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Office Prank Gone Wrong (Gone SEXUAL!)

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This might be one of his most cost-effective pranks yet - but would it succeed? Until Dwight returned from the washroom, Jim could only guess at how this particular stunt would pan out. From his vantage point tucked away beneath Dwight’s desk, Jim couldn’t see shit besides the downpour of Phyllis’ skirt. 

It was a tight squeeze. His body was curled into some strange hybrid between the letter cee and a doubleyew. The unhappy bend of his neck was enough to make Jim’s lungs struggle to fill as he sat with his right side flush against the desk’s wooden backing. Worse was the way his knees dug painfully into his chest. Damn his height to hell. Jim was going to be sore tomorrow if he held this position for too long. 

The plan was to spook Dwight, simple as. This was hardly one of Jim’s more elaborate pranks - just a scare, really - but therein lay the appeal of it. Five minutes of limb-crushing discomfort crammed beneath his pod partner’s desk would be more than worth it for a brief but hilarious display of Dwight’s exaggerated fight or flight response. Jim would have to be careful that he didn’t get kneed in the face. Maybe Pam was right, maybe this wasn't such a great plan. Buds of regret began to blossom in his stomach. 

Pam was the only one in on the prank, and she'd helped distract the others by pretending to go into labour while Jim crawled into place. She called it his parting gift for her last day in the office. 

Suddenly, Jim heard the break room door open. What little breath he had faltered. In the wake of the open door came controlled footsteps and an air of confidence. Definitely Dwight. Jim shrunk his tall frame as best he could and held his breath as Dwight approached. Jim’s heartbeat thudded in his ears. With a practiced ease Dwight rolled out his chair, sat, and then scooted back to his desk - one knee came terrifyingly close to touching Jim’s shoulder. 

A few moments passed, and then Jim succumbed to the need to fill his lungs. Now that he was boxed in by Dwight’s lower body, the air grew stifled. He hoped to any god that would listen that Dwight wouldn’t hear him wheezing, but if the older man suspected anything the sound of his steady keyboard clicks didn’t reveal it. 

Jim swallowed roughly, unsure of how to proceed. Should he gently caress Dwight’s thigh? Tie his shoelaces together? Tickle his ankles? 

...Grab his dick?

Jim’s thoughts lingered on that last idea. It’d be retribution for when Dwight had grabbed his groin not once, not twice, but three times (four times?) to check to see if Jim had a hardon for Pam’s temp. Yes, this would make solid payback.

Slowly, Jim slunk his right hand across his chest towards the space between Dwight’s parted knees. He couldn’t see well enough to line up his palm, he’d just have to be quick and feel his way to the right spot. Warm air encompassed Jim's outstretched hand. Was the subtle shift in heat coming from Dwight’s crotch? Deciding to follow the heat, Jim flinched as his palm made contact with Dwight’s clothed groin. Any second now, Dwight would react. 

Many seconds passed. To Jim’s surprise, no sudden movement or exclamation erupted from his frenemy’s body. Instead, Dwight’s knees feel open a fraction, as if inviting a firmer touch. 

Jim’s hand was still on Dwight dick. Why was he still palming Dwight’s dick? Why was Dwight already hard ?

Suddenly feeling trapped, Jim withdrew his hand. His eyes yawned wide, pulse racing. This prank was a total failure. Jim nearly yelped as a firm hand carded through his hair. Correction, this prank was backfiring . Dwight’s hand gripped Jim near painfully, and the taller man felt horribly vulnerable. He watched as the older man toggled the chair’s height-adjuster and sunk the seat to its lowest setting. 

Slowly, Dwight spread his legs as widely as the desk would allow, then tugged Jim into the space between them. Jim protested with a muffled grunt as his face was shoved into Dwight’s crotch, the bridge of his nose pressing against what was definitely a swollen shaft. His muscles screamed as his weight was transferred from his rear to his left thigh, legs now tucked somewhat beneath him. 

Jim panicked. Could Pam hear him struggling? Could she guess what was happening? 

