tagBDSMBurning the Midnight Oil

Burning the Midnight Oil


I was working late on a deadline, burning the midnight oil, the last one in the office. My case load has been so hectic lately. I had discovery on 5 different cases due the next day, and oppositions and replies to research and prep for my boss, so there I sat, after hours, all alone, past closing hours, glued to my computer, typing like my hands were possessed. My mind was a blur of interrogatories and requests for production, motions and briefs and affidavits, oh my!

My desk was a big "u." Facing the wall on one side sat my computer, on the otherside sat open work space; in between were shelves stacked with files. As I finalized the draft of one motion, I turned to begin stamping the exhibits for it, and nearly jumped out of my skin and let out a little shriek, for there in the chair next to the doorway sat my boss.

He had an amused smirk on his face.

"Good lord, Mark, you nearly scared the daylights out of me!" I exclaimed accusatorily.

He smiled broadly, white teeth contrasting nicely against his tan face. "Sorry about that, you were so engrossed it was easy." He shrugged. "I brought dinner, thought you could use a break." He held up a bag of Chinese take-out."

I looked at the clock. It was after 9 already. "Damn, I completely lost track of time. I'm starved, thanks." I gestured for him to pull up his chair, and cleaned the stacks of exhibits and documents off of my workspace. He pulled out cartons of food, aromatic spices assaulting my nose. "I thought you were in Seattle for depositions."

"My flight landed a couple of hours ago," he explained. "Figured I'd stop by here and relieve you."

"Thanks," I said, grabbing a fork and digging into spicy kung pow chicken. "How'd you know I was here?"

Mark laughed. "I'm out of town, you're always here covering my ass."

I smiled ruefully. "Someone's got to."

"And believe me, I appreciate it. I know we've been swamped lately, but hopefully we can settle some of these cases and you can cash in some of your vacation." He was eating mongolian beef with chopsticks. Damn, that was my favorite. I'd never managed to get the knack of chopsticks down, but Mark weilded them flawlessly with skilled hands.

"Ah, and take that trip to Tahiti that I've always wanted," I snorted. "Do you know what I do with my time off? I shampoo my carpets and rearrange the furniture." I stabbed another piece of chicken mercilessly with my fork.

"You can't be serious." He shook his head.

I shrugged. "Travel is expensive. Besides, I like it here, why leave? I have such a grand view." I gestured to my window behind me, which had an amazing view of the parking garage in the lot below me.

He laughed. "Now I know you jest. I just don't want you burning out on me."

"I know, I know, what would you do without me?" I smiled. "Don't worry, if I was burning out, you'd be the first to know, because I wouldn't be here late at night covering your ass." I stuck my tongue out at him.

Mark was a cool boss. Well, for an attorney anyway. We'd always had a good camadarie around the office, things were casual and we were always joking around and lightly flirting, much to the straight-laced office manager's chagrin. It made for a fun work environment, though; I legitimately enjoyed my job.

He sighed in relief. "That's good, because I'd be lost without you."

I rolled my eyes. "Now that's laying it on a little think, don't you think? Let me guess, you're planning on taking a trip to Hawaii as soon as snow falls and want to make sure I'll be here to handle things while you're gone and fedex you anything that needs a signature."

"Oh, now I wouldn't do that, would I?" He smiled innocently.

I gave him a suspicious look. "Innocent is not a good look for you. And yes, you would." I took another bite out of my carton, staring pointedly at him. "You could always wash my carpets, and I could go to Hawaii instead." I smiled broadly.

He chortled. "Oh, let's not be unrealistic, shall we? Do you really need your carpets cleaned so badly? I'd be happy to rent a steam cleaner at my expense if it would keep you happy."

I smiled. "Well, a raise might be nice, but my house isn't all that filthy, honest."

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "A raise, huh? I guess you are kind of overdue for a review, I suppose we can discuss terms."

I chewed and swallowed slowly. "What kind of terms?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Hold that thought," he said, standing up. "I brewed some coffee, be right back."

He returned a moment later with two steaming mugs of hot java, and handed me one. I inhaled the rich aroma. I love coffee. I'm a bit of a coffee snob, so I make sure we keep good stuff in the office. I took a sip. "Oh, that hits the spot. You must have been reading my mind. Now, where were we? Oh yes, terms." I set my mug on my desk.

He nodded his head. "I think its high time we review your job performance."

I leaned back in my chair, unperturbed. I was a hard worker, and very professional, he had nothing to complain about. "Ok, shoot."

