The Permission Bruno Gave His Boss

It was Friday, almost nine at night, and Bruno had been fighting for three hours with a server module that refused to compile. He had his headphones on, the monitor dimmed, and his back aching from so many hours in the same chair. The doorbell rang twice before he took off one earbud and paid attention.

From the living room he heard his mother’s voice answering with that cheerful ease she always had, no matter the hour. He didn’t get up. He thought it was probably a neighbor or a delivery guy with the wrong address. He went back to the code.

Marisol opened the door without thinking about what she was wearing. She had just come out of the bathroom and put on the new outfit she’d bought the previous Saturday at the downtown shop: a black lace bra that barely held in her big tits and a short purple satin skirt that clung to her all the way down to where her thighs began. Underneath, a thin thong that wedged itself between her ass cheeks every time she walked. She was planning to spend the rest of the night in her room watching her soap opera. She hadn’t expected visitors. And least of all her son’s boss.

“Good evening, Mrs. Marisol… sorry about the hour,” Don Eduardo stammered, his voice an octave lower than usual. “It’s just that Bruno wasn’t answering his cell, and I brought some papers for tomorrow’s project.”

Don Eduardo was fifty-five, had a prominent belly and a graying mustache that twitched when he was nervous. That night it twitched a lot. His eyes fixed first on the neckline, where the black lace showed the upper half of two mature, firm tits, and then, when she turned to close the door, they dropped without trying to hide it toward where the satin tightened over her wide hips. You could make out the crack between her ass cheeks by the way the thong outlined the fabric.

“Come in, come in,” Marisol said, not noticing the look. “I’ll call him. Want some coffee?”

“If it’s no trouble, ma’am.”

She walked toward the kitchen and Don Eduardo followed her, neck red and throat dry. Every step she took made the skirt rise a millimeter, and every millimeter was a torture the man endured with short breaths and his cock swelling against his fly. When she bent down to take a cup from the lower drawer, the satin hugged her so tightly it outlined the thong and showed half an ass cheek, white and round, cut by the black string disappearing into her cunt. Don Eduardo grabbed the edge of the table so he wouldn’t sway. His mouth filled with saliva.

Bruno appeared in the hallway with the flash drive in his hand, ready to fix whatever it was and go back to his screen. He stopped two steps before the living room. Don Eduardo was standing by the little coffee table, cup in hand, but his eyes weren’t on the cup. They were on Bruno’s mother as she poured the hot water bent over the counter, her ass raised and her skirt hiked up to mid-cheek.

What Bruno saw lasted less than three seconds. But it was enough. He saw the boss with his right hand shamelessly inside his trouser pocket, adjusting the bulge pressing thick against the fabric. He saw his tongue running over his lips. He saw the eyes fixed on his mother’s ass crack as if he were memorizing it.

The boss looked up and met his gaze. For a fraction of a second he froze, face red as a lantern, hand still in his pocket. Bruno had two options at that instant. The first was to make a scene: yell at him, kick him out, call his mother so she could see. The second was quieter. More interesting.

“Don Eduardo,” he said with a calm that surprised even him, “you’re here. Sorry I didn’t answer, I was on a call with the server.”

He walked calmly over to where his mother was, kissed her on the cheek, and took the cup from her hands.

“I’ll finish it, ma. Sit down for a bit.”

Marisol smiled, excused herself with a gesture, and said she was going to the bathroom for a minute. She disappeared down the hallway and the silence settled heavy between the two men.

Bruno leaned against the counter, pretending to check the flash drive. Don Eduardo cleared his throat, set the cup down on the little table, and wiped his forehead. Sweat gleamed at his temples. He still had a hard cock and didn’t know where to put his hand.

“Boy… forgive me, huh. I didn’t mean to disrespect you. It’s just that your mom… that woman…” He swallowed audibly. “Fuck, Bruno. I get a hard-on just seeing her walk. You don’t see her every day. That ass, those tits…”

Bruno let the silence stretch for a few seconds. It was the same silence he used when he was chasing a complicated bug and still hadn’t decided whether it was worth pursuing. He lifted his eyes, without reproach.

“Relax, Don Eduardo. Enjoy the view while you can.”

The man blinked. The line didn’t fit any script he’d prepared. He let out a nervous laugh that made his belly shake.

“You’re a good kid, Bruno. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything yet.”

***

Marisol came back down the hallway in the same lingerie, oblivious to the change in temperature in the kitchen. Bruno greeted her naturally, as if nothing had happened.

