by Katy Kaylee
Every bit of stimuli around me just seemed downright annoying, my teeth grinding at themselves and my patience whittling down to nothing. If Mr. Fitzgerald noticed my irritation or my shortness, he didn’t say at all, just continuing work as per usual.
“Why don’t you go get yourself some water?”
“Pardon?” I looked up from the list I was drafting, one of all the different people that he said he wanted to contact for different parts of his project.
“Your face is red again, and I’m fairly certain there haven’t been any particularly grating wind storms in my office. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
I let out a snort before immediately covering my mouth in embarrassment. Mr. Fitzgerald seemed more amused at the sound than anything, so I tried to quickly recover. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sure you are. Get some water.”
I picked up my spill-proof cup that I always kept on me and went towards the water cooler out by the secretaries’ desks. While I didn’t often talk to the ladies, they seemed much more relieved the longer I was around. I guessed that I took some of the brunt of their workload off of them. From what Chris had told me, when there wasn’t an assistant for Mr. Fitzgerald, the two took turns running all the errands he needed outside of work.
When I returned, Mr. Fitzgerald was sitting on the edge of his desk, drinking the coffee I had brought him after lunch and rubbing one of his temples with his free hand. For the first time since I had seen him, he looked tired.
Huh.
I walked towards him, uncertain what to do with the image of my boss looking less than perfectly poised and in control.
“Are you alright?” I asked, trying not to sound worried. I hated when people fussed over me. It made me feel like they were trying to coddle or trick me.
“I’m fine,” he said, loosening his tie a touch and then rolling his neck. “Just sometimes have to remind myself that I’m human.”
My eyes went to that little gap of tanned flesh and my heart kicked into overdrive. I was reminded of my dream from that morning, images flashing through my mind like the most pornographic daydream.
I told myself not to stare, that I was being absolutely ridiculous, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away. I could see the swell of each of his pectorals, just the slightest bit of curly hair between them. I wondered what they would feel like against my fingertips, if I brushed my hand over that expanse. Would it-
“See something you like?”
Mr. Fitzgerald’s voice knocked me out of my fantasy and I looked up at him absolutely horrified. “I, uh-”
“It’s fine,” he said with a gentle laugh. “Boost to my ego, actually.”
“Like your ego needs any more boosting,” I managed to recover, rolling my eyes slightly.
“Why, Ms. Viello, your tone makes it sound like you think I might be cocky.”
Of course, he would use that word. “Not cocky,” I objected. “Just confident. Confident enough, actually. Any more and then we might have to be worried.”
He leaned towards me again, his shirt gaping ever so slightly to where I could see a little farther down his shirt. If he just moved a little further, I might be able to see past his pecs and just how many abs he had…
“Are you saying that you’re worried about me, Ms. Viello?”
“Bev,” I repeated, my mind getting swamped by the rushing feeling in my middle. Goodness, he was close. So warm. So handsome. Why didn’t I believe that he wanted me again? “I asked you to call me Bev.”
“Ah, you’re right.” Finally, he leaned forward enough to rest a hand on the arm of my chair. I could feel my notebook sliding from my lap, but I didn’t care. My eyes were locked onto his face, oh so close to mine. “Are you saying that you’re worried about me, Bev?”
I didn’t know what happened.
One moment we were both just sitting there, him leaning over me and me gazing at his face like someone enchanted, the next I was pushing myself upwards so that my lips were crashing against his.
I was crazy! I knew I was crazy. But before I could pull away, his strong arms wrapped around me and hauled me upwards, pulling me forward so I practically collapsed against him, my hands clinging to his front to keep me upright.
Our mouths moved against each other, heated and seeking and desperate. I had never been more glad that Mr. Fitzgerald like to keep his blinds drawn to minimize distractions, and let myself fall into the kiss.
It wasn’t long before he took the lead, adjusting me so that I was leaning on my tip toes, bent slightly backwards by one of his strong arms. If I wasn’t posted between his legs, with his strong thighs squeezing me ever so slightly, I might have toppled over. But he held me fast, lips almost bruising in their demand.
If I had my mouth to myself, I might have let out a giddy laugh. But as it were, all I could do was whimper slightly as he pulled away, catching my bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently. God, I felt like I was on fire, every cell in my body alit with excitement and pleasure.
His free hand, the one that wasn’t holding me steady, slid up my body. It didn’t manage to get a hold, the thick fabric of my outfit denying him skin, but it still left a trail of burning want as it glided over my form.
“God, I want you,” Mr. Fitzgerald whispered, his voice ragged as he looked at me with an expression that practically made my underwear flood. I didn’t think that anybody had ever looked at me like that, all heat and want. It made me shiver, but also burn at the same time.
“I do too,” I whispered back, nearly dizzy with everything that was happening.
And I knew it was stupid. I knew that this was everything that I had told myself not to do. Yet I had absolutely zero desire to stop it. I was going down in flames and I wanted nothing more than to be burned to ash.
Mr. Fitzgerald let out a sound akin to a growl and suddenly both of his hands were under my butt cheeks, hauling me up and off my feet. I let out a yelp in surprise, but then he turned and set me right down on the desk, wrapping my legs around his waist.
