Ian Tyler Erotica
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Zoom- Part 1 of 2
🕑 Added 2025-06-19 21:58:14 +0000 UTCAs someone whose job never went remote (my real job, not this one), this story is just fantasy to me. For some of you though, the risk is still out there. I'm the one who took the fall though and took some photos of myself to go along with this story- VIPs, you know where to find them.
I made it five fucking years.
Five. Years.
I made it through that weird transitional period where no one knew how Zoom worked, and everyone was constantly talking on mute as their coworkers feverishly typed messages into the chat trying to tell the mime to turn their microphone on. We discovered breakout rooms and how to actually share our screen, and then those skills faded into normalcy.
People worked remotely and used video calls daily, and unfortunately, that made it second nature. I stopped worrying about my fear of someday farting with my mic on, and I shamelessly now worked in an untucked shirt and my underwear.
Until today. Fuck.
“Hey everyone, let’s make sure we show Peter the ropes on how we do Friday meetings here.”
“Thanks, Bill! Still learning the ropes here.”
Peter Willings had just gotten hired earlier this week, and to say that I hadn’t spent the majority of my free time after work stalking him across various social media platforms would be a terrible lie. He had an inactive Tik Tok page where he posted a few videos of friends years ago, and on Facebook, he had old posts from college events. They all were sober though, so like all of us, he’d gone through and untagged the photos that didn’t need to follow us through life.
On Instagram though, I found gold. He wasn’t posting thirst traps per se, but he was a gym enthusiast who didn’t seem shy about showing off his hard work. I’d watched dozens of nearly identical videos of him lifting and then putting down heavy things repeatedly, and at the end, he’d stand up and wipe sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt. You know, that slutty maneuver that always worked because you could pretend to not be showing off.
But he was.
And in one of those videos, when he lifted his shirt, I noticed that his shorts were hanging far too low. They must have gotten caught on the bench as he stood up or maybe he was just dropping the innocent act just this once. Whatever the reason, I saw a millimeter of thigh under the hem of a pair of high-rise briefs, and based on that fact alone, I had deduced that he was gay. And I wanted him.
“Hey Peter, check the chat- I just posted the agenda so you could see the unintelligible notes that Ian types up every week.”
“How dare you- I spend hours on those!”
“Two minutes, tops.”
As Peter laughed politely, I decided that it was all because of me and nothing to do with Henry’s quips. Fuck, I was down bad.
Continuing the presentation, I kept stealing glances at Peter’s camera view as he innocently sat there in his tight polo shirt. I could see him looking down at his keyboard as he typed notes which meant that he couldn’t notice my shamelessly direct stare. I was staring at the fabric straining against his biceps and that faint bit of chest hair peeking above his last button of his shirt. I was surprised that I was still able to multitask and contribute to the meeting, but I was about to add yet another task.
Carefully trying not to give away what I was doing, I inched my briefs down my legs, trying not to sit up at all. As my underwear was almost at my knees, Henry asked me to pull up another slideshow, and I was able to somehow seamlessly do that before returning to my more important task. Finally, after almost two minutes of wiggling, my briefs were resting around my ankles, and I had a decision to make.
I’d gotten half-naked to relieve some of the pressure since my hard cock had been wedged against the tight fabric. It was standing up above my thighs now, and I wondered if I could be able to wrap my hand around my girth to have some fun. Giving a few test strokes, I realized that as long as I kept my face emotionless, that I could jerk off right on the video call.
For years, I’d been missing out on this, and it felt so naughty to be doing this as I talked with my coworkers. I wondered if they’d ever done this same thing, and now I was imagining a pen in Peter’s right hand and his dick in his left. Fuck, that was a mistake- I almost shot my load right there. Precum was lubing up my shaft, and I wondered if I would finish the job there while on the job. Could I finish without giving myself away? Would I need a round two after lunch?
Oh my god, this felt so fucking good. Scooting towards my desk another few inches, I was able to lean back in my chair, and the camera ended right above my cock. My arms just looked like they were on my armrests, but they weren’t.
Grabbing my phone, I opened up Instagram and checked to see if Peter had uploaded again, and he had. As I watched him squatting, his ass was aimed straight at my screen, and that sent me over the edge. His firm ass was perfectly outlined in those gray shorts, and it looked like he was wearing a jockstr-
“Hey Ian, do you still have that file I mailed to you last week?”
Being rocketed back to earth by Greg’s voice, I frantically looked around for the file, and I saw it on the bookshelf across my office. And that’s when I fucked up. I was trying so hard to act like I hadn’t been doing what I’d been doing that I couldn’t even think properly. Getting up to grab the file, I only realized my mistake once I heard Greg’s gasp. Looking down at my screen, I saw my cock framed there, and two boxes to the left, I saw Peter trying to stifle a laugh as my other coworkers failed at that same task.
Stepping out of frame too slowly, I carefully reached a finger over to my mouse and turned off my camera feed with my heart pumping in my chest. My brain was rapidly firing possible solutions to this problem, but I knew that there was nothing that I could do to fix this. I couldn’t really feign innocence when glistening precum was obviously visible on the head of my cock. I had let my dick think for me earlier, and now my actual brain couldn’t fix it now.
Looking down at my screen which I had muted, I saw a blushing Greg desperately trying to keep going like nothing had happened, and a notification popped up in a window above him. It was from my boss, and there was just one sentence on the screen next to an invite link.
We’ll chat at 1:00 after lunch.
