Connie and Her Alphaboss

I sometimes hate my job. The work is great always, the company, the mission, everything is great, except one thing: we just don't have enough people and the workload is too much. This was the case again last Friday. I was hoping to get out early and have a relaxing week end. But my boss, the company owner, asked me, begged me, to stay and stay late to help him finish a proposal for a customer.

I run our finance department. There is nothing that is bought or sold there that doesn't somehow cross my desk. I'm only 30, and a woman, so this kind of role and responsibility in this field is not common. I started here when I was 22, right out of college, and after two promotions here I am. The owner when I was hired has retired, and the man who bought the plant, I really think he's the best boss anyone could have. He's retired Army, and he has various military items all over his office. Photos of himself with foreign leaders, American Presidents, and so many of himself in his uniform or otherwise looking very very masculine.

I'm still cute, or so I think, but I don't get men. They ask me out, but I rarely get a second date. I really commit to my work, and I focus on trying to be alone, so I guess I won't ever find someone. I'd love for my boss, Vlad, to come fuck me, I mean even though he's almost twenty years older than me, he's a super stud and I would love to have him shoot a load inside me. Sometimes when we are alone, in his "war room", I imagine I would just crawl under the table and blow him, suck every drop of cum out of his big cock. I never saw it, but I hear the stories from other girls who worked here who had seen it, and it's something I finger myself to at least once a week. I google girthy veiny cocks and then go to town on my box.

This proposal we're writing, it's for a two year deal to buy recycled missile parts from a company in central Asia that used to do business with the Russian government, when it was within the Soviet Union. The company was abandoned when the country got its independence from USSR, and now some thirty years later, someone bought the place and found all this stuff in their warehouse. For us, the proposal involved being very careful not to precisely tell the company how much we want their stuff. That's where Vlad comes in, he does this magic thing when he speaks, where whatever he wants you to think is exactly what you hear, and then suddenly you are thinking what he wants you to think. My job in this proposal is to make sure the money works out for us. Vlad and I worked together late night on these proposals hundreds of times, but this one was the biggest ever, and because our sales VP was on vacation, and no one on my staff could stay late, it was just he and I alone in his war room.

The war room is a big room like a conference room, with a big oval table in the middle, and then ten really nice swivel office chairs around it. There are five huge flat screens on the walls, which we can cast our laptops to, and there are three white boards too for when we need to get an idea across the old fashioned way, by writing or drawing it. Vlad has his office down the hall, but this is where he spends at least half his time, and many of us do too. He always sits at the center of the long side, he says that only betas take the head spot, and I believe anything he says about that subject, he's as alpha as they come. Usually when we are alone in here working this way, I sit next to him, but my usual seat is across from him.

This night we were close to finishing, but the last part was the hardest, working out the tiny details that would get us the contract, but hide the fact that there was a particular metal in those parts that we wanted and would have easily paid 10 times the price if we had to. As 4pm turned into seven, Vlad suddenly popped up like he was awakened from a nap, and said "holy shit Connie, I didn't even realize it was seven fucking-o-clock, it's way past your dinner time, I'm sorry!"

Vlad was a big swearer. If he didn't swear when he was talking to you, it was because he didn't like you at all, and wanted to get the conversation short and sweet and then get away from you. Me, he liked me a lot over the five years since he bought the company, so he felt free to swear around me regularly and in every sentence. But, he was never mad about it, he just couldn't not use those words. Like he didn't have a filter, or had one but didn't care. He did however care so much about every person who works here, and things like keeping us working through a meal time was a cardinal sin for him. He was genuinely upset that he had done this to me, that he immediately texted his friend at the pizza shop down the street to bring us dinner.

Vlad knew me well, he knew my favorites, we had eaten lunch and dinner together many times, so I didn't even bother worrying about what he might order me, and he didn't ask either. He told me to go take a break, that the food would be about half an hour and he'd see me here then. This was Vlad's code that he used often, to mean that HE needed a break, not from the work, but from people. Vlad and I are similar in this way, we are funny and personable and everyone is attracted to us, but we don't really enjoy the company of others. I think if he was stranded on a desert island, he'd be alpha enough to build himself an amazing world there complete with food and water and shelter and maybe even video games, but he would never even once try to leave. Me too. I took my leave and went out back to the smoking area.

