Snowed In with His Boss

'I'm not saying any more. Any way, are you planning to rent a couple of rooms so we can clean up?'

'That's the general idea - I'll feel better in a suit.'

When they got to the hotel Rita explained why they hadn't arrived the night before, but that they wanted rooms to shower and change. The receptionist said that they'd taken the money from their credit cards, but she could let them have one room for a couple of hours free of extra charge. Rita looked at John with raised eyebrows, then told the girl that they would take it, and she gave them the key. John went and checked the car boot lock and found that it had defrosted, so he got their suitcases out, and they went up to the room. When they entered they found that it was a standard room with a large double bed and a small bathroom. Rita opened her suitcase and took out her sponge bag. She turned to face him.

'I'm going to shower. After last night I don't think there's any point in being coy, and there's not a lot of room in that bathroom.'

With that, she pulled her sweater up over her head, then unhooked her bra and took it off. She sat on the bed to remove her shoes and socks, then stood up, undid the waistband of her jeans and pushed them down, taking her knickers with them. She stood and faced him for a moment, then picked up her bag and went into the bathroom, leaving the door open. John watched her go, her firm, round buttocks moving enticingly below her long, smooth back, and he took in briefly the long shapely legs. It was all so quick and unexpected that, as last night, he hadn't really taken in what she looked like. He had just registered a well-toned body with full but firm breasts and a flat belly descending to a dark, hairy triangle.

'What next?' he asked himself. He had no doubt that she was offering her body to him, but he guessed that it was just for a thank you fuck after his efforts the previous night, and he wasn't interested in sex on that basis. Still, why not play along for a bit, and see what she would do. He stripped off his own clothes, took his bag and followed her into the bathroom. There was a big walk in shower with no curtain, and he saw her back view again, and as he looked her hand was pushing the flannel deep in between her arse cheeks. He passed the shower and went to the toilet bowl and had a long, noisy piss, then he went to the wash basin and started to shave. The shower stopped and in the mirror he could see Rita drying herself. After a bit she hung up the towel, giving him another full frontal view, before she walked past him into the bedroom. He finished his shave, and then he went and showered. After he had dried off he walked into the bedroom, still naked. She was dressed in pants and bra and was busy combing her damp hair. She looked at his naked body as he took clean clothes from his bag and dressed himself, then she stood up and pulled on a pair of tights, then a blouse and skirt before finally putting on her shoes and jacket. No words had passed between them through all these proceedings, until they were both dressed, packed, and ready to go.

'Right, let's go and get some lunch. The hotel restaurant looks quite decent, and we can leave our bags here.'

They went and had a lightish meal, and the conversation between them was strictly limited to confirming how they would run the presentation, though she irritated John by the way she kept querying whether he really knew the script and coming the heavy boss on him. When they had finished they returned to the room. John felt in need of a piss, so he walked into the bathroom and performed, deliberately not closing the door, really just to make the point that, if she wanted to behave like a man, he wasn't going to bother to show her the courtesy that he would normally extend to a woman. After his piss, he began to clean his teeth, and, not really to his surprise, she walked in, hitched up her skirt, pushed down her tights and knickers and sat down, generating a long rush of liquid. Then she took a piece of toilet paper and dabbed her crutch before standing and dressing herself, showing him a flash of pubic hair again, which somehow was sexier than the full nudity. Then they took their bags, checked out and went to the car.

Rita drove to the client, and they were welcomed. They were told that each bidder would be allowed one hour to make its presentation and take questions, and that they would be the last to go at five o'clock. While the other two made their plays, Rita and John were entertained by one of Roger's staff, who showed them around the facility and gave them coffee before returning them to the conference room for the main event. The presentation went absolutely smoothly. They had timed themselves so that there was a quarter hour available for questions. In fact, as they were last, the questioning went on a good deal longer, and, by the time Rita made their winding up address it was well over an hour and a half. Roger was beaming at them at the end.