Oh.
If I was panting before, I was absolutely breathless now, my heart thundering a whole percussion session inside of my chest. He was so warm, so strong between my thighs. I didn’t think I’d ever have something so solid there, and it was making a strange sort of pressure pool in my abdomen.
Then he was kissing me again, mouth fire, teeth demanding. I melted into it, letting him teach me, mold me, take me higher than I had ever been. But as his lips moved from my lips, along my face, across my jaw then down my neck, I realized just what I was doing.
I was pretty sure that, if I didn’t stop this, that he was going to keep going. He had said he wanted me, and I’d said I wanted him too. I was pretty sure in normal adult speak that usually meant sex.
Sex.
Was I ready for that?
The question felt like cold water over my head and I stiffened. I didn’t think that I reacted that much to the uncertainty, but Mr. Fitzgerald seemed to notice immediately and pulled back.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine,” I assured him. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment, so I tried to kiss him, hoping that would distract him from seeing, but he just pulled away.
“No,” he said firmly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I said hurriedly, cursing myself. Why had I had to go and ruin a good thing. I wanted him to be kissing me again, not looking down at me with a mix of concern and confusion.
“Bev, remember what I said to you before? I have no desire to pressure anyone into anything. If you aren’t feeling this, we need to end it now.”
“Of course, I’m feeling it,” I snapped. “I’m the one that kissed you!”
He smirked at that, his lips bordering on red from our fervid making out. “You did. And while I appreciate that, I can tell you’re hesitant about something.” He cupped my face in his large hands, so warm and strong. “Tell me what’s bothering you. Is
it the office setting? Am I kissing you too hard?”
I shook my head, trying to think of what to say. But for much as I had built up walls all my life, I had never been much of a liar. In such an uncomfortable situation, what was better than the truth?
“I, uh, I keep getting really nervous because I’ve never done this before.”
He leaned in, his thumb pressing against my lip and pulling the bottom one down ever so slightly. “I think I might be a bit alarmed if you made a habit of kissing your boss in their office.”
I shook my head, trying to find the words. But I didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff very often, so my normally quick wit was flagging quite a bit. “No, I mean any of it.”
His hand slowly glided up one of my legs that was still wrapped around his waist. I could feel him pressing into me, and by him, I mostly meant his erection. It felt far too large and it was distracting me more than I would like to admit. “All of it?” he murmured, his lips dipping towards my ear to whisper. “Do you mean an office romance? Or just that I’m older?”
“No, I mean…I mean, all of the above!”
He chuckled lightly which only made me feel that much more embarrassed. He still didn’t get it. He thought I was joking, or just worried because he was my employer. He didn’t get that I-
Suddenly his eyes widened, and he gave me an incredulous look. “Wait, by all of the above, you don’t mean…” He shook his head and laughed. “You’re making it sound like you’re a virgin.”
I swallowed harshly, looking up at him with wide eyes. I didn’t know what it was about my expression that convinced him, but it seemed to do the trick because he was suddenly stepping back and re-buttoning himself.
“You’re a virgin,” he repeated flatly, as if he wanted me to confirm.
I nodded slowly, feeling the worst. I had tricked him. I hadn’t meant to… but somehow, I couldn’t help but feel like I had. But I hadn’t planned any of it! I hadn’t even been looking for any sort of romance until he had suddenly kissed me, and my mind had gotten hooked on the elation he made me feel.
“I’m sorry…” I murmured, my heart aching.
He stepped forward once he was put together again, his hands coming up to either side of my face, his thumbs stoking my cheeks. “You have nothing to be sorry for. But I’m not going to have your first time bent over my desk like some sort of naughty secretary.” I watched his face color a bit at that. “Even if that’s pretty appealing.”
“Y-you don’t mind?”
He shrugged. “I want you. You want me. I’ll admit, I’m a bit surprised and I certainly wasn’t looking for the responsibility, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting you.”
My heart throbbed at the idea. I didn’t understand why he could want me so badly, but I was beginning to believe that he really was earnest in his affections. I didn’t think anyone could fake how he kissed me.
“I… I’m not sure I’m ready to lose my virginity yet.”
“That’s fair, although it’s surprising to me that you haven’t experimented at least a little. Are the people you went to college with blind, or just stupid?”
I blushed a bit. “There might have been people who were interested. I was just too busy.”
“Too busy for sex?” he repeated dubiously. “College is supposed to be the time where you have all the time for sex.”
“Well, I was busy trying to graduate early.”
“Right,” he pressed another kiss to me, this one much gentler. “Tell me, my little assistant, although you’re not sure if you’d like to go any farther physically, would you like to go on a date with me?”
“A date?” I parroted, sounding like an utter idiot.
But Mr. Fitzgerald just nodded, completely unjudging. I managed to nod slightly, and he chuckled.
“Alright then, Bev. What I need for you to do is go home and get ready to be taken out like a lady.”
Everything was going so fast and I had to wonder if the whole day was some sort of fever dream that I would wake up from with a wicked sleep hang over. But even with all of that going, I didn’t lose all of my sass.
