by Jet Mykles
HIS BOSS
©2002 Jet Mykles
He walked to her office, hardly knowing what to expect. What had he done now? His clients were happy. He didn’t know of any complaints. He thought he got along well with everyone else. What could she possibly want to speak to him alone about?
Truth be known, Paul was scared of his boss. She was one of those incredibly well-put-together ladies, inside and out. Elegant and refined as well as incredibly voluptuous, she wore expensive tailored suits over curves to make Venus envious. There wasn’t a man in the office who didn’t watch her pass the walkway through the cubicles and he suspected more than one had vivid fantasies about what could be done with her within the thick, solid walls of her corner office.
God knows he did! His particular favorite involved her bent over her desk, papers sprawled everywhere, while he rammed her from behind.
Swallowing as he struggled to get that tempting image from his mind, he continued to her office.
“Good luck, man,” whispered one of his friends as he walked past.
Paul ignored the waggled eyebrows.
He reached her door and stared at the fake wood grain. Please let this be good, he begged whatever gods might be listening, and knocked.
“Come.”
He entered her domain. He’d been there before, of course. Her huge office had not only a desk, but also a conference table that seated six. The window behind her took up one entire wall and looked down at the city below. Their 40-story building was the last in the row of tall buildings in the city so there were no others to block her view. The sun was a bright, angry orange-pink just now as it touched the horizon.
Was it that late?
“Sit,” she said, not curtly, but not warmly. She was typing, staring through her thin-rimmed glasses at the computer monitor.
He did, trying not to notice the strand of hair that always fell right next to her ear. That strand fascinated him, lived in his dreams. His fingers itched to push the wisp out of the way to allow his lips access to her diamond-studded earlobe.
Not now! He thought in a panic. His crotch buddy was starting to react to his uncontrollable thoughts.
She finished typing and used the mouse to close her documents. Her fingers were long, the nails filed rather short, he thought. Clear nail polish with just the ends done white. A French manicure? He thought he recalled one of his sisters telling him that was what it was called once.
Suddenly, her eyes met his. The glasses were no shield against that penetrating gaze. He froze like a rabbit suddenly confronted with a fox.
She smiled. “Relax, Paul,” she said, scooting her high-backed, leather chair back so she could get up. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”
He chuckled feebly as his eyes followed her. She circled her desk and passed him to the door.
And closed it.
If he wasn’t in trouble, why’d she close it? Was someone else in trouble? That distracted him. He ran down the list of his office buddies, wondering who she wanted him to snitch on.
“Paul, really, relax,” she laughed, watching his face.
He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess I’m just caught off-guard by your wanting to see me.”
She stood by the door, one hand still grazing the handle. Facing him, her stockinged legs were slightly apart. One hip was cocked, giving her pose a slightly rakish demeanor.
God she was hot!
She nodded, reaching up to remove her glasses. “I can understand that.”
But she didn’t explain. Instead, she crossed over to the conference table, leaning that beautiful, curved ass against the edge. The glasses were placed on the table beside her, then she braced both hands on the side of the table beside her hips. The pose brought her shoulders into a slight hunch, which caused her loose, linen blouse to gape a bit in the front. No hetero-, human male could have avoided the glance at the top of her pale breast which was almost visible through the gap.
He didn’t think she caught him.
“I have some news,” she said, looking at the floor. Or at her pretty ankles, which were now crossed before her.
“Sounds ominous,” he joked.
She looked up, a lovely crooked smile on her lips. Barely any lipstick there. Barely any makeup at all. Another incredibly wonderful thing about her.
“I’m leaving the company.”
His mouth gaped open. That wasn’t possible! She was one of the founders. She and her reputation were one of the reasons he was as the company at all. She’d hired him, she’d trained him.
“Why?”
Still with that crooked grin, she gazed toward the dwindling sunset. The fiery brilliance gave her an other-worldly quality. “My heart’s not in it anymore,” she said dreamily. “This used to be fun. Now, it’s work, and not work that I enjoy.”
He could see where she’d be bored. The woman was brilliant, there was no argument about that.
“Are you going somewhere else?”
“Why?” She glanced at him, almost shyly. “Would you come with me?”
“In a heartbeat,” he said without hesitation.
Her full smile warmed his heart. What would he do without her?
“That’s nice,” she said, mostly to herself. “I appreciate your loyalty.”
“It’s totally sincere,” he assured her.
“Thank you. But, no. I’m going to take some time off.”
His hopes crashed. She was leaving and he didn’t even have a hope of following her. And she could probably survive for quite some time on her own, and have a bevy of offerings when she decided to return to work.
“Well. Congratulations.”
She laughed, full and rich. “Oh Paul, don’t sound so enthusiastic.”
“Yes, but… You’re leaving.”
“And I want to recommend that you take my place.”
“Me?!”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t want to trust this to anyone else.”
Pride swelled even through rapidly encroaching panic.
“Thanks.”
