[PARTTIME INSTAGRAM]
"May I come in, Sir?" Wilmer asked as he peeped into the office.
"Yes." Then the manager ushered him to a seat in front of the desk.
"What is this about?" Wilmer inquired carefully.
"Do you know that in the contract that you signed when you worked as a full time junior manager in this company that you should not be taking any other part time jobs?" the middle aged, burly manager asked.
"Yes. I do remember that clause." He replied confidently.
The manager took the iPad on the desk and showed him the screen. It was his second instagram account. A picture was blown up. It was him in his undies with a camera on his hand taking a picture. It was his profile picture.
"That's my instagram," Wilmer spoke.
"Yeah. Your profile said, 'I'm a part time fitness and underwear model. Hire me!'" the manager sarcastically.
Wilmer swallowed, "I really don't get paid much for that, Sir. It's really more of a hobby."
The manager started swiping then showed a picture of him posing in blue briefs, "this is a good shot. And with a body like that? I'm sure photographers and brands will pay you a month's worth salary for a spread."
Wilmer was red in worry. "Look Sir, I can take down my modelling account if you like. I'll stop taking extra jobs. It's just that I'm saving up for a car. And I'm still not eligible for the company's car support program."
The manager continued scrolling, "hey, actually lot's of people are also doing online selling jobs in this company. I could have overlooked this... However, this one... I am not very happy about."
Then he showed a picture of Wilmer in the blue briefs being hugged by an old bear gay man behind him.
"You do escort services too?!" the manager bellowed.
"I-- no I--" Wilmer just stammered and could not deny.
"I want you to stop this before someone reports to me. Then I'll expel you for sure." The manager commanded.
Wilmer was almost crying, "yes sir. I'm very sorry. This will not happen again. I'm sorry."
He stood up and was about to leave the office. He felt the manager's hand tug his arm.
"How much do you need to get that car?" the manager asked.
Wilmer sobbed, "five thousand dollars?"
"I'll give you five thousand," the manager said.
Wilmer's forehead crumpled, "why? Why would you do that?"
"Because I'm going to take your services. And I'm going to pay you."
Before Wilmer could even react, the manager planted a deep kiss on his lips. He was surprised but he responded to the kisses ardently.
He felt the manager opening pants and pulling it down. "Suck me."
Wilmer sat on the desk and started giving the manager a blowjob. He did good. It was a big cock but he deep throated it like an expert.
"Ohhh shit. Ughhh... I'll add cocksucking in your job description you slut," the manager groaned.
The manager pulled out his dick. "Five thousand dollars. I should to fuck you at least."
Wimer smirked and took all his clothes off. Then he laid on the desk and raised his thighs to show his hole. "Do it. Fuck me sir."
"Damn you're hot."
Wilmer took in the large penis in his chute. He moaned in ecstasy as it kept hitting his spot.
Before the manager came, he declared, "your new part time job after office hours is being my personal bitch!"
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