My Wife, Our Stories, Her Boss

I didn't want my wife Amanda to have to go back to work. After we had the kids she wanted to stay home, and I was proud to support the family as she spent time being a mom. And even once the kids were both in school I had hoped she would never need to work full time.

But times were hard.

My career wasn't taking off the way I--or we--had hoped. I was stuck in middle-management. We had enough money to get by, but it was becoming increasingly clear that we weren't really getting anywhere, not with my income alone.

So in the end, after much discussion, Amanda decided, at 36, to head back into the workforce, taking a job as an executive assistant at an investment firm downtown.

It was pretty fucking far from her dream. And I knew she resented me for it--or maybe just life or fate or luck or whatever was responsible. Whatever. It was pretty fucking far from ideal for her.

And I could sense things changing as soon as she went back to work. Changing in the way we related physically, the way we touched, what we fantasized about.

From the very beginning of our relationship I always suspected that I found her just a little hotter than she found me. Actually, make that a lot hotter than she found me. I'm OK in most departments, or almost OK. But Amanda was beyond words. She had been a dancer, and her body was perfect in the ways only a dancer's body can be. Long legs and arms, capable of singular elegance . . . and--let's be honest here--her tits were . . . again, just fucking beyond.

Over time we'd been connecting a little less physically, which seemed to me inevitable as we aged. She would still do her wifely duty of getting me off from time to time, but it was increasingly apparent that she conceived of it as a duty. There was less intercourse; there were fewer oral sessions. And there were far more hand jobs---or scenarios in which she would encourage me to jerk off as she held me, maybe telling me a naughty story to help me get aroused.

I knew it wasn't doing much for her, but I was weak. She was hot, she turned me on, and I'd do anything I could to feel her body against mine as I came.

Ultimately she discovered--we both discovered--that she could get me to come faster if she told me stories of imagined infidelities. From relatively innocuous tales of crushes and kisses to things a little more hard core. I couldn't quite explain why it got me off--maybe I was just working through the guilt I felt for not being able to support her properly, or satisfy her properly. Maybe I was just trying to cope with the humiliation I felt for all this. Whatever. All I knew is that it was as hot as fuck, and I was becoming addicted.

So, now that she was back at work, some of her stories inevitably began to center on the cast of characters in her office, all of whom I knew, which added to both the authenticity and the excitement. She'd tell me of a hot 25-year-old in the mailroom who had fucked half the girls in the office, of a distinguished-but-still-sexy 53-year-old client who was cheating on his wife. But ultimately her stories all began to revolve around her boss, Eric. Eric was a charismatic guy: 45, six-foot-two, well-built, with just a hint of gray in his hair (though he had quite a bit more of his hair left than I did). And given the power he had over her as her boss, he was the perfect object of desire for Amanda and I to imagine in our stories. And over time, I began to sense that there was indeed some trace of attraction there for Amanda too, as she was able to tell better, more detailed, more believable stories of her infidelity when they centered on Eric.

I'm not naive, and I've read enough erotic stories in my time to know that sleeping with the boss is hardly a rare fantasy for women. So I was excited to think that Amanda might be getting at least some pleasure out of these fantasies too. She had always been so good, so faithful, so restrained (and sometimes so distant). It was pleasing to think that we had connected on something sexual--even if it did basically involved both of us getting off thinking about her fucking a guy she seemed to respect more than me.

She'd touch my cock slowly and start by saying something like, "baby, I'm sorry, but I have to tell you about something that happened at work today." That's all it took. I would be lost to my perverse desires.

"Tell me, baby. Tell me what happened . . . I won't be mad . . . just tell me everything."

"Well," she would continue, "I accidentally messed up a mail merge and it caused some problems with Eric and a client, so he had to call me into his office."

"Yes . . . "

"And, well, you know how when I go in there, I get a little scared . . . and a little excited . . . all at once?"

"Yes . . . tell me babe . . . I won't be mad . . . just tell me what happened . . . I need to know."

"OK--I knew that I'd messed up bad, and I just didn't want Eric to be angry. So I asked him if maybe there wasn't some way I could make it up to him. I said I'd do anything . . . that I knew it had been a stressful week for him . . . that I'd do anything to take that stress away. Do you know what I mean, babe?"

"Yes, I think I know what you mean. Did Eric?" I knew this was all made up, but fuck did it feel real. I wanted to keep pushing and pushing to get her to take the story further, further than she had gone before.

"Well he's not naive, not innocent--god knows he's not at all innocent from what I've heard. So he knew what I was offering."

"Fuck that is so hot--what happened next?"

"He stood up and walked out from behind his desk." She shifted to grab my balls as she went on, "God, babe, he looked so pissed off at me, and so fucking good. Why do I want him so bad when he is so cruel to me?"