He leaned forward, elbows on my desk. "Well, for starters, you talk too much on the internet."

I laughed out loud. "Yeah, to you. Its a vast improvement over the paper airplanes you used to throw at me to get my attention."

He smiled at that remark. "Exactly, only to me, never to anyone else. I keep thinking I can catch you slacking on the job or something, but nope, you've never slipped."

"Slacking?" I dropped my jaw. "This is my job, I take it very seriously."

"Too seriously," he said. "You're always early, you rarely take breaks, you often work through lunch, you work after hours far too much, and you're very professional. In fact, you're too professional."

"What do you mean, 'too professional?' There's no such thing!" I scoffed.

"You hardly ever talk about your personal life, you never dress down, even on casual fridays you wear skirts. You never cut loose. For all our joking around, its always business with you. Its hardly human!" He said accusatorily.

"I keep my personal life separate from business. It simplifies things," I explained. "And what's wrong with the way I dress? I happen to like skirts. I own enough of them, I might as well get my money's worth out of them, and I look better in skirts than pants." I said in defense.

"There's nothing wrong with the way you dress, you always look great. It would just be nice to see you loosen up a little." He shrugged.

"I'm not uptight!" I protested. "Do you remember the Christmas party?"

He laughed. "I didn't say you were uptight, and yes, I well remember the party. Well, most of it, any way."

"Yeah, I seem to recall you tied on one too many that night," I teased. I'd actually kind of hoped he'd forgotten that night. I chalked it up to the open bar, the fact that he'd cornered me and kissed me. As nice as it was, and as welcome the invitation, I knew he didn't mean it. I don't like mixing business with pleasure, and Mark, for all of his good qualities, is not someone I dared open myself up to. That's just playing with fire.

"And you didn't. Exactly my point! You never let your guard down, or rock the boat, or lose control, or loosen up, and yet you wear those distracting skirts every day. You're so tightly wound up I'm afraid you're going to explode one of these days from the pressure."

I glared at him. "So, in other words, you want me to get drunk and wear boring jeans and talk dirty to strangers on the internet, is that what you're saying?"

He pointed a finger at me. "Now you're mocking me."

"No," I pointed a finger right back at him. "Now you're mocking me. I don't dare let my guard down here, that's just an accident waiting to happen."

"I would never mock you," he said softly. "I just wish you were a little more personal."

I was admittedly a bit confused at that statement. My stomach did a little flip-flop. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean --" and with that, he leaned forward, and knocked my coffee mug off my desk, splashing hot coffee all over my shirt, my skirt, and me.

I jumped up and gasped. "Oh god, that's hot, that's hot, that's hot!" I exclaimed, pulling the fabric away from me in a desperate attempt to cool it off.

He was on his feet in an instant. "Oh god, I'm so sorry, did I burn you?"

I looked at him. "No, thank god. I'm just wet, and probably stained." Coffee was dripping off of me onto the floor. My cream blouse was plastered to me, and splotched with dark spots. My beige skirt was completely soaked in front.

He ran out the door to the break room and was back in a few seconds with a roll of paper towels. He ripped off some towels and started blotting my skirt and blouse. "I am so sorry. I guess I owe you that raise now. Or at least a new outfit."

I looked down at my boss, with papertowels in hand, trying to dry me off, and the ridiculousness of the situation finally got to me. I started laughing out loud. "Look at me!" I laughed. "I look like I wet myself! If you wanted me to not wear a skirt, you didn't have to go spilling stuff on me."

He looked up at me, repentant. "It was an accident."

I nodded my head. I picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, determined it wasn't blisteringly hot anymore, and then deliberately dumped it squarely on his back, while he was on his knees blotting my skirt.

He quickly jumped up, yelped, and ripped his shirt off. "You didn't have to do that!" He said, with a scowl, standing there bare chested. He had a nice chest, evenly tanned, nice abs, and very little hair. I couldn't help but admiring.

"Now we're even," I smirked.

"Oh, you are going to get it." He grabbed me by the waist, and shoved me down on my desk, started fumbling with my buttons. I struggled, trying to shove him off, gasping and laughing, but he was too strong, and with a quick jerk of his hand, buttons went flying, and my wet shirt was completely undone, exposing my equally wet bra. My chest heaved.

"Are you happy?" I asked. He loomed over me, pinning me to my desk with his hands on my arms. "Now its truly ruined." My stomach was doing flip-flops again.