'Well done. If your product is as good as your presentation, it could well be what we are looking for. I'll be in touch soon, and I'll be asking you to come again and confirm any questions before we make our final choice.'

They left the plant to drive home. Rite was beaming with delight.

'I reckon it's ours. They wouldn't have bothered to keep us over if they hadn't thought we were pretty good. And thanks for your effort, we made a pretty good cross talk act!'

'Oh well, it will certainly make all the work worthwhile if we get the business.'

He was thinking that it wasn't the work he minded, it was the constant nagging and bossiness and interference that got to him. He had been looking for another job, and thought that, if they won this contract, it would look good on his CV. They drove in silence for some time. Suddenly, Rita spoke.

'Do you mind if I ask you a very personal question?'

'Feel free'

'Did you find my body unpleasant?'

What the hell sort of question was that? He supposed that she couldn't understand why he hadn't take advantage of the sexual opportunities that he had had. She probably had never been rejected before, and couldn't handle it. For sure in other circumstances he would have been only too keen. He hadn't had a serious sexual partner since his wife died, and it was nearly a year since he had had any sort of sex, as masturbation didn't do anything for him. As it was, he thought that, although it had been an opportunity to have sex with a very attractive body, it would have left a bit of a nasty taste that she had let him do it just as a thank you, and would have made working together difficult. So he kept the answer short.

'No.'

He waited for a response, but none came, and his curiosity got the better of him.

'What about the next question?'

'I'm not going to ask it.'

'Why not.'

'I don't like being humiliated, so I shan't take the risk.'

'The reply wouldn't be humiliating.'

'Thank you.'

Suddenly a thought crossed his mind, and he thought he should make one point clear.

'Just in case you've got the wrong idea, I'm not queer.'

'I never for one moment thought that you were. That would have been easier to understand. Oh, by the way, I found a card with the name of the owner of the cabin, and I'll get in touch with him and square things up for our use of the place.'

He realised that she had got some reassurance from his answer, and didn't want to go any further, so he was quiet for the rest of the trip till she dropped him off at his home.

During the next two weeks neither of them mentioned anything about their trip outside the work content. John thought he noticed a subtle change in her behaviour, confirmed when one of his staff told him with amazement that she had enquired after his daughter, who had been ill.

'I didn't realise that that bitch even knew that I'd got a daughter, never mind that she had been ill. She said that I could take time off to take her to hospital if necessary. Bloody worrying, she must be going to sack me or something.'

'Maybe she's got a streak of humanity that we hadn't noticed.'

'Yeah, and there are fairies at the bottom of my garden!'

Then on the second Thursday she called him into her office.

'John, they are going to announce the contract winner, and they've asked if we'd all go to their place on Saturday morning. Apparently Roger has to fly off to the States on Sunday for a fortnight, and he wants to do the announcement himself before he goes, so I've accepted. I assume you'll be available?'

John was tempted to say that he'd got better things to do on a Saturday, but he wanted to be there to hear the result, so he didn't argue. She said that they'd go overnight again.

'This time the weather forecast is good, but I don't want to risk anything going wrong, so I'll pick you up in my car as before. This time we should make it in time for dinner, and I won't fall into any fishponds, so you'll not need to do your rather original paramedic impression.'

Rita drove the Range Rover briskly and they were soon well on the way. To John's surprise, she turned off the motorway at a junction earlier than he would have expected, and he quickly realised that she was taking the same route as she had before when the motorway was blocked, and, after a few miles she stopped the car outside the cabin where they had passed the night. He suppressed the urge to ask what they were here for, and he followed her when she got out of the house and walked to the front door. She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door, and they went in.

'I contacted the owner and paid him for our last visit, and asked him if we could call again. I thought it might be nice to have our dinner here, and, as he is a professional chef, I've asked him to prepare a meal for us - which you can probably smell cooking.'

John looked round the room. She had switched on the light, and he heard the sound of a small generator start automatically. The big wood-burning stove was alight, and the place was pleasantly warm. On the stove was a big casserole, simmering gently. The table was ready laid, adorned by cutlery and glasses and with a bottle of wine waiting to be opened..

