Rapunzel & The Boss

My thigh inched upwards, sliding over hers, my skirt rising with it. I pushed my weight forward, leaning more against her, my kisses moving over her temple and to her cheek again, then her jaw and her ear. She wasn't wearing earrings and I touched her earlobe with my tongue, hearing her respond with that low, half-moan half-sigh noise. I kissed her squarely behind her ear, in the gap before her hairline began, scraped back into the plait. An exposed place and yet so intimate. As I did, I pushed my thigh firmly between her legs, feeling my knee touch the wall behind her. Her breath caught and I kissed her jawline again, then kissed her mouth. She kissed back, eagerly, passionately, and I let her come to me.

"How's that for making you?" I said, breaking the kiss as I felt her pushing herself onto my thigh.

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine. "You're good," she said, a note of admiration in her breathy voice. "Boss," she added, that note replaced with one of defiance, showing she wasn't beaten yet.

"You're welcome," I replied, smiling, meeting her gaze. Then I pushed my thigh firmly upwards, into her crotch. "Bitch."

That was the first time I heard her moan properly, sexually, no half-measures. She was turned on and I felt a thrill. I didn't kiss her again, I just watched her face as she pushed herself onto me, breathing hard, a pink tinge in her cheeks now. She was gorgeous.

And just when I thought I had her panting for me, she smiled that smile, that frustrating, angering expression of hers.

"Is that all you've got, boss?" she asked, supremely calm and mocking, knowing that every syllable would rile me more. In a single movement, she pushed off the floor, straightening her legs, lifting herself off my thigh, and pulled away. I'd relaxed my grip on her, not expecting this, so she slid free of me, spinning, her pigtails flying. She stepped towards the door, slowly, unhurried.

"Get back here," I said, surprisingly composed given the circumstances. I didn't move an inch towards her.

She looked over her shoulder, an exaggerated thoughtful expression on her face. "No," she said, plainly.

"I won't ask again."

"I told you," she said, turning towards me, her hand on the door handle. "Someone's waiting for me."

I crossed the room in two strides, my heels digging into the carpet. The defiance never left her face as I approached, daring me to keep getting closer. I stopped, an inch from her, and her head tilted back, exposing her neck, her head twisted slightly sideways, so she wouldn't have to look at me and I couldn't kiss her. But I wasn't going to tolerate the balance of power going back her way.

Slowly, carefully, I touched the very tip of my finger against the tiny crease in her skin where her cleavage began. Hard enough that she could feel it, but no more. I waited until she began to react to it, turning her shoulders in the direction she was facing to pull away, and then I struck. My finger slid over her soft, exposed skin to the hem of her blouse and wrapped around it, my other hand grabbing the other side, and as she turned I wrenched. Buttons flew off, hitting me, as I ripped her shirt open, popping it right down to her tummy, and she let out a loud gasp of shock.

"Try going out like that," I said, a sharp edge to my voice as she looked at me, and I relished the stunned look on her face. Her bra was a smooth satin edged with lace, and I released my grip on her loose shirt, sliding my hands up her tummy firmly and cupping her tits through her bra, squeezing. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to show I meant business.

She looked at me, taking in my hard expression, her back arching to push her breasts more firmly into my hands, her bum up against the door.

"Fuck you," she said, not losing a trace of her defiance. "You can't tell me what to do."

I pressed myself into her and kissed her, roughly rubbing my thumbs over her bra cups to tease her nipples beneath, her breath catching again.

"That's what a boss is for, in case you didn't know," I said, my mouth close to her ear. "Telling bitches like you what to do."

She let out a sexy moan. "You can't make me," she said, the smile returning to her face as I leant back and our eyes met again.

"I don't have to," I told her, gaining confidence. "A bitch who comes to work in a bra as slutty as this must be desperate for sex."

"It isn't slutty," she insisted, as I gently tucked my fingers beneath her underwire and pulled slightly, pulling her closer to me, gripping her there so she couldn't move back. The warmth of her breasts covered the backs of my fingers, and I could feel her needy breaths making her chest rise and fall.

"It's very slutty," I corrected her. "And I bet there are equally slutty knickers that go with it."