He was so distracted, that he didn’t watch her cross the room until she stood before him. Now her delectable ass was parked against the edge of her desk, her legs not inches from him. He could reach out and touch her. He could smell her. And the panic in his chest didn’t even allow him to enjoy it.
“I do have a problem, however.”
He looked up into those deep brown eyes, knowing his own panic showed. He tried to take comfort in her smile. “What’s that?”
“I might have a problem in recommending you.”
He frowned. “Why?”
She hesitated. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that was hesitation he saw, a bit of fear in her eyes.
“I have this… obsession.”
His frown deepened. What was she talking about?
Staring at her pointed leather shoe, she watched it as it moved closer to his leg. His racing mind didn’t immediately process that she’d placed her foot in between his slightly spread legs and was rubbing the inside of her ankle against the inside of his shin.
“My obsession involves you.”
Now he was watching her leg. Her stockings had little glimmers in them, which shone in the waning light. Her tailored skirt hiked up over her knee due to her movement.
“Me?” he heard himself say, fascinated now by the shape of her knee.
“Yes.”
He shivered at the huskiness of her voice. Slowly, he turned his face up toward hers. She was staring still at her leg but, sensing him watching, she met his gaze. Those brown eyes were smoldering.
“I couldn’t do anything when I was your boss,” she said, already using the past tense, “but now that that’s almost over, I want you to know that I want you. I’ve wanted
you since our first interview.”
“You too?”
Her brows arched, that half-smirk twitching the corners of her mouth again. “You mean, you...?”
“Jesus, Angela, a man’d have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to want you.”
“And you are none of those.”
He was now grinning.
A devilish tilt took her mouth. He wasn’t aware why until he felt toes searching in his crotch. A glance down showed she’d shed her left shoe and her stockinged toes were gently prodding his growing erection.
“That looks uncomfortable,” she said, gesturing with her chin at the bulge in his pants.
“It is.”
“Mind if I do something about it?”
He screwed his eyes shut, groaning. “Angela, please tell me this isn’t a wet dream, because it sure isn’t fair if it is.”
He felt her drawing near and shot his eyes open when he felt her cheek brush his. Her lips softly kissed his earlobe. “It’s not,” she breathed.
His hands reached up of their own accord to drag her head back to where he could see her face. The hunger in her expression matched his and he felt it full force when he pulled her into a kiss.
Sweet lips, the sweetest of peaches. They parted to allow access to the hot, wet recesses of her mouth. Their tongues met in a passionate duel.
She was in his lap now. He thought he pulled her there, but she could have climbed in of her own accord. Her surprisingly strong arms were about his neck. His hand sought out and squeezed one soft melon breast, producing an agonized groan from deep within her.
She pulled her head back. He let his dip so his lips could find the pulse at her neck, his fingers still tweaking the hard nipple he’d found through her blouse.
“God, Paul, I need you.”
“I’m all yours, boss,” he muttered into her neck.
She pushed him back so he was forced to look at her. Her hair was now mussed from his frantic tugging, and her eyes were positively alight. The sunlight was gone now so her face was all shadowy against the backdrop of the twilit sky.
She ran a finger across his swollen lips. “Yes. I’m still your boss.”
He got the picture immediately, and matched her smile. “Whatever you say, boss.”
She nodded, little teeth biting her bottom lip. “You have to do what I say.”
“I do.”
She kissed him briefly, pulling back when he would take more. She stood, standing between his knees. He watched her remove her jacket and toss it on the desk. She also removed the clip from her hair to allow the surprisingly long, tawny brown locks to fall free.
She pointed at the side button of her skirt. “Take it off.”
Trying not to be too eager, he obediently reached up to unbutton her. She shimmied her hips a bit to help him pull it down.
He gasped. The linen shirt was long enough to cover her hips, but it stopped just above the lines where her thigh-high stockings hugged her hips. The garter clips were clearly visible.
“Oh my god,” he groaned, reaching to touch.
She slapped his hand, lightly. “Not yet.” She pointed to the buttons of her shirt. “Now this. And don’t pop any buttons, mind.”
Her tone was driving him nuts. That, along with the sight of her and now the very clear, very sexy smell of her–a woman in heat–and he was surprised he could still think!
Savoring the moment as best he could, he unbuttoned her blouse from the bottom up. He saw the lace panties and could do nothing about them. Nothing about the fact that they were almost completely see-thru and some of her neatly trimmed pubic hair stuck through the lace. He reached her breast area and shook. The bra matched the panties, nearly all of it an open-mesh lace that left nothing to the imagination.
“I bought the bra and panties just for you,” she said as he finished with the buttons and spread the blouse open to feast his eyes. “I hope you like them.”
“Oh, Angela, I...”
“Not yet,” she said, slapping his hand again, a bit more firmly. Removing the blouse from his grasp, she let it slide down her arms to puddle with the skirt at her feet. Her long fingered hands slid over the front of her panties, up her rounded tummy to her ample breasts, pinching the nipples.
“I’ve never worn a thong before,” she said as she turned slowly to give him a view of the back. Each perfect globe of her ass was exposed, tempting him with pink goodness. “But I thought this was a special occasion.”