When Jim moved to withdraw Dwight held him in all the tighter, smothering the younger man with the warm, taut fabric of his dress pants. Jim continued to struggle against Dwight’s grip, his hands digging into the beet farmer’s thighs as if to pry him apart. The younger man looked up to meet the elder’s smirking gaze, which seemed to say ‘ I’ve got you now, idiot’ . Too ashamed to alert the others that he was trapped under Dwight’s desk, Jim ceased struggling and waited to be released. He wasn’t. Instead, he was coaxed to press his mouth over Dwight’s clothed erection. 

Jim’s eyes went wide with fear and he let out a heavy pant, a disgruntled noise of disbelief. Then, Dwight shallowly rolled his hips against the heat of his mouth and Jim actually whimpered . This was so not okay. Not even remotely okay, and yet with every second he spent completely at Dwight’s mercy, Jim felt increasingly turned on. 

“Suck me off and I’ll let you out.” 

Dwight whispered the ultimatum so quietly that Jim almost missed it. Give Dwight head in the office - with everyone within earshot? What if they heard them, saw them?

Why was he more worried about the complications of public sex than he was about giving Dwight a blow job?

"Pam says it's okay."

Jim nearly choked on his own saliva. Pam had been pretty open from the start about her interest in watching Jim with other men. They'd enjoyed company in bed before. But they hadn't pre-discussed this. This was Dwight for Christ's sake.

Jim blushed furiously as he considered agreeing to Dwight’s terms. It was humiliating. He would be submitting to Dwight. And yet, he didn’t have the brain capacity to figure any other way out of the situation, other than embarrassing himself by yelling and crawling out or waiting until Dwight got bored or merciful. But if Pam was okay with it…

In an almost impressive lapse of judgment, Jim finally nodded.

“Good boy.”

To Jim's mortification, the words went straight to his own filling cock. 

Dwight leaned his upper body closer to the lip of his desk, attempting to hide Jim’s head from view. The only people in the office who might have an angle on Dwight's lower body were Stanley - who rarely looked up from his desk - and Creed, who was a self-proclaimed voyeur. 

Jim relaxed a fraction as Dwight let go of his hair and presumably set about work on his computer. Jim tensed when he realised that that meant that it was time to put his mouth to work. 

As quietly as he could manage, Jim drew his hands to Dwight’s belt and slowly undid the buckle. Thankfully, the metal didn’t clink as he tucked it out of the way. Jim struggled with the button to Dwight’s pants, however. After a minute or so of fumbling with it, Dwight swatted his hands away and undid his pants himself, zipper and all, then went back to typing away on his keyboard.

Jim couldn’t tear his gaze away from the bulge that threatened to spill out from the confines of Dwight’s briefs. With the older man’s torso pressed so closely to the edge of the desk, Jim had to pull his head back slightly. This was a tight fit, indeed. 

Jim felt down along the carpet to the base of Dwight’s chair and rolled it as close as their bodies would allow. Then, he reached into the older man’s boxers and fished out his thick cock. Jim gave it a few tentative strokes, and marveled at the girth of it. 

Apparently he was taking too long, because suddenly one of Dwight’s hands was back in his hair, pulling him in close so that the fat head of his dick prodded against Jim’s lips. Regret sprouted up Jim’s throat, but it was too late to turn back now, as Dwight had managed to thumb his mouth open and was already shoving his cock inside. 

Jim’s eyes squeezed shut as his mouth was filled, as he tasted precum. Dwight’s hand remained at the back of his head for a few moments, as if to make sure that Jim wouldn’t pull off. When Jim finally relented and flexed his tongue against the other’s heated flesh, Dwight let out a contented sigh and withdrew his hand. 

For the next several minutes, Jim taught himself to suck dick. His technique was mostly a replication of his own personal preferences, paying special attention to Dwight’s slit with his tongue. Once he'd worked up the courage, Jim started trying to fit more of his co-worker into his mouth. If Dwight minded the occasional drag of Jim’s teeth against his cock, he didn’t show it. 

Every few strokes, Jim would try to take a little more of Dwight into his mouth, until he finally managed to swallow over half of his cock. Jim’s nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath on the upstroke, then slid back down the shaft as far as he could go, his first real attempt at deepthroating. 

