“Mr. Hiroesho, are you done with the labor negotiations,” Si..

“Mr. Hiroesho, are you done with the labor negotiations,” Simtoe knocked on the large double doors to his boss’s office. “Yes, Mr. Simto, we are done. Aren’t we, Mr. Lorenzo ,” the older Japanese businessman responded to his assistant. “Yes, Master,” the muscular American man that sat in the chair across from Hiroesho responded in a drone like voice. It was then that Simto noticed that the American blue collar worker, who was a thorn in the Japanese billionaire's side, was sitting naked, except for his heavy boots on his size 12” feet, in the high back chair across from Hiroesho. Drool was running from Gio’s mouth and down his masculine jaw and chin. Gio’s fat cock was coated with his own cum but still standing hard and leaking pre-cum. “Mr. Lozano has agreed to a very generous package for his fellow worker, haven’t we Gio,” the older man laughed. “Yes, master, very generous,” the masculine ItalianAmerican man replied, not taking his eyes off the billionaire’s cock. Simto walked up behind the seated muscle giant. “Go ahead Simto, you can touch him, he won’t bite. Anymore,” the older man laughed. Simto reached over the chair and squeezed Gio’s massive shoulders. He loved the feel of the thick, smooth muscles under his small hands. He boldly squeezed the huge pecs, cupping them in his hands as if they were a woman's breasts. Gio let out a moan as his cock jerked at the other man’s touch. Simto then moved his hands down the large tattooed arms. Gio’s arms were as thick as Simto’s head and the massive, smooth thighs, seated and spread open, were each as around as Simto’s waist. “I have a conference call with the other Cartel members. Make sure that Mr. Lozano is tooken care of and redress. Oh, and do feel free to enjoy yourself with him,” the older man zipped up his pants. “My pleasure, sir,” Simto smiled as he help the giant muscle bound stud on to his feet. Gio looked so confused as he looked from Hiroesho and then to Simto. Simto picked up the discard jeans, tshirt, and white briefs from the floor, before guiding the fucked stud out of the elegant office. Gio didn’t resist or protest as Simto ram his hand over the muscular ass cheeks.