11 comments/ 87061 views/ 68 favorites A Hard Boss is Good to Find By: hisperfectgirl He lived with his girlfriend. I had a boyfriend. But when we were alone in the office, it was killing me to keep my hands off him. One day, he came in and closed the door. I turned from the layout desk because I heard: first, the door close, and second, the decisive click of the lock. Josh was leaning back, both hands still on the doorknob. He was staring at my breasts thoughtfully. There was a reason we always left the door open to the hallway when we worked: Lust. So it was very good news that he had closed the door. Better still, that he had locked it. We had been teasing each other for almost eight weeks now, ever since he'd hired me to put together The Austin Guide for Students. I'd wanted him the moment I met him... because he was tall, because he was smart, and because he was proportioned just right. He was 6'3", with slender, almost delicate fingers. I knew he had a lovely, strong cock between those long legs of his. And from his unabashed, sexually-charged response to me, it was obvious that he knew exactly what to do with it. My pulse increased. I put down the Exacto-knife with suddenly shaky fingers. --------------------- Two months earlier, the job interview had been brief. "Can you paste up?" he asked. I unzipped my portfolio, spread it open so it was right side up to me. He had to get up from behind the desk to stand next to me while I paged through the examples. "Can you design ads?" he asked. I turned the page, and showed him my ads. "I designed them. After I sold them. I designed the ads, I specced them, I typeset them. I can do it all." "You can do it all," he said. Looking up at him, I became enchanted with his lips. They were full, sweet, and... athletic. I wanted them on my pink nipples, massaging, kissing, sucking. I thought about how the tip of his tongue would circle my nipple tentatively as he closed those full lips around it. I knew he would suck hard suddenly, so I would make a little yelp of desire. I could imagine his thumb and forefinger gently squeezing my other nipple, pinching just barely as it became harder. I wanted him to keep slowly rolling my hard, sensitive nipple between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing a little more, relaxing for a second, then pinching harder still. "You do it all... well?" he asked. I had taken a quick breath during my little daydream. When he started the question, I made myself look up at him. By the time he finished it, he was looking at my lips. I enjoyed watching him as he considered taking my mouth. I wanted to drop my head back slightly, step into his chest and feel his tongue pushing past my teeth. Instead, I sighed. I took a half step away from him, and looked down at the portfolio. "Even write the copy and everything?" he wanted to know. I turned toward him. "You will not believe what I can do..." I said, narrowing my eyes a little and lifting my eyebrows the slightest bit. "...and you will not believe how well I can do it." We were matched in the flirting department. It was his move. He turned so we were facing each other, inches apart. There are those men who really like women. They like the way we smell, how we giggle, how our hips move when we dance. They like our softness and our delicate eyelashes. They love watching our lips and our tongues when we eat ice cream cones on really hot days. There are those men who love the pursuit, the sly winning-over, the capture, the capitulation, the final and ultimate possession. I love it when their eyes linger on my lips, or when they can't stop looking at my breasts. But I get a little testy when they pursue for too long. I really like the fucking. Games of pursuit and capture can take up way too much time. "Hire me now," I said. "Have me later." "Jesus!" he said, looking away. "Jesus. Okay. You're hired. That's your desk. Go to HR now. No, wait... take some old copies of the Guide to look at. Come in tomorrow around 11. And Sarah, can you put your hair up into one of those high, sexy ponytails?" "Like this?" I put down my portfolio and, standing in front of him, used both hands to gather and lift my long, dark hair into a ponytail. As I raised my arms, my blouse pulled tight across my breasts. I looked down and was pleased to see that my nipples were already hard and obvious through my bra and my blouse. Josh was staring at them. He was smiling. "Touch them," I said. "Please." He said nothing, simply ran his fingers across my nipples, then used both hands to cup and squeeze my breasts. He rubbed his hands in little circles, intensifying the pressure, then backing off, then intensifying it again. I bit my bottom lip lightly, a habit I have when I am beginning to get aroused. I was delighted to find out that I was right about him. He wasn't just grabbing my breasts because I offered them. He was lightly massaging my tits and admiring them. While he was pleasuring himself by running his hands over my breasts, he was making sure that I was getting just as much out of it as he was. "That's really nice," I said. "But I'm going to have to get going." He put his hands on my waist. I let my hair drop, shaking my head a little to keep it out of my eyes. Josh didn't move his hands, so I gave him a look. "Oh, you're a pouter," he said, putting his