A weird bubble of pride grew within him as his nose met Dwight’s curled pubic hair. That bubble burst when Dwight held him there and slowly fucked into the back of his mouth, the head of his cock flirting with Jim’s throat. 

Seconds passed, and still Dwight held Jim deep on his cock, using the younger man like a toy, fucking into his mouth in shallow, quiet thrusts. Tears brimmed in Jim’s eyes as he began to grow panicked. He fisted his hands into Dwight’s pants and fought the urge to gag. Unsuccessfully. A dry-heave gripped his body but the noise was masked by Dwight who started coughing emphatically. 

Furious, Jim tapped Dwight's thigh repeatedly, trying to signal to his office rival that he needed a break. More seconds passed and Jim's face was still buried in Dwight's crotch, his throat beginning to burn as he tried to silently accommodate more cock, anything that might coax Dwight into letting him pull off.  

As a last ditch effort, Jim allowed himself to make some small, desperate noises. Basically, he was whining. Dwight elicited a groan, which he then turned into a cough to save face, and finally let Jim pull off. 

"You okay, Dwight?" Pam asked, perhaps a bit too sweetly.

Dwight nodded but continued to cough loudly, the noise allowed Jim to sputter somewhat freely down below as he recovered. Jim could only imagine what Pam knew of their interaction so far. She must be watching Dwight's face like a hawk. 

"I-I am fine, Pamela. Your concern is unnecessary." Moments later, Dwight's typing resumed.

Jim was furious. Not with Pam, but with himself for agreeing to Dwight's ultimatum. He should've known that Dwight would be rough with him. Sucking his desk mate's admittedly choice dick was bad enough, getting face-fucked was another issue entirely. It was with this fury in Jim's heart that he grabbed Dwight's cock, slipped his mouth over the head, and made the presence of his teeth known. He skated the edges of his front teeth against Dwight's coronal ridge. A quiet threat. Dwight stopped typing. 

Jim nearly moaned as one of Dwight's shoes found his growing erection, applying a messy pressure that was likely meant to appease him. Jim rolled his hips into the friction, his mouth going slack as he chased his own pleasure.

He shouldn't have so easily swayed, however. A few ruts in, Dwight pulled Jim back down his shaft, and in his distraction Jim could only open up widely and hope not to gag. He was forced right back down to the base, then guided to the head again - slow, deep strokes. Dwight's foot was still pressed snugly against his cock. 

Jim let out another small whimper, his face long since gone red, eyes running with tears. He was painfully turned on, which was confusing enough on its own without Dwight using his mouth like a living fleshlight. Worse still, this position was pushing Jim’s flexibility to its limits. His neck was twinging painfully every time Dwight pulled against the back of his head. 

He had to make Dwight come, and fast, or else his back might just break. Jim made a stronger vacuum in his mouth, and picked up speed. Seemingly pleased with Jim's renewed enthusiasm, Dwight let go of the younger man's hair and rewarded him by rocking his foot more steadily into his tented crotch. 

Jim mewled at the pressure against his aching dick. Dwight groaned at the feeling of Jim's vocalizations around his dick. 

"Did you guys hear that? That whining?" Phyllis called, spinning to face Dwight and Pam. "I swear it sounds like someone's really upset or something." 

Jim froze, blood racing. He pulled off Dwight's cock and held his breath.

"Maybe Andy's crying again." Pam offered. "I know he was watching Toy Story in his office this morning."

"Pfft, as if Andy needs a reason to cry." Dwight tsked. "That man has the emotional volatility of a spoiled goat."

"You can spoil a goat?" Pam quirked her head.

"Do geese have teeth?" Dwight chided, cock twitching in Jim's face, swollen and leaking. 

"Do geese have teeth?" Erin pondered aloud. 

"We should try to cheer him up!" Pam exclaimed, knowing full well that Andy was just napping in his office, and that her husband was the one making such admittedly pretty noises. "Erin, would you put on some music?"

"A dance party." The young receptionist whispered, deadly serious. “Yes.”

"I wouldn't mind a chance to bust a few moves." Phyllis smiled.

"We should head down to the warehouse, there's more space." Oscar stood.

