Almost Sorry

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I should feel bad, he's my boss... but I'm not.
1.2k words
4.22
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All persons in this story are over the age of 18. All stories are my own and not to be published anywhere without my consent

Prompt: I'll fuck you until you're too tired to even speak.

---

He was watching me. He is always watching me nowadays. No shame, that one, and why should he? Tall, tan, blonde hair, blue-eyed, muscled to oblivion... the boss. The same boss who, not a week ago, had me bent over his desk begging him to make me cum.

It couldn't happen again. He's married, and my BOSS for fucks sake, not a prime candidate for a bedfellow. But here he was, practically eye fucking me for the whole office to see. Just get your work done, you moron. Keep your head down and ignore him. Pretend he doesn't exist. It was all I could do not to run out of the office.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, though I got absolutely nothing done, my mind drifting to that night. I was staring at my screen so hard I didn't notice my co-workers had all left. Or so I thought.

Packing up my things, I start to rush out. As I walk past his office, I hear him call out to me.

Jumping out of my skin, I turn to him. "Yes, Mr. Sutton?"

Sauntering to the doorframe, grinning, he takes his time looking at me from top to bottom. After what seems like an eternity, he responds.

"You have been ignoring me, why?"

"You know why," I say, pointedly looking him in the eyes. "It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened." I couldn't lose this job. But I wasn't about to tell him that.

"If I remember clearly, you enjoyed yourself quite a bit," He whispered, grazing my cheek with the back of his fingers.

Smacking his hand away, I glare at him. "That doesn't mean shit and you know it. Fuck you for thinking otherwise, you cocky bastard." Turning, I go to walk out, but before I could get too far, I am thrown against the wall.

"Quite a mouth on you, I preferred it when you were moaning my name,"

He crowds me against the wall, mouth on my ear, one hand against the wall next to my face, the other trailing down my chest. I go to leave again, but his hand flies to my throat. "I know you have been thinking about it," He whispers into my ear, nipping at the lobe. "Don't deny it."

"I haven't," I spit out, struggling. "I don't think about cocky self-centered assholes."

Growling, I'm suddenly yanked into his office, the door closing behind us. "I liked that mouth better when it was moaning. I'll fuck you until you're too tired to even speak."

Our lips crash together, and I try desperately to get him off me, but he is just too strong.

"No, what the fuck are you doing?" I manage to get out.

"Giving you what we both want."

He forces me onto the desk, chest pressing into the wood painfully. Kicking my legs apart, I curse earlier me for deciding to wear a skirt, hating the fact that he was right. I did want this, and the damp spot on my underwear tells me as much. Pressing my palms flat next to my head, I whimper as his fingers graze the edge of my underwear.

I could leave. He isn't even holding me down. I could run. Do I even want to? Finally touching my core, he groans, "I knew you wanted it."

Without warning, he rips my underwear clean off, tearing a cry from me. With full, unhindered access, he plunges a finger into me, up to the knuckle. My cunt flutters around the intrusion, remembering the last time I was bent over this desk.

My mind starts to go foggy as he continues to fuck me with his fingers, pleasure starting to rise. Adding another finger, he scissors me open. At least he has the courtesy to work me open first. Remembering how thick he is.

Turning my head to look at him, I see him staring intently at his fingers working me, his bulge obvious.

Adding another finger, I whimper, the pleasure almost hitting its peak. Pressing back against him, he forces me back down onto the desk, thrusting his fingers faster. Just as my orgasm is about to crest, he pulls out completely.

"You don't get to cum until I say so," He laughs, and I can hear a zipper as he pulls himself out of his pants.

I groan, unhappy my pleasure is interrupted. I hated that I loved this.

Rubbing the engorged head of his cock against my slit, my hips pitch backward uncontrollably, drawing a chuckle out of him.

"What a wanton whore you are. Does this turn you on, your superior teasing you with his cock?"

"Fuck you," I moan, barely able to contain myself. Just as my pleasure started up again, I shout as he pushes to the hilt inside of me.

It feels like I'm being torn apart, his thick length filling me, his pink bulbous head kissing my cervix. I swear I can feel every vein, his balls pressed firmly against my clit. I try to catch the breath that was ripped from me.

After an eternity, he pulled out up to the tip, pressing a hand to the base of my spine. He sets a punishing pace, skin slapping against skin, desk making horrific noises as it moves.

I couldn't keep up. All I could do was lay there and take the brutal pounding.

Almost to the edge again, my walls start to, trying to milk the rod inside me. Before I could think, I was empty again, shouting out of frustration. All I am rewarded with was a laugh as my fucking boss flips me onto my back, hooking my legs onto his shoulders.

Smacking his dick on my mound, I could feel my juices leak down the crack of my ass. I take deep satisfaction at the mess I was leaving.

Looking me in the eye, he pushes back into me, continuing his relenting pace. He kept my gaze, and any time I closed my eyes, he would smack my cunt, drawing a whimper every time.

Bringing his thumb to my clit, he relished in my moans, taking pleasure at the fact that I hadn't cum yet, basking in my pleasured frustrations.

Wrapping my legs around his waist, he hoists my almost ragdoll body up against the wall, and continued to pound furiously. I wrap my arms around his neck, letting him use and abuse me, and enjoying it the entire time.

I was close, so painfully close to orgasm, and I'm sure he was as well, as his thrusts started to become erratic.

"Cum for me, cum on my thick cock you little whore," Like a switch flipped inside my brain, I scream, electricity shocking through every nerve in my body. I clench so hard in my orgasm that he is nearly forced out.

Latching onto my neck, he thrusts one last time, filling me with his warm seed. I can feel every rope splash against my cervix, filling me to my brim.

Resting me back on the desk, I lay lifeless, sweat beading on my forehead, my boss' thick creamy seed leaking out of my cunt with the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm I have ever experienced. I should feel bad, he's my boss, but I'm not. I'm almost sorry.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

This is what I dream of my boss doing. So frustrating knowing we both want the other and not being able to satisfy the desire

AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

please another one!! This was amazing!

SeaReaderSeaReaderover 1 year ago

Sorry, I gotta play grammar nazi here, as two habits in both your stories detract/distract too much, keeping me from enjoying your tales as much as I'd like to.

First, you gotta stop bouncing between present and past tense. Easy to edit for dispassionately, especially if you work through backwards, ignoring content.

The other thing is, gerund phrases modify the subject, which you do correctly often, but then you modify the object. Example: "Smacking his disk on my mound, I could feel..." You weren't smacking it, he was.

Small things, but writing is so much better, and stories flow more smoothly into our thirsty minds when these details are handled properly.

Please keep writing and sharing, your stories are sexy and fun; just edit a little more tightly, and we'll be begging for more, and longer.

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