"No," she said, quickly, but the pink glow on her cheeks told me I was right. Keeping her pressed into the door, I let go of her bra with my right hand, snaking it down over her tummy until I reached the waistband of her jeans, where her blouse was tucked. She squirmed as I kissed her neck, starting to resist my touch again. I undid the button on her trousers and then traced the waistband around her hip and over to the small of her back. She bit her lip, her eyes still fixed and defiant as I looked at her again. I moved in and brushed my lips over hers, then gently pushed my hand under the waistband. First I touched the lace edge of her knickers, feeling a rush of excitement. Then my fingers moved over the top, the rough texture of the lace only extending quarter of an inch before I found satin, just like her bra. But the satin only extended an inch, then there was the touch of lace again, and then soft skin.

"Is that a thong?" I asked, smiling, my fingers digging into her bare arse.

She shook her head, her head tilting back in the way she liked, not wanting to meet my gaze. But her lips had parted again and I could feel her arousal in every movement she made.

"Tell me, bitch," I said, adding some acid to my voice. "You got up this morning and put on your sexiest, sluttiest knickers and bra to wear to work. Why?"

"I won't tell you," she said, so irresistibly that I had to pause the conversation to lean in and kiss her again, the heat transferred from our voices to our lips, our teeth clashing momentarily as I kissed her harder and pushed my tongue over hers. Then we broke apart, both catching our breath, eyes seeking each other's.

"You don't need to tell me, I already know," I said, letting go of her bra with my left hand. She fell back a few inches against the door and I closed in, kissing her again quickly, my hand dropping to her hip. My other hand slid off her arse and up her back, over her blouse, until I reached the nape of her neck. I brushed over it, feeling the tiny hairs there against my palm, and pushed my fingers into her hair again, holding her head as we kept kissing, more urgently.

I kept her waiting, kissing her, teasing the top of her knickers beneath her jeans, until she turned her head, the intensity too much.

"Tell me what you think," she insisted, looking back at me.

"I think," I began, my hand shoving her jeans down over her hips before slipping into her knickers. She moaned, her eyes closing, and below the patch of neat hair my fingers found wetness, her knickers damp. "That you put on these knickers because you like the attention, Rapunzel." I said the last three syllables slowly and spitefully. My fingertips pressed into her clit and she moaned, louder than before, her thighs parting slightly. "You like sitting on your desk, flirting with the guys, knowing they're thinking about your big tits and your sexy arse." I began rubbing her clit in a slow rhythm, increasing the intensity until I found a sweet spot that she responded to. "And you can think, if only they knew what I was wearing underneath, they'd know how much of a slut I am."

"No," she said, breathless, and I realised she was leaning against me now, letting me support her weight with my arm around her, her legs weakening.

"You mean yes," I purred. "Imagine bending over your desk, wearing nothing but your slutty underwear, teasing them. Teasing me, your boss."

She moaned again, and I pushed my hand down, finding her pussy soaking wet and slippery. I extended one finger and pushed into her, grinding the heel of my hand into her clit now, resuming my previous rhythm. Her fingernails dug into my back through my blouse, her arms wrapped around me, her face buried in my shoulder. Each time she took a hard breath out I could feel the force of the air on me.

"You've been watching me, waiting for me to discipline you, to punish you, for your slutty behaviour," I went on, getting wrapped up in it, pressing the first joint of my finger firmly against her g spot. "Slutty Rapunzel, being a bitch and getting caught."

"Ohh... what's my punishment?" she managed to say, her voice muffled. It felt incredible to have her body under my control like this, taking advantage of her arousal. I retreated and slipped a second finger into her wet cunt, increasing the pressure on her g spot, feeling her muscles tense and relax in response.

"I'm going to make you cum," I said, as firmly as I could.

"No," she said, desperate.

"Yes, bitch. You're going to cum on my fingers, whether you like it or not."

"No, no, you can't make me."

I slowly increased the speed I was rubbing her clit, again waiting to find the right pressure and speed that made her moan, the pitch increasing, her fingers hurting me as she clung on.

"Cum, bitch."

"No..."

"You're going to cum. Give in to it."

"I won't."

"Cum, bitch."

My hand was pressing hard into her, my fingers moving back and forth inside her quickly, in time with how I was rubbing her clit. She shook slightly, moaning constantly, her thighs alternating between tightness and relaxation, her breaths coming in tiny gasps between moans.

"There, there, that's it," she said. "Oh fuck, yes."

I stayed exactly where I was, supporting her weight, my hand moving rapidly in her knickers. She was soaking wet and I could feel it all over my hand, and slowly I brought her to the brink, until she was just a wet mess, thinking about nothing except how I was going to make her cum.