Jim had to fight to keep quiet as Dwight kept rubbing the sole of his shoe against his erection. He wanted to cry in relief at the mass exodus of his co-workers, but more than that he wanted to come. Jim bit his lip as everyone filed out of the office. He heard Pam wake Andy and send him on his way downstairs. 

"Are you coming, Dwight?" Kevin frowned. 

"Dancing during daylight hours is a sign of W-WEAK-neSs." Dwight's voice cracked when Jim shoved his twitching cock back into his mouth and sucked, hard. 

Jim felt more than heard the thump of Dwight's forehead on the desk. Dwight’s groaning reverberated through the wood. A small victory, then. Jim kept suckling the older man's dick, glad to be the one in control for once.

"I'll keep trying to convince him, Kevin," Pam winked. "You go on down. We'll be right behind you."

Kevin lumbered off, leaving the office empty save for Jim, Dwight, and Pam. 

"You conniving little whore, trying to blow our cover like that." Dwight scolded Jim, gripping his brown locks tightly for the upteenth time that day. "You're lucky I've got the sexual endurance of several men."

Jim heaved for breath as Dwight pulled him off his cock. Jim looked absolutely ruined. Eyes bleary, skin blotchy and red, lips swollen and sloppy with a mix of saliva and pre. He groaned when Dwight removed his foot and rolled away from his desk. Jim half fell half crawled out from under the desk, panting with relief as he stretched out his aching limbs and straightened his neck.

Daring to open his eyes, Jim blinked up at Pam, who was staring at him with blown pupils.

"Oh wow...Jim, honey, you look...just...wow." 

Pam, speechless. Jim was shocked. 

"Are you gonna finish the job or what, Halpert?" Dwight interjected, cock still on display. "My dick isn't gonna suck itself."

Jim had lost all grip on language. It was if all his words were stapled to the back of his throat. He looked to Pam, then back to Dwight. Back to Pam. To Dwight. 

"God, you've really got him worked up, Dwight. How did you manage that?" Pam mused, then knelt down to her husband and kissed his sweaty forehead. "If it's too much we can stop, Jim. You've done so well already, it's okay to stop."

Jim was still wordless and panting. He struggled to verbalise what he was feeling. Turned on? Furious with Dwight? Proud that he was affecting Pam? All of the above? 

"Your husband responds well to a strong hand, Pam. I've always known that Jim was my inferior, but to see him submit so easily was...pleasurable to say the least."

"Y-You...you asshole. You n-nearly killed me-" Jim stammered, still upset that Dwight had held him too long throat-deep.

"Oh hardly, idiot. I can read your body's limits like a book, you could've swallowed around my cock for much longer."

Jim was so flustered he resigned to groan in frustration. 

"But...I'm sorry if my actions made you feel unsafe. If you should be willing to continue, then I would agree to cease my actions immediately if or when you tap my thigh."

Jim dug the heel of his palm into his erection, using the pleasure to ground himself. 

"There's no pressure, honey-"

"I'll do it if Dwight sucks me off after."

"Agreed." Dwight smirked. 

Pam sat on Phyllis' desk and watched as Jim crawled his way over to Dwight's lap. 

He licked a long stripe up Dwight's shaft before closing his mouth over the tip and sucking. Part of Jim was glad to get lost in the act. Dwight sighed happily as their rhythm picked up, and gently feathered his fingers across Jim's scalp.

Jim felt positively undone. The fear and exhilaration of giving Dwight head while the office was full had imprinted on him, he felt high on the leftover adrenaline in his system and his dick ached in his pants.

"F-Fuck, just like that." Dwight moaned as Jim took him deeper. 

Jim blushed at the unexpected praise. He was suddenly filled with the desire to be good, to impress Pam, and to make Dwight come undone. He swallowed Dwight deeper, as deep as he could, his face flush with his co-worker's lower abdomen, and hummed. 

Dwight's head fell back as he groaned, holding Jim in place with his large hands. 

"J-Jim. Fuck."

Jim stayed in place - of his own volition. He undulated his tongue against the underside of Dwight's cock.

"Make the other sounds, babe," Pam requested. "The whiny, desperate ones. They're really hot."

