INTERN MOVER
The intern was young. Fresh out of college, said he’d graduated top of his class. Walked into the office with a pressed shirt, wide eyes, and a voice that tried to sound confident. He said he was willing to work unpaid. Just wanted to be part of something big.
The department head looked him over and said fine. There was something about the intern — polite, neat, too pretty for the dull beige office walls. He didn’t talk much, just nodded and did everything asked of him.
Coffee runs, paper shredding, carrying stuff from the mailroom. He never complained. Always said, “Yes, sir.” He had this clean, quiet kind of energy. Sometimes awkward, sometimes too focused. But always eager.
One Thursday afternoon, a stack of boxes showed up. Big, white ones marked FRAGILE, piled near the lobby. There were way too many for one person, and everyone else had already left. The department head had a meeting to finish but glanced at the intern and said, “Could you start moving those to storage?”
The intern nodded and rolled up his sleeves.
He started with his jacket still on, then took it off. After a few trips, his shirt got soaked. It clung to his chest, and when he peeled it off, the department head looked up from his laptop and forgot how to type.
The intern’s body was something else. Broad chest, tight stomach, lines carved across his torso like someone had sculpted him. Sweat rolled down between his pecs, down over the flat of his abs, disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. His arms flexed with each lift, veins popping along his biceps. His thighs filled out the shorts like they were too small. The black socks and shiny shoes made the whole thing look kind of ridiculous. And hot.
The department head kept pretending to work.
Eventually, the intern was the only one still moving boxes. It was late now, the office almost empty. Just quiet, humming lights and the sound of cardboard sliding on the floor. The department head looked up again. The intern was bent over a box, muscles shifting under his skin, back gleaming with sweat.
Then he stood up. Looked straight at the department head. And smiled.
He walked over, slow. His chest rose and fell. He was still shirtless, his shorts low on his hips now.
“Is there something else you want me to do… sir?”
The department head didn’t say anything. Just stared.
The intern stepped closer. Close enough to smell the sweat on his skin. His hand touched the desk, then the department head’s shoulder. And then he kissed him.
It was clumsy and hot and fast. Their mouths pushed together, breath mixing, lips sliding. The intern’s hands were everywhere — grabbing, squeezing, tugging at clothes. The department head let out a soft sound, surprised at how good it felt.
Suddenly the intern grabbed him by the hips and lifted him up. Just like that. Carried him over to the nearest table, laying him down flat on his back.
The department head gasped, legs dangling off the edge.
The intern stood over him, breathing heavy. His hands ran down the department head’s shirt, pulling it open, exposing his chest. Then down further, fingers fumbling with the belt, pulling pants open, underwear sliding down. Every movement was rough, needy. There wasn’t much talking. Just soft gasps and the rustle of fabric hitting the floor.
The intern undressed too, letting his shorts fall. His body was big, hard, flushed from the effort. He climbed on top, skin hot and slick, hips pressing between the department head’s legs.
Then he pushed in, slow at first.
The department head moaned, fingers digging into the intern’s back. It was overwhelming — thick, stretching, burning. But good. So good. He wrapped his legs around the intern’s waist, pulling him closer.
The intern started moving — hips rolling, deep and strong. Every thrust sent jolts through the department head’s body. He arched off the table, held onto the intern like he might fall apart. Their bodies slapped together, skin slick with sweat, the table creaking under them.
It was messy. Loud. Full of moans and panting.
When they were both close, the intern leaned down, kissed his mouth again, then buried his face in his neck and let go.
Afterward, they stayed there. Breathing hard. Sticky. Silent.
The intern pulled back, looked at the department head, and smirked.
“Anything else you need… sir?”
The department head couldn’t answer.
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