I was supposed to quit smoking last year, but I didn't. I got the drugs from the doctor to quit, but I never took them. I'm sure they're expired by now. Whenever Vlad and I work together alone late like this, I don't smoke: he quit many years ago and now has an aversion to the smell. But I just hung out there on the picnic table, stretching my arms and legs and back and taking in the warming Spring air. It was April after an unusually warm Winter, so even now at 7 at night it felt nice. I played a little bit on my phone, of course my fingers drifted to google and I found myself staring at big veiny cocks, again.

I don't know why I torture myself like this. Vlad tells this story all the time, about how when he was younger he had a job in a very large retailer, and went wild fucking every cashier in the ten stores he was in charge of. His boss heard about it, and all but fired him. Vlad somehow talked the guy into letting him keep his job, but swore that he would never do anything like that at work or with anyone from work ever again. As far as I know, he kept that promise even now thirty years later. Now, I DO know he has fucked many many females from here, the day AFTER they stopped working here, but while here, he never touched anyone. For me, this was torture. Our close working relationship and similar personalities would have been automatic romance in any other story, but not ours. He's married, but from the stories he tells, he gets laid ten times a week but only once by her. I would be blowing that dude from morning till night until all that came out was dust!

My phone dinged, with Vlad's special ding. Sometimes, when he dings me late at night with some idea he has, my little pussy gets a tingle. I might be in my bed, and I reach over to read his text, somehow in my head thinking he sent me a dick pic or some fucking hot words that would make me send him a pic of my asshole or something. It's never that, but always after reading whatever he sent, I finger myself until I have to go to bed without my panties. This time, it was him telling me that the food was here.

I went back up to the war room, and there he was, with his pal from the pizza shop. I chatted a little with the guy, but I could never quite understand him. He spoke Turkish, but also English, and sometimes between his accent and his accidental drifting into his own language, I would get lost. He went back to his shop, and Vlad and I sat down at the end of the table away from our work.

Vlad got me the chicken fingers and fries. Super romantic, eh? But he knew that I LOVE chicken fingers. These things are fried, maybe twice even, and they are amazing. I get the regular ones, and he gets the buffalo ones, and then we share a little. Like I said, we are absolutely living the first half of an office rom-com movie, just the second half never happens. The whole time when we were eating, I kept putting my hand under the table to pet my cunt. My pussy was just three feet from his big dong, all it would take is for me to quit my job and pull down my yoga pants and I just know Vlad would lick me from stem to stern and then bang me till he made me pregnant. Of course none of that was going to happen, but a girl can dream, can't she?

When we finished, he offered me a water from the fridge. Vlad was a health guy, mostly, so one of the fridges in the war room was always stocked top to bottom with bottled water. If you ever spotted Vlad without a bottle of water in his hand, he either had an energy drink in that hand, or he was dead. I feel like he probably went into the shower with a bottle of water even. He brought me back a water, and the two of us sat there, chatting about the new color they painted our town's main street signposts, and sipped the ice cold water.

Again, Vlad jumped up like a bomb went off, this time, he said "Connie, I know it's late and it's probably not good for either of us," then he turned from me for a sec. In my mind, in my dirty mind, I hoped he would pull his shirt off and let me look at those pecs or rip his pants off like how strippers do and let me see that big dick head bobbing up and down. But, instead, "do you want one of my C4s?" That's an energy drink he loves, they have like ten flavors and he likes most of them, keeps the other fridge pretty well stocked with them.

I was a tiny bit disappointed, but again I never expect him ever to do anything like I see in my dreams, so no loss. I agreed to have a drink with him, I was a little tired since I was up at 4 and here at 5, and it was now 8pm already. I knew we had at least two more hours to go too. Being Friday, I could do a little sleep schedule playing and then recover over the week end. I had had one of these before, they always have some flavor like a well known candy, but they were strong, not just in the flavor but the punch. A 16 ounce drink would get you right back into the zone, and keep you there for a few hours. Just what we needed to power through this.