He flashed his white smile at me again. "Now we're even." He leaned closer, and licked up a drop of coffee that had collected below my clavicle. I inhaled sharply. "My my," he breathed, "You are a dirty girl now."

"Well, you wanted me to loosen up, I guess you weren't joking." I said softly.

He licked my neck lightly, sending a wave of goosebumps coursing across my skin. "Its a start," he whispered into my ear. He bit my neck gently.

"What are you doing?" I hissed. He was my boss. This was hardly professional. As much as I was enjoying this sudden change of pace, it just felt so wrong.

"What I should have done at that Christmas party." He bit the other side of my neck, harder. "Why, do you want me to stop?"

"Yes!" I whispered fiercly. "No," I countered. "I don't know. This is just all too weird."

"Weird how?" He said, nibbling on my ear.

I pushed him off me and sat up and sighed. "Because you're my boss, and tomorrow when we both show up at the office, and its business as usual, what then?"

He sighed. "There you go, getting all professional on me, just when you were starting to crack. Who says it has to be business as usual tomorrow? And dear god, please tell me what it is going to take to get you to crack!"

Well," I said thoughtfully, "For starters, how about a clean shirt?"

He smiled. "I've got a clean dress shirt in my office. Unfortunately, my dear, my spare pants aren't going to fit you, and I think my shirt might be a bit large on you, but its the best I can offer at the moment."

"Deal," I said, standing up. Mark went across the hall to his office and returned with a white dress shirt, the spare one he keeps in his office for court. He handed it over to me.

I stared at him a moment, deliberating. I knew that this was the moment that could make or break this situation. Either I could take the bait and let caution fly in the breeze, or I could shut him down. The question was, which would I regret more? Granted, the man was sexy. 40, single, flirtatious, and fun, but he seemed to go through women like paper towels, never taking anyone seriously. He also seemed a bit tame to me. I didn't let my guard down around work because I'm a bit of a kinky freak, and I'm very picky about whom I let get to know the real me, and as hot as he was, he might just be boring. But was I bored now? Hell no. He had me intrigued. I pride myself in being a rather inciteful person, but after two years of working together, somehow I'd failed to pick up on the hint that he wanted more than just a professional relationship. Plus I was horny, I hadn't had any good quality sex in a while, and I knew that it wouldn't affect how I felt working for him; I didn't know how it would affect him though. I decided right then and there that I didn't care. He was a grown man, he could make his own decisions.

I turned around. "Can you help me with my bra?" I asked, baiting him right back. I felt his warm hands on my back, and then my bra went slack. I slid it off my shoulders. "Can you help me with my zipper?" His hands moved from my back to my waist, and he deftly unzipped my zipper. I wiggled my hips a bit, and the skirt fell in a wet pool at my feet. I stood there, with my bare back to my boss, wearing nothing but my thong, my thigh highs, and my heels. I slipped his shirt on, and turned around, leaving it unbuttoned. The arms dangled well past my hands. I smiled up at him. He was tall, a good foot taller than me, even with my heels on. "Can you help me with my buttons?"

He grabbed me by the shirt and pulled me close. "No," he said shortly, staring down at me, lust in his eyes. "If you want them buttoned, you'll have to do it yourself. I like this look on you."

"You do? I could always wear this to work, if it'd make you happy," I said coyly.

He laughed sharply. "Your short little skirts are distracting enough, I don't think I'd get any work done if you were walking around here like that all the time."

"But would I still get a raise?" I said with false innocence.

"A different kind of raise." He winked at me. He picked me up and sat me down on my desk. He leaned down and kissed me; lightly at first, and then more insistently, and his tongue slipped in my mouth. I spread my legs, wrapping them around his torso, and pulled him in closer. He laced his fingers through my hair and, with a tight grip, intensely kissed me as if the world was going to end. Oh, and how I wanted him then. There was a fire in my chest that was smoldering.

He broke the kiss and bit my lip. "This is how the Christmas party should have gone," he said, his voice ragged.

"mmm," I murmered. "You gave up too easily."

"Bullshit," he scoffed. "You weren't interested."

"I was too, you just gave up without a fight. You didn't take command of the situation."

"Is that all it takes to get you to crack?" He slid a hand inside my shirt and pinched my nipple. "Someone to take command of the situation?" He pinched harder. I gasped. Oh, that hurt. It felt so good, it hurt so good, he was definitely getting a handle on the situation, no pun intended.