Jim shoved down his embarrassment and started to replicate his mewling pleas from earlier, guessing that they were a turnon not only to Pam but to Dwight as well. When Dwight’s approval rumbled into audition Jim realised that he might just come from this alone. The idea of being at Dwight's mercy again was making his cock pulse precum. He grabbed Dwight's hands and made the older man force him down harder.

He looked up to Dwight's eyes, trying to tell him to be rougher, to fuck his mouth again. Dwight seemed to get the message. He gripped Jim's head forcefully and shoved his rival's face further into his groin, completely bottoming out in Jim's mouth. Jim made a terrified noise, crying out as best he could with Dwight's cock nudging into his throat, but didn't move to tap out. 

Jim gagged, loud and wet. Tears paraded down his cheeks. Another dry-heave, his face scrunched into a pleasure-pain grimace. He would make Dwight come. Nothing else mattered now.

When Jim’s throat spasmed for the third time, Dwight pulled the younger man up by his hair. Jim let Dwight’s hand carry the weight of his head which, judging by the look in his rival’s eyes, made for quite the appealing image. Jim relaxed his jaw, eyes dark and glassy, a mess of saliva running down his chin. 

“Look at you. Gorgeous. Compliant. Needy, even.”

Jim couldn’t discern if the praise came from Dwight or Pam, but couldn’t really care because suddenly he was swallowing Dwight down once again, and this time it was easier to accommodate his co-worker’s girth. He looked up to Dwight’s furrowed brows with an innocent, pet-like face, eyebrows pinned up with want. This was his begging face. Pam would recognise it. 

“Mnnff-fuck, I’m close.” Dwight bit out, shoving into Jim with renewed vigour. “Let me come in your mouth.”

Jim whined again, low and wanting, and took Dwight deeply. Again, he gagged, drool escaping from the corners of his mouth. 

Finally, Dwight came with a shout. Jim’s eyes blew wide as his mouth flooded and he started to properly choke. Frantic, he tapped Dwight’s thigh and, thankfully, even in the haze of orgasm the older man helped Jim off his pulsing cock. A final spurt of come landed on Jim’s cheek as he started to cough, mess spilling from his puffy lips. 

Dwight fisted himself a few times, the last of his ejacute dribbling over his fingers. Jim watched, transfixed. He was too fucked-out to consider pulling out his own aching cock.

Pam was beside him, Jim finally noticed. She was pressing kisses into his hairline, rubbing his back in reassuring circles.

"You did so well, Jim. Seriously, I'm beyond impressed."

"He performed adequately." 

"A-Adequate? That's all you have to say?" Jim sputtered, indignant. "I made you come didn't I?"

"Jim, Jim, Jim...get up."

"Dwight-"

"Pam, help me get him into the chair."

Jim huffed in defeat as the two helped him up off the floor. He felt noodly and not quite sane. He’d been in subspace before and this interaction was toeing the line. Once dropped into Dwight's chair Jim kicked out legs and palmed himself, groaning. Pam dragged the rolling chair in front of her spot on Phyllis' desk so that she could watch over her husband's shoulder as Dwight sunk to his knees and undid Jim's belt. 

Within moments Jim was exposed to the air. Dwight had a look in his eye that spelt trouble but Jim was too desperate for stimulation to care. Before he could grab Dwight by his neatly-parted hair and drag him to business, Dwight fed himself Jim's cock of his own accord. So much for retribution.

"Oh-h my god-" Jim gripped that arm rests, then placed a hand on the back of Dwight's head. “Ughhhffffuckkk.”

"He's pretty good at that, huh?" Pam spoke into the shell of Jim's ear. 

Jim grunted in what could've been an affirmative fashion. He didn't want to give Dwight the satisfaction, but the way his co-worker was working his shaft was dizzying. He was close already. 

Without warning, Dwight deepthroated him and Jim let out a breathy moan, his head falling back. He kept Dwight sealed around the base of his cock, enjoying the way the back of his rival's throat fluttered around him. The heat was all encompassing. It was excruciatingly perfect.

