xxx-His Boss, My Pussy

boss sex, anal sex, oral sex, erotic short stories, free erotica, adult fiction, caffieri.com, XXX stories, erotic fiction, short sex stories, erotic super shorts, adult stories, sexually explicit stories, porn stories, short erotic stories, kinky sex stories,

By Lauren McAllister

I’d been nuptially entwined with Greg for just over five years. It had been a good marriage in many ways but our matrimonial union wasn’t all eggplants and tube socks, if you know what I mean.

As our years wedded bliss traipsed on, Gregory got progressively deeper into the whole “domination” thing. Not in every aspect of our lives, but most definitely in the bedroom (or wherever he chose to fuck me). I was required to offer up my penis palace at a moment’s notice and perform whatever sexual act he desired to exacting specifications. Yes, it did keep things “a la boudoir” interesting, but there are those times when a girl just likes to open up her legs and have a nice pleasant humping. Sadly, that didn’t happen very often. It was mostly ropes and handcuffs and ball-gags and the like.

Gregory had been working at a middle-sized firm in Pasadena since we’d been married. One day, he informs me that his boss is coming over for dinner. For some reason, hearing this rather unremarkable piece of news really fluffed up my muffin. A powerful sensual jolt shot up from my clit and into my skull, making my whole body shiver. The thought of meeting someone who ordered the man who ordered me around really lubed my tube. All that evening, as I ate out Greg’s sister in front of him, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mr. Fortnam and what his cock looked like. That night, hubby tied me to the bed and beat my ass with a riding crop before sodomizing the hell out of me. In the morning, I looked Fortnam up on the internet (sitting on a very soft pillow) and masturbated to his picture for over an hour. I came five times. If I hadn’t had a hair appointment for the big dinner, I probably would have sat there naked all day and whapped my wet box silly.

Luckily, Greg let me pick my own dress for the meal, but he did choose the entire menu. I put on a tight red little number with plenty of cleavage and no underwear. During my shower, before he arrived, I wanked right to the brink of an orgasm and then pulled back so I was horned up to the teeth by the time this mythic figure walked into our home. My girlie lips were so puffy and swollen, I had a hard time standing with my legs together.

Fortnam was an older guy. Probably 50 or so. He wasn’t much to look at and had a bit of a pot belly but it was all I could do not to stick my tongue down his dress pants when Gregory introduced us.

“So very happy to meet you at last,” I purred.

The meal went fine. I accidentally brushed myself (especially my boobs) up against our guest a few times while I was serving the food. Fortie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was quite effusive in his praise of my efforts as he left. As soon as he’d gone, of course, Greg pulled my hands behind my back, bent me over our dining room table and doggied me three times up my dress. Then he buggered off to bed. Meanwhile, I was required stay up and clean the whole apartment until 2 AM. Even after that, I had to get up at six in the morning to suck his cock while he ate his breakfast (one of our little rituals).

Once he’d driven off to work, I feverishly rifled through his desk and computer to find Fortnam’s email address. The rest of the day was spent fashioning a “thank you note” to Mr. Boss Man that could be considered an innocent expression of gratitude…or a brazen invitation to “come hither”.

Perhaps, I may have leaned a tad too strongly on the “come hither” part because he emailed me back within 7 minutes. It was such a pleasure to meet me. What a great cook I was. What a lucky man Greg was and how he envied him having such a young and attractive wife. I believe he also mentioned my legs and hair. Three wanks later, I carefully considered what my next move should be. Then I had two additional wanks.

That night, Gregory tied me up naked and stuffed me in our hall closet. I had a big rope up between my pussy lips and incredibly painful nipple clamps. He’d take me out every couple of hours to jerk-off into my open mouth and then he would jam me back in the closet. While it was uncomfortable and three small helpings of cum was hardly a filling supper, it did allow me quite a bit of time to think and plot.

The next morning, I fired off another email, slightly more flirty than the last. This time it only took him four and a half minutes to reply. I sent off a couple of pics with me in very small dresses and asked him which one he thought I should wear to the office party. Fortie replied that I would look great in any of the dresses or nothing at all. Bingo! More wanking.

I wrote back and told him that his naughty comment had made me touch myself in an inappropriate way. His reply took 30 seconds. It was an invitation to lunch. I asked him what day and he said he’d pick me up in half an hour. I was in such a hurry to get ready, I didn’t even have time to rub myself a quick one!

Lunch was very pleasant. Fortnam took me to the Four Seasons (what a coincidence that this delightfully pricey restaurant should also have a hotel full of beds attached to it). Our conversation was light and flirty (My alarmingly small dress, even more so.). Mr. Boss Man hung on my every word like men often do before you let them fuck you. I giggled and I touched his hand and all those things we girls do to raise a fellow’s Jolly Roger. He was practically dry humping the table leg by the time we’d finished our meal.

As Fortnam was paying the check, he mentioned what a great hotel this was and would I like to check out what the suites looked like. I smiled and said I had to get back home and start getting dinner ready for Greg. However, I hinted, if there was a night that hubby was stuck really late at work, then I’m sure I’d have time to check out furnishings with him. That got the wheels turning.

When he dropped me off, I gave him a nice thank-you-for-lunch kiss (full on the mouth but no tongue). Just enough to tell him that there was plenty more where that came from if he played my husband’s cards right.

When Greg got home, he was very excited. Fortnam had just handed him a huge account. It was going to mean a lot of long nights at the office but it was a huge opportunity and a big vote of confidence from his boss. Hubby was so stoked; he called a couple of his friends over. They took turns fucking me on the couch while Gregory drank a bottle of champagne and played with his knob.

