After My Lover, I Wanted to Try My Boss Too

I finished getting dressed sitting on the edge of the bed. That same bed that, minutes earlier, had borne witness to the most shameless encounter of my life. While I buttoned up my blouse, I realized what I had just done, and the certainty hit me in the stomach. I still had Adrián’s semen running down the inside of my thigh. I wiped it off with a corner of the sheet without taking my eyes off him, because deep down I liked seeing how much of me he had emptied out inside.

Adrián got up unhurriedly. Instead of looking for his clothes, he went straight into the shower, and then I understood: he was married and couldn’t go back home smelling like another woman. He probably smelled like me, because I had marked him all over. Of cock, of saliva, of wet cunt. I had cum on his dick so many times that the last time, when he bent me over face-down and rammed it all the way in, I no longer knew whether I was screaming from pleasure or from rage at not having tried him sooner. I stayed still, listening to the water, turning the same question over and over in my head. What did I do? Why did I do it?

I felt strange. I wouldn’t know how to explain it any other way. Part of me carried the guilt of having given myself to a man who wasn’t my husband. But the other part, the one that seemed newly awakened, the one that made me feel like a real woman, had no regrets at all. For the first time I didn’t feel like only a wife: I felt like an object of desire, someone capable of awakening in any man the need to possess me. I looked at my hand and my fingers were still sticky from grabbing him while he came in my mouth the first time that night. I brought them to my lips without thinking and licked off what was left. It was salty, thick, and it made my thighs clench on pure reflex.

Adrián came out of the bathroom naked, drying his hair with a towel. I saw his cock hanging between his legs, still thick, still capable of slipping inside me one more time if I asked him to. I looked at the bedside clock: 4:20 in the morning. Nobody was rushing me. I had told everyone I was spending the weekend at my mother’s house, so I had all the time in the world.

He finished dressing and came over. He took my hand, pulled me up, and kissed me while holding the back of my neck, while with his other hand he squeezed me over the skirt. I felt his palm open against my ass, shape it, sink his fingers into the flesh as if he still hadn’t had enough of me.

“Shall we go, Renata?” he murmured against my lips.

“Yes, let’s go.”

We went down the stairs to the garage hand in hand, like two love-struck teenagers. He opened the car door for me, but before that he gave me a slap on the ass that echoed off the cement walls. It was strange, and yet none of it bothered me. Quite the opposite. My skin burned under the skirt and I wanted to go back upstairs to the bed and ride him all over again.

“I adore you,” he said, once we were on our way.

“And I adore you. So? When are we doing it again?”

The words came out on their own, without my thinking them through.

“You’re insatiable,” he laughed.

“Does that bother you?”

“Not at all. I love that you’re this horny.”

“Well, then you know. Just tell me whether you’re going to be the one keeping me like this, or I’ll find someone else,” I teased.

“That’s just for me,” he replied, squeezing my thigh. His hand slid up under the skirt until he found me without panties — he had tucked them into his jacket pocket — and he shoved two fingers straight into my cunt, still loose, still dripping with him. I arched against the seat without being able to stop myself. “This cunt is mine, Renata. All mine. When I say so.”

“Yes, boss… it’s yours,” I gasped, biting my lip while he opened me with his fingers to the knuckle and pulled them back out gleaming.

He brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean without stopping driving. I closed my legs, trapping the wetness between my thighs, and stayed silent for the rest of the ride, my heart pounding all the way down to my clit.

The trip to my mother’s place felt ridiculously short. I said goodbye with a long kiss and told him I’d see him Monday. When I got out of the car I felt his hand squeeze me one last time, this time fully between my legs, a final reminder of who I belonged to that night. I walked to the door with my heart beating like a drum, took off my heels so I wouldn’t wake anyone, and went up to my old bedroom. I collapsed onto the bed and, as if someone had flipped a switch, fell into a deep sleep.

***

Sunlight was coming in through the window when I finally managed to focus on the clock: 11:15. I had fallen asleep dressed, face down, with my skirt bunched up to my waist. I sat up slowly and went to the bathroom. My whole body was paying the price. My nipples were irritated from how much I had bitten them, my cunt was burning inside, and my ass was hot from the slaps in the middle of the night. I turned on the shower and let the hot water pour over me from head to toe.