We got another hour into the work, and were getting close to finished. It was a masterpiece. We stood to make almost ten million dollars from this deal, over a year, and would even be able to hire ten new employees. For Vlad, this was one of his missions, he took great pride when he could hire for a new position. He always preached about work setting you free or something his grandfather used to tell him. I believed in everything he said, it always turned out on the money. He believed that if a man (or woman) worked, they wouldn't have time for trouble, and they would always have the power inside themselves to push to success. What a great message.

After that water and then the energy drink, it went right through me. At first I knew I had to pee, but I wanted to get this thing over with. Then as the minutes went by, it became urgent. The bathroom on this floor is all the way at the end, and I'm lazy. Of course I can hold it, I'm a grown lady! I powered through, and another half hour later, we were almost done. Vlad was typing up a storm, inserting my last idea and I watched his text on the big screen on the wall.

I was now shifting around in my seat a lot, trying hold my piss in. It was also now rubbing my pussy against my yoga pants and the seat, and coupled with how close I was to Vlad, I was getting very aroused. This wouldn't be the first time I had a wet spot in my pants from him, but I had to make sure it stayed from my wet pussy and not from my pissy pussy. Who pisses themselves at work? I just had to make it another ten minutes.

I was clenching now, I thought I'd explode. I had it in my head that I just couldn't run off to the bathroom, I imagined that Vlad would take it as some weakness or something. He used to tell stories from the war of the various things they used to do during the initial invasion, it made any person who heard the story feel absolutely tiny for whatever silly thing they had been complaining about recently. If he can walk 200 miles across a mountain range carrying a hundred pounds through a country full of terrorists, I could hold my piss another half hour.

But I didn't. Here I am, Connie, Chief Financial Officer, a 30 year old professional woman, and I pissed myself right in front of my boss. Oh it felt great letting it go, but my embarrassment made my face and chest feel like they were on fire. I can't believe Vlad knew, it's not like it made a noise, I just sat there with my legs crossed, hopelessly letting loose my whole bladder. These chairs are mesh, for air flow, but I hoped with everything inside my heart that I didn't leak through to the floor. No way he wouldn't hear that. I also hoped that it didn't smell pissy. For sure he would smell it right away. Who knows how he'd react. For a second, my dirty mind went right to the dirtiest place: that Vlad would smell my piss and my weakness and he would pull my pants down right there and first eat me out then plow me right through the wall with his master cock.

Of course none of that. I just pissed myself, and Vlad didn't know. He was clacking away at the keys on his laptop, and then he stopped. "DONE!" he yelled, and turned to me. I had this look on my face like I had been caught, but all he saw was how flushed I was. "Connie you ok? You need to go outside or something? Your face is all red!"

"Yea, um, Vlad, I'm fine." I didn't want to leave now, he'd be left alone in the room with the chair I'd just pissed on, for sure he would know. I had to just sit there in my wet spot, my yogapants wicking the piss down my leg and up my belly and straight into my crack. I was trapped. I had to leave after him, so I could at least steal this chair and hide it someplace or throw it away. But no way he would ever leave before me. What could I do?

He went about saving the file and sending it to the printer. By silly design, despite thinking of everything else, when Vlad built this room he forgot to put printers in here. He hated printing things out, he said it was so 80s, so maybe subconsciously he just wrote them off. But this was my chance. While he was down the hall at the printers, I could play musical chairs and shove this one out into the clerk's bullpen, into someone's cubicle. I have keys, so I could come in tomorrow and clean up all the evidence. The moment he was out the door, I moved. Rolled that chair right out the other door, and into the place where all the clerks had their cubicles. There was one I saw that looked very unoccupied, no knickknack on the desk, chair perfectly placed. I exchanged the chair with mine, and then rolled back to the war room.

