Giving Coworker Sloppy Blowjob

I slathered his cock with warm spit and started stroking and massaging it. He started pumping my face and pulling my hair.
*****
I’d say the last thing I expected from Russ was what happened in the stairwell that night, but that would mean the rest of the night was any less surprising.
Russ was one of my coworkers at the turnpike rest stop restaurant. Most of my coworkers were high school seniors like me. Russ was in his mid 20s and our lead fry cook. He was also supremely strange. But then again you’d have to be if your only apparent aspiration in life was to master sunny side up eggs in a go-nowhere town most people just stop in to refill gas and grab coffee on the way to a more interesting place.
I just didn’t get Russ. He wasn’t overtly dickish, but I didn’t get his sense of humor, he didn’t strike me as particularly bright, and he had a wicked temper. Probably had to do with his height; he was 5’4 tops (at 18 I had 6 inches on him). Buzzed dark hair, coal black eyes. Not someone you’d look at twice; he just breathed “working class dirtbag” in every way.
We were working the late shift on a weekday. We were alone in the restaurant, which wasn’t unusual because traffic was always non-existent this time of night. I was already taking care of my overnight prep, mopping floors, running the dishwasher, stocking the freezer for the morning. Russ had wrapped up cleaning the kitchen – one thing I’d always give him, the guy was obsessive about keeping the kitchen spic and span.
“Yo, Jack.”
I looked up. His voice was coming from the stairwell down to the basement. I hated that basement, it reminded me of a boiler room in a horror...