“Ma, can you pass me my phone charger? I think I left it in the cable drawer, the one on the right.”

She moved to the counter and bent forward to open the drawer. The skirt lifted completely. Her black thong was wedged between her ass cheeks, the fabric barely wetting the cunt area, and her full ass was exposed to the kitchen light. Don Eduardo, who had the right angle, stopped breathing. A low gasp escaped him, which he covered with a cough. Bruno pretended to check his phone, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the pulse jump in his boss’s neck and the cock lift again beneath his pants, pulling the fabric upward.

“This drawer is a disaster, ma. Let me help you.”

Bruno stretched his arm over her, and as he did his hand brushed the edge of the fabric and lifted it another inch. Casual. Like someone straightening a cushion as they pass. Marisol’s left cheek was left completely bare, round and firm, her brown skin shining under the light. Marisol didn’t move, focused on rummaging through the cables. Don Eduardo grabbed his cock over his pants without realizing it, squeezing it once to calm it down.

“I found it!” Bruno exclaimed, pulling out the charger as if nothing had happened.

His mother straightened up with a grateful smile, completely oblivious, the skirt falling just enough to cover her again. Don Eduardo drank the last sip of coffee with a trembling hand and his mouth still full of saliva.

“Well, boys, I’m leaving you,” Marisol said, yawning. “I’m going to my room to watch my soap opera. Bruno, behave yourself, there are guests.”

Bruno stood, kissed her on the cheek, and as he said goodbye he gave one of her lower ass cheeks a light slap. A routine gesture, the kind that for them was old affection. Marisol let out a resigned little laugh, her flesh trembling slightly under the satin.

“Son, seriously. There are people here.”

Bruno glanced sideways at Don Eduardo and winked. His hand lingered a second longer than necessary on the spot he’d hit, pressing lightly into the warm flesh before letting go. Don Eduardo’s eyes went wide, mouth slightly open. Then Bruno stepped away.

Marisol went down the hall, wishing the boss good night without noticing a thing. The bedroom door shut with a soft click.

***

Bruno went back to the sofa, plugged the flash drive into his laptop, and opened the project report. Don Eduardo was still planted in the armchair, legs crossed to hide his swollen cock and breathing in short, broken pulls.

“The bug in the payments module should be patched with the version I uploaded this afternoon,” Bruno said, sliding his finger over the touchpad. “Did you get to see the final report?”

“I saw it, boy, I saw it… good work,” the boss’s voice was hoarse, dull, as if he were answering a different question. “Fuck. With all this stress nobody sleeps worth a damn. And now I come in with my cock hard like a teenager, forgive me for saying so.”

Bruno smiled to one side, not looking at him. The silence stretched another ten seconds. All that could be heard was the fan’s hum and the ticking of the wall clock. Don Eduardo shifted on the sofa, looking for a position that would conceal the obvious. He ran his hand over the bulge to tuck it to one side, unable to help himself. Then, in a low voice, almost a whisper, he let the question out:

“Does your mom have a boyfriend?”

“Why do you ask, Don Eduardo?”

The boss ran his tongue over his dry lips. He stared at a fixed spot on the rug, as if rehearsing the words before letting them out.

“Bruno, listen to me carefully. I don’t want to make a mess of this. I don’t want you to look at me funny tomorrow at the office or for this to become a problem. That’s why I’m asking you straight out.” He drew breath. “Do you give me permission?”

“Permission for what?”

“To get close. Slowly. Not like an animal. Start by putting my hand on her waist while I help her reach something in the kitchen. Hug her from behind and let her feel my cock against her ass. If she pulls away, I stop and leave. But if she laughs, if she stays still like it’s a game, if she pushes her ass back… will you let me keep going? Will you let me fuck her, boy? Will you give me your blessing to fuck your mother the way she deserves?”

Bruno looked at him for a long time. The boss’s eyes shone with something Bruno had never seen in a meeting room: old hunger, held back for years, the kind of heat that only builds up in a man who has spent too long looking at what he can’t touch.

“Permission granted,” he said at last. “But not today. Save it for another day.”

Don Eduardo closed his eyes for a second, as if he’d just received news he’d been waiting on for weeks.

“Deal, boy. Deal. Fuck, you’re a calculating devil. But I like you.”

“Tomorrow we’ll talk at the office.”

***

The boss stood up heavily and headed for the door. Bruno stopped him with a hand on his shoulder before he reached the hallway.

