Working Late With My Boss Got So Dirty

So I work as an assistant at this little marketing firm, and my boss is the kind of older man who just radiates authority. Silver at the temples, expensive suits, this calm commanding way of talking that makes me want to be the best little employee he has ever had. I have had the world's biggest crush on him since my first week, and I have spent an embarrassing amount of time fantasizing about him bending me over his desk. Last Thursday, the fantasy became very, very real.

We were on a deadline for a big client pitch, and everyone else left around seven, but he asked me to stay and help him finish the presentation. Just us in the whole office, the city lights coming through the windows, and I was trying so hard to focus on the slides while he stood behind my chair leaning over me, close enough that I could smell his cologne. Every time he reached past me to point at the screen, his arm would brush against me, and I was getting so wet I could barely type.

Around ten we finally finished, and he poured us both a whiskey from the bottle he keeps in his credenza, and we sat there in the dim office just talking. He told me what a good girl I had been, how hard I worked, how much he appreciated me staying late for him. And the way he said good girl, in that deep voice, with his eyes locked on mine, made my whole body go hot. I told him I would do anything for the team, and I meant it in the filthiest way possible.

He stood up and came around the desk and held out his hand, and I took it, and he pulled me up and turned me to face his desk and guided me to bend over it. My heart was hammering. He smoothed my skirt up over my hips with these slow deliberate hands, and I was trembling, because this was actually happening. He slid my panties down and let them fall to my ankles, and I heard him exhale sharply at the sight of me bent over his desk, bare and waiting. He ran his big hand over my ass and then slipped his fingers between my legs, finding me absolutely soaked, and he groaned low. He worked me with his fingers right there, two fingers deep inside me while his thumb circled my clit, and I was whimpering into the polished wood, clutching the edge of the desk.

I was so close when he pulled his fingers away, and I actually whined at the loss, which made him chuckle in that deep way. Then I heard his belt buckle, and he pushed into me from behind in one smooth deep stroke that had me crying out. He filled me so completely, and he started moving with these slow deep thrusts that hit exactly right, one hand flat on my back holding me down and the other gripping my hip. Being taken on his desk, in his office, by the man who signs my paychecks, was the hottest thing I have ever felt. I was dripping down my thighs, moaning into the desk, totally his.

He reached around and rubbed my clit while he fucked me, and I came so hard my legs gave out and I collapsed forward onto the desk, shaking. He didn't stop though. He pulled out and turned me around and sat me on the edge of the desk, and pushed back into me face to face, staring into my eyes while he drove deep. I wrapped my legs around his waist and clung to his shoulders, and he kissed me then, deep and possessive, swallowing my moans. I came again on his cock, crying out into his mouth, and he followed with a groan, pulsing deep inside me.

We cleaned up in the little office bathroom, all giggly and shy, and he walked me to my car and kissed my forehead like a perfect gentleman. The presentation won the client, by the way.

The elevator ride down was the longest of my life. We stood side by side, both pretending to check our phones, but his hand found mine and squeezed, and I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. The next morning I walked into the office and he was already there, perfectly put together, and he just gave me this tiny secret smile over his coffee. Nobody else knew a thing, and that secret has been driving me wild all week. Every meeting now, I sit across the conference table from him and remember the weight of him on top of me on that desk, and I have to cross my legs.

Now I volunteer for every late night and every weekend project. He keeps finding reasons to need my help after hours, and I keep saying yes before he even finishes asking. I think my performance review is going to be very, very thorough, and I cannot wait.