The following evening, my calendar was pretty much open. The Boss showed up around 5:30, sporting his newly purchased “casual” attire. I have to say that his outfit failed to achieve the desired effect. It looked like someone had stolen his suit on the way over to our house. I invited him in and told him to pour me a glass of wine. It’s amazing how agreeable men can be when they’re out hunting for vag. He brought me the Cabernet and I took off my skirt. Fortie stared hungrily at my shaved puss as I took the glass off him and leaned back against the wall.

“Now, get down on your knees and eat me out while I drink this,” I dryly commanded.

His knees were a bit creaky but he did as he was told. I opened up my legs and took the first sip of 2009 Red as he took his first sip of me. Those first few licks, in and around my vulva, were really quite pleasant. I had warm feelings rising up my vaginal canal combined with the warmth of the wine trickling down my throat like I was being sprit-roasted by Eros and Dionysus.

“Stick your tongue up my hole as far as it will reach and then swirl it around.”

Oooh yum, that was nice. I liked giving the orders. Fortie was given very explicit instructions on just how to please me and he threw his heart and soul into their execution. His clit work was good but he was hardly up to the standards of my old girlfriend in high school (Sally used to play my inner lips like the strings on a violin). Sigh. That all changed after the wedding bells five years ago and I’d spent every morning since naked, on my hands and knees in the kitchen with a cock in my mouth. I reached down and ran my hands through his thinning hair and told him to lick faster and spend more time sucking on my love button.

Mr. Loverman thought he’d try and adlib.

“No fingers!”

He obediently obeyed. His lingual lap lashings were beginning to wobble my knees. The sweet sinful surge was upon me. I grabbed the back of Fortie’s head and ground his face into my pussy. A cum balloon was beginning to expand between my legs, getting bigger and bigger until…BAM! It went off like a Firestone tire on the freeway. I swung my legs in and smooshed his cheeks together with my thighs. Holding onto the top of his balding pate for balance, I rode out wave after wave of spine-bending spasms until I had to push him backward onto the floor. I hadn’t had a climax like that since Sally used to come over to help me with my “homework.”

I regained my composure (even though my lips were still throbbing, sending multiple batches of mini-shivers throughout my torso and tits) and looked down at Greg’s boss on our living room carpet.

“Stand up.”

Up he shot. Fortnam was fairly spry for an old dude. I unzipped his pants and extracted the mediocre erection from his boxers.

“Now I want you to whack it for me, baby.”

This did not meet with his expectations. I began to raking my fingernails on the underside of his nutsack as I whispered into his ear. “You do this for me now, and tomorrow night I’ll suck your cock.”

I reached down and placed his hand around his joint and then massaged his balls like they were a pair of loaded dice in Vegas. Fortie started to jack it. I whispered how much I was enjoying the visual into his ear and nibbled his lobe as the intensity of his shaft-stroking picked up. Pretty soon he was huffing and puffing like Thomas the Tank Engine going up a mountain. Now he was in full-tilt whap-mode. His slacks had fallen to the floor and the head of his dick was taking a substantial beating. Suddenly, his face grimaced as thin strands of creamy goo shot out the end of his boner and splattered onto our glass-top coffee table. I got down on my knees and gave his spent little pecker a few licks to show my appreciation for a job well done. And then I made him get dressed and sent him on his way. After he’d gone, I wanked it for the next hour or so and had another glass of wine.

When Gregory eventually got home, he went straight to bed. He didn’t even want to play “the vibrator game” of “hide the apple.” Imagine my feigned disappointment in the morning when he told me to put my clothes back on because he’d have to eat his breakfast on the train. “Hey, maybe you can get the conductor to blow you while you eat your Egg McMuffin you bastard!” I didn’t suggest.

That night, Fortie was back over and I gave him the cock-sucking of his life. You can be quite creative when the guy’s doowanger isn’t too big. For instance, you can take the whole thing into your mouth and lick his nuts at the same time. I really gave it a thorough spit bath. Fortnam seemed very pleased as he gushed a big sticky load onto my outstretched tongue. When he’d finished emptying himself out, I made him sit on the end of the bed and watch me masturbate and again I sent him home without even offering him a glass of water.

If you dole out sexual favors slowly to a man, there is almost nothing you can’t make him do. I made Fortie wait a week and a half to see my tits and almost a month to “do the deed.” When I eventually did let him fuck me, it was in our wedding bed. Mr. Boss was a little reluctant to violate its sanctity but eventually, his penis overrode any sense of decency and loyalty he had to his longtime employee. It was really nice to have a man on top of me, with my legs spread and a gentle kiss on my lips. Usually, I got whipped, beaten (within limits, of course) tie-up or butt-fucked on that mattress. Of course, I made Fortie fuck me on Gregory’s side of the bed. The thought of Greg sleeping on the spot where his boss had just fired two loads into his wife, had me screaming like a psychotic chimpanzee as I came.

For the next couple of months, I practically made Fortnam beg for my pussy but I made all that groveling more than worthwhile. Poor little Greg stumbled around the house like the walking dead. He was reduced to the odd exhausted quickie. In the end, though, I started to miss Gregory’s demented fun and games.

So now, I’ve set up a schedule of dates where hubby gets to come home and dominate his little lady. The rest of the time, I keep him slaving away at the office so his boss can come over and service me.

It’s the best of both worlds. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s my husband’s night off, so I have to go be tied to a chair and have a lit candle shoved up my ass.

Copyright 2014 Lauren McAllister
eBooks
by Lauren McAllister on Amazon

%d bloggers like this: