The Office

For the 12th day in a row, the state was being beaten down by a heat wave. Everyday it had been 95 or higher, and don't forget the stupid humidity making it seem even hotter.

Sitting at my desk at work, I once again let my mind wander to the same daydream I've had for the last two months - me, in my bathing suit on a white sandy beach looking out at the clear blue water, and an icy cold daiquiri in hand, and my guy lounging on the towel next to me, and my mouth waters. Then I feel it, the sweat running down my face, and I'm brought back to my office with the broken A/C and the reminder that I am not on a beach, I don't look good in a bathing suit, the only cold drink I have is water and that's getting warm, and I'm single. Reminding myself that I'm single makes me feel that familiar ache deep within. It's been months since I've had a man touch me.

I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts of that beach and of my non-existent sex life, and wipe away the sweat on my face. I briefly wish I could wipe away the sweat that is forming on other areas of my body. The A/C crapped out on day three of the heat wave, I called and left several messages to maintenance with the building and none have been returned. My boss Damian has been gone on a business trip and luckily hasn't had to deal with the heat, and he's not due back for two more days, when we're finally supposed to dip below 85.

Damian is 37 years old and 6'5" with deep dark brandy colored eyes, thick gorgeous lashes, flawless olive skin, a square-cut jaw. He is normally clean shaven but the handful of times he's come in with some stubble has made me weak in my knees. His hair is midnight black, thick and full, and always looks like he just runs his fingers through it to style it. He's broad-shouldered, athletic and muscular in build. He normally comes to work every morning after having spent two hours in the gym.

He started this consulting business from the ground up all on his own right out of college. I've been his assistant for the last 5 years. For the last 6 months though, I've been considering quitting and looking for work elsewhere. I used to love working for Damian but these last few months he's been miserable and full of pent up anger. Two months ago he had me book him sessions for boxing 4 nights a week after work, and even the extra work out isn't helping keep the anger at bay. He's also been making me stay as late as him and anytime he decides to work on Saturdays, I'm forced to come into work as well - and it's been almost every Saturday for the last 6 months. I can't have a social life or boyfriend if I am living at work.

And I have reason to believe that the reason for his anger and constant need to be at work, has to do with his own relationship; well lack of relationship and sex. His girlfriend Kelli hasn't called daily nagging to talk to him all hours of the day, and he hasn't had me book any weekends away or lunches or dinners for them in just as long, and last Saturday I overheard him have a conversation with one of the guys he plays basketball with. He said something about her being a "lying, cheating whore" that was "traipsing guy after guy into their apartment to blow and fuck". If that's true, I'm not quite sure why she'd cheat on him. He looks like a male model, and up until recently always seemed like a nice guy, he remembered birthdays and anniversaries and holidays the two years they were together, and had even had me find a few jewelry dealers in a 100 miles radius that dealt with special requests. Hell, if I thought I was anywhere near his "type" which over the years seems to be tall, thin, blonde models, and didn't work for him, I'd make a move on him.

It's not that I'm too big or even ugly, I've been told I'm pretty and beautiful by people before. I'm just, not tall or thin or blonde like a model. I'm 26, and had just turned 21 when I got the job with Damien. He was even nice enough to take me out to a work lunch after I was hired to buy me a celebratory meal and drink. I'm 5'5", I have chestnut brown eyes and thick honey colored wavy hair that goes down a couple inches below my shoulders. I'm about a size 14 for clothes, but over the years I've been back and forth between sizes 10-18. I have soft, alabaster skin that is most blemish free except for a few freckles here and there.

I look at the clock and notice is nearly noon, and decide to leave the office for a lunch break and the reprieve of the slight chance of it being cooler outside then in my office. I grab my purse and lock the door and walk down the block to a small cafe. Once there I try order an iced tea and the sandwich and salad combo. I take my time, not wanting to rush back to the office, waiting until the last possible second, and order another iced tea to go.

By 2pm the office is hotter than had been earlier in the day, and it almost felt as though the heat was turned on. By this point, my clothes were nearly drenched in sweat and were sticking to me. I wasn't sure how I was going to make it to 5pm like this. A thought crossed my mind by I pushed the thought away, knowing if I did it and get caught, I could lose my job.