“I want to eat you so bad,” he said, cringing at his crassness but unable to think of anything more romantic.
She didn’t seem to mind. She pointed to one of her ass cheeks. “Kiss,” was the order.
Gladly, he leaned forward to press his lips against her soft, yielding flesh. His lips parted and he was biting her softly, even as his hand rose of their own accord to brace either side of her hips. The smell of her sex made his mouth water. He groaned.
“The other.”
Obedient, he switched to the other buttock, then took it upon himself to run his pointed tongue up the crack of her ass. He felt her shiver.
“Sorry, boss,” he said into her lower back, his hands now on each butt cheek and squeezing softly. “That’s not what you told me to do.”
He thought she checked herself and smiled that he had distracted her from their game.
“That’s right,” she said now, all stern. She turned back around. Deftly, she unhooked the four clasps of her garters, then pointed to the sides of her panties. “Now these.”
Licking his lips, he hooked each of his thumbs in the strings on her waist and pulled them down. A hand on his forehead kept him from putting his mouth to her sex, but he got close enough to get a good whiff. Also, he’d seen that the crotch of those panties was soaked.
She stepped out of the panties and away from him, striding slowly to the conference table. He took the moment to bring the panties to his nose. If he’d ever fainted in his life, it would have been right then.
“Come here.”
He opened his eyes to see her seated on the conference table beside one of the plush leather chairs.
He went to stand before her, dropping into the chair when she pointed to it. He resisted the urge to touch her, knowing now that she couldn’t keep this up much longer.
She shifted to put both of her feet on either arm of his chair. The garters were re-fastened now.
The position opened her sex to him and he gripped the edge of the table hard, willing to show her how difficult it was not to touch her.
She stroked his hair a moment to let him get a good look, then gripped his hair and pushed him down. “Now, work on this.”
Sighing with bliss, he leaned down. But it was his turn to tease her. He kissed her mound and nuzzled the warm, damp cracks where her legs met her hips. He breathed on the moist wetness before ever touching, then pointed his tongue to touch the peeping bud that was already hard and demanding attention.
“Lick me, now,” she ordered, breathy.
He slowly complied, sinking his tongue deliciously into her folds. His groan matched hers as he pumped his head a bit, allowing his tongue to probe her. The hand in his hair convulsed, but she was willing to let him do as he would, trusting him to please her. And pleasing her was utmost on his mind as he set to his scrumptious meal.
His tongue swirled and dipped, prodded and lapped. He trapped her bud against its own folds and relentlessly fiddled it until her body began to shudder. He took a good hold on her hips as they began to buck. Her moans were intense.
Then the rocket went off. He nearly lost his grip and had to hang on with mouth and hands as her hips quaked. Her moans were muffled and he risked a glance to see that she was biting her fist, trying her best not to scream.
Eventually, she subsided. “Paul,” she moaned. She was now laid flat on the shiny table surface, arms akimbo above her head.
“May I make a suggestion, boss?” he asked, slowly sliding a thumb into her still pulsing pussy.
“I could be wrong, but it’s my opinion that this–“ he wiggled his thumb at the entrance of her channel, eliciting a groan from her, “–is way too empty.”
“Do you have a suggestion of what could fill it?”
“I do. May I show it to you?”
“Please.”
He stood and unbuckled his slacks. He let them fall as he loosened his tie. She sat up and helped to unbutton his shirt, starting at the top while he started at the bottom.
She sighed appreciation as he let the shirt fall and he thanked his own wisdom for all those hours working out.
“I think I see where this is going,” she said, staring pointedly at his jockeys.
“I’ve prepared this for you, boss. I hope you like it.” And he pulled down his shorts.
She studied his hard-on, lips pursing prettily as she considered it. “Large,” she commented. He gasped as she gripped it firmly in one hand. “And hard.” The hand shifted from the root to the tip and her thumb ran delicately over the head. He couldn’t suppress the groan. “I think I like it,” she said, smiling up at him. She kissed him briefly. “Mind if I give it a once over before we give it a go?”
“You’re the boss,” he rasped.
She pushed slightly with her free hand, and he fell back into the chair, grateful she’d let his cock go as he fell. She went to her knees while reaching behind her to unclasp her bra. She released her breasts just as she bent over the swollen head of his cock.
He gripped the arms of the chair, moaning. Those perfect lips were rimming his cock as her wet tongue worked over it, coating it with saliva. He had not dared to think that such a woman could or would give a good blow-job, but this woman was proving to be the mistress of everything. She soon had him writhing and moaning.
He didn’t want to stop her, but he wanted to plunge into her more than he wanted to come in her mouth.
“Boss, please,” he begged, continuing their game.
“Mmmm?” she mumbled over his cock.
“I think any more testing will ruin it. Could we try it out now?”
She swallowed him one more time, making him gasp as he felt his cock hit the back of her throat, then slowly released him. She stood, perfect breasts jiggling.
