What Happened with My Boss at the Office

The company headquarters was enormous, with several floors, separate departments, and that absurd custom of everyone pretending to be impeccably professional until a door closed. That afternoon I went down to the kitchenette at the back to make myself a café con leche, more to clear my head than out of any real craving for caffeine. It had been a long day of emails, meetings, and awkward silences every time she entered a room.

Her name was Nadia, a coordinator in another division, dark-haired, slender, curt when she wanted to be, and dangerously elegant without even trying. She wasn't a flashy or flirtatious woman; that was precisely what made things worse for me. I'd been fantasizing about her in secret for months, imagining that same cold look transformed into something else, and then punishing myself at home with clumsy, repetitive wanks in which I always ended up staring at her face.

I stayed in the little kitchenette, leaning against the sink and taking slow sips. Then I heard a group of female coworkers enter the large break room. I recognized several voices. They laughed, set containers down on the table, and immediately drifted into the kind of conversation men rarely truly hear and that, when they do hear it, sets them on fire from the inside.

They started by talking about dates, vacations, and creams. Then one of them said she'd had laser hair removal the day before and was now completely smooth. Another replied that her partner liked her to leave a narrow strip of hair. There was laughter, details, comparisons, and shameless comments about soft pussies, sensitive skin, and how much sex changed when they felt more confident about their bodies.

I remained motionless, the cup between my hands and my breathing growing shorter and shorter. I could have walked out of the kitchenette right then, coughed, made some noise, announced my presence. I didn't. Shame had nailed me to the floor, but that wasn't all. The truth was dirtier: I didn't want to miss a word.

The more they talked, the hotter my groin burned. I felt my cock harden inside my trousers until it became uncomfortable, thick, obvious. I set the cup on the counter and tried to discreetly adjust myself, cursing myself for being such an idiot, when I heard footsteps approaching the little kitchenette.

Nadia walked in.

She stopped dead when she saw me. I froze too, my hand still near my fly and my face surely as red as a teenager's. From outside, a voice asked whether something was wrong. Nadia didn't take her eyes off me.

—Nothing —she replied calmly.

She waited for the conversation in the break room to continue, then took a step forward. Her perfume reached me, clean and serious, mingling with coffee and air conditioning. She lowered her gaze, saw the bulge I could barely conceal, and raised one eyebrow slightly.

—I didn't know you were such a nosy little thing —she whispered, leaning toward me—. And even less that you liked hiding to listen to other people's conversations.

No sound came out of me. My throat was dry and my cock was so hard it hurt.

—What a shame it wasn't a dirtier conversation —she added, even more quietly—. Though judging by your face, it seems it was enough for you.

Her eyes returned to my crotch. I tried to cover myself better, but it was useless.

—Adjust it, or you're going to hurt yourself —she murmured—. Unless you'd rather I did it for you.

A jolt went through my whole body. I wanted to answer something, anything, but I only opened my mouth like an idiot. Nadia gave a barely perceptible smile, small and cruel.

—You'll be leaving in a little while —she said—. And when the workday is over, come to my office. We need to have a serious talk, you perverted little snoop.

She placed a finger over my lips before I could react, then stepped away and left the kitchenette with the same composure with which she'd entered. I heard laughter again, footsteps, chairs scraping across the floor. I waited a couple of endless minutes before leaving.

The rest of the afternoon was torture. Every time she passed near my desk, she greeted me with impeccable coolness, which only made my stomach clench harder. I couldn't concentrate. I reread the same report three times without understanding a single line. I was afraid I'd truly offended her, afraid of an internal complaint, afraid of being branded a pervert. And beneath all that was such brutal arousal that I could barely breathe deeply.

Late in the day, the office began to empty. Lights going out, elevators chiming, quick goodbyes. I deliberately waited, pretending to finish some tasks. When silence finally took over the floor, I walked to Nadia's office with tense legs and a dry mouth.

The door was ajar. I knocked.

—Come in —she said from inside.

I entered. Nadia was standing beside her desk, without her jacket, her fitted blouse clinging to her, her dark hair falling over one shoulder. I closed the door behind me. The click of the lock sounded far too loud.

—Looks like you're a perverted little snoop —she said, looking me up and down—. And I thought you were a respectable guy.

—I'm sorry —I finally blurted out—. I didn't know what to do. When I realized what they were talking about, I was too embarrassed to leave. And yes... I liked listening to it. I'm not going to lie to you.

She crossed her arms, although there was something playful beneath the hardness of her expression.

—I don't know whether I should report this —she said, approaching slowly—. Maybe I ought to.

—I didn't do anything. I just stood still. It was stupid, I know.