I closed my eyes under the stream. God, what a feeling. My body hurt in a new way, one I didn’t know, and to my surprise, I liked it. The sex had been so intense that my skin burned in the most unexpected places. I slipped my hand between my legs and stayed like that for a while, fingers parting my lips, feeling how the hot water cleaned away the semen I still had inside. When I looked down, I saw a white thread running down my thigh toward the drain. I rubbed it with my thumb, almost tenderly, and without realizing it I started masturbating under the stream, thinking about Adrián’s cock, about how he had shoved it into me against the wall, against the bed, in my mouth. I came with two fingers inside me, stifling the moan against the tile. I washed myself slowly afterward, remembering every detail from the night before, and by the time I got out I had already half made up my mind without yet putting it into words.

I wrapped myself in a towel and went downstairs to the kitchen in zombie mode. I looked for my mother, but all I found was a note on the table:

“I went to your grandmother’s house, she relapsed. She’s okay, but I’m going to stay and take care of her, maybe I won’t be back until Monday. I didn’t want to wake you. If anything, call me on my cell.”

I sat at the breakfast counter with an apple in my hand and started really thinking. Leave my husband? Keep going as if nothing had happened? Confess everything and see the look on his face? Each option seemed like a different abyss.

How hard everything was. I didn’t know whether to give myself completely to this new version of me or go back to being the homemaker I had always been and bury the episode forever. But what really unsettled me was something else, something no amount of reasoning could silence: I wanted to do it again. I didn’t want Adrián to love me. I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted more cocks, more hands, more tongues biting my nipples until I screamed. And as I bit into the apple, a thought crossed my mind like lightning. It was fucking amazing with another man… but are they all the same? Do they all fuck that good? Do they all cum with that face?

The answer came to me on its own, like a faint voice whispering in my ear: find out. With whom? The answer was so obvious it almost made me laugh. My boss.

He was the perfect candidate to keep testing. I remembered how he looked at me in every meeting, how his eyes would drift whenever I bent over his desk. I remembered that time when, getting out of his car in front of the restaurant, I accidentally gave him a full view of my underwear. He hadn’t looked at me the same since. I got hard just imagining him undoing his belt behind the desk, pulling out his cock, and ordering me to take it in my mouth. I had only one day ahead of me, that Sunday, to gather my courage and plan everything.

***

I spent Saturday resting like a bear in winter. I did nothing but sleep and eat, and masturbate twice thinking about my boss’s hands. Sunday, on the other hand, I woke up with a plan in my head. I loaded my suitcase into the car and drove to my own house. My husband was still on a “work trip,” so I had the place to myself.

I emptied the closet onto the bed. I have clothes for every kind of occasion, and that afternoon I went through them piece by piece, choosing with the coldness of someone setting a trap. I started with the underwear, because that was what really mattered.

I chose a pink lace set with wide edges. No thong: I wanted the line of the garment to show under the fabric, a discreet but impossible-to-ignore suggestion. The bra matched, with tiny rhinestones on the straps. I tried it on in front of the mirror and stayed there looking at myself for a while. My nipples showed through the lace, the panties made two half-moons of tight flesh in back and, in front, the shadow of the trimmed hair was visible. Any man who saw me like that would lose control, and I knew it. On top, a fitted white blouse, one of those that lets you guess what’s underneath, with the idea of unbuttoning a couple too many buttons. Light gray dress pants, tailored but tight, in a soft fabric that clung to every curve and outlined my cunt in a way that was impossible not to stare at. Black platform heels. And a wide belt that, even though the pants didn’t need it, cinched my waist in a way I loved.

My goal was clear, and for the first time in years I felt I owned something. I wanted to prove to myself that I could make a man want me on the day and at the hour I chose. I wanted to know whether they were all like Adrián, or whether the other night had just been luck. I wanted a new dick inside me. Just like that, no embellishment.

