The boss called me into her office. There were two things wrong with that: as a newbie on the team she had never once called me into her office, and it was late and I was eager to leave.

I knocked and waited, looking at the floor and impatiently hopping from one foot to the other. My hand dashed for the door handle when I heard the words come.

I entered her office and stood looking at the back of her leather chair that completely covered her body except for the bun of blonde hair that poked slightly above it.

I looked around the room for a possible chair that I would be directed to. I was nervous and uncertain as to why I was called into the office in the first place but I waited patiently for her to address me.

In all fairness, any dealings I had had with her were courteous and she treated everyone fairly. I predicted that the theory would hold for me too.

Her voice suddenly boomed from behind the chair.

“How long have you been with us, Richard?” she asked.

“A… A… About three months,” I finally pushed the words out of my mouth. I presumed that she was reading some file on me but only she knew the reason I was there. My mouth started to dry out and I swallowed hard. It was disconcerting that I couldn’t see her face and hence determine what kind of mood she was in.

Deep down, I hoped this would not be my first and last time in her office and hoped that I was to be congratulated on the work I had put in recently.

From my vantage point, I could see her black heels extend from the chair and I guessed she was about to spin around on it and tell me why I was called in to see her. I prepared myself for the speech.

The chair turned around slowly and as it did, she pulled her feet together to perch them on the edge of the leather seat. Her head was lowered and she looked out of the top of her eyelids at me.

The shock on my face must have been a picture. I swallowed hard. She pursed her lips and allowed me time to come to terms with the sight before me. I probably could never explain, in words, how she looked and I didn’t know where I should put my eyes. They were well and truly confused.

I shall start by saying that her blue eyes pierced into mine; around her neck was placed a delicate necklace and her face was framed by strands of golden hair. She looked down at her posture and moved her feet apart slowly. Her hand came up to her neck and the pout was still prominent on her lips.

I was visibly shaking. Not scared, but for once in my life, I was totally unsure how to play this scenario. I think I put my hands in my pocket momentarily so that she wouldn’t see my predicament. But my eyes were not lying. Her shoulders were bare and her skin flawless; yes, I mean a lot of her skin was flawless. The straps of the black basque were pushed off her shoulders and her breasts were full and overflowing the front of it. Her legs splayed sideways and her smooth pussy was staring me out like a seasoned poker player. Her slit was pink and fresh.

Recently stroked I would say, no doubt while I waited outside her office. Her fingers played on her folds and the hand that cradled her neck finally caressed her voluptuous breasts. They looked gorgeous and I would give her an eleven out of ten for the way they looked at that precise moment.

I had always dreamed of being seduced in this way but thought it would never happen. Not to me. Not in real life.

She never said a word, just looked at me and assessed my reaction to her gorgeous body which was getting more and more obvious with every passing moment. I couldn’t stop the bulge in my pants from being obvious and I could tell that she saw that and reacted to it by stroking her slit with her rose-red fingernails.

The reason I kept quiet was that I didn’t know what she wanted, though it was becoming more obvious as time went by. In all honesty, one of my brains wanted to dive right in there and devour her but I didn’t think that was her game plan. The other brain stopped me, the thought of my wife, our relationship, the support she had given me over the years. I loved her. I couldn’t…

But the figure before me pushed my lust buttons – all of them, all at the same time. If erotica could be summed up in one vision – she was it.

It was hard for me to look her in the eyes when she spoke because there was so much more focusing my attention. I don’t think she would have wanted it any other way, to be honest.

“I have always rewarded good work in this department,” she said, “and you have worked remarkably well since you started with us.”

Her eyes glanced all over my body as she spoke. Not concentrating on any one thing in particular. Her words, ‘rewarded good work,’ resonated and bounced around like an echo in my mind. I stared at her a little too much. This wasn’t happening, not to me.

“Thank you,” I eventually replied.  Any longer sentence would have come out all wrong and probably squeaky.

She smiled then opened her legs wider but keeping her heels together on the edge of the chair. Both of her hands now caressed her breasts. She looked up at me.

“I think you want to – don’t you?”