—It turned you on —she cut in—. Say it properly.

I lowered my eyes for a moment.

—Yes.

—And what part excited you most? —she asked—. Imagining our pussies shaved? Wondering what mine looked like? Thinking of me spread-legged while you listened from hiding?

The directness with which she said it struck me in the chest. My cock began hardening again.

—I imagined you —I admitted.

Nadia moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue.

—Were you going to go home and jerk off thinking about me?

—Nadia...

—Answer me.

I swallowed. There was no dignity left to save.

—Yes. I was going to masturbate thinking about you.

She smiled, this time without hiding it.

—That's better. And have you masturbated a lot thinking about me, or was today's going to be the first time?

I drew a deep breath. You're already in too deep. Tell the truth.

—More than once —I said—. Many more times.

—Look how honest the gentleman has become. Do you like me that much?

—Yes.

—And what do you do in those fantasies? —she asked, less than a meter away—. I want to hear it.

I looked into her face and then at her neck. She had a small mole beside her collarbone. I'd always noticed it.

—I imagine you ordering me around —I said hoarsely—. Making me talk. Making me show you my cock. Sometimes I imagine you in your office. Other times in a hotel. You're always the one who decides.

Her pupils widened slightly.

—Interesting. —She sat on the edge of the desk—. Then I'll save you the trouble. Take out your cock. I want to see it.

The sentence left me rooted to the spot.

—We're in the office.

—I know. I also know there's no one left. I checked the floor before calling you in. The outer door is locked, and there are no cameras in here. So don't repeat obvious things and do as I say.

I didn't move. Nadia slowly undid two buttons of her blouse. It didn't fall completely open, only enough to reveal the upper curve of her breasts and the edge of her bra.

—Either you do it —she said—, or I start screaming and tear my clothes off. And then you'll really have a serious problem.

My hands trembled as I opened my belt. I lowered the zipper and pulled my cock through the fly, hard and tense, already throbbing.

Nadia shook her head.

—Not like that. Pull down your trousers and underwear. I want to see it properly.

I obeyed. I slid my clothes down to mid-thigh and stood before her, exposed, hot with shame and arousal. Her gaze traveled slowly over my cock, without the slightest attempt to hide what she was doing. Then she extended a hand and gripped me at the base.

The contact made me exhale sharply. Her hand was cool, firm, assured. She stroked me slowly, one single pass from root to tip, and my cock became completely hard, thick, alive between her fingers.

—Well —she murmured—. You really were desperate.

She gave me a couple of gentle pumps, just to feel how I reacted. The head emerged, shiny. I clenched my teeth to keep from moaning.

—How long has it been since you actually fucked? —she asked.

—Too long.

—I didn't ask for a number. I asked for the truth.

—A long time —I repeated—. Years.

Her hand didn't stop.

—And since then, just jerking off? A lot of it with my face stuck in that head of yours?

—Yes.

—Poor man. —She squeezed a little harder, drawing a moan from me—. So hungry and so obedient.

She took off her shoes with a practical movement, lowered her dark trousers, and then her thong. She did it without theatrics, without feigned shyness, as if stripping naked in front of me were simply a decision she'd made, period. She sat on the edge of the desk again and spread her legs.

My breathing stopped.

Her pussy was almost completely shaved, smooth and clean, with a narrow, perfectly groomed strip of hair above her mound. Her lips glistened with moisture. This wasn't some hazy fantasy: she was there, a step away from me, spread open for me to look at.

—Do you like what you see? —she asked.

—Fuck... yes.

—Come closer.

I pulled my trousers up just enough not to trip and took two steps. She kept masturbating me slowly, watching my face as I came undone. I took her chin in one hand, afraid she might pull away. She didn't. I brought my mouth to hers and kissed her.

It was a dry kiss at first, tentative. Then she opened her mouth, slipped her tongue inside, and returned the kiss with an intensity that erased every doubt. Her hand remained on my cock while mine moved to her neck, her hair, her cheek. The wet sound of our mouths filled the office.

I opened her blouse all the way and moved her bra aside. Her tits were small and firm, with hard nipples that rose even more when I brushed them with my thumbs. Nadia let out a low moan and tugged lightly on my cock, as if rewarding me for touching her properly.

—Suck them —she ordered, her mouth pressed to mine.

I lowered my head and caught one nipple between my lips. I licked it, sucked it, barely bit it. She arched her back and held my hair to keep me there. I moved from one breast to the other, alternating mouth and hands, feeling her breathing quicken and her thigh tense beside my hip.

—That's it —she said through her teeth—. Not so gentle now.