forefinger on my lips. I relaxed my mouth slightly. He pushed his finger in. I sucked on it while he moved it the least little bit in and out. Good sex is such fun. The promise of good sex can be just as much fun. Although I didn't want this foreplay to stop, I moved back, fussed at tucking my blouse in, and picked up the portfolio. "Ok, then," he said. "See you tomorrow. And when you are talking to HR, you should be thinking about how it will feel when the tip of my tongue is very lightly scraping across your right nipple." After my first week of work, we celebrated by going to happy hour on Friday. "What would you do if I put my foot in your crotch?" he asked. "Just make sure to take your loafer off first," I said. We were facing each other across the table. I shifted my ass on the bench, moving around so my thighs were farther apart. "You are so bad," he said. "Did you know I have a girlfriend?" I looked around the bar. "Is she here?" I asked, a little concerned. The girlfriend of a man who so obviously loved flirting could be hyper-vigilant, aggressive, even downright dangerous. He put his sock-covered foot under my long, hippie skirt and kissed my ankle briefly with his toes. Then he moved them slowly up to the back of my knee. As they pulsed against that ticklish soft skin, I straightened my leg just a little. It felt like there was a direct electrical connection from the back of my knee to my clit. When he moved his toes slowly from side to side, it was as though he was moving them across the delicate skin of my labia. I tried to stare him down but couldn't because I was distracted by the sparklers going off in my cunt. Then I tried to look nonchalant. I thought about trying to break the spell of his seduction. I thought I might counter his move, run my toes up the inside of his leg, but the truth was that I didn't want to move. I was lost to his touch. All I wanted to do was let him know I wanted more. So I licked my lips, and tilted my head back. I bent both knees just a tad more. I opened my legs just a little wider, and lifted them the slightest fraction of an inch off the bench. He started to push his foot between my legs toward my crotch. I closed my eyes to better concentrate on the erotic sensations on my inner thighs. "Look at me," he said. I opened my eyes, but didn't want to look right at him. I gazed instead at the shoulder seam of his button-down shirt, not really seeing anything. I was loving the arousal, focusing on my mounting excitement as his foot slowly moved along my inner thigh toward my sweet, suddenly wet crotch. With those long, long legs it would not be a problem for his toes to reach my clit. I hoped he could see the sweat between my breasts. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked. I finally made myself meet his eyes. I slumped down slightly on the bench, twisting my hips the littlest bit so my engorged clit pushed against his big toe. I wanted him to keep teasing me. "Do you want me to tell you where your big toe is?" I asked him, delighted that I could move my hips in tiny circles and produce some intensely good sensations. "Your sock might be too thick for you to tell," I continued. "But there is a whole lot of wetness going on down there." "Hey, Sarah!" My boyfriend was coming toward the table, holding two bottles of PBR. I was totally startled. I sat up quickly, and pushed my butt against the back of the booth, withdrawing from contact with Josh's foot. I was so obviously rattled that Josh caught on. Before Jimmy reached the table, he had his foot stuffed neatly back into his loafer. "I didn't know you'd be here," said Jimmy. I moved over to let him sit down. "Well, in that case, who's the other bottle for?" I asked as I took it from him. I introduced Josh to Jimmy, Jimmy to Josh. "Josh's my new boss I told you about." They leaned forward, shook hands. As they settled back, I finished the first bottle, traded it to Jimmy for his full one, tipped my head back and drank most of the second one before taking a breath. "Damn," I said as the two men watched each other. "Let's go dance, Jimmy." Jimmy took the bottle from me, finished what little was left in it, and set it down without taking his eyes off Josh. I scooted along the bench. Jimmy reached toward me, grabbed my hand, hard, and pulled me to my feet. "See you Monday," I said over my shoulder as Jimmy led me toward the dance floor. I made him stop where I knew Josh could see us. It was a slow bluesy song. As I moved closer to Jimmy, I pulled his hands down along my back to my ass. It turned me on to know that Josh was watching me grind against my boyfriend's crotch. I made sure he had a good view of Jimmy's hands as they groped my ass. If Josh was the kind of flirt I was sure he was, he would be slouching back in the booth and toying with his drink while he stared bemusedly at my back. He would be imagining that those were his hands on my ass. And he would know absolutely that I could feel his hands as they touched me. I pretended I was dancing for him. Then I pretended I was dancing with him... that he was pulling my skirt up in the back, little by little, until it was all bunched up. I imagined him pushing under the elastic of my panties, his fingertips brushing my ass. I shivered, thinking about how he would lean over me a little more, grab my ass cheeks full