Boss Man

(author’s note: Purely fictitious. Written in a fit of horn. Enjoy. Also, the name of the man in the story is a shameless nod to one of my new favorite books…. )

~

He bites his bottom lip when he’s thinking. Or trying to pretend that he’s thinking.

He winks at me, in that way that only someone who has a mental image of a non-stop fuckfest in mind can do.

He stares openly at my tits.

And I’m okay with this. Fuck, I openly stare at that perfect arse of his, clad in those awful work pants.

On the really boring days, I busy myself by staring at his crotch.

One has to pass time at work somehow.

He’s not perfect. Far from it, but then again, who’s ever perfect?

I’m not. If I were perfect, I wouldn’t have these intense feelings for my superior. Feelings that as of late seem to center themselves in the tangle of nerves that make up my cunt. 

A cunt that aches for his cock.

Jezal Ilyas

The dirty fucking bastard.

I can’t have him. Nobody can. But my cunt is exceptionally greedy. She has taken over any rational thought I may have about fucking my superior, and is practically screaming for me to just take his dick and stick it up her. Treacherous filly.

And he knows. Oh fuck, does he ever know and does he ever try to make me give in.

Work has become unbearable.Like a Mexican stand-off of sexual tension. There are no words but the necessary ones. But the eyes tell a story beyond the boundaries. In the eyes of Jezal, there is a burning desire, one that swelters in the summer heat.

And as I watch him, casually playing Frisbee with a few of my other co-workers, I make a decision. I’m going to have him.

Late June. A work picnic on Hampstead Heath.

Jezal looks like manna from heaven, even without his usual business attire. Tanned, nearly golden in the sunlight. Muscles rippling under his tight tee. That smile amplified to the point of madness.

I like it.

I excuse myself from my co-workers, in the hope that I can get something to quench this enormous thirst I have. And perhaps in the hope that somehow Jezal has followed me to help me quench the other enormous thirst I have. 

“One pound fifty.” the sour-faced vendor says, handing me the bottle of water.

“How about a “please”?” I mutter, handing over the cash. He remains quiet, instead opting to scowl me away from his stand.

I shake my head and walk off.

Sitting down at a secluded spot, I sup at the water like it’s the only thing keeping me alive. It trickles in spurts down chin and onto my breasts.

“I’ve never been so thankful for a summer’s day like this.”

I raise my head and find Jezal towering over me. He’s grinning like a fucking shark.

“And why is that? An excuse to wear a tank top?”

“Guess again.”

“Hmm… let me guess. It has something to do with butterflies? Long walks on the Brighton seafront?”

I stand up and face him. I’m so close, I can nearly taste him. He smells like musk and sweat with hints of that ridiculously expensive cologne he got at the office Christmas party. 

He smirks. “Guess again.”

But before I can take another guess, he pushes me up against the tree and presses his mouth, and his entire body with it, against me. I kiss him back and our tongues meet and devour each other like ravenous wildebeests. Fuck, he tastes so sweet.

Jezal wastes no time and nearly tears his top apart. I moan aloud at the sight of that body, that body that’s been occupying my dreams for the past million years.

I frantically work at his belt buckle, undoing it just enough. He pulls my skirt down and growls.

“We’re not supposed to be doing this.” he says, but still he pulls down his jeans and frees his hard cock from his boxers.

“I know. But that’s the fun!” I giggle, and pull him close enough to seem inconspicuous to the world, which seems like an impossible thing to do, considering both Jez’s bum and my fanny are out.

As we kiss again, he spreads my thighs as far as he can. One finger slides along my sopping folds. He then licks it, which makes me shudder.

“Fuck, you taste good.” he breathes. “God, you drive me mad.”

“And you think you don’t?”

I need to be inside you right now.”

“What are you waiting for?”

And then he stops waiting. Opens me up and slides himself inside me.

The eternity of tension between us is enough to make the sparks fly across the Heath. He grabs my hips and pounds into me, his mouth covering mine.

It’s fucking for dear life. It’s a release of the things our eyes said when our mouths couldn’t. And it’s so good, it feels like my body is being smashed and built up piece by piece.

The orgasm comes swift but hard, both for him and me. I hang on to the sturdy tree as my hips buck, while he rides out his climax as his come spurts into me.

It takes a long time before either of us get our breath back. We cling to each other like lovers reunited.

And then we walk back to our group. We exchange a knowing grin before Jez goes back to his Frisbee game and I go back to watching him.

Nothing’s changed between Boss Man and me.

Except that his come is sticking between my thighs.

Who said work was boring?

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2 Comments

  1. That you write such sexy stuff, so consistently, so prolifically, is quite inspiring to us. Great story. Sounds like a perfect work day to us!

    Reply
    • Aw thanks! It’s the first longer thing I’ve put on the blog in a while and I wasn’t really sure about it so yay! xxx

      Reply

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