"Sometimes it just works that way," I said, my cock hardening rapidly, "besides, I don't think he's really pissed off at you. I just think he wants to fuck you."

My wife laughed a bit, no beginning to play with the head of my rock hard cock. "No no--sweet I know this is only a fantasy, but that's taking it too far. I'm just an old housewife headed back to work. He fucks the 23-year-olds in the office, he doesn't need that from me."

"Don't be too sure, you are hotter than any of the girls I've seen in the office," I said, truthfully. "But also, don't worry--It's just a fantasy," I whispered, not wanting to break the mood and get into a discussion about all this. "Come on, just tell me a little more."

"OK--let's agree to disagree on that one. I think all he wanted from me is submission. He wanted me on my knees, and he wanted his thing in . . . well, you know . . ."

"No---tell me---I told you, I won't get upset---just tell me, I need to know."

"Ugh--do I really have to spell it out for you?" she asked, laughing again and clearly back into it. "He wanted me to suck his cock! He told me to unbuckle his belt and take it out, then he asked me to suck it."

"And you did, didn't you--you sucked it, didn't you Amanda?"

"Yes babe. I did. I didn't resist for more than a moment. Because I wanted to do it. I can't explain. I felt like I owed it to him, like I was there to give him what he needed. He was my boss, and it was my job to satisfy him. I couldn't really stop myself."

She looked at my cock, now as hard as can be. "Go ahead sweetie---rub that little cock for me. Show me how excited you are that I did that for Eric."

I didn't need to be asked twice. I jerked my cock like there was no tomorrow as Amanda made up more tidbits and whispered them in my ear.

"Babe, I'm not sure if you want to know more or not, do you need any more details or are you going to cum just imagining me sucking him? Do you need to know if I made him feel good? If I made him come? Do you want to know if it tasted different? If it felt different?" (She was clearly getting into it, and into the effect it was having on me). "Ohhhhhh----I knowwwww. Boys always want to know if it was a different size. Do you want to know that? Do you want to know if it was a different size baby? I bet you do . . . "

This almost sent me over the fucking edge, but I held it together long enough to say, "fuck yes babe--tell me--I need to know. Was he bigger than me?"

"I'm not sure that you REALLY want to know that, but if you insist, yes. Yes he was. He was a lot bigger. I could tell, even with my eyes closed as I took the head in my mouth. Then I wrapped my hand around it--make that my hands around it--as I sucked, and I could really notice the difference. I love you baby--I really do--but there was something about that cock that I just had to submit to. So I sucked and I sucked until I got his cum---I had to have it---I wanted it my pussy baby, but if I couldn't have that then I'd take it in my mouth----I'd take it anywhere he'd give it to me . . . you understand, don't you babe?"

That fucking did it. I exploded with cum like never before---it went all over my chest and her tits. Amanda laughed a bit.

"Wow--that really did if for you, didn't it?"

I immediately began to feel just a little ashamed, "I'm sorry for being so bad---that didn't gross you out, did it?"

"No, sweet--I love you, and I'm glad I could help you feel that way. And it was fun for me too---I sometimes like to think about crazy things too."

NOW things were taking a turn. In spite of the fact that I'd just come, this small admission made my cock twitch again. Was she into this? Was this getting her off too? There was one way to find out . . .

"Wait---did YOU get excited during that story? I thought you were doing that just for me--if you are close to getting off too, is there something I can do for you? What if I give your pussy little kisses as you imagine things? What if I touch you with my hands as I whisper in your ear?"

And this ended up being a moment that nudged our relationship in an entirely new direction.

"Oh I don't know babe--I know this stuff gets you off, and I want you to feel good, so sometimes I try to imagine things myself so that I can tell a better story for you. And this time--I don't know--I felt some tingles."

I could have turned back here, but pressed on.

"That's fantastic, Amanda--I WANT you to feel good--why don't you let ME continue your little story while I touch you?"

She purred in response and opened her legs. As my fingers worked their way between the lips of her pussy I felt a silky smooth wetness that indicated she really had worked herself up. So I tried my best to keep the story going.

"Babe what if you didn't finish him off with your mouth---what if he decided he wanted a little more than that?"

"Mmmmm . . . tell me more . . . what do you mean?" she cooed, her body now twisting and writhing to meet my hand as I slowly slowly began to circle her clit.

"What if he decided that he was going to take you, to have you---to fuck you, right there, on his desk? What if he stood you up and turned you around and bent you over that desk. Would you stop him?"

"Oh baby . . . I don't know . . . I don't want to be bad . . ."

"It's OK, it's just a fantasy . . .go with it . . . what would you do? Would you stop him?"

"Oh . . . sweetie . . . no, I don't think I would." She could barely get the words out now. I could tell that I could push her over the edge at any moment now, but I wanted to take the fantasy further.