on with both hands, pulling them up and spreading them just the least little bit. Luxuriating in that thought made my mouth open... made me arch my back and push my crotch against Jimmy's. "You're a little fuckie bunny right now," said Jimmy. "We should do this more often." "I'm really excited to see you today," I said. I liked the new job. There were lots of different things to do. There were lots of different ways to tease Josh. When he stood too close to me, I didn't shift to re-establish a polite distance. Instead, I leaned into him without saying anything. When I got close like that, he would shift slightly, turning incrementally toward me. I could feel his cock twitch... interested, alert, hungry. My pussy would answer with a sudden fullness between my legs. His presence electrified me, I don't know why. Whenever I saw him, I felt what can only be called a pussy-twinge, kind of like tasting vinegar. There's the initial touching of your tongue to the vinegar, then there's a tang and your whole tongue becomes alive, and then you salivate. These instantaneous internal twinges could be so strong that I had to, a couple of times, reach out for the nearest table or piece of large furniture for support. Sometimes all I could do was close my eyes, bite my bottom lip and breathe slowly. "Josh," I called him over after we'd worked together for a few weeks. "Come here and let me know what you think of this." I was facing the layout table, holding onto the edge with both hands. He pretended to make some notes at his desk, then came over and stood next to me. His hands were on his hips. He leaned back, putting his weight on his heels. Then, bouncing a little, he rested his crotch lightly against the back of my hand. We stared intently at the page I was working on. I turned my hand over and kneaded his prick ever so gently. "Is there a problem I'm looking at?" He finally asked softly. "Oh, no," I said, fondling him brazenly. "Everything seems to be just fine." He grunted and was suddenly standing behind me with his large hands on my waist. He pulled me back hard against his crotch. "I want you," he said simply. Then he pinned my arms to my sides by wrapping his arms around me, one directly under my breasts, the other above. He was squeezing tightly, and pressing into my back with his now-hard cock. Even with the air conditioning on, there was sweat on my shirt. We were both breathing raggedly. "Fuck me," I said. He put a hand over my mouth. I licked his palm. He shuddered, then pushed the side of his hand between my teeth. I bit him softly. I was writhing in delight. He moved his lower arm up until it was touching my nipples. Then he started to move it back and forth, as if he was playing a great living violin. The sensation was unbelievably intense. And oh, so supremely pleasurable. It was my turn to shudder deliciously. Someone was whistling happy show tunes. It was his girlfriend, coming down the hall to pick him up for lunch. I never knew if she really was that damned happy, or if she was giving him enough time to pat himself down, shake it off, and slow his pulse. He quickly released me. I stood staring at the table. He said, "Put your head down. Pretend you're taking a nap or something." Two days later, he came to work wearing only a pair of green cotton gym shorts. So much skin exposed. I was distracted. I wanted to play with his chest hairs. I needed to kiss his back. I wanted to stroke his stomach and his abs, run my hands up and down his lovely thighs. When I thought he wasn't looking, I was gazing at his upper arms. He knew I was entranced, because I had stopped whatever work I had been trying to do and was sitting on my work stool, my hand over my mouth, staring at him. He may have guessed that I was imagining what it would be like to explore all that skin with my tongue and my lips. Slowly. Tenderly. Exploring. Josh stood and stretched. Then he paused, looking concerned, as if he should come up with a good reason for getting up. Was he going to get a drink of water or a new pen? Or make sure the waxer was turned on? He still seemed to be casting about for a good reason for coming to see me when he reached me three short steps later. Giving up, he grinned sheepishly, said nothing and simply stood in front of me. I reached out and ran my hands up and down his arms slowly. I liked how he had more hair on his forearms, less on the upper arms. I rubbed his chest, moving my palms so his nipples kissed first the heart lines on both my palms, then the love lines. From there, I stroked lower and lower until I touched the elastic waist of his shorts. I took a deep breath and tickled the hair at the top of his pubic patch. "Oh," he said. "Ooooh. Yes." I turned him around gently and slowly ran my hands over his back, using my fingertips to make little circles. I moved closer to trace his shoulder blades with little angel licking kisses, up and down. He leaned back, sighing. I put my arms around his naked chest. When I felt how warm his skin was against my inner arms, I was transported. I wanted more of his skin on mine. I wanted to press my naked breasts, my stomach against his back. I wanted full body skin contact. But I kept my clothes on. I just kissed his neck, then ran my tongue down along his spine to the top of his shorts, where I nipped at the small of his back