have to, because now he was literally putting his dick on the line for the country he so dearly loved. Surely his girlfriend would understand.
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Oct 14, 2014 10:49
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| # ? May 18, 2024 02:58 |
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unbelievable op
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Oct 14, 2014 10:57
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I came
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Oct 14, 2014 11:09
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go on
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Oct 14, 2014 11:21
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Oct 14, 2014 11:47
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CHAPTER 2 For some reason, his girlfriend did not understand. Was it his unique brand of patriotism, Snowjob wondered? Or was she pissed about the whole blowjob thing? Either way, it wouldn't affect his plans. He had the USB drive in his pocket and a month's supply of gray oxfords in his suitcase. It was time to flee the United States for a less repressive regime. Next stop: The People's Republic of China.
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Oct 14, 2014 13:01
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first post
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Oct 14, 2014 14:24
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CHAPTER 3 While packing his bags, he’d seen two missed calls show up on his phone, both with Maryland area codes. One voicemail. Possibly Glinda, wondering where the hell he’d gone off to. He’d told her he was going to the men’s room to freshen his balls up after their little tryst, and slipped out the front door with the thumb drive in his pocket. One of the calls might have been from his boss. In the car outside the FDA headquarters, he’d called in to his boss’s desk phone and left a voicemail that he was sick with the flu and wouldn’t be in the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of the week, if it turned out to be avian flu. How long would it be before his coworkers and boss started to piece together the puzzle? How long before they became suspicious of him? He dropped his phone in the toilet to kill it, then unzipped his fly and started peeing on it for good measure. That’s when it started buzzing. His mother was calling. poo poo, he thought, pinching off his hot stream. He thrust a hand underwater and retrieved his phone, then shook it off before putting it up to his ear. “Hello?” “How’s my baby boy?” his mother asked. By some miracle, the phone was still working — for now. “Fine, Mom. Why do you ask?” “I heard you weren’t feeling well.” “Who told you that?” Snowjob asked, though he knew the answer. “Your stepfather,” she said. “Who else?” Snowjob sighed. Of course word would have gotten around sooner or later to his stepfather — the man was the Deputy Commisioner for Operations, after all. Snowjob also knew how the information he was going to leak would probably cost his stepfather his job. If that was the case, however, so be it. The man knew about the GISM surveillance program and had done nothing. Snowjob had brought his concerns about the system to his stepfather’s attention, and was told he didn’t know how the world operated. That he was only twenty-four-years-old and had a lot to learn. Well, gently caress that. Snowjob was glad to be young — and not old and jaded. He’d never liked his stepfather. The only thing the man had ever done for him was get him a low-level technical job working on the FDA’s mainframe. It was more than his own father had ever done for him, wherever the bastard was now. But still. When Snowjob was ever revealed to be the leak, it would tear their family apart. As if the rift between them could grow any wider. “Are you there?” his mother asked. “I’m here,” Snowjob said, doing a little dance with his pants around his ankles as he tried to hold his piss in. “So are you running a temperature? Do you need me to bring something over, like an elderberry and yarrow tea?” “I’m….” He couldn’t say fine again, but he needed to assuage her fears somehow. The last thing he needed was his mother, a can of chicken soup in hand, pounding on his door as he was packing his bags and preparing to go on the lam. He knew he should have moved further away from home — having family in the same city was a bit burdensome at times, like when you’re trying to fake an illness and flee the country. “I don’t have a fever. I think I ate something bad yesterday. I was up all night throwing up, but I’m starting to turn the corner. I promise.” “You weren’t drinking again, were you?” “No,” he said. “Not last night.” “But you still drink? You know you shouldn’t, with your father’s genes.” “I know, I know. I only drink craft beer, for what it's worth.” "How is that any better?" He rolled his eyes. "Dad drank his Miller Light so fast that he couldn't taste it — not that you can taste that poo poo anyway. I take my time when I drink." "But you drink to get intoxicated, right?" "There's more to drinking beer than getting drunk." He tried to think of what else there was, but drew a blank. It would come to him. There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment he thought the water had finally short-circuited the phone. Then he heard his mother let out a deep sigh, heavy with judgment. Talking to her was like going to confession — only she was the one that ended up doing his penance for him. “I gotta go, Mom. Like, I gotta go.” “You should call more often. Or stop by once in a while. It wouldn’t hurt you, you know. And Chuck would love to see you.” “I see him at work, in the hallways sometimes. Well, one time,” Snowjob said. “So now he’s interested in being my buddy? Is that what you’re saying?” “That man raised you, Eddie, since the time you were—” “Since the time I was nine, Mom,” Snowjob said. “He barely acknowledged my presence in the house.” “He was very busy with his job. He kept the roof over our heads.” “It takes more than that to be a father. I raised myself.” “And what a fine job you did of that,” his mother said acridly. “Listen, I’d love to keep arguing," he said, "but I need to go." “Your stomach?” “Bladder.” "Do you need me to bring you some saw palmetto? If you're having urinary problems related to your prostate —" "No," he said, cutting her off. "I just have to take a piss." “No reason to use foul language,” his mother said. “I love you anyway.” “Love you too,” he said reflexively. He ended the call and stared at the phone in his hand. Would he ever talk to his mother again? He hadn’t counted on telling her goodbye, because until today the risks had never felt real. He knew now that he might never set foot on US soil again. Might never hug his mother again. Might not ever talk to her again. He realized he should have felt something, but instead his heart was empty. Blowing the whistle on the FDA’s surveillance program was bigger than his small life. He had hardened himself to the consequences, because he was doing this so that other Americans could hug their parents. So that other Americans could fly their American flags and sing the “Star-Spangled Banner” with pride, not shame. He also realized that the phone in his hand was still dripping wet. Snowjob dropped the phone back in the toilet and finished the job he’d began earlier. A wave of relief flowed over him — or rather, out of him.
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Oct 14, 2014 14:42
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i didn't read those but i assume they discuss how he's a russian spy
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Oct 14, 2014 16:55
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go for it, eddie!
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Oct 14, 2014 17:22
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Stymie posted:i didn't read those but i assume they discuss how he's a russian spy its actually far sexier
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Oct 14, 2014 19:09
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Oct 14, 2014 19:18
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young love 
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Oct 14, 2014 19:30
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Squinty Applebottom posted:like a labrador puppy let off its leash in a dog park. lol
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Oct 14, 2014 22:30
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Squinty Applebottom posted:“That’s it, baby…that’s it…cum for me, baby.” holy fuckin poo poo op
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Oct 14, 2014 23:27
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the POS has really upped its game lately. and I haven't been posting at all. coincidence?
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Oct 14, 2014 23:46
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who the hell are you?
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Oct 14, 2014 23:47
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Displeased Moo Cow posted:who the hell are you?
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Oct 14, 2014 23:50
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bitch, I don t read poo poo
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Oct 14, 2014 23:54
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lol I'm nobody i just like it when my screen turns amber edit: and talks about GISM
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Oct 15, 2014 00:00
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I know who you are, prolific YOSPOS poster Hed
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Oct 15, 2014 00:05
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| # ? May 18, 2024 02:58 |
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Displeased Moo Cow posted:bitch, I don t read poo poo 
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Oct 15, 2014 00:46
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