“And what would a hardass of a boss like you know about treating someone like a lady.”
He caught my defiant chin between his thumb and ring finger, holding me still as he kissed me giddy yet again. “I think I’d rather show you than tell you, if you trust me.”
“If I trust you?”
He nodded, his eyes hooded and burning through me in a way that I couldn’t describe. “I don’t think I’ve had a chance to tell you this, but you look absolutely delicious like this.”
“D-delicious?”
He nodded, his hands on my thighs again and slowly sliding upwards, taking my skirt ever so slightly. “Do you think you’d like to let me have a little taste?”
But we’d already been kissing so I didn’t catch what he meant. Looking at him in puzzlement, I allowed him to pull my hips to the very edge of the desk while gently pushing my chest back until I was leaning on my elbows.
And then he started to kneel between my legs and suddenly, very suddenly, I got it.
“Oh, oh! You don’t have to!” I blurted, and I was sure that my entire face was absolutely crimson. But he just pressed a kiss to my stocking covered thigh before looking over my body at me.
“But I want to, if you’re ready.”
Oh.
Was I ready?
I didn’t know.
I was definitely scared, nerves piling in my belly, but God if I didn’t want him more than I wanted oxygen.
“I want to try,” I said finally, voice weak with desire and trepidation.
He nodded, face full of a hunger that made me feel like the sexiest woman on earth. “If you change your mind at all, let me know. You can change your mind.”
I nodded, forcing myself to breathe. “I know.”
“Good.”
Mr. Fitzgerald returned to the task at hand and time seemed to do something funny as I watched him press his face into one of my thick thighs, his lips almost feeling like they burned a brand there.
He worked his way up, hands caressing and lips gently pushing against me until I felt him reach the top of my stockings and where they were held by my utilitarian garter belt.
Normally lacy, frilly things for sex and looking nice, mine was a solid black one with thick clips that I used purely for my office outfits. I had known that I could always buy regular, over the waist stockings, but being fat and tall for a woman always left me with either a much too low crotch, or a crotch that sat there it was supposed to but the tights themselves were incredibly baggy.
But now, with possibly most handsome man I’d ever seen between my thighs, it was hard not to feel a bit self-conscious as he mouthed the skin above one stocking, and then the other, lightning seeming to crackle through me as his lips finally touched my flesh.
His hands moved upwards, pushing my skirt that final bit out of the way before his fingers danced along the waistband of my underwear. He bent forward, his nose gently brushing against my still-covered center and I was reminded so sharply of my dream from earlier that I was surprised I didn’t soak his face right then and there.
Was all of it really happening? Was I dreaming again? I couldn’t quite tell, the world melting into buttery sweet waves of excitement and pleasure with only a hint of the usual trepidation that coiled in my gut whenever I thought about being sexual.
I lifted my hips slightly, allowing him to pull my panties down and off until they were past my knees. I settled back again, blushing vibrantly when I heard the quiet sound of them hitting the floor.
“You’re so pretty for me here,” Mr. Fitzgerald muttered as I swore I went that much more crimson. I thought about saying something snarky, but then one of his fingers gently glided through my slick center and I couldn’t help but gasp. “That’s my girl,” he practically purred into me.
I didn’t even realize that my eyes had closed at some point, so I nearly jol
ted when that finger stroked me again, ghosting over my entrance. Instead it almost felt like it was mapping me out, as well as warming me up to his touch so it wouldn’t be a shock when he-
“Holy shit!”
No, it was still definitely a surprise when he pressed a single kiss over that sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of my slit. I nearly bucked off the desk at the slight pressure, but one of his hands moved from my thigh to my hip, holding me in place.
Those perfect, warm lips pulled away and when I looked down at him, I could see a bit of shine clinging to his professionally-kept beard. It took another beat to realize that wetness was from me, and that if I kissed him, I would probably be able to feel and taste myself all over him.
“Is this alright?” he asked, voice rumbling in his chest and I could practically feel it through my thighs.
“Uh-huh.”
I couldn’t manage anything more eloquent, but he just chuckled at that and returned to his previous work. I lifted one of my hands, biting at my knuckles and reminding myself that two secretaries were just on the other side of all the shuttered glass.
He kissed me again, pressing a little harder against that button. Pleasure washed through me, almost drowning, and I was once more struck by the impossibility of it all. I was in my boss’ office, letting him eat me out like it was some sort of porno, and I was loving it.
Then his tongue came into play, sliding through me and swirling a bit at my entrance. I let out a strangled sort of sound which just made Mr. Fitzgerald chuckle against me. And boy, if that sound didn’t do things for me with its pleasant vibration.
His continued to move against me and the uncertainty I felt faded with each swipe of his tongue. Sure, I had heard plenty of my girlfriends talking about how good it felt to get head from someone who knew what they were doing, but I had always assumed that they were exaggerating.
They were not.
He was better than my fingers. Just as good as my vibrator and way less work. Just when I thought I had his game figured out, he picked up one of my legs and put it over his shoulder, allowing him to press his face even deeper into me.