with little devil bites. I bit and sucked just enough to leave a gallery of barely bruised baby hickies. I let my fingers steal inside the front of his shorts to touch his hidden shaft. I touched it and tapped it and stroked it until he groaned. His prick grew stiffer and longer until it finally peeked out from under his shorts. I made sure I got pre-cum all over my fingers. Then I made him suffer as I licked it off. I was delicate, cleaning one finger at time. Any man knows the look on my face as I licked, lovingly, each fingertip. Then I sucked and licked from the fingertip down to the first knuckle. Then I licked and sucked down to the second knuckle. I finally slipped each finger all the way into my mouth. Then I closed my eyes and swallowed. I would go the ladies' room and come back without my bra. Josh would get up from his desk to critique the layout, placing his hand on the layout table to point out a problem. I would move closer to see what he was pointing at, closer and closer, until my breast was lightly kissing, barely touching his hand. And then he would turn his hand over to cup my breast, pull at it, stroke with his fingers. One day during our third week of working together, I wore a T-shirt that was white, very thin, and very tight across my tits. I went out to get a Coke, slipped into the ladies' room, stuffing my bra into my big purse before I returned. Instead of stroking my breast through the material as he had done before, Josh ran his hand up inside my shirt, fondling my naked breast, catching my nipple between two fingers. I had been desiring the feel of his fingers directly on my skin for so long that when he touched me like that, it surprised me into orgasm. He was behind me instantly, pushing me facedown onto the layout table, shoving my legs apart, and pressing his cock against my asscheeks. He was still clenching my breast as he humped against my ass like a horny dog, coming almost immediately with a strangled "oooof!" His relaxed body weight crushed me against the table while he rested, panting. I could feel his heart beating like crazy against my spine. After a few more deep breaths, he pulled his hand out of my shirt and went back to his desk. "I can smell you from here," he said finally. "And I smell damned good," I said. "That you do," he agreed. Josh liked to stand behind me when I was bent over the layout table, working. We both knew he couldn't be supervising; he couldn't see a damn thing I was doing. I liked having him so aroused and so close. I liked the way his sexual heat would warm my back. Sometimes I would straighten up to stand with my eyes closed, swaying slightly from side to side. The first few times I did that, he stood quietly without moving until I returned to my work. Then he meekly returned to his desk. Somewhere around the fourth week, he placed his hands on my waist as I swayed. He stepped closer, pulling me to his chest, wrapping his arms around my stomach. We swayed sweetly back and forth until a gunshot rush of excitement shot through my cunt, making me groan. He slid one of his hands immediately between my legs, prodding my pulsating clit. I felt like a mare in heat, wet and frantic. I moved my feet farther apart, opening my legs for him. I leaned forward and lifted my ass up. He put a hand on my lower back so I wouldn't move, then stroked my high ponytail a few times before wrapping it around his other hand. He pulled on it a little. He started breathing faster. "I want to ride you from behind like a whore," he said, pulling harder, forcing my head back and my tits out. "I really wish you were naked right now. Your tits would look so great." My intense quiet cry of submission and desire and fear and yearning surprised us both. A Hard Boss is Good to Find "Oh my god," he said quietly, pulling my head back even further. "You should know that I will have all of you very, very soon." Holding my ponytail in his fist, he moved his other hand from my crotch up to my stomach, then pushed it in under my clothes. My pussy was sopping wet. As he pushed a finger down either side of my clit, I opened my legs even wider. He is almost a foot taller than I am, so he really had to bend down to get his fingers up inside me. When he got two in, he began vigorously finger-fucking my cunt, his palm smacking my clit. Then he grunted and pushed a third finger into my pussy. I came so hard it almost hurt. The mind-blowing fact that a man I found irresistible was at my back with his fingers shoved up my pussy intensified all the sensations. All I could smell was cigarettes, Irish Spring, coffee, and lust. All I could feel was spasm after spasm, his weight on my back and his lips on my neck. Even though it was hard not to shriek or fall down, I was having one of the best orgasms of my life. I was almost in tears when it was over. I didn't lift my head from the desk. Josh slowly straightened up. He smiled as he pulled a white handkerchief from a pants pocket and meticulously wiped off his hand. After sniffing the handkerchief and making an approving face, he matter-of-factly reached in and cleaned off my inner thighs. Then he worked the handkerchief up between my legs. "I would need another two or three to soak up all those lovely juices," he said. "I don't know if it's rude or not, but I just love the way your cunt smells," he