'You seem to have got everything planned.'

'You know I like to plan, and I want to make up for the slight shambles I drove you into last time.'

They took off their coats, and Rita told him to open the bottle and pour the wine. He did so, and handed one to her, which she took and sipped while she busied herself finishing preparations for the meal. John was rather bemused by what was going on. Why should she want to bring him here again? Unless...no, surely she wasn't expecting to have sex with him, considering the way he had rejected her when he had the opportunity before. He noticed that the bed was made up, but, then, it had been before, so that couldn't be significant. Whatever, he'd just play it by ear, and see what happened.

While he was cogitating, she had been serving up the meal, which was a magnificent cassoulet, full of savoury sausage, bacon and beans, a real French country dish. This was followed by a very English dessert, steamed treacle pudding with custard, and by the time they had worked their way through that little lot, washed down with a Merlot wine, they had had more than enough. Rita made coffee, and produced a bottle of Cognac, and they sat side by side on the sofa enjoying an excellent finale. It occurred to John that neither of them was in a fit state to drive, which led him to the obvious conclusion that she expected to stay the night here, but he was, apparently, wrong.

'John, I've arranged for us to be driven to the hotel. The cab should be here in about half an hour - unless...'

'Unless what?'

'Last time we were here you undressed me and took me to bed. I told you once that I wouldn't risk being humiliated, but I'm going to now. Will you do the same again?'

John thought for a moment. The chance to get his own back for all the times she had trampled over him was very tempting. On the other hand, a quick memory of her naked body came back to him, and that seemed a much more attractive option. Not only that, but their shared experience had made him realise that her overbearing manner hid quite an insecure person, and he realised that he was really quite fond of her. Then another thought crossed his mind.

'What about the cab?'

'I could cancel it.'

'But the phone won't work here.'

'Yes, it will. Apparently the transmitter was faulty last time we were here.'

John paused.

'Then you'd better cancel it, hadn't you.'

Rita took out her phone and dialled the taxi firm and cancelled the cab. They sat side by side for some time. John was feeling a little confused. He was so used to being bossed around by this woman and he now suspected that she was really nervous about what to do next, so he decided that he would initiate some action. He stood up in front of her and held out his hands, and, after a brief pause, she took hold of them, and he drew her up to her feet and, holding her at arms length, he looked her up and down. He saw a good looking woman with dark hair drawn back from her face, a chunky sweater just hinting at the generous curves that he knew lay underneath and smart jeans covering her long legs and feet clad in flat heeled shoes.

He took hold of the waistband of her sweater and slowly peeled it upwards and, as she raised her arms, over her head and then off her arms, then he turned it back the right way round, folded it neatly, and placed it on a chair. She was wearing a white bra again, but not the all-covering type he had seen before. This was a lacy confection that only just covered her nipples, which were clearly visible through the mesh, and the upper slopes of her breasts flowed up to her long neck. He crouched down and took off her shoes, then stood and undid the buckle of her belt. The button at the waistband was tight, but he undid it and then pushed the tag on her zip slowly downwards, over her flat belly and over the bulge of her pubic mound. Taking hold of the waistband he pushed downwards until it was round her ankles. She lifted one leg and balanced herself with one hand on his shoulder as he pulled off one leg, then repeated the act for the other, revealing a pair of patterned, hold up, black stockings. As he looked up his face was level with the top of her thighs, and he was looking directly at a pair of lacy white French knickers, through which the dark triangle of pubic hair was clearly visible. The contrast between the white undies and the black stockings was startling, and, as he looked at the pale flesh exposed between them, he felt his penis start to harden.

He stood up and moved to undo the front fastening bra, but she stopped him. She undid his belt and zip and pushed his jeans down to his knees, swiftly followed by his underpants. He was totally startled by this action, and he stood with his suddenly exposed penis hanging at a slightly aroused angle. She moved away from him and walked over to the bed, and lay down. She lifted her knees and spread them wide. Her hand went to the inside of the loose knicker leg and pulled it to one side. Her vulva was fully visible, the outer lips with their covering of dark hair parted slightly so that the pink inner lips were just visible.