Less than an hour, I wasn't only reconsidering the thought, but was going through it. I walked over to the door and locked it, knowing that no one comes to the office unless Damien is in town and has a meeting scheduled, and then closed the blinds of all the windows. Once back at my desk, I was pulling the zipper down of my maroon and dress. I couldn't believe I was actually removing my clothes at work, but I was desperate for some relief. I draped my dress over the back of the chair next to my desk, leaving myself standing there in only my panties, bra, thigh-high stockings and heels. I quickly pull back my damp hair into a high ponytail to get it off my shoulders. I was already beginning to feel cooler, as I sat back down and got back to work.

Nearing the end of the day, I remember that Damien sent me a recording of some notes that he's taken while on his trip and has asked me to type them up for him and have him ready when he gets back. Since the rest of my work is close to being finished and isn't important, and knowing that writing the notes can take a couple of days, I decide to get started.

I grab my earbuds from my bag and begin typing away, getting lost in his intense, matter-of-fact voice until I am startled by the office door slamming shut. Without thinking I jump up from my seat, forgetting that I'm standing in front of my boss in a steel grey matching lace bra and thong, and black thigh-high stockings and black pumps. I blush and stutter as I try to explain.

"Sir... I... I'm so sorry...," I move my hands to try and cover myself.

"STOP. TALKING." His loud, voice making me feel small. The room seemed to shake.

I feel tears begin to well, and not wanting him to see me crying on top of being practically nude. I step forward to grab my dress but he tells me not to move and I freeze in place, not able to make eye contact or I know I will cry for sure. "Please, Sir. I can explain."

He's silent for a moment and my skin tingles. I look up slightly and see his eyes boring into me.

"You have 90 seconds. Explain. NOW."

It takes a few seconds before I am able to muster up the courage to explain, without bursting into crying.

"Damien, I..."

He cuts me off, making me jump slightly, "Address me as Sir." Seeming like an odd request because I've always called him Damien before, but not wanting to upset him, I do as he says, "And look at me when you speak."

"Yes, Sir." I say quickly, and look back up at him, feeling the heat in my cheeks as they burn red, watching his dark eyes glide over every inch of me. "Sir, I'm sorry. The A/C has been broken for days. It's nearly 90 outside and almost just as hot in here. I wasn't able to concentrate on my work. My clothes were wet and sticking to me, and I was beginning to feel overheated. I knew no one would be in the office, and you weren't supposed to be back for two more days. I only took my dress off a little while ago to try and cool off..."

Just then Damien cuts me off, "Sloane, get dressed. Go home."

"But Sir, there is still almost a whole hour left of the day." Being sent home before 5pm made me nervous. Was I going to be out of a job? "Sir, am I fired?" I asked, almost in a whisper.

"Get dressed and go home. Now. This was very inappropriate and could have been bad for the business if someone else had come into the office. We will discuss this tomorrow."

There was no holding back as the tears fell down my cheeks. Why did I have to take my dress off. "Please, Sir. I need this job," I say as I wipe away the tears, "I'll do anything."

I reach for my dress when he doesn't respond right away. I hear him clear his throat before he asks. "Anything?" I look up at him and see that he's removed his jacket and is unbuttoning his shirt. "On your knees, Sloan."

I look at him confused, "Sir, I don't understand."

"You said you were willing to do anything to keep your job. What I want if so you to quit asking questions and do as you're told. If I have to ask again, you'll be punished." He looks serious, but I still don't understand or believe him. I make the mistake of letting myself laugh a little. I see something change in his face and he walks quickly over to me, he grips my arm a little too tight as he turns me away from him.

"Hey! Damien, this isn't funny. Stop." I say matter-of-factly. "Let me up."

I feel his hand move off of my arm and for a second think he's going to let me up but then his rough hand is against my back, and pushing me against my desk. I feel him press against me and feel that he is enjoying this. It doesn't even dawn on me at the time that he feels larger than I'm used to.

"I told you not to make me ask a third time. I told you to address me as 'Sir'. And then you not only ignore my request but then you laugh at me? I won't stand for that. If you want to continue working here you will do as I say." As he finishes I feel his left hand smack my ass.