continued, refolding his handkerchief. "Do you have any idea how strong you get when you are aroused? It is one beautiful perfume." He was so undeniably sexy. He took another clean handkerchief from his pocket and attentively toweled off my back. "And I love how soft this skin is," he said, stroking my back as he dried it. "It's a lot softer than most women's. Your back is as sweet and as soft as your inner thighs. I want to kiss them, those thighs..." He started to lift up the back of my skirt. I finally came to myself. "No. Dammit, Josh, stop it. We're at work." I wiped the table down with paper towels before going to the ladies' room to put myself back together. Two hours later, he stepped behind me, grabbed my ponytail and bent me backwards again. When he felt me shudder deliciously, he didn't let go. He said, "I could tell you liked that, you little slut." He was quiet for a few minutes, holding me in that position. Then he started rubbing my tits. I was mesmerized, lost in daydreams of men and cocks and kisses and orgasms and bliss. Suddenly he yanked my head back and grabbed my throat. As he started to tighten his fingers, I came. Helplessly and hard. My pussy ached for his cock. "I love this. I hate this. I have to sit down," was all I could say. "I will do that to you," he said, standing over me and petting my hair. "I want to enter you from behind. You'll be standing at the kitchen sink and I'll tell you to take your clothes off one at a time and when you're naked, I'll enter you from behind whether you're ready or not. I want to pull your hair and ride you so hard until you're on the edge of coming. Then I'll yank on that ponytail and tighten my fingers on your throat until you come like crazy. I'll be pumping you and feeling you spasm and feeling you come on my cock. Oh my god, Sarah. I will have all of you so very soon." This man was driving me crazy, making me want him in so many ways. It was obvious my desire excited him. And as he grew more excited, my frenzy for him increased. We fed on each other's desire. When he touched me, it was like throwing a match at a pool of gasoline. When I touched him, it was like throwing a glass of gasoline at a fire. Two wrongs don't make a right. But they make a hell of a big fire. It was such a turn-on to have found a man as passionate as I was, someone equal to my high level of physicality, a sexual soul mate already playing those teasing games I loved. That night, at home, I started to do the dishes like every other night. But then I imagined his voice saying "Oh my god, Sarah. You should know that I will have all of you very, very soon. "Bend over now, but keep your knees straight. Bend over so I can see that fine ass pushing against your jeans, bend over and take your socks off." I did, keeping my ass in the air, and pulled my socks off one at a time. Barefoot, I ran a little hot water into the sink. I wanted him behind me, watching me as I put the first few dishes into the water. I could feel his heat and desire on my skin. It was as if we were in the office, and he was standing behind me "supervising." "Take your shirt off. Right now." I could have sworn he spoke those words, even though I knew he wasn't there. With warm, soapy hands I pulled my shirt up over my head, dancing along with the 60s tunes on the oldies radio. "Duke, Duke, Duke. Duke of Earl, Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl." It was a song that made me happy. It was easy to dance to with its bouncy beat. And who cared what the lyrics meant. "Nothing can stop the Duke of Earl." In my daydream, Josh moves toward me, inexorably advancing. Like that scene in the movies where twin spotlights pick out the two individuals who as they are magnetically drawn together... while everyone else, and everything else in the high school gym fades away. Happy and soapy and horny, I was dreaming that Josh was in my apartment... dreaming that he was telling me to take off my jeans. I undid the button at the top and pulled the zipper down slowly, feeling my excitement rise. When my jeans were totally unzipped, I turned away from the sink to face him (in case he had walked in unannounced). I lingered there with slightly bent knees, cupping my crotch lightly with one hand, moving my fingers across my panties as if I were playing a piano. I wanted to be kneeling on a table in front of him, unzipped, wet, open, available. I wanted to be kissing his lovely lips, tonguing his open mouth while his fingertips brushed my panty-clad cunt. I slid my hands inside my jeans, pushing them and my underwear down along my swiveling hips to the floor. The feel of my fingertips along the outside of my legs turned me on even more. Naked now from the waist down, I had to run my fingers between my legs, shivering in mounting delight when I felt how wet I was. That was part of the magic of this connection. When I thought of him, or imagined that I smelled him, I could feel the blood rushing into my crotch. It would get as wet and melting as snow in July. Turning back to the sink, I reached over to get a rubber band from a drawer. I watched myself as, wearing only a bra, I lifted my arms to gather my hair into the kind of high, sexy ponytail Josh liked. I could see in the reflection how obvious it was when I bit my lower lip in excitement. I had always thought it was a