There are many risks involved when a boss and a direct employee decides on secretly shagging each other. Trust me, Tenoch and I have had numerous close encounters at the high-rise building we worked at. When we first started out, we agreed on some fundamental ground rules that would not only protect our jobs, but also our reputations and private relationships.
The first and foremost rule was that our cock-fun could never develop into a lasting and loving relationship. (This is a line we’ve crossed in recent years. Bear with us, we’ll get to that story in due time.) I guess in really practical terms it meant that Tenoch expected of me not to ever fall in love with him, a happily married man. Whilst Shakespeare’s “woman scorned” was not something he looked forward to, the agreement worked both ways as I was really young and very much discovering my sexuality. I agreed. He agreed. We obliged.
The second rule was that absolute discretion was required. The last thing we wanted was gossip at the office or everyone being in on a supposed secret. In the advertising industry this would easily translate to suicide. Once again, in practical terms this meant that no matter how good the sex was (we’ve had hundreds of great experiences!), we could never tell anybody about it. We took the gap and trusted each other.
Thirdly, we realised that as colleagues we could never let sexual tension into our open-plan offices. We were straight men, for God’s sake, and Tenoch was my boss. This meant no funny looks, no unwanted attention, no jealousy and above all, covering out tracks.
Hey, it’s been almost ten years, and I can assure you that these three commandments have kept us safe and out of trouble for the most part. Well, except for one or two occassions where we slipped up and basically risked losing it all. It freaked us out so much I thought we would never get hard again. But we did.