I arrived just as Vlad was coming in. He caught me red-handed. I hoped he didn't care about or notice that I was pushing a chair into the room from the other side which I had no good excuse to be coming in from. Sometimes Vlad was focused in a way that he might not notice the room on fire even. This luckily was one of those times.

He plopped the packet of paper on the table, and then said, "hey, Connie, we're ready to go, get ready and meet me downstairs, I'm gonna go pee real quick, give me a few minutes." The thought of his penis waving around in free air space that I might later breathe, well I was horny again. When he was gone again, I felt around my pants. Oh they were still wet. Yoga pants do a good job of drying quickly, but I must have really soaked them. Having cotton panties on underneath probably didn't help either. I sniffed my hand, and at least my piss wasn't smelly. I hated the thought of sitting on my white leather seats in my car on the thirty minute drive home, but I didn't have many options now.

I heard doors opening and closing, Vlad coming out of the bathroom and going down the stairs. I had to go get ready to leave. I went down the hall to my office, and gathered up my bag. I did have an emergency pair of yoga pants just like these in my drawer, I could just quick change. But I was in a hurry, and I think I mentioned I'm lazy. I came out of my office, and then quick felt a twinge of piss again. I guess I didn't empty it all out when I peed my pants earlier. To surely avoid a repeat, I turned right instead of left to the stairs, and headed to the restroom. On this floor, we have just one restroom, it's one of those unisex ones, but Vlad spent a lot of money on making it really nice, with marble and expensive metal fixtures, and even a shower for those REALLY late nights.

I pushed open the door, and the automatic lights came on. I got the surprise of my life. There was Vlad, sitting on the toilet, with that big meat stick in his hand. My boss, the stud of a man Vlad, was right in front of me, jerking off. I almost came in my yoga pants just at the sight. It had been at least a decade since I saw a man jerking off, my brother accidentally when he was staying with me between semesters at his college. But this was no ordinary man, it was my boss. And it was Vlad.

I told you before that I had heard the stories that it was a very nice cock. Those stories were underselling it. I fingered myself a few hundred times to these stories, to my imagination, but really the truth was even more amazing. It was average length, but that was all that was average. The width, wow. Vlad has the biggest hands I ever saw, he claims that he wears a size 18 ring, which I never even knew existed. That ring size is a full inch across, I've seen guys with cocks that are just that wide. So with these huge hands, Vlad was still just with his fingers wrapped around it. The scale of this thing. And the head, was massive, and ridged, and the shaft was veiny like the veins you might have on your ARM, and then those balls, that big ball sack, it was like a softball.

I was looking directly at my boss' legendary penis, and his huge masculine bear hands were wrapped around it. Being the alpha Vlad is, he said what only Vlad could say, "well, Connie, this is embarrassing, you have two choices, you can stay or wait outside, I'm going to finish, I was really into it." I could have melted. This nude stud man was talking to me like he would any other place any other time, but this time it was in the bathroom at work, while his hand was wrapped around that big dick.

"Vlad, I hope you aren't kidding because I'm staying, this is a show no one would want to miss!" I took the chance. If he was joking, I hoped that we had a relationship that he would tell me he was just fucking with me and I should get out now. If he wasn't joking, well, at the least I would have the greatest sight anyone might ever see. He didn't say a word, he just got right back to it.

Vlad had a great stroke. He wasn't even using lube or spit or anything, just sliding his hand up and down his shaft, and over the head on each stroke. He at first was back to eyes closed, head pointed at the ceiling. I hoped he would look at me. I mean, if that stud man would jerk off while looking at me, and he would cum, that would be enough for me for a lifetime of masturbation.

AND HE DID IT. I can't think it was an accident, Vlad is the alpha of alphas, even though he had some self-control and professionalism, in this situation I'm sure even he doesn't have the power to resist taking advantage. Vlad opened his eyes, and turned his head toward me. I was now leaning against the sink, hands to my sides, probably with a stupid look on my face and I bet my mouth was wide open, even possibly with my tongue hanging out of my mouth and drooling.