The Boss is Always Right

The office was silent; I stared at my PC monitor watching the little numbers dance across the screen. They still did not add up. I sighed, and twirled blonde hair around nervous fingers. I had added this spreadsheet up more times than I could count and I was still missing revenue. If it had been a few pennies I would have closed the system down and gone home but 50K would definitely be noticed.

It was 7pm, the office lights were dim against the black night seeping in through the windows. There was only me, my boss and a couple of managers left in the building. I sighed again; what I would give to be curled up on the sofa at home, drinking a glass of red wine and watching whatever mindless show was on the TV. I looked at the screen again. I had to get this report right by tomorrow morning otherwise... I did not want to even consider the alternative. I needed this job; well not the job, I needed that like I needed a hole in my head but I needed the money.

My boss was new, a stern accountant who seemed to have taken an instant dislike to me. He was not going to give an inch over this report as it was. To give him an incorrect report would be giving him all the ammunition he needed to fire me.

I shook my head at the screen; I'll get coffee maybe it would miraculously add up if I had an injection of caffeine. I doubted it but if I looked at that flickering monitor any longer I would end up running around this big silent office screaming.

I got up, wriggled my short black skirt down into place, pushed my glasses more firmly onto my nose and tucked my white shirt back into the waistband. With no one here it hardly mattered but it made me feel more businesslike. Looking the part was half the battle in this company.

I walked across the office to the coffee machine and met my boss coming out of his office.

"You still here, Tania?" he growled.

How could a man who had only met me ten days ago dislike me so much I wondered? Most people liked me.

"Yep, still here." I answered. I could hear the tiredness in my voice. God, I hope he missed it; the man was super human – the complete superman. He ran, played squash, worked out, and had two fantastic kids and a wife who ran her own company. He was here before me in the morning and left after me at night. He would not understand tiredness and that would be another mark against me. I wonder how many marks I had against me already. Today was just getting better and better.

He stopped in front of me, just too close for me to walk around him without it being obvious I was trying to avoid a conversation. I looked up at him. I was used to looking up at men as I am only 5'3" it is unavoidable. He really did have the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Maybe it was the contrast between his tanned face and the clear blue of his eyes that made them look so striking. Whatever it was I liked the result though I hated to admit it.

"So what are you working on to keep you here so late?" His southern drawl drew out the words with a lazy charm that he normally reserved for my colleagues. I was more used to hearing him shout orders than this. My face must have shown surprise, as he placed a hand on my arm and said "You're OK, aren't you? Nothing wrong?"

I could feel the heat from his hand on my arm, burning through the thin material of my shirt.

"I'm fine Paul. Just having a small problem with the quarterly report but nothing I can't work out by tomorrow." As I said this I moved slightly back, waiting for the explosion of swearing that normally occurred when I said something he did not want to hear.

"Let's take a look at the report together and see what the problem is." He patted my arm and motioned to his office. I walked in front of him in a daze. I think I liked it better when he was yelling at me this concerned understanding was making me nervous.

I went to take a seat on the visitors chair facing his desk. "No, you take my chair at the PC and bring up the report." He said pointing to his large, leather, swivel chair. One of best parts of being a Director was getting one of these chairs rather than sitting on the bottom numbing typist seats they gave all of us workers.

I nodded and moved to the chair. As I sunk into it, I could feel his warmth, retained by the leather, surround my thighs and bottom. I could feel my body react and looked down to see my nipples suddenly harden and push against my lacy white bra. I only hoped that he would not notice. I really should have worn a more concealing shirt; under my suit jacket this morning the shirt had been perfectly acceptable, now, alone with Paul it seemed too revealing and I had definitely left too many buttons undone.

I logged into his PC quickly and brought up the report that was causing all my problems. I was very aware of him standing directly behind me, his hands on the back of the chair, watching my every move.

"It's the inventory sold out vs. the sales reported, I just can't make it match." I pointed to the screen as I spoke.

Paul was standing behind the chair and leaned in closer to look at the screen. He turned to look at me, our lips were inches apart. I could feel his breath and the bitter sweet smell of his aftershave drifted towards me.