"OW!" I yell out. I count another nine spanks in my head, five to each cheek. Each a little harder than the previous, causing me to yelp with each slap. By the time he is done, my ass is sore and I can tell it's bright red as I feel like I'm on fire.

I feel his hand move from my back but I'm too afraid to move. "Now, as I asked before. Turn towards me and get on your knees, or next time that will be worse." The sounds of his voice sends a shiver down my spine.

I slowly stand and turn, and my eyes momentarily lock on his, and they're filled with something. Hunger, maybe. The look in his eyes scares me, yet excites me in a way I don't expect. I lower myself to my knees has his hands go to work undoing his belt and pants before he drops them to the ground. Damien stands in front of me in blue boxer briefs that are barely containing him, before his thumbs slide between his skin and the fabric. He has to tug them down a little harder than what is normally needed as they catch on the bulge.

My eyes widen as I stare at what's in front of me. An 11" cock nearly as thick my wrist. The tip glistening and dripping precum. There is no way that he is going to fit anywhere inside me. My mouth will not open that wide, and any guy I've ever been with has only ever been half his size. I begin to protest, "Please, Damien. I mean, Sir, please. We can't do this. I'll do anything, please, just not this."

He doesn't even respond. Instead, his eyes lock on me as he moves his left hand to my hair, grabbing hold, bringing me closer to him as he wraps his right hand around the thick shaft. He rubs the tip against my lip, some of his salty and bitter precum entering my mouth. I try to pull away but his grip is two strong. "Open and suck. Now." I resist a little more but soon my mouth begins to part, and as it does, the grip he has on me loosens slightly. I realize the only way out of this is to do as he says. I can suck him, make him cum quick, and then I can leave, I think to myself.

I bring my left hand up and wrap my fingers around him, unable to close my hand completely. Sticking my tongue out I flick it across the tip of his cock, tasting him some more. I hear him grunt slightly. I begin to swirl my tongue along the head before parting my lips some more. Slowly wrapping them around the tip, my tongue running along the underside of his cock where the head and shaft meet. I feel Damien twitch and hear him moan, and it makes me tingle as I actually begin to enjoy sucking the head of my boss' cock.

I use my left hand and stroke him slowly as I continue licking and sucking him. "Suck deeper, Sloan." I hear him groan out. I do my best to stretch my lips around him, feeling the ache in my jaw. I take him a little at a time, trying to let myself adjust to each inch that enters my mouth. My head moving back and forth, taking a little more with every few bobs. I continue to suck him, letting my tongue swirling along the underside of the shaft, trying to stretch my jaw to except his monster cock. After I have about 5" inches sliding in and out of me, hoping it's enough, I feel his grip tighten and feel him pull me towards him.

I immediately bring my hands up and grab his hips, trying to stop him from thrusting forward but my strength is no match for his. I begin choking and gagging as he thrusts inch after inch into my throat, tears running down my face as I fight to catch my breath everytime he pulls back slightly before ramming deeper into my throat. I feel his cock begin to twitch and he thrusts forward one more time, holding me tightly against his pelvis. I continue choking and crying, beginning to get lightheaded and dizzy as I'm unable to breathe, when finally I hear him grunt loudly and feel him explode. He pulls back slightly after the first few spurts of cum shoot into my throat so that the rest coat my tongue and fill my mouth.

I count 10 spurts before pulls himself from my aching mouth, and as he does some of his thick white goo dribbles down my chin and onto my chest. I fall backwards onto my ass and wince as I'm reminded of the pain there as well.

"Swallow all of it. Even what's on your chin and tits." He barks out at me. I don't even think twice and nod as I swallow what's in my mouth, and then using my fingers to wipe up what fell before feeding it to myself. I quickly wipe away my tears and know automatically that my makeup has smeared, and I probably look just how I feel. Like a slut.

Afraid to move, and not sure what's next, I notice that his cock has barely softened. It dawns on me that sucking him wasn't enough, and doubt sets in that I'll be leaving here without him entering another hole.

I see Damien move and realize he's pulling his shoes off, before stepping out of his clothes, leaving him standing completely bare in front of me. My eyes work their way over his magnificent and flawless body. Even if I hadn't known his workout regimen before, I'd know now that he took care of his body. And while his face had been left unshaven, he still made an effort to groom himself down below, and I was a little greatful after having my face pressed so tightly against him.