I nodded. I couldn’t help myself. I just nodded and licked my lips. I watched her nipples stiffen under her touch. But all the while she looked like butter wouldn’t melt. I felt like a voyeur watching some sixties porn. I wanted to tell her that I was a happily married man but I think she already knew that.

“Why don’t you come here and eat it.” Her index finger pointed to the top of her slit.

Her choice of words exploded in my head. She could see the dilemma written all over my face.

“It’s nice and wet already,” she added. Her head twisted slightly to one side as she gazed at me, smiling.

I could see that it was nice and wet; I didn’t need to be told. I could see that it would benefit from having my lips on it. I could see that. More so though, I wanted to lick her breasts. They were just so succulent, like ripened nectarines.

She shifted slightly forward on the seat. Her wet slit getting closer to the edge. I sensed that every movement was choreographed to entice me.

“There is that better for you.”

I nodded once more, moved forward and without realising it, started to kneel.

“First things first,” she interrupted my move, her finger wiggling in front of her face.

“Take your cock out of your trousers but keep your clothes on.” Her request made me squirm inside. She was so sexy and she acted the part perfectly. Everything she did and said oozed erotica.

I unzipped my trousers, scooped my pants to one side, struggled but managed to pull my fully erect penis from the confines of my trousers. By the time I let it go, it was erect and pointing upwards. The foreskin had already started to peel backwards. I grasped it the once and yanked on it to give it the freedom it required. It felt strange standing there with my cock to attention while fully clothed. My pink cock burgeoning from the tiny hole in my black trousers.

It was the first smile that I saw cross her face. She looked into my eyes, though mine were focused on her juicy slit.

“Come here, big boy, get your tongue on this,” she told me.

She pushed her body back into the leather chair and extended her hips forward. I knelt on the floor in front of her waiting chalice. I pushed my chin over the bridge formed by her high heels and let it rest on the chair. My tongue extended and I started at the bottom and licked all the way upwards until the flat of my tongue scraped over her extended clit.

She let out a loud moan; the result of all her earlier playtime, the anticipation, the naughtiness, the eroticism, the lust. She pushed her cunt into my mouth and her hand gently caressed the side of my head. Her fingers streaked through my hair and I waited for the moment when she would grab it hard and own it. After all, she was the boss and she paid me for whatever was inside it. Right at that moment, that was my tongue.

Her fingers swirled around my head as I concentrated on licking and sucking. Moans escaped her mouth. Her body twitched, turned and wriggled. When I tried to look up I could see her pinch her nipple while cradling her breast in the palm of her hand; her eyes closed relishing in the pleasure. I pushed my tongue inside her slit and was rewarded with more juice than I could cope with. She seemed to leak nectar; sticky nectar at that. I secretly hoped she wouldn't be spurting over my clean shirt and tie.

My cock ached and bobbed. I couldn’t see what was happening to it but knew that pre-cum would be leaking from the tip and dropping onto the wooden floor. I shuffled my knees backwards because I didn’t want that stuff over my best trousers; that’s not always my first thought in situations like this but at this precise moment it focused my attention and I acted on it.

My boss lifted her bum off the seat long enough for me to place my hands underneath her bottom. There’s nothing quite like lifting those globes in the air while you’re eating out pussy. It makes the whole act far more enjoyable. She seemed to like it too, especially when my tongue buried itself inside her.

I could tell she was reaching her climax. Her moans got louder and were often accompanied by her clenching muscles. She let out a few whispers containing the word fuck that got lost on the breeze somewhere between her lips and my ears despite the short distance and her hand suddenly grasped my hair and was pulling it out at the same time as pushing my face into her twat.

I loved her attitude. I could feel my cock swell even though it hadn’t been touched at all. It was obvious that I was there to serve her, period!

My phone pinged in my jacket pocket. I had no desire to look at it but it broke my concentration for a split second. My boss was unimpressed and she pulled me in closer to her sex and rubbed herself up and down my face as punishment.

My phone pinged again.

“Eat the fuck out of me,” she commanded.

And it was a command and quickly followed by her confession.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, you gorgeous fucking licker.”