"Something like that," I hissed between my teeth. My jaw was clenched, my breaths were getting hard as he pinched and twisted my nipple. He let go suddenly, and I shuddered and gasped; I nearly came right then and there, just from a nipple pinch.

He laughed in delight. "Well well, this is a whole new you! Now I see why you're always so professional around here, you don't want anyone to get to know the real you." He bent down and kissed me. "And all this time I thought you were a cold fish. You're a masochistic little slut, aren't you?"

I blushed beet red. I didn't quite know what to say. I'd been completely outed in front of my boss. From some people, I'd take that as a compliment, but from Mark? I didn't know how to take it. I was taken utterly off-guard

He kissed the tip of my blushing nose. "You're adorable when you blush." He had the biggest grin on his face.

"Please don't tell anyone," I asked imploringly.

"Oh my dear, I might exploite that, but I wouldn't ever tell anyone. We all have our own secrets to hide," he assured me.

My ears perked up. "Exploit that? How?"

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, playing with my other nipple. "Oh, I don't know, have you take dictation with your tongue. I've always wanted an assistant who'd take dictation with her tongue."

I grinned wickedly, and slipped down onto my knees, swiftly unbuttoning his fly, and whipped out his semi-hard cock. I licked it from base to tip, and slowly sucked it into my mouth. He exhaled loudly. With a moan, I got down to business, sucking long and hard on his cock, until it became fully engorged. Oh, how I love sucking cock.

He grabbed me by my hair and shoved me down on his cock, until I nearly choked and I couldn't breathe, then pulled me back. Over and over he repeated it, until slobber was dripping down onto his shoes, and tears were in my eyes. "Oh god, you're good." He pulled me off, and pulled me up onto my feet again. I wiped my mouth off on the sleeve of his shirt that I was wearing. He grinned at me. "Looks like you got the raise you were looking for. Tomorrow I want you under my desk taking dictation."

I laughed out loud. "There goes our productivity, right out the window."

"You let me worry about that. Right now, I want you out of that shirt, before I ruin it, too. I'm rather fond of that one." He yanked it down my arms and tossed it into the spare chair on the other side of my desk. I stood there, once again, wearing nothing but my thong, my thigh highs and my shoes. "God, you are so sexy. I've wanted to see you like this since I met you." He ran his hands along my torso. I shivered. "Come with me," he ordered, grabbing me by the hand and leading me out the door.

We walked across the hall into his office. He picked up a pile of files that were on his desk and set them on top of his filing cabinet. "Lay down." he pushed me down onto the now-empty side of the desk. I laid back onto the hard, unyielding surface.

"You ought to consider investing in a padded desk," I said, rapping on the hard wood with my knuckles.

"Is that so?" He asked me. "How about you just shut up and lie there? I'm going to explore you, and I don't want any interruptions." He tweaked a nipple in punctuation. I yelped, but didn't bother to reply. This was a side of my boss I'd never seen before, and I was liking it.

He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. I raised one eyebrow, and looked at him suspiciously. He ran the sharp point across the soles of my feet lightly, a tickling scratch. I giggled and wiggled my foot, trying to escape.

He slapped my thigh with his free hand. "Hold still!"

I bit my lip, and willed myself to stillness, trying to ignore the tickle. The sharp point moved up my leg, slowly, drawing inexorably closer to my torso, until he reached my thong. With a quick snip of the scissors, he cut my underwear off of me, at each hip. With a yank, pulled them off of me completely, and I lay there utterly exposed, in front of him.

He ran the flat edge of the blade deftly through my moist pussy lips. I shuddered and moaned. He held the scissors up, glistening with my wetness, and licked them. He grinned wickedly at me. "I'm going to have to work more overtime with you, I can tell."

He leaned down, and sucked my clit into his mouth, biting down. I let out a howl, arched my back, grabbed his head by his hair, and shoved him into my crotch. He sucked, and licked, and bit me, and coherent thought fled. I writhed underneath him, and as an orgasm built and engulfed me, I convulsed underneath him, and tried to shove him off me. He grabbed me by my hips fiercely, and held me tight.

I looked down at him, gasping for breath. He looked up at me, heat in his eyes. He licked his way up my torso gently, until his face hovered over mine. He kissed the tip of my nose. Lord, I couldn't take it. I grabbed his head, and kissed him, ferociously, as if I could devour him, his face covered with my juice, my face now covered with my own.

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