Author's Note: I recently watched The Search for John Gissing, and I can confirm it is a very underrated indie comedy. AR is great in it, and I find the lack of John Gissing fics disappointing.
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Character(s): John Gissing x Gender Neutral Reader
Summary: John receives a promotion and a new office. While he anticipates your arrival for a lunch date, he receives the shock of his life when he discovers the presence of a new desk pet.
Warning(s)‼️: Smut. Under Desk BJ/Oral Sex.
Word Count: 1.5k
Read on AO3 or below the break:
He’d kept his fingers crossed for over a decade, and his diligence had finally paid off. John Gissing, a hardworking man through and through, or so he liked to think, was at long last, nearing the precipice of the corporate ladder.
He had successfully defended his position against numerous usurpers over the years—most notably the American, Barnes, who had caught on to his hijinks in record time and chose to counterattack with his own ingenious methods. Barnes had bested him, a fact John loathed to admit even to himself, the thought bringing a sourness to his mouth. But then the idiotic man came to the conclusion that the family life was what he truly desired—hang the money, hang the prestige, hang the endless meetings in dull beige conference rooms.
The little cozy life in the suburbs was never something that appealed to him, especially given his love of the bustling, no-nonsense city of London. His love of walking with purpose, with importance, as he made his way to work every morning—meticulous as the constant ticking of the old grandfather clock he was positioning in his newly awarded office.
John Gissing had been promoted yesterday, leaving him with just one more poor sod to outmaneuver in the Compu-Corps chain of command. His thirst for figurative blood never left him sated, even in his triumph.
He kicked the swivel chair out from his desk, sitting down heavily and opening up a folded up brown box full of stationery for his desk drawer, when his soul nearly left his body. Two hands gripped his upper thighs, pulling him by the belt loops into his desk, his stomach digging heavily into the thick mahogany wood. “What the?” He scooted back, looking down, squinting with confusion when his hazel eyes hidden behind thick black plastic frames locked on your face.
“Surprise!” You smiled, finger raised to your lips to shush his protests. “Relax, John, and let me take care of you.” You seductively tugged at his belt, pawing at the crotch of his trousers. He watched with a lust his eyes were poorly attempting to hide. He grimaced, before nodding, as if he were trying to convince himself of the idea.
“Yes, yes, alright, but make it quick. Doubtless everyone knows you're here now, and you promised me lunch.” You grinned, while he attempted to make himself appear busy, shooting nervous glances at the sliver of glass window uncurtained on the door to his office.
“After this, I think I will be quite full.” He looked down, just as you managed to unbuckle him, the tight silver zipper of his black trousers falling open with a sharp snip. You pulled out his rapidly hardening cock, the cool air of the complex a shock to his system, as was your teasing puffs of warm breath aimed at his naked bits.
“Get on with it,” he growled through gritted teeth, his nervousness transforming into bitter annoyance.
“Patience is a virtue,” you hissed, every syllable sending a breeze of harsh, pressurized air straight at his penis, doing nothing to curb his growing need.
“Most men’s patience is not being tried so salaciously, is it—” His office door swung inward with a click, John ensured his lower half was hidden beneath his desk, his legs spread to accommodate your presence. His erection twitched, much to your intrigue, still resting atop his trousers—twitching as if waving for your attention. And you were only too happy to give it that.
“---Gissing!” The newer company recruit entered his office, a stack of white papers stapled together at the top left corner clutched firmly in hand, a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes carefully plastered in place as he approached John’s desk.
“Hanson,” he grunted, feeling the warmth of each of your palms settling on each of his thighs. “What an unexpected surprise.” And an unwanted one, is what he wished to say, though that sort of remark would be deeply unproductive in this—unfortunate—situation.
“Congratulations on the promotion—Fulliere’s old office—not bad at all.” Hanson was looking around the office with barely checked envy, eyeing the aged grandfather clock in the corner. He brushed a lock of sandy blond hair from his face, tutting to himself softly. “Much better than that old chair.” John could not voice a protest against that. Not at all.