'I want your cock inside me, now, no foreplay, just fuck me quickly.'

He paused for a moment. This just wasn't his way of sex. He liked slow foreplay, gentle caressing, and a slow build up to a final frenzy. On the other hand, the sight of her lying there, legs sprawled and the pink vagina lips peeping out past the crotch of her knickers was arousing, and his penis had grown to its full splendour. He looked at her face, and saw an expression that he didn't understand. He would have thought that it was fear, but if she was afraid, why was she inviting him in this lewd way. The hell with it, if this is what she wanted, he would give it to her, with interest.

He kicked off his shoes and ripped off his jeans and pants. He knelt on the bed between her legs, and leaned forward so that his penis was close to her pussy lips, and he guided it with his hand till it just touched her, and he heard her snatch her breath as he made contact. He felt the warmth of her against the tip of his foreskin, then he did as she had asked and thrust deep into her. He had expected to feel a wet, slippery channel embracing him, but it wasn't like that. The skin was dry and unyielding, and, as he thrust into her, his glans felt as though it was being dragged across fine sandpaper. The situation was made worse because he hadn't been aroused long enough to leak some pre cum, which would have been a lubricant. That she was equally uncomfortable was apparent from the look of misery on her face and the quickly suppressed cry of pain.

He realised that she had not been in any way aroused, and had not released any of her juices to ease his way into her vagina. He thought for a moment of pulling out and forgetting the whole thing. In any case, his erection had half collapsed, and only the friction of her dry passage was keeping him inside. Then a thought occurred to him - could he get her to release some of her magic fluid to improve matters? Perhaps a little stimulation might help?

He moistened a finger with his saliva and slid his hand down between their bellies and pushed her knicker leg further open, then probed gently till he found the top of her crack. He pushed slowly down till he felt the skin of the hood over her clitoris. He moved his finger lightly from side to side, and he felt a little bulge starting to form. He probed under the hood till his finger touched the sensitive spot where her clit was engorging with her blood. As he moved, she made the tiniest of sounds as she took a breath, but this time it wasn't the distressed sound she had made before. Now her clit had enlarged, he could hold it between finger and thumb, and he began squeezing and releasing, as though he was masturbating a tiny penis. Suddenly he felt a small movement within her vagina as her muscles contracted a little, and his penis started to swell again.

He could feel now that he was no longer being held in a dry grip, and he moved his penis cautiously to withdraw a little. Now it moved easily, so he carefully pulled back till he could feel his glans about to pull out, then pushed back in again, slowly, slowly, and now began to feel the soft slippery texture that told of a woman ready for sex. Her face no longer carried a look of discomfort, and there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. He raised his eyebrows in a questioning mode, and she nodded and whispered 'Yesss'. He withdrew his hand from between her legs, and, supporting his weight on his arms, he began to move, slowly at first. She was looking down, watching his firm penis disappearing into and reappearing from her now swollen and wet pussy lips, and heard the slippery slurping sound of flesh entering flesh.

His need was becoming more urgent, and he began moving quicker, thrusting harder, his pubis grounding hard against hers with every stroke, his cock reaching deep into her channel. He was getting close now, but he really didn't know what was happening to her, except that she clearly wasn't in any distress. He thought briefly about how he could bring her to orgasm with him, but quickly decided that he could worry about that next time - this would be for him. He felt the pressure in his balls, and pulled back till he was nearly outside, then gave one long slow stroke till his glans was hitting her cervix. The hot fluid began its rush along his shaft and the first jet blasted into her, and his cock jerked with the pressure. Again and again and again came the ejaculation, then a couple more less fiercely as he emptied his juice into her, the millions of semen all trying to swim up through her cervix and into her womb. At last it was over, and, after the sudden flood of hot fluid, she felt his cock soften a little.