It was just past 10pm when the Applicant appeared at the doorway of the office asking if he was in the right place. The Classifier thought he’d heard someone enter the suite but dismissed it as his jet lagged imagination since most of the staff were still back at the home office and none of the other employees would be unpacking boxes this late.
The Classifier barely had time to acknowledge and give the signal for silence when the man stepped forward and dropped his pants revealing himself flaccid and non-threatening. He mentioned the guide and began to describe himself when the Classifier hushed him. The Applicant pushed his hips ever so slightly forward and laid his left hand flat against himself framing his package with his index and ring finger. He gave himself a slight shake, keeping his eyes down. His shaft bounced slightly against his his sack which was deep red, high, and tight, but he clearly was not trying to challenge. He turned to the side, shook again then turned back.
The approach was bolder than most and reminiscent of applications decades back. He’d either been coached by a Dean or stumbled upon one of the rare copies of the Erectionist Meditations of which the MC Archivist had only located two aside from the original manuscript. The Classifier was annoyed by the verbal faux pas but chalked it up to nerves.
Unsure what to expect from an applicant who appeared in his 20s or 30s—at least 15 years younger than most new members—The Classifier motioned to the man to close the door, which he did. The Classifier rose from his chair and came around to the front of his desk a couple of feet from the man. The man stepped closer remaining respectfully flaccid though he had started to swell slightly. The Applicant handed over his phone on which he has pulled up a gallery of photos that looked to be from a preening session. The Classifier flipped through the photos and handed the phone back then unzipped his pants and exposed only his testicles just inches from the Applicant’s member. He contracted three times and nodded for the applicant to proceed.
What the man did next would be reported back to the recruitment cellar for consideration of the next application phase. The Applicant kept his head down and pushed his hips forward…
*Don’t overthink it, friend. This is just a greeting.*
On the other hand, the Applicant’s behavior felt intentional. He kept his feet planted as he grew causing the top of his glans to rise into the bottom of the Classifier’s plugs and lifted them. He carefully flexed his way out, then rested the tip between the plugs. It was a clear sign of respect even through the man’s palpable anxiety. He flexed nervously causing the shaft rise then slap back between the Classifiers balls which he worried was too aggressive.
The Classifier contracted his plugsack a few tines to assess the weight resting on him. The Applicant’s glans was incredibly hot and red as it tentatively pushed into the sack, flexed, and released. His flare stiffened to full mast and flexed several times dropping his tip back and forth against each plug then lifting the Classifiers plugs a few times before returning to attention. The Classifier instinctively completed the sequence by draping his sack on the Applicant’s glans and contracting a few times before sliding off and springing the cock upward. The Applicant definitely knew something about the Erectionist Meditations, but how?
Taking charge, the Classifier gathered his balls into a tight bouquet-like knot with one hand smothered the freshly shaven balls before him with his pluggers. The Applicant throbbed and flex uncontrollably for a minute with the Classifier breaking contact occasionally to gently beat his sack against the Applicant’s.
*Might as well let him know how pluggers play.*
The Classifier sensed it coming, a special kind of pre-attack twitch and hip sway. At that moment, he dropped his plugs to full sack low and guided the plump, beet red glans dead into his plugger-base of the shaft. The Applicant pushed in reflexively a hard as he could without losing his balance or making any other contact. He felt the older man mirror the force and awkwardly impale himself.
One flex, then another and another and another, harder and deeper. The Applicant’s breath quickened but he remained silent and kept his hands on his hips as a deep ache grew from the continued forward pressure on his already painfully stiff rod. Something inside sparked and the Applicant reared back slightly and then pushed slowly and deliberately with all the strength he could muster as he felt the return resistance match him. Then, pump after pump, he completely soaked the Classifier’s testicles until he went limp and their sacks touched.
Before the Applicant could recompose himself and process what was happening, the Classifier deftly retrieved his cock, a 6.5 inch flare with a subtle curve to the left. He grabbed his flare and slapped the Applicant’s shaft and balls several times then held the package in his alternate hand. He shot sperm hands free several times along the shaft before retreating to his pants. The young man did the same and quickly left.
The Applicant’s hesitation sure he hadn’t been coached. Stingers would have taught him go straight for the plugger-base and sting out a spray. A brawler would have told him to swing head; boring but effective. The preen king jocks probably would have suggested an “accidental” strike. When your rival is exposed, take your shot.
The Classifier didn’t ordinarily care what applicants thought. The club isn’t for everyone and it would be up to the classification cellar to make the call.