I obeyed. I sucked harder, pinched the free nipple between two fingers, and Nadia let out an open moan that sent blood straight to my cock. I was hard enough to hurt. I wanted to push inside her that instant, but she shoved my shoulder to make me lower myself.

—If you've been dreaming about this for so long, start by eating my pussy properly.

I knelt between her legs. The smell of her arousal hit me immediately, hot and clean, intense. I spread her lips with my thumbs and saw her clitoris emerge, wet and sensitive. I stuck out my tongue and ran it in one long lick from bottom to top. Nadia trembled.

—Fuck... again.

I licked her again, more slowly this time, pushing my tongue between her lips before moving up to her clitoris. I heard her breathing through her mouth. I started eating her pussy for real: broad licks, then more precise ones, sucking her clitoris with my lips, alternating pressure and pauses to feel her opening up more and more.

Her hands went to my head. She wasn't pushing me away; she was guiding me. She pressed me against her whenever I found the right rhythm.

—Yes, there. Don't stop. Eat me properly—you were brave enough when it came to listening.

I slowly slid a finger inside her while continuing to lick her. She was so wet that it went in without resistance. I moved it inside, curling it upward. She spread her legs farther.

—Two.

I inserted a second finger and began fucking her with them while my tongue worked her clitoris. Her pussy clenched around my fingers. She was soaked, hot, increasingly soft and needy.

—That's how I like it —she said, panting—. Don't just put on a show. Get them in properly.

I drove them all the way in and sped up, moving in and out firmly while sucking her clitoris. Nadia began moaning without even trying to keep the volume down. The discarded heels on the floor, the papers off to one side, the solid desk beneath her ass: everything about it was obscenely real, making me even more feral.

I added a third finger and knew she was ready from the way she squeezed my head between her thighs.

—I'm going to come —she warned in a thread of a voice—. Keep going, keep going, don't stop, don't you dare stop.

I didn't stop. I sucked her clitoris hard, keeping my fingers inside and rubbing the spot that made her writhe. Her orgasm hit her all at once. She arched over the desk, closed her legs around my shoulders, and came moaning with her mouth open, shaking while her pussy soaked my fingers and chin even more.

I kept licking her through the contractions, more slowly now, savoring her wetness, until she gave me a slight push.

—Come up —she said, still panting—. I want that cock inside me now.

I straightened up with my face wet and my cock so hard it felt like stone. She grabbed me by the nape, kissed me hungrily, and tasted her own flavor in my mouth. Then she lowered her hand, gripped my shaft, and guided the head to the entrance of her pussy.

—Don't make me wait any longer.

I pushed the tip between her lips and she let out a short moan. She was slippery, hot, tight. I entered slowly for the first few inches, just to feel her, to feel her swallowing me. She dug her nails into my forearms.

—Now all at once —she ordered—. Fuck me.

I gave her one full thrust, all the way to the bottom. My hips struck hers and we both moaned at the same time. I had to grip the edge of the desk to keep from coming instantly. Nadia spread her legs wider and took the next thrust just as deeply.

—Fuck —I muttered.

—Yes, fuck —she repeated—. Like that. Again. Harder.

I began fucking her with a hard, direct rhythm, making use of how wet she was. Every thrust made a wet sound. My cock came almost all the way out and sank back into that hot pussy that seemed to squeeze me more with every stroke. Her tits bounced, her nipples were still hard, and she touched one while gripping my neck or arm with her other hand.

—You spent months imagining me —she panted—. Well, look at me now. Look at me while you fuck me.

I looked at her. Her face was flushed, her lips parted, her expression of control shattered by pleasure. I leaned in and gently bit her neck without stopping my thrusts. She responded by wrapping her legs around my waist to pull me closer to her body.

—Don't slow down —she said in my ear—. I want to feel you deep inside me.

I gripped her hips and increased my force. The desk creaked slightly with every blow. My cock entered her all the way again and again, soaked, and I thought of nothing except continuing. Nadia began rubbing her clitoris with two fingers while I penetrated her.

—That's it, yes —she said—. Give me cock and let me come again. That's it, asshole, that's it.

Hearing her talk to me like that made me more animalistic. I pulled out only to change the angle, lifting one of her legs onto my shoulder. From there I entered her again and she let out a hoarse cry. The angle was even better: I felt her deeper, tighter, and every thrust made visible spasms ripple through her belly.

—There, there, don't change —she said—. You're fucking me senseless.

I continued pounding her at that rhythm, already sweating, breathing through my mouth, feeling my balls slap against her ass with every thrust. She was visibly approaching another orgasm: tense thighs, trembling hand between her legs, moans becoming less and less restrained.

