I have one confession I don’t even dare mention to my girlfriends–I’m in love with my boss. Utterly, hopelessly, in love with the man who signs my paychecks. I know it’s wrong, and I’m asking for trouble, but I don’t care.
Gary hired me right after the Great Recession started. He needed an accountant, preferably with more experience. I desperately needed a job, any job. He was tall, not very dark, but handsome in a rugged and older yet wiser way. Calm under pressure, self reliant, always in control.
From the beginning I enjoyed working for him. From day one, I had a crush on him.
And I wanted to prove to him I was more than a pretty face with perky boobs.
I balanced his books for a very long year. Every day I fantasized about him, how he’d come into my office one late night and take advantage of me. Or how I’d take advantage of him. But in the front of my mind, I kept reality in check. He was my boss, and that was that.
Until one day while preparing for first quarter taxes. It’d been a tough year on the business, there was no money, and Gary was on edge all the time. Everybody in the office was worried sick about losing their jobs, including me. I couldn’t take another career change.
I didn’t want to lose Gary.
Late one evening, when both of us should’ve been home eating, Gary stumbled into my office. His necktie was crooked and loose. He clearly hadn’t shaved for a few days. And he seemed utterly defeated.
In the pit of my stomach, I knew the worst was coming.
I waited not so patiently for him to say what he needed to tell me. Gary sat there, silent and unmoving, staring at his hands in his lap, mouth moving but no words coming out. I ran out of patience pretty quick.
“What’s the bad news?” I said at last, with a tight humorless smile on my lips.
He looked up, puzzled expression on his face. “Huh? Oh. No bad news or anything.”
“Then why the long face?” I sat quiet for a long ten seconds, but he still remained quiet. Finally I spoke up. “Look, boss, one day we’ll both move on to other jobs. I hope we can remain friends.”
That brought a smile to his face. “Yeah, me too,” he said.
“And I hope we’re friends of a sort now,” I said. “If it’s possible to be friends with your boss, that is.”
I gave him a little wink to emphasize that last point. He took the humor and winked back. Now we were getting somewhere.
“Thanks,” he said.
I returned his smile. “And,” I said, “that also means you can talk to me about whatever’s on your mind.”
Gary stood up then, and sat on the edge of my desk. He was so close to me, I could smell the dark roast coffee on his breath and his sweet aftershave. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I held back, not daring to give him the wrong idea. I really wanted to help him with whatever was on his mind.
He patted me on the shoulder. Just a light touch, nothing more. But I perked up, eager and hopeful for more. It was the first time he touched me, come to think of it.
“I didn’t want to talk, so much as,” he said, waving a hand off to one side. “Oh, screw it.”
Gary leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth. A full on, teeth gnashing, wet lips kiss. Not the sexy first kiss I imagined with him, but still. I reached to him, touching his shoulder in an effort to keep close for a moment longer.
And then the kiss was over and he pulled away anyhow. He paced to the door, turned back, then turned around again.
“Boss.” I stood up.
“I’m sorry, Mandy,” he said. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Gary,” I said, coming out from behind my desk. I sat on the corner where he’d sat, and hiked my skirt up over my thigh. That very much got his attention. His eyes drifted from my face to my legs, then back up to my neckline before drifting back to the door and his escape.
I decided then I wasn’t letting him escape. Not that easy. Even if it meant losing this job and starting yet another career.
I opened the top button on my blouse. “Does that help?” I asked.
“Maybe we should forget this happened,” said Gary.
“You came to me,” I said. I popped the next button. I was confident he could see the top of my bra now. “And you’re the one who didn’t want to talk.”
He muttered something incomprehensible, in that way shy guys get when confronted head-on. If there was any doubt in my mind about how much I loved him, that was entirely gone. I continued undoing my blouse all the way to the bottom. Gary quietly shut the door behind him, probably without even thinking about what he was doing. I had him, and I knew it.
I waited for him to come to me. And he didn’t disappoint. One step. Then another. And then he held me in his arms and kissed me properly.
A slower, sensual kiss. Our tongue met, and mingled. His body heat was intense against me. Gary’s hands were all over me–my back, my hips, my breasts. I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding him close as possible.
My entire body shook with jitters. I wanted to swallow him whole, and at the same time I wanted to take him apart slow, piece by piece. I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t stop him. I think he felt the same way. Certainly seemed that way when he tore my blouse open the rest of the way and placed sloppy kisses above my bra.
And then he kept going south. Down my belly. Up my skirt. He had my panties off before I knew what was going on. He was quite skilled at giving oral. Also quite noisy. Gary groaned and made sloppy kissing noises. If anybody else were in the office, they would’ve certainly heard us.
After a sweet few minutes of him sucking on me, Gary then scooted me to the very edge of the desk.
He unbuckled his belt and dropped his trousers. He had a lovely hard cock, with a fat mushroom shaped head and heavy balls. I wanted to return the oral favor.
But he didn’t allow it. He fingered me one more time, to make sure I was wet. Definitely, so very wet. And then he eased his thick cock into me. He stretched me open. I purred in delight and held him close. He fucked me like he hadn’t fucked in far too long. Slow pace, fast, slow. He wound his hips, grinding his fat head against my sensitive spots.
It was all too much. I blew a quick orgasm. When he didn’t stop, I had a second one. Gary held me painfully tight against his chest, his head nuzzled against my shoulder as he cried out in his own orgasm.
We stood on the edge of my desk for a long few minutes, just holding each other while the afterglow cooled off.
Since then, Gary and I have continued to maintain a professional relationship of sorts. I do his books, he writes my checks. But now, when we make love, we do so in a hotel room.
Not all jobs last forever, especially in this economy. But I have a good feeling this is a relationship that will last a long time. I sure hope so.
If you enjoyed this week’s Sunday Quickie, please consider leaving a tip. Thank you!