"Cum for me," I said, and felt with satisfaction as she did, throwing her head back and moaning long and loud. She took big, gasping breaths, then suddenly released the painful grip she had on me, reaching down and pushing my hand away from between her legs.

"Fuck," she said, breathing hard, leaning back against the wall as I let go of her completely, both of us taking a moment to gather ourselves. Then I kissed her again, softly and slowly, our first real kiss that wasn't about sexual desire.

This time, when we broke apart, she smiled at me and it wasn't smug, or defiant, it was happy. And the rush that went through me wasn't about possession or anger, but excitement and passion. I smiled back and she must have recognised it.

"You're getting soft," she giggled.

"Don't test me," I said, stern again.

"Maybe I want to?" Her eyes flashed at me playfully.

The tender moment was over and the bitch was back.

"I'll give you something to keep you quiet," I teased, kissing her quickly, once, before holding up my hand. It was wet from fingering her, and she watched me, eyes on mine, as I reached out to her. I touched my fingertips to her lips, but she kept her mouth firmly closed, still eyeing me.

"It's going in your mouth one way or another, bitch."

"I don't think so, boss," she said, her tone mocking again. I loved the game, and I smiled at her, brushing my other hand over the curve of her waist, up to her bra, around the edge and onto her shoulder, and then I dug my fingers into her braid. I pulled, gently, stepping backwards as I did, leading her towards me. I kept going back until I reached my desk, where I let go, and let her watch me as I climbed up onto the desk (well away from the cactus), pushing my skirt up around my waist as I did. Spreading my thighs wide, I used the corner of my fingernail to tug at the seam of my tights until I had picked a hole, which I then ripped open wide. I looked at her, but her eyes were on my hands as I pushed my knickers to the side, a little surprised to find how wet they felt. I knew I was turned on, but I hadn't realised quite how much of an effect it'd had on me.

"Knees," I said, briskly.

"What if I don't want to?"

I set my mouth hard. "Get on your knees or I'll make you regret it, bitch."

She hesitated, but studied my expression and then gave in, pushing her jeans down to her ankles first. I took the chance to slide my heels off, dropping them on the floor over the side of the desk, then I gently rubbed my feet over her shoulders as she knelt in between my thighs, looking up at me and pretending she couldn't see my pussy in front of her.

Slowly, sexily, I held out my hand, still wet from her, until she looked at it. Then I pushed it down to my pussy, each of the two fingers I'd had inside her on either side of my clit.

"Lick," I commanded.

She shook her head, and my other hand shot out and grabbed the braids on the back of her head firmly. In response, she looked up at me, not looking away from my face as I pulled her in. Her mouth touched my clit, not opening, and I dug my fingers in more tightly.

Then, in a moment of ecstasy, her pink lips opened and the tip of her tongue touched my clit. I expected hesitancy and a slow start, but she surprised me again by opening her mouth wide, putting her tongue out and slowly, wetly, licking upwards from my cunt, over my clit and my fingers, our wetness mingling on her tongue. She licked again, cleaning my fingers softly, incidentally making plenty of contact with my clit, and I moaned, sensations from my clit filling me.

I moved my hand away and she focused on my clit properly, no longer looking at me but looking straight ahead, the flat of her tongue pushing into me, rubbing over my clit, focusing on what she was doing. As she did, she pushed her braids over her shoulders so they were behind her, and I reached down, letting her pigtails run through my fingers until I reached the ends. Then I gripped the hairbands holding them in place and pulled them off, gently undoing the braids until her hair was simply a wavy blonde mass falling down her back. It felt divine to run my hands through it as she licked my clit, moving from her scalp to the tips, the movement releasing the scent of her shampoo again, which mixed with the smell of our arousal.

She found her rhythm and her eyes flicked back to meet mine, and I felt a rush of desire looking down at her. It was impossibly sexy to have her blue eyes locked on mine, her blonde hair cascading down behind her, as her tongue pleasured my clit. I didn't usually go in for visuals when I was turned on, but this was something else. My hand slid into her hair again and I gently held her up against my clit, moving my hips gently to meet her licks, breathing hard and fast. My orgasm was coming, I could feel it, I'd been so turned on through this whole encounter that I didn't need anything more than her tongue on me and her pretty face looking up at me to get me close.