Your lips were so close to his cock—less than an inch he would bet—and the heat surrounding his member was beginning to effectively drive him mad, his arousal unavoidable, as his loins tensed in anticipation. “Indeed,” he bit out, as your lips wrapped around his shaft, the wet sounds nearly noiseless in the large office—just how he intended it to stay.
“Say, has your partner come in, yet? I thought I saw them enter your office twenty minutes ago, and you mentioned you were going out to lunch together—you know, to celebrate.” John could have walked over to his stack of boxes beside his desk and given them a few good kicks, or perhaps released a string of swear words the world had never heard of until that afternoon. Instead, he remained seated, a tight smile on his face—the slight smile he had to maintain to receive the object of his ambitions, the enforcement of the corporate equilibrium he thrived within.
“Er, yes, we still plan to go to lunch. They’ve gone to the loo—you know how it is.” Hanson chuckled, while John hid his yelp with a cough, the tip of his cock smarting from where you grazed him with your teeth. He supposed he deserved that for his definitely unconcealed barb—even if he was covering for both of your skins at the moment. You pulled off his dick, moving to lick him from shaft to tip like a popsicle, and he sorely wished he could look down to see the sight you made—worshipping his cock like a professional.
“Alright, Gissing? You sound as if you are under the weather.” John found himself impressed with Hanson’s faux concern, impressed by his ability to perform empathy when he knew without a doubt Hanson was sniffing out a way to pick up his slack—to play the hero should John fail. After all, it was the sort of thing he, himself, tended to do.
“Fine—just a slight tickle of the throat.” He swallowed a groan as you swallowed him to the hilt, praying you had the good sense to refrain from sucking off while Hanson was still lingering at his office door.
“If you say so,” he looked at John strangely, leaning forward to drop the report on the exposed dark wood of his desk. “Here you are—let me know if it meets your approval.” Hanson winked, turning on his heel and exiting the office briskly, the door snapping shut.
John let out a breath he did not know he was withholding, moaning as he felt your lips squeeze his shaft with a newfound aggression. “Christ, you’re relentless! You know that was a close call,” he snarled, but his outrage could not last long, and neither could his stamina.
Thin fingers dipped into his boxers, gently cradling his heavy sack. He felt so pent-up—his normal stress compounded by the promotion and your near discovery. “Ohhh,” he moaned, allowing himself to slump into his chair, Hanson’s report gripped in his meaty hand. “Please, I need this,” his hips thrusted forward, the hand not grasping the report, fisting your hair, keeping your head nicely buried on his aching crotch.
“Oh, fuck!” He spilled—pleasure filling his lower belly as he filled your throat with his hot seed. And you were good to him—so good to him—not a single drop of his cum met the polished floor, as he felt you swallow his fresh load. John went spineless in his chair, body relaxed, hand crumpling the report loose. You licked his limp member clean, tucking and zipping him up in his trousers like this was a daily occurrence—like this was a usual one o’clock meeting between your mouth and his cock.
You stepped out from under John’s desk, sitting down in his lap to face him, straddling his thighs. Lovingly, you adjusted John’s crooked glasses’ frames, fixed his disheveled hair and straightened his rumpled tie. “How about lunch, handsome?” You asked, evenly, as if you had not just sucked him off while he spoke with a colleague. A pained sound left John’s throat, as you carefully carded through his hair. “We don’t want to provoke any more suspicion, yes? And perhaps I can have some dessert, later,” you seductively whispered into his ear, nipping the flesh of his earlobe. Something snapped in the man, his expression unfreezing to reveal his usual appearance of seriousness.
“Yes, let us go before you cause us any real trouble. And behave.” He pointed his index finger meaningfully at you, and you chose to lean in and try to bite it. John pulled his finger away at the last second, looking both thoroughly affronted and a touch aroused.
Hello, everyone! I totally meant to upload this earlier; however, my internet mysteriously went out this weekend before I was able to get the chance. Anyways, please do me a favor and fill out this quick poll I made. It will let me know what we all liked about this year's event, and therefore, I can make any necessary changes for the following year. Nothing about the quiz is required, and the second half is all regarding what I write personally on my blog----what characters you'd like to see more of in the future, what kinds of stories I should write, what series I should finish/add-on to, etc.
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