To Jim's confusion, Dwight never gagged. Even when Jim tested out some shallow thrusts, Dwight didn't display discomfort and never tapped out. For nearly a minute the older man was seemingly content to keep his rival buried deeply inside his mouth. 

Jim hauled Dwight off his cock, hips twitching at the lack of friction but his mind was racing. 

"Dwight, where's your gag reflex?" He frowned.

"Why on Earth would I need a reflex for something I can do on command?" 

"What, no way!" Pam laughed, her arms draped over Jim's shoulders.

"Why are you laughing? Any disciplined man could teach himself to vomit on command. This speaks volumes to Jim's inability to-"

"Oh my GOD Dwight, please shut up."

Jim, somewhat rudely, forced his cock back into the other man's mouth. Dwight hollowed his cheeks obediently, perhaps determined to finish Jim off quickly.

The younger man could hardly complain as Dwight took him to the root and swallowed around his length. 

"F-Fuck, nghh I'm close."

"I want you to be loud for me when you come, okay babe?" Pam directed, her hands snaking down Jim's torso to play with his chest. "No one'll hear. But it’s gotta be soon."

“Mnnfff-fuck, o-okay.” Jim huffed out, his hips stuttering as Pam pawed at his nipples through his dress shirt. “You owe me for this, Beesly.”

“Pfft, as if you aren’t enjoying this.”

“I-I am, huh?”

“Hurry up and make him come, Dwight - the others could be back any minute.”

Dwight shot Pam a dirty look, but resigned to stroking Jim with a hand while suckling at his rival’s pre-slick head. Jim was in a delightful kind of agony, teetering on the edge of orgasm just waiting for something to tip him over. With a loud pop, Dwight released Jim’s tip and shot the younger man some remarkably effective bed eyes.

“Fuck my mouth.”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

Jim couldn’t help but maintain eye-contact as Dwight dove back to the root, his nose nestled in the coarse hair framing his cock. Not one for rough sex himself, Jim cautiously gripped Dwight’s head and shoved himself deeper. Then again. And Again. On the fourth stroke, Dwight let out a small noise of discomfort and something about it just kicked Jim right off the edge and into orgasm. He arched his back, hips erratic. Face pinched in pleasure and thrown back towards the ceiling, Jim relished in the way his abdomen clenched like a vice as he pumped seed into Dwight’s mouth. 

As per Pam’s request, Jim didn’t hold his broken noises back. A long, keening sound fell from his lips until Dwight finished swallowing, at which point Jim could only gasp for breath. 

“Oh my god.”

“Oh my god.” Pam mirrored.

“God doesn’t care that you got off, Jim.” Dwight spat, wiping ejaculate from his lips. Admittedly, the older man looked wonderfully disheveled. “Unlike Himeros, the greek god of sexual desire. He definitely cares.”

“Well, Dwight, thank you for this, I guess.” Jim sighed, tucking himself back into his pants. On shaky legs, he stood. “Also, screw you for face-fucking me under your desk.”

“It’s not my fault that you have a gag reflex, Jim. Learn to throw up without it or stop complaining.” Dwight tsked, standing and rolling his chair back into place. “Besides, you agreed to my sexual proposition after you so foolishly tried to scare me by grabbing by nether region.”

Jim looked down at his shoes, then back up to Dwight. “Fair.”

“Honey, you grabbed Dwight’s nether regions?”

“It was supposed to be payback for when he groped me like six times last week.”

“Pfft, three. Learn to count, idiot.”

Pam slid her arm into Jim’s and leaned her head against his shoulder. 

“For what it’s worth, you guys have an excellent dynamic.” She grinned, digging her elbow playfully into her husband’s side. “Jim, I love you, which is why I’m going to tell you what you already know - you enjoyed being dominated by Dwight. I could see this happening again, under the right circumstances.”

“Dominated, Pam? I don’t know if that’s the right word.”

“Oh it’s definitely the right word, Jim.” She shot him some quirked eyebrows and he blushed. 

“Really? What about ...servicing him? Or tolerating him?” Jim shook his head.

“You’re a submissive little slut if I’ve ever seen one.” Dwight smirked and promptly slapped Jim on the ass.

“DWIGHT. OH MY GOD.”