He took the mouse and highlighted the sum at the bottom of the column of numbers. "That's your problem, Tania. The formula is wrong."

"Maybe you ought to take your glasses off; you might see the problem more clearly." He muttered. He reached down and removed them.

"What are you doing?" I squealed and grabbed at the glasses now held out of my reach. His hands gripped either side of the chair, it turned and my legs were trapped between his as he leaned over me.

"Little Miss Perfect, not getting her sums right?" His voice had thickened, the drawl even more pronounced as his eyes moved from my face to my breasts, swelling out of my shirt. "Well, what shall we do about that?"

I could feel the flush of red sweep up my face as I looked up at him. "I don't know what you think you are doing, Paul." I tried to keep my voice steady but it sounded small and frightened in that office. We were the only people there; no one was going to come to my rescue. My eyes darted to the door.

He laughed. His eyes crinkled at the corners, amused to see my panic. "It's just you and me, Tania. I don't think you'd reach that door, do you?"

"Paul ...." His lips silenced my voice, and as his tongue pushed into my mouth, I surprised myself by welcoming it. His hands moved from the chair to my shoulders and pulled me deeper into his kiss. Our lips clung together as our tongues danced, sending shivers deep to my core. I could feel myself getting warm and moist as I pushed my heavy breasts against his chest.

"I knew I was right about you." He grinned as he spoke. "A good little girl, always doing as she's told, I bet."

"Now, all naughty girls who cannot do their sums deserve punishment, don't you agree?" His hands caressed my shoulders, moving slowly down my arms; sending shivers through my body as he pulled me up out of the chair and against him.

I could feel the hardness of his arousal as he gripped me tightly to him and nestled his lips into my hair. He swung me around, sat in the big leather chair and pulled me down onto his lap.

"I can think of several punishments for you but let's begin slowly." His voice was almost hypnotic as I sat astride his lap. My skirt rose up past my black, stocking tops and my moist sex spread over his groin. His hands moved to my shirt and began slowly releasing buttons to more fully reveal my breasts.

"Paul, we shouldn't." I tried to move from his lap but his arms allowed no movement.

"Mmmmm." He groaned. "Very nice". He ignored my hopeless struggles and his lips trailed a line of desire over the tops of my breast and into the valley between them, as his hands continued opening my shirt. I watched with disbelief as my nipples hardened and his seeking mouth began sucking one. I moaned unwillingly, as the sucking sent sensations directly to my core, and my hips began to grind my sex against his hardness. His tongue flicked across the nipple, rolling the tip in his mouth.

I was so wet; slippery with desire to be taken by this man who seemed to know instinctively what my body needed.

His hand moved up to my head and tangled in my hair. Pulling my mouth down to his he kissed me deeply, sucking on my full lower lip and forcing more moans from deep within me.

I could feel his hand moving my skirt further up my thighs, exposing my black lace knickers that were now soaking from the juices spilling out of my pussy. His continued kisses sending all thoughts of resistance out of my mind as his hand moved the lace aside and began gently stroking my engorged clit. My wetness made his fingers slide across the sensitive centre; I pushed down to get even closer to the pleasure he was sending through me.

"Slowly, slowly." He murmured. His fingers rolled against my clit and groans spilled from my lips against his. I could feel him smile as I heard him unzip his trousers and felt the head of his cock rigid against my pussy.

He moved my body into position and as I drove down to meet him, the full length of his cock entered and filled me. I began to raise and fall greedily, the feel of his slick, hardness moving me to groan frantically. His hands clasped my bottom and slowed my rapid grinding. He lifted me off and back down at the speed he wanted as his lips found my rigid nipples and suckled.

I could feel my arousal building and strangled sobs escaped my lips as I moved up and down. "Please, please Paul." I gripped his shoulders as the first contractions of my orgasm began.

He increased his speed and his cock drove in and out of me, as my orgasm exploded around him. As I cried out, he buried himself deep and I felt his cum spurt into me. I collapsed against his shoulder and he gently stroked my back, kissing my neck until the last shudders had passed.

"So, the next report you bring me will be correct?" He growled the words against my neck.

"Totally, Sir." I smiled.