What was most disturbing, what made my pulse race while I folded the clothes, was this: my husband would be back Monday morning straight to the office, and in the afternoon we’d see each other at home. The mere idea of welcoming him fresh from another man’s arms, with my cunt still dripping someone else’s semen, with the mark of another man’s hands on my tits, gave me a delicious vertigo. That night I slipped three fingers into myself in bed thinking about my boss fucking me on top of his desk, and it took me a long time to fall asleep after that.

***

Monday I got up early. I showered carefully, paying special attention to every detail, leaving my skin softer than ever. I ran the razor between my legs until my cunt was perfectly trimmed, with just a narrow strip of hair over the pubis. I got out of the shower and dressed slowly in front of the mirror, watching how the pink set showed on every curve. I tied my hair into a tight ponytail, hung a long chain that fell over my cleavage, and put on my glasses. The woman looking back at me seemed like someone else: a secretary with ulterior motives written into every gesture.

The drive to the office felt endless. My nerves were dancing in my stomach: the risk of running into Adrián, the decision to seduce my boss, the idea of receiving my husband in the afternoon. By the time I arrived, my heart was pounding like a locomotive and my panties were already wet.

I went to my desk and sat down. Not even five minutes had passed when he appeared, punctual as every morning. He came over to say hello, and then everything started flowing on its own. I had come without a coat on purpose, with three buttons of my blouse open, because I knew exactly what the morning cold did to my body. When I got up to kiss him good morning, my nipples were hard under the fabric and the edge of the bra was visible. His eyes noticed immediately, and they also went straight to the valley between my breasts.

“Very good morning, Renata,” he said, drawing out the first word.

“Good morning, boss.”

I kissed him on the cheek, pressing myself against his body more than necessary. I brushed one breast against his arm on purpose, and I felt his jaw tense.

“You look lovely today.”

“Today only?” I replied, pretending to be offended.

“Well, as lovely as always,” he corrected himself, clearing his throat. “What do we have pending for today?”

“Nothing important. The meeting with the client was moved to Thursday at noon.”

He started walking toward his office and I followed. I made sure to walk behind him so he couldn’t see how much I was looking at his ass, and so he could imagine the nipples he had just caught a glimpse of.

“Shall I make you a coffee? Ask for something to eat for breakfast?”

“For now just the coffee. And put me through to the ones in Querétaro.”

“Of course, boss.”

I waited until he sat down and could see me straight on before I left. I walked to the door swinging my hips more than usual, letting the line of my underwear be guessed under the gray pants. I felt his gaze nailed to my back, to my ass, until I crossed the threshold. I went for the coffee and came back. I approached his side and, bending from the waist, set the cup on his desk. My blouse fell open and, from his angle, he had a perfect view of my bra, of the beginning of my nipples pressing against the lace. He leaned back in his chair to be at just the right height and let out the air slowly. I saw the bulge grow under his pants, just for a second, before he crossed his leg to hide it.

“I’m taking you out to breakfast, Renata. Coming?”

“Sure. What are you in the mood for, boss?”

“What I’m in the mood for, I don’t think they serve in any restaurant,” he said, looking me in the eyes.

“And why not?”

“Because maybe you’ll get mad if I tell you what it is.”

“Haven’t you heard that if you don’t speak, God can’t hear you?” I said, leaning a little farther forward, letting my blouse open all the way. His eyes went straight to my tits without the slightest pretense.

He stayed silent for a second, sizing me up, as if he wanted to confirm he hadn’t misunderstood anything. I dropped my hand, pretending to adjust my chain, and left it, as if by accident, resting on his thigh. I felt the hard cock beneath, touched it for a second before pulling away with a smile.

“Then let’s go have breakfast, and on the way I’ll tell you what I’m in the mood for,” he murmured, getting up from the chair faster than I expected, tugging his jacket in front to hide the erection.

“Let’s go, boss. I’m ready for anything.”

“Then let’s not waste time.”

We left the office together. The old Renata was completely dead, I thought as he held the door for me and his hand brushed, no longer in any “as if by accident” way, the lower part of my back and slid down to squeeze one cheek of my ass before letting go. In her place, another woman was being born, one who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it. And what I wanted, that morning, was walking beside me toward the elevator with a hard cock under his pants, having no idea that breakfast was the last thing on my mind.