“Wait. Before you go I’m going to give you a little test. Nothing intense. Just so you can see how she reacts.”

“A little test?”

“Go into my mom’s room to say goodbye. Tell her you’re leaving, thank her for the hospitality, and hug her. One of those hugs a family friend gives, but get nice and close. If she lets you, if she stays still or laughs like always, give her a light slap when you say goodbye. Just like I do. If she pulls away or gets annoyed, apologize and leave.”

Don Eduardo stood in the middle of the room, looking at him as if he were the one being tested.

“And if she tells me to fuck off?”

“She won’t. For her, that stuff is affection. Go on, relax. I’ll stay here listening. If anything goes wrong, I’ll come in and fix it.”

The man nodded slowly, sleepwalking. He walked down the hallway with careful steps, his cock still pushing against his fly. Bruno sat on the sofa and turned up the TV just enough to cover the murmur of voices without losing them entirely.

Don Eduardo knocked softly on the half-open door.

“Mrs. Marisol? It’s me. I came to say goodbye.”

From inside came her sweet voice, with the soap opera’s sound low in the background.

“Come in, Don Eduardo. You’re leaving already? What a shame, so early.”

He pushed the door open. Marisol was sitting on the bed, leaned back against the pillows, remote control in hand and lingerie still on. One leg was crossed over the other and her skirt had ridden up so high it showed the black thong fabric pressed against the mound of her cunt. The bedside lamp lit only half of her face, leaving the rest in shadow, and her nipples stood hard beneath the lace. She smiled at him with that same warmth as always.

“Thank you for everything, Mrs. Marisol. For the coffee, for receiving me so late. You’re a sweetheart.”

“It’s nothing, Don Eduardo. Come here, a goodbye hug.”

She stood and hugged him first, wrapping her arms around his neck. Don Eduardo enfolded her in his, felt the heat of her body through the satin, the vanilla-scented perfume, her tits pressing against his chest, soft and warm, with hard nipples jabbing through his shirt. His belly settled against her lower abdomen and his cock, hard as a rock, pressed tight against her thigh. He had to close his eyes to keep from gasping. Marisol didn’t pull away. On the contrary: she rested her cheek for a second on his shoulder and sighed softly, like someone receiving a long-awaited caress. The hug lasted five seconds longer than a normal goodbye hug, with the boss’s cock digging into her bare thigh the whole time. Marisol had to feel it. She didn’t make a single surprised gesture.

As they separated, before turning toward the door, Don Eduardo raised his hand and copied Bruno’s gesture exactly. A light, firm slap on the lower curve exposed by the short skirt. The sound was dry. The satin trembled for an instant and the cheek bounced slightly under his palm. Before letting go, the man couldn’t help himself: he left his hand there for half a second, pressing the warm flesh, feeling its firmness and weight.

Marisol let out a surprised little laugh and put a hand to the spot he’d touched. Her cheeks turned the color of satin. She didn’t say anything about the second squeeze. She didn’t step back. She just laughed.

“Oh, Don Eduardo…”

There was no anger. Only that sweet, almost childlike amusement, as if it were an old friends’ joke, and something lower, something he didn’t miss: her gaze dipped for an instant to his fly and came back up to his eyes, with a new spark.

“Sorry, ma’am… it’s just… good night, huh? Thanks again.”

“Good night, Don Eduardo. Come back whenever you want.”

She said it softly, with a smile that lingered in the shadows. He left quickly. He closed the door carefully.

***

In the living room, Bruno was waiting with his arms crossed and the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Well? How did it go?”

Don Eduardo wiped the sweat with the back of his hand. He was still trembling. He squeezed his cock over his pants without caring that Bruno saw him.

“She laughed, boy. Fuck, she laughed and said I was just like you. She didn’t get mad. Not even a little. She felt my cock against her thigh the whole hug, Bruno. Hard the whole time. And she didn’t move away. She looked at my fly when I gave her the slap. And she told me to come back whenever I want.”

Bruno nodded, turned off the living room light, and opened the front door for him.

“Good. That was what I wanted to see. Now go home calmly, Don Eduardo. Next time it’ll be more than a slap. Next time you’re going to fuck her.”

The boss went out into the street with his legs still weak and his cock leaking inside his underwear. Bruno closed the door, locked it, and stood there for a moment leaning against it, listening to the engine of the car driving away. Then he walked to his room, sat down in front of the monitor, and went back to the code.

The payments module bug could wait until Monday. He had more interesting things to think about.