"Keep going," I said, risking a defiant response from her, but she recognised I was getting there and didn't change her rhythm, my moans rising and falling as the pleasure came and went, until finally I gripped her hair, gripped the desk, dug my heels into her shoulder blades and lost myself in it. Hot waves hit me, rushing through me over and over, forcing a long, low moan out of my mouth, pushing firmly, a little roughly onto her for a few seconds. Then I could relax, let go of her, take a breath, and feel the come down from my orgasm slowly rocking through me.

"Yes," was all I could say, and Rapunzel looked up at me, using those big, wide licks to clean my wetness from my thighs and my clit. I moaned gently at the feeling.

"Not such a bitch now, am I?" she giggled.

"More of a slut," I teased in return.

"I told you, I'm not a slut."

"You just licked your boss's pussy on her desk and made her cum. That's very slutty."

She looked at me and the smile, that annoyingly sexy little smile, returned.

"Oh, I can think of lots of things much more slutty than that."

The way she said it was nonchalant, but few things in my life had instantly turned me on like that.

"Such as?"

She giggled. "Let's see..." Carefully, she leant forward and kissed my clit, then moved down and kissed my pussy, then kissed my inner thigh. "What about..." she went on, kissing my thigh again, then back to my pussy, then the other thigh, "... this?" She poked her tongue out and very gently touched my arsehole with the tip.

"Oh, fuck." A rush hit me like a train.

With a satisfied smile she straightened up again. "But I wouldn't do that, because I'm not a slut," she said, brightly.

I wanted to continue to hold the balance of power, but she was so hot that I couldn't help myself. I reached down between my legs and started rubbing my clit gently, lost for words for a moment.

"Mm, I didn't realise you would like that so much," she said, looking pleased. "Well, how about a little deal?"

"I'm listening," I said, my voice hoarse.

"If I lick you here," she said, slowly, touching my arsehole with the tip of her finger, "then you take me out for dinner sometime."

I nodded quickly. "I'd love to."

She smiled. "And you have to get off my case at work," she added, hastily, keeping her finger in place.

"If you'll do some more work, I will."

We exchanged smiles, then she gave me a look of pure sexiness as she leant down to kiss my thighs again, working her way down until I felt the gentle pressure of her tongue on my arse. I moaned immediately, rubbing my clit faster, lifting up my thighs higher to make things easier for her.

She was very gentle, licking with her flat tongue until I was wet down there, then slowly applying pressure with the tip. The sensation was nowhere near as intense as when she licked my clit, but when she began flicking her tongue over my hole, it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I could feel how wet my pussy was getting from this, but any suggestion of embarrassment as my wetness dripped down was lost in how incredibly good this felt. She had a very talented tongue, and within a few minutes I could feel myself slipping into a familiar pattern of pressure on my clit: the slightly frantic, back-and-forth motion I used when I was getting close to masturbating to orgasm. She looked up at me, tongue out, and kept up the flicking motion until my orgasm hit, not as powerful as the last but still enough to have me grabbing the desk for support and moaning loud.

I lowered my legs and took gulps of air as Rapunzel sat back, taking another look at my wet pussy and arse before smiling.

"It's a date, then?" she asked as I sat up, dreading to think about the cleaning up job I had ahead of me. I understood exactly why people didn't have sex in the office.

"Yes, definitely," I said, feeling slightly unsteady on my feet as I put them down on the carpet.

Rapunzel looked down at her ripped shirt. "It's a good thing I brought my coat today," she giggled, trying to pull it closed over her bust. "Otherwise I'd be in big trouble."

On Tuesday, the first day back after the long weekend, I couldn't stop myself looking out of the office window. Not to monitor what Rapunzel was up to: she wasn't doing much work, I knew that, but I couldn't stop looking at her. And when she noticed me looking, she smiled. A naughty little deviant smile. I couldn't decide between admiring how pretty she looked, and wanting that sexy mouth on my pussy again.

I did have to draw the line at the outfit, though. She was wearing a long sleeve black top which showed plenty of cleavage, tucked into a tight red skirt which barely reached mid-thigh and was clearly not office-appropriate, even with tights underneath. Not that any of the guys minded, judging by how frequently they found excuses to visit her desk. Today her hair was in a big, messy ponytail, and she loved tossing it from one side to the other when someone said something funny to her, her knees locked together to keep herself decent. Oh, how I wanted to have her be indecent with me again.