"I don't think you even could stop him. He has this force and power about him that you can't resist." I heard more moans; I knew I was on the right track.

"I think what he'd do is push your head down towards the desk and lift your skirt up. I think he'd trace the contours of your hips and your ass with his fingers until you were shivering . . . shivering almost uncontrollably. I think he'd get you to the point where you were almost ready to beg for it." I moved my hands to match the contact points and trajectories I described, helping her get closer and closer to imaging all of this really happening. My fingers traced her hips, her ass, they worked their way inside her panties to the folds of her pussy, the soft moistness I felt inside.

"Mmm-hmm," she cooed. "Oh God, yessss . . ."

"Ahhh--so that's what he'd do---is that what you'd want him to do, you naughty girl? To make you beg for it? Would you really get that slutty for him? You'd really cheat on your husband for him?"

"Oh God . . ."

I now kissed my way down her body, from her lips, to her tits, to her navel, to the line where her panties met her body, ultimately kissing her pussy through the thin layer of soft fabric that separated my lips from her pussy.

As I kissed her through her panties my fingers slowly traced their edge, around her ass, her lower back, her inner thigh.

"Babe, do you think he'd pull these off? Make you take them off? Or would he just pull them to the side forcefully like this?" As I said this I pulled her panties to the side and gave her pussy the deepest kiss I could, my tongue entering her until she involuntarily emitted a moan a little unlike any I had heard from her before.

"Oh god babe that feels good---don't stop---don't stop kissing me---don't stop telling me your story . . . "

With this encouragement, I took things up another notch.

As I kissed the lips of her cunt I teased and teased her, "I think he'd rub the head of his cock right here, right where I'm kissing now. Can you imagine that sweetie? The big head of your boss's cock right here, rubbing your slit?"

"Oh God . . ."

"Is that what he'd do babe?"

"Yesssss"

"Would

As I said this I worked my head down towards her pussy, kissing as I told the story. As I kissed the lips of her cunt I teased and teased her, "I think he'd rub the head of his cock right here, right where I'm kissing now. Can you imagine that sweetie? The big head of your boss's cock right here, rubbing your slit?"

"Oh God," she shuddered," yessss . . ."

"What if he made you beg for it babe? What if Eric made you beg for his cock? What if he just rubbed the tip of it right here, where my tongue is, but he refused to put it in? What would you say? Can you tell me what you'd say?"

She was about to lose it.

"Oh . . . fuck! Eric I need your cock. Please put it in me baby. Please fuck me. Oh my God I need to be fucked by your cock---I need that huge cock inside of me."

At this point I put two fingers in to begin massaging her g-spot, not quite the cock she was looking for, but she was so lost in the fantasy that I don't know if she knew up from down.

"Oh god, yes--lick me baby! . . . Fuck me Eric! Fuck me harder . . . I think I'm going to come on your cock . . . "

I kissed and worked my fingers deeper inside of her, with my other hand I squeezed her breasts and delicately pinched her nipples--I could feel her g-spot and clit getting aroused--I knew she was close.

"Fuck--babe--don't stop . . . tell me more"

I lifted my mouth from her pussy long enough to say, "He's fucking you baby---can you feel it? Can you feel his cock inside you, touching your special spot? Are you going to come on it babe? Are you going to come on your boss's cock? Is Eric going to make you come?"

"Fuck--yes!! Yessss . . ."

"Do you want him to keep going? Do you want your boss to come inside you? Do you want him to fill you up? Tell him babe---tell Eric what you want . . ."

"Fuck---Eric . . . oh god . . . fill me up Eric . . . come inside me . . . take my pussy . . . it's yours . . . you own my cunt . . . make me come with you . . . just don't stop fucking me . . ."

I had never heard her talk like this--I didn't know half of these words were in her vocabulary. And I definitely didn't know she could come as hard as she came then. I felt her whole body shudder and then release--it was easily one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever seen her experience.

She was the one that broke the silence: "Oh my god babe, that was so so great---you aren't upset with anything I said, are you?"

"No," I said, "I love that you feel comfortable fantasizing about this with me. I love that it makes you come so hard. Obviously a part of me is jealous, but as you know, that turns me on a little bit. And holy fuck was this a turn on."

"Thanks babe--I don't know quite how to explain it, but I just loved both things--both the thought of Eric fucking me AND the feelings I was getting from your tongue and from you holding me and loving me. That's how I know that it's just a fantasy, and that the main thing for me is feeling you and loving you."

I'm not going to lie, it felt good hearing this. And it's probably what gave me the courage to say what I said next. The thing that really changed everything.

"What if you didn't have to choose between those things? What if there was a way to have them both? Both my love and the excitement of being with him? Both my kisses and his cock? Don't you want to have it all?" I asked, teasingly.

"I don't quite know what you mean, but I'm willing to keep listening . . . "