—I'm going, I'm going... don't stop, don't stop, don't stop...

She came with my cock inside her. Her pussy closed around me in hot waves, squeezing me so tightly I almost lost control. I had to pull out for a moment so I wouldn't empty myself right then. Nadia looked at me with a mixture of defiance and hunger.

—What are you doing? —she said, still panting—. I didn't give you permission to stop.

I grabbed her by the waist, turned her around on the desk, and bent her forward. She placed her hands among folders and cables, spread her legs without being asked, and turned her face just enough to look at me over her shoulder.

—Then don't stop —I said.

I caressed her pussy with the tip, soaking myself even more, and shoved into her again in one thrust. Nadia let out a deep moan and pushed her ass backward to take me. From that position I could fuck her harder, rougher, gripping her hip with one hand and her hair with the other.

The sound changed: wet slaps, broken breathing, the base of my cock striking her buttocks. She arched her back and began saying obscenities in a voice I'd never heard from her in a meeting.

—Yes, like that. Fuck me as if you're going to empty yourself completely. —Another thrust—. Fuck. —Another—. That's what you wanted, right? My pussy. Then take it.

I reached around her and began rubbing her clitoris while continuing to penetrate her. Nadia lost every last trace of composure. Her voice broke, her thighs tensed, and her pussy began throbbing around my cock again.

—I can't take any more —she said—. If you keep doing that, I'll come again.

—Come.

—Make me come.

I fucked her even faster, without technique now, driven only by hunger, thrusting all the way in and rubbing her clitoris in firm circles. Nadia came again with a long, filthy moan, shaking against the desk while I held her so she wouldn't completely fall apart.

Her third orgasm dragged me along behind her. I felt my climax rise heavily from my belly and knew I couldn't hold anything back.

—I'm going to come —I warned, my voice breaking.

—Do it where I tell you —she replied, still trembling—. Pull it out.

I left her pussy in time, my cock throbbing. Nadia turned halfway upright, spread her legs farther, and grabbed me with her hand. She stroked my cock a couple of times, squeezing just enough to wring it out, and aimed me at her mound and lower belly.

I came with a growl, shooting thick jets over her pussy, smooth mound, and lower abdomen. The ejaculation came out abundantly and messily, splattering her hand as well. Nadia didn't look away. She kept stroking me until the last convulsion left my knees weak.

For a few seconds, the only sound was our breathing. The office smelled unmistakably of sex: sweat, hot skin, wet pussy, and fresh cum. Nadia looked down, saw the white of my ejaculation shining on her skin, and smiled with satisfaction.

—Definitely better than a wank —she said.

I let out a nervous, exhausted laugh and leaned in to kiss her. This time the kiss was slow, wet, more intimate after all the violence of the fuck. She let me, then gently pushed me away to breathe.

I took tissues from the top drawer of her desk and began cleaning her carefully. I ran one between her thighs, another over her belly, another over her hand. Nadia watched me in silence, still naked from the waist down, her hair somewhat mussed, her nipples still hard.

—I never imagined you were so obedient —she murmured.

—I never imagined you for real —I replied—. This surpasses anything I ever thought of.

She got down from the desk and dressed without hurrying. I did the same, still dazed. As I fastened my belt, I watched her straighten her blouse, her expression firm as she recovered the facade of the impeccable woman who dominated the corridors during the day.

When we were finished, Nadia approached, grabbed me by the tie, and kissed me again, briefly but possessively.

—Listen to me carefully —she said—. This stays here. At work, we remain what we are in front of everyone else. No stupid looks, no clumsy messages, no behaving like a teenager who was just given his first fuck.

—Understood.

—And one more thing —she added with half a smile—. This was only the first time. Next time I might make you talk even more before I let you touch me.

Another jolt shot through my groin, absurd after the way I'd just finished.

—Then there will be a next time.

—If I want one, yes.

We gathered the displaced papers, straightened the chair, opened the window slightly to air the room, and erased every visible trace of what had happened. Nadia left the office first as if nothing had happened. I waited a few minutes, trying to recover a normal breath and a believable expression.

When I went down to the street, night had already settled in and the cool air struck my face. I walked without hurrying to the bar on the corner, my body still hot and my head full of images impossible to erase.

Nadia was at a table in the back, a glass in front of her and her phone in her hand, completely dressed, completely serene, as if she hadn't made me eat her pussy and empty myself over her half an hour earlier.

She looked up, held my gaze, and pointed to the empty chair across from her.

—Sit down —she said—. I want you to tell me exactly how many times you've masturbated thinking about me.

And the moment she smiled that way, I knew the fantasy wasn't over: it had only just begun.