subtle kind of thing. But I realized that anyone who knew what they were looking at could tell when I was getting turned on. I kept moving my hips from side to side, rubbing my thighs together to excite myself further. I could hear him saying "..and when you're naked, I'll enter you from behind whether you're ready or not." Still swaying to the music, I took off my bra and spread my legs farther apart. Then I lifted my ass up like I was wearing high, high heels. Standing naked at the kitchen sink on my tiptoes, I was waiting for him to push my shoulders down, which I knew would tilt my ass up even further. Which I knew would expose more of my pink, glistening cunt. I cupped my breasts and offered them to the reflection in the window. The nipples were hard and tender. I wanted his mouth on them, I wanted him sucking one and kneading the other and biting my shoulder and opening my legs and pulling my hair and fucking me like that and coming up for air and then opening me again and taking all I had. And then doing it again. And then doing me again. Kneading my breasts felt good. I pulled on my nipples. I ran one hand up the side of my face, up to my ponytail and pulled at it, tugging just a little. It was as if I could feel that tugging in my cunt. I gave in, standing right there in the kitchen, one hand playing with myself while I imagined Josh's cock pressing at the outer edges of my pussy. Then I felt it slowly moving closer and closer to penetration until he slid into me from behind. I wanted his cock so badly. I put one foot up on the counter, leaned forward and bent my leg until my head rested on the counter as well. More than ready for fucking, I entered myself with three fingers of one hand and massaged and stroked my clit with the other. I came quickly. But it was a lonely orgasm, wilting away almost immediately. My body's response to my fingers and his was so different. Men's fingers are thicker, rougher, and stronger. My cunt responds with more contractions per orgasm, and it feels like the contractions are closer together. I don't know how you would measure it, but when a man's fingers are pushing into my cunt, I always come harder with them than I do with mine. I wanted more. I needed more. I needed him inside me. Coming. Soon. The dishwater was cold by now. I washed my hands in the empty side of the double sink, then let the standing water drain. As the new, heated water rushed into the sink to cover the dishes, I added dish detergent and sincerely hoped that he felt as unfulfilled as I did. I turned off the radio and finished the dishes in silence. Sometimes his girlfriend invited me over for dinner at their apartment. "You're one of those guests who brightens up the room," she said. "Dinner's a lot more fun when you're here, and Josh seems to enjoy it, too." Afterwards, Josh would walk me home. He decided he had to stay out of my place. "If I'm in your apartment, it will smell like you, and I would only be ten steps away from your bed," he began. "Look at that—thinking about your bed makes me hard. On a soft bed, with the curtains closed, and sheets and pillows, I can see you holding your legs wide open for me. I could fuck you and then I could just burrow my face in your neck and stay forever." I never whined or complained or begged him to come in for an hour or a lifetime. Intuitively, I knew that chores and dishwashing and bed making and laundry and all the charts and negotiations it takes to run a partnership would suck the life out of our relationship. So we made out on the doorstep or leaning against the brick wall of the apartment house. That was delicious torment: the smell of brick dust and semen and Budweiser tall boys and sweat and old doormats and the insidious perfume of my pussy. If I was still frenzied and unfulfilled when he left, it wasn't far to my boyfriend's house. Jimmy was always happy when I showed up horny as hell. He was a nice enough guy. He just never knew how hard I wanted to be driven. And it was good he never knew, really, because it simply wasn't in him to take a woman that way. ------------- And now Josh was standing in front of me, the office door locked, his hands on the doorknob behind him. I copied his stance, hands behind my back, holding onto the desk. I moistened my lips with just the tip of my tongue. I was aware, aroused. I could feel my cunt getting ready for cock. I leaned back, lifting my hips imperceptively toward him. "What are you thinking?" he asked. It wasn't a real question. We both knew he was going to be inside me soon. We simply needed a few more minutes to get used to the idea... enough time for him to get even harder, enough time to cross the room, enough time for my pussy to get very wet and very slippery. "Nothing," I said. As he pushed himself away from the door, horniness washed over me. I lifted my chin slightly, parted my lips, sighed a quick, soft sigh. I kept my hands behind me on the desk. I offered him everything. Kiss the insides of my elbows, the backs of my knees. Bite my lips, my wrists, my tits. Fondle my cunt, my thighs, my legs. Then take me as fast as you want and as hard as you can. Your frenzy feeds my lust. Your hunger makes me hungrier. "What do you want?" I asked, emphasizing the "you." "What do you want to do to me?" I couldn't help it, I licked my lips again. Lust filled