"Stand, and eyes on me please." I hear him say to me. I bring my eyes up to his and notice that the color of his eyes has deepend in his arousal and I realize, at that moment, my own arousal for him.

I quickly stand, not letting my eyes fall from his. I watch as he looks me over, feeling his eyes wash over me. I feel the heat in my cheeks from a mixture of embarrassment, shyness and my arousal that is growing. After I spin slowly for him, so that he can see every inch, he tells me to stop once I'm faced away from him.

His hands swiftly move behind my back and unclasp my bra, and I watch it tumble to the floor underneath me. I feel him move closer, his chest against my back, his cock pressing against my lower back and ass. I feel him towering over me. His hands and arms snake around me and pull me tighter against him before they move around my body. First, feeling my belly and then upwards. His hands only slightly grazing me where my breasts lay against me, brushing his fingers there. I bite my lower lip as, finally, his hands move up and cup my breasts.

I hear him moan, and then his lips are brushing against my ear and I feel his warm breath, "I'd estimate these," he says and squeezes, almost a little too hard, "are about a 42-44DD. Am I right?" His pointer fingers rubbing circles over my rock hard nipples, distracting me. He pinches them tightly and I yelp. "Answer. My. Question." He says as he pinches and twists.

Feeling my pussy ache and drip. Never having felt this much need, or want for someone. Never having been wanting to be dominated before. "Yes." I say, almost in a whisper. "42DD." I say quickly, knowing he'd want to know the size, and not just a simple yes or no.

He loosens his grip and stops twisting my nipples, but still squeezes them, pulling them away from me. Holding onto my breasts only by the nipples between his finger and thumb. Feeling his lips grazing my neck, I lean my head away from him, offering easier access to my flesh.

He goes back and forth from cupping and kneading my breasts and tugging on my nipples outward. Eliciting many moans from me. I feel as though I could orgasm just from this is he doesn't stop soon. His tongue running along my neck bone, making me weak in the knees.

Finally he squeezes my nipples even harder than before, twisting and pulling them further. My back arches but he bites my neck, almost holding me in place against him and I yelp. My body shakes under him as I cum hard.

"Bend slightly, hands on the desk." He tells me, calmly but sternly, not even letting me catch my breath.

"Yes, Sir," I say with a raspy voice, and lean forward and place my hands on my desk, gripping the wood tightly as I feel one of his hands on me. From the corner of my eye, I see that his other his is stroking his cock. His fingers trail down me, through my hair, down my back and over my sore ass. Only this time he is gentle with his touch, almost a caress, I still brace for the worst.

"You know, Sloane, this is something I've been wanting to do since the day I hired you. Those eyes of yours always screaming 'Fuck me!' at me. Your tight clothes, revealing only enough to make my cock strain in my pants at my desk. Those huge tits needing fingers and mouth on them to suck and pinch. At that interview I so badly wanted to bend you over and pound that pussy from behind. Now, while it took a few years, today I finally get to. Even if I chose not to, from that orgasm you just had from nipple stimulation alone, I'd bet you'd beg me to. And, from the glistening I've been seeing between your legs, the juices running down your thick thighs and the smell of a cunt in need, I think you may want it just as bad as me."

In that moment, I know it's true, but am afraid to admit it. He doesn't say anything, but I feel his eyes on me. I sense he's waiting for something. But what. Maybe he wants me to beg, I wonder...

"Yes, Sir." I say.

"Yes, what?" He asks, I can almost sense that he's smiling. Knowing he has me.

"Please fuck me, Sir. Please. Pound me." I beg, hearing the need in my voice, I know I'm not begging because he wants me to. I'm begging because I want to. I push my ass outwards a little further and spread my legs slightly. "Please, Sir. FUCK. ME."

And with that I hear him move behind me, his hands pull roughly on my thong, pain going through my body as the thin fabric is pulled hard against my clit and ass until finally I hear it tear and he tosses onto the floor within my view. His hands gripping my hips and he thrusts hard. I yelp at the pain of his grip and feeling his cock press hard and deep inside of me. "Oh, God." I moan loudly. "Oh fuckkkk..."