I pressed my mouth to her twat and licked furiously over her clit. Her body bucked and twisted as she rode my wet face. But I never thought I would ever hear words like that coming from her.

My phone pinged again.

“Over me.”

I hardly heard her speak and I didn’t comprehend what I was being asked to do, so I kept licking with the flat of my tongue.

“Over me now, spunk over me,” her words louder that time.

I heard and understood her second command all too clearly, and I quickly stood up and grabbed my raging hard-on. I tugged at it, leaning in towards her body as I did so.

It didn’t take long and I was well overdue an orgasm in any case. She pressed her back into the chair and cupped her tits together; loosely at first, letting them wobble.

“Over my tits,” she told me.

I stroked and aimed as best I could. I dipped my head down quickly just to get a mouthful of nipple and tit flesh because for once, it was what I wanted to do. Just as quickly, I straightened up and worked my cock. I could see my boss looking at the end of it and I wondered whether she would like a little bit to go astray and splash on her face.

“Only over my tits.” It was like she had read my mind. Perhaps she did. Perhaps that’s why she was sitting in that chair and I was the one tossing myself off over her body.

I grunted, held my cock stiffly and pumped it hard. With the tip pointing at her cleavage, I started to moan out loud. I wanted her to hear everything, wanted her to know that I was enjoying it and wanting it to happen. I wanted her to be under no obligation that she was forcing me, far from it. I didn’t want her to feel guilty afterwards as if that would ever happen. I would though, I would feel guilty and I knew that.

My phone pinged once more. I ignored it and with one last grunt erupted all over her silky smooth flesh and black basque.

“Yes,” I announced, “you fucking deserve that.”

As those words came out of my mouth, I immediately regretted it. I couldn’t believe I had told my boss what I was thinking. I closed my eyes and shook my head as the dribbles of spunk (after the four forceful jets) leaked over her basque.

“I certainly did, didn’t I?” she responded with a giggle.

I inhaled deeply while experiencing a sense of relief. I stepped backwards still holding my cock proud of my body.

“Over there on the table,” she nodded with her head. I looked at the table and could see a box of tissues waiting for me. I grabbed a couple and wiped my cock with them.

“Do you want a couple?” I asked.

My boss shook her head, “not yet, I’ll clean up after I’ve savoured the combined smell.”

Again her words caused me to become lustful. Everything she said seemed so sexy. I watched her finger slide between my spunk before she lifted it to her lips and sucked on it. I nearly melted at watching her act so lewdly.

“Someone’s trying very hard to get hold of you, young man?” She said.

“It’s my wife. It’s our anniversary, we’re having a meal out and it looks like I’ll be a little late,” I replied.

“You’d better go then – oh, and give my regards to your wife, won’t you,” she pointed to the door and then watched me stuff my cock back into my trousers. I made to leave without as much as a smile but I nodded in her direction as I left her office. For some reason, saying thank you seemed crass.

I swung past the gents on the way out. I sent a hurried text to my wife saying that I was sorry and that I had been detained by my boss and that I would meet her at the restaurant. I washed my face about three times and my tongue twice. The last thing I needed was for my wife to kiss me and then twist her head to one side in that knowing way that leaves you in no doubt that you’re fucked!

I hadn’t been fucked, not yet, but that was one hell of a bonus that my boss hands out to employees for working hard. As it happens it wasn’t the only bonus. The monetary one followed with my paycheck.

At dinner that evening, I made all those little connections that I had missed when I first joined. The work ethic at that company was brilliant. Everyone was friendly and seemed to work their ass off and do the best job that they could, even the women staff. I started to wonder whether they were all in on the bonus scheme.

Suddenly, I could see why everyone got on.

When I met my wife, I apologised profusely for being late and hoped that I had not forgotten to wash something that needed washing. I became acutely aware of anything on my body that may provide evidence as to my secret tryst and if it wasn't for the memories of that early evening, or the heavy guilt, we would have had a wonderful and unforgettable anniversary meal.

And yet, every spoonful of lemon tart and cream just reminded me of my boss.