the space between us. I saw his cock move and stiffen inside his green gym shorts. I couldn't wait any longer. I gave up. "Come here," I said. "And do that thing where you put your finger in my mouth." He crossed the room quickly, and pushed his forefinger and middle finger into my mouth, grabbing my breast with his other hand. The assault was so total and so strong it made my knees weak. I hate cliches, but I opened to his touch like a flower. He pushed me backwards onto the desk. I wrapped one leg around his back, wishing I was naked under my skirt. He pulled his fingers from my mouth to press his lips on mine. I opened to him, opened to his insistent tongue. I kissed him back aggressively, pulling his tongue further into my mouth. He pushed my skirt up to my waist, unwrapped my leg from his back, and lifted me a little so he could pull down my underwear. As I untangled them from my feet, he kept his hand pushed between my legs, fingering me gently. He had moaned when he realized how wet and ready I was. Then he set my leg back around him, pressing insistently against my naked crotch with his clothed one. I could feel his cock through his shorts. I put my hands on his waist to take them off. "Don't move your hands. Just hang onto the desk," he said quietly. "Let me do all the work." He pushed his shorts down and kicked them away. I could see him stroke his cock a few times. Then he pushed the two fingers that had been in my mouth into my wet, sensitive pussy. Again, I tried to rise up. I wanted to pull him down to me. "No. Lean back. Keep your hands on the desk like I told you." He kissed me deeply while he fingered me. I was excited. I was starting to pant. Being told to keep my hands off him intensified the arousal. I was so frustrated I was whimpering. And because I was doing what he told me, not what I wanted to do, it was somehow getting even more exciting. There was such a sexual friction building within me. I kissed him back, sucking his tongue, pulling it further into my mouth. Still moving his fingers in and out of my wet pussy, he pushed his thumb next to my swollen clit, and began brushing it back and forth. I was so ready for him, I could barely stand any more arousal. I wanted to tell him to mount me now, because I was getting close to coming, but he pressed harder with his tongue, forcing my mouth open further. He didn't want my opinion. He wanted me his way. Suddenly both his hands were under my ass. He said, "Lift." I lifted up, and he had me on the layout desk on my back, legs wide open. He climbed up, spreading my pussy lips with one hand and guiding his cock into me with the other. His first hard penetration made me scream in aching delight. His cock felt as big inside me as I had imagined it would. It was thick and long. I could feel it pushing against my cunt lips as he thrust deeper and deeper into me. As he worked it back and forth against the sides of my cunt, I rolled from side to side to bring him as far inside as possible. He tore into me with intensity. The desk didn't give like a mattress, so I could feel his hard prick plunging deep. I felt his hip bones grinding on mine. I curled and uncurled, tipping back and forth so I could feel every hard, hungry stroke. He had one hand inside my bra, fingering and pinching my nipple. I reached inside my shirt to pull the bra up so both breasts were free. Then I wrapped my arms around him as he fucked me with his whole body. The pain of his bones on my shoulders and hips was intense. I focused on it, spreading my legs wider for him, feeling the sensation shifting from pain into the edge of orgasm. I began breathing shallower, trying to hold off coming, wanting it to build higher. I focused on the pain and pleasure, hearing myself pant, moan, gasp. Suddenly, while maintaining his rhythm and still pumping into me as hard as he could, he pushed himself up off my chest. I was so surprised I opened my eyes. He was pounding my pussy while looking at me with such unabashed satisfaction and control that I involuntarily relaxed and gave myself over to him. I didn't mean to, but I just let go and let myself come on his forceful, pounding cock. The absolute beauty of that orgasm still rocks me. I know I made sounds from deep within, wild cries, primitive sounds of pleasure. I grabbed my legs behind my knees to open myself even further. He closed his eyes in pleasure, and he slammed his cock deeper than any man had been. He came and pumped and came and pumped. I felt the cum squirt against my cervix. I moved with him and drained his cock. The desk was slippery with sweat. He rested with his full weight heavily on me, panting. I was spent, relaxed, melting, relishing the last few moments before he pulled out. Without warning, he grabbed my wrists and pushed my arms straight up over my head. That move was so sudden, so powerful, so surprising and so commanding that there were aftershocks in my cunt. "I felt that," he said. "You're unbelievable." Then he said, "Turn your head to the side." When I did, he kissed me lightly, then shifted and wiggled so that he could rest his head on the table. We were face to face, so close that his breath sighed into my mouth, and I breathed back into his. It was so tender and soft that I relaxed back into the lovely melting feeling. "That was better than anything I could have imagined," I said. "I have never been fucked so hard and come so hard." "You turned me on from day one," he said. "This was unbelievable. It was like my body was out of control, like it wanted more and more of your body. It was like you bewitched me." "No one has ravaged me like this," I said. "No one has been so in control of me. Really. When you were looking down at me like that, I knew you were telling me to let go." "You were holding back," he said. "You were really enjoying what was happening. It is so obvious that you love fucking, but you were holding something back. I just willed you to let go. I was thinking 'give in, give in' and then I saw a shift in your eyes, and they relaxed or something, and then that incredible orgasm started and I couldn't think anymore. I just wanted to be coming as hard as you were, and, oh my god, I did. That was amazing, that was fucking amazing. I knew you would be good, just from the way your hips swing when you walk. I have been walking behind you in a daze for the past few weeks. Your cunt is amazing. Your legs are amazing." He let go of my wrists to hold my face with his hands, his beautiful hands with the sensitive long fingers. I turned my head and licked the tips of his fingers. "Nobody makes me want to lick their fingers," I told him. "Nobody has ever made me want to please them so much. I'm so used to making sure I get pleasured. It's weird. I knew when you wanted me to let go like that, that it was for me, and it's weird but I knew that if I did that, that you would really really like it." "I love that you did that for me," he said. "Whatever it was, it was the most pleasurable fucking I have had in forever." "You have to get off me," I said. "This table is starting to feel really hard." He rolled off me, stood, found his shorts and put them back on. "Can I look at you for a little?" he asked. I was so satiated, so full of afterglow, that I just smiled. He leaned over and pulled my shirt off over my head, then undid my bra and slid the straps down my arms, and set it on top of my shirt. "Lift up," he said while holding my bunched-up skirt. I lifted my ass, and he slid my skirt to the floor. A Hard Boss is Good to Find "Spread your legs for me," he said. "I just want to look at you. Your body is just right for me." I put my hands on my belly and opened my legs. The table was wet with sweat and semen and my juices, wet and cold against my back. He spent a long time touching me, fingering my cunt, running his fingers into it, spreading it open with both hands, massaging the mons, pulling the hood back from the shy clit, leaning over to tongue it gently. "It's just all so pink and nice," he said. "It smells so good. I want my face in it. Can I put my face in your pussy? Can I eat you now?" "Oh, yes. Please," I said. I so loved the way he licked me and bit me and handled me that I came again with three of his fingers pushed up inside me. Josh kept exploring my body while I rested, trailing his fingers over my belly, around my breasts, down my arms and back up again. He stroked all the little creases he could find: where my thighs run into my torso, where my ass ends and my legs begin, where my breasts meet my rib cage, behind my knees. He had mouthed all my fingers and all my toes, and then spent time with my nipples, tonguing each one softly before biting it gently. Fifteen minutes later, still naked, sweat-covered, smelling ripe and feeling so very well-fucked, I pushed myself up onto my elbows. "Bend your knees up," he said. "Then let your legs fall open." When I did, he pulled me towards him into a sitting position, and held me tightly, cradling my sweaty head against his chest with one arm, hugging my ass with his other. My wide open pussy pressed sweetly against his gym shorts. "Oh, Sarah," he said. "How are we ever going to get a lick of work done now?" I licked his chest languidly, hugged him tighter, snuggled closer. "All I can think of..." he continued. "...is that we are going to have to pick a day of the week. And I will give you that day off with pay, so we can go somewhere and do this all day." He ran one hand down my back, getting his fingers wet again with sweat and cum. Offhandedly, he began to probe my anus with his middle finger. I twisted my head around so I was looking straight up at him. He stroked my high, sexy ponytail a few times, then wrapped it around his hand. He came down and kissed me hard, forcing his tongue into my mouth and a second finger into my asshole. I scratched his back and pushed his shorts down over his ass, and we made it to the floor without killing ourselves... where we fucked each other just as hard as we had the first time. And so we invented Wild Wednesdays. We worked like maniacs on Monday and Tuesday, barely touching. Then we fucked like heathens all day Wednesday. And worked again on Thursday and Friday. Unless Wednesday had been particularly inspiring... maybe there was a little finger-fucking and cocksucking on Thursday.. maybe he came in my hair by mistake that Friday... maybe he lied to his girlfriend on a Sunday afternoon or two and we turned the volume way up on the football game and knocked the magazines off my coffee table. But we always worked really hard on Mondays and Tuesdays. And we never missed a print deadline. Never. Because he was such a good boss.