The Trip With My Boss That Changed Everything Between Us

My boss, Renata, always looked at me more than she looked at just any employee. I noticed it in meetings, when I was presenting numbers and she, instead of following the screen, kept following me. I never said anything. Neither did she. But something had been there from the very first day.

At the end of March, she proposed a challenge to boost quarterly sales. The prize for the winners was a long weekend in a magical little town up north in the state, with all expenses paid. I was always competitive, and the idea of three days without the office, without bills, without difficult clients, made me fight harder than ever. I closed two big accounts in the last week of the month, and that was enough to put me among the winners.

When Renata announced the date of the trip, my coworkers, one by one, said they preferred to swap the prize for the cash bonus. They had kids, mortgages, adult problems. I was almost about to do the same. But I thought about my empty apartment, about my workweek dragging along like a sack of cement, and I understood that I needed to get out of the city more than I needed the money.

—I’m keeping the trip —I told Renata in her office.

She smiled. A strange smile, as if she had been waiting for hours for me to say exactly that.

—If you want, you can invite someone —she said—. Or if you prefer, I can go with you. So we don’t waste the other cabin.

I didn’t have anyone to invite. My last relationship had been a disaster and all my friends were married, with plans made three months in advance. I told her I was fine with her coming along. That it would do her good to recharge after the quarter close, too.

—Perfect —she answered, and went back to her laptop, but she didn’t stop smiling.

***

On Saturday morning she came by my building at exactly nine. She was wearing dark glasses, a white short-sleeved T-shirt, and jeans that fit her as if they’d been made to measure. I came down with my small backpack and a dress for dinner. Barely enough for three days.

—You travel light —she commented when she saw my bag—. I like that.

The drive was four hours of highway. We talked about everything. About my mother, who lives alone in another city. About her older brother, who moved to Madrid five years ago. About past partners, hers and mine. About books neither of us had finished. About dreams put on hold. When we were an hour from our destination, she lowered the music and looked at me a second too long before turning her eyes back to the road.

—You know? I’ve been wanting to tell you something for months —she said—. I’ve liked you since you joined the company. If I’d known talking to you was this easy, I would’ve invited you for coffee a long time ago.

I didn’t know what to say. I felt heat in my neck, in my ears, and a warm wetness between my thighs that made me press them together against the seat. I muttered something about enjoying the conversation too, about how she was more fun than she seemed in meetings. Renata laughed and didn’t bring up the subject again for the rest of the drive.

The lodging consisted of wooden cabins scattered among the pines, each with its own entrance and small porch. We were assigned two next to each other, separated by about twenty meters of path. I took my things up, had a long hot shower, and lay down on the bed with the bathrobe open and only my underwear underneath. The smell of pine drifted through the window. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard soft knocks on the door.

I tightened my robe and opened it.

—Want to go down to the village for dinner? —Renata asked.

She was wearing a short black dress and red lipstick. A different woman. Not the boss from the office, not the one from the road. This was someone who had gotten dressed up for me.

—Give me twenty minutes —I said—. Or… would you rather we order room service? Yours or mine.

I said it without thinking. When I heard my own words, I wanted to swallow them. She didn’t answer right away. She leaned against the doorframe and looked me up and down, as if evaluating me.

—Get dressed and come to my cabin in twenty minutes —she said at last—. I want to take you out to eat. Then we’ll see.

I closed the door and leaned against it for a few seconds before I moved. What are you doing. What are you doing, what are you doing, what are you doing.

I put on a light cream dress, flat sandals, and a sweater over it in case it got cold at night. Subtle makeup, a little mascara, gloss on my lips. I pulled my hair into a low ponytail and chose small earrings. Under the dress I put on the black lace set I only wore for occasions that never came.

***

The restaurant was ten minutes away on foot. A terrace with candles and small tables, just enough to keep the conversation from slipping away. We ordered a bottle of red wine and shared a meat dish. We talked about nonsense at first: the decor, the menu, the couple at the next table.

—That dress looks good on you —Renata said when we got to the second glass—. I mean it. You look very good.

I blushed and lowered my gaze to the tablecloth.

—You do too, Renata. You’re a very beautiful woman. Honestly, I’m really enjoying tonight.

She leaned a little over the table.

—Earlier you said you were going to let yourself go on this trip. Do you remember?

—Yes.

—I want you to know something. Your work this quarter was exceptional. You earned this prize fair and square. You earned the right to enjoy every minute without thinking about what you’re going to do tomorrow. Are you sure you’re going to let go? Without holding back?

I didn’t think about it. The answer came out on its own.

—Of course.

She nodded and signaled the waiter for the check. The wine, the low voice she’d used with me, the way her knees had found mine under the table without either of us mentioning it. I got up to go to the restroom with my legs a little shaky. When I pulled down my underwear, I found the lace soaked through, a sticky strand stretching between the fabric and my swollen pussy when I peeled it away. I hadn’t had something like that happen in years, so fast, so without touching myself. I ran two fingers through my slit to check, and I was dripping, slick all the way to my perineum. I sucked my fingers in front of the bathroom mirror, my face flushed, and pulled the lace back into place against me to calm the sensation. I took a deep breath. My nipples were so hard under my dress that I had to cross my sweater over my chest before I went back out.

When I came out of the bathroom, before returning to the table, I looked at her from a distance. Her legs were crossed, the neckline of her dress outlining big breasts that she hid in the office under long jackets. She was gorgeous. She was gorgeous and she was waiting for me.

***

On the way back to the hotel, she suggested we take another street, a longer one, to see the town. We walked in silence for a block. Then, without warning, she took my hand and pulled me into a narrow alley between two low buildings. A single streetlamp at the far end. She pushed me gently against the wall, placed one hand beside my head, and kissed me.

It was a long kiss. Deep. Hot. With tongue and with all the weight of months of hidden glances. Her tongue slid into my mouth, searched for mine, tangled with it, sucked it. I bit her lower lip and heard her let out a low gasp. Her knee slipped between my thighs and pressed right there, over the dress, over the soaked lace, and I rubbed against it shamelessly, like a bitch in heat, thrusting my pelvis forward in search of friction. Her free hand moved down my side, squeezed my ass, and then lifted the hem of my dress until the warm palm touched the bare skin of my thigh. When she pulled away, her lips were smeared with my gloss and she was breathing hard.

—I can tell —she murmured— that you really are going to let yourself go.

—I’m soaked, Renata —I told her in her ear, not recognizing my own voice—. Touch me.

She slid her hand under the dress and ran two fingers over the lace. She closed her eyes when she felt how wet I was.

—My God —she whispered—. You’re dripping.

I grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her myself, biting her mouth, pushing my tongue in deep. She pulled the lace aside and ran her fingers directly through my wet slit, up and down, not putting them in yet, teasing my swollen clit until my knees went weak.

—To the cabin —she panted—. Before I fuck you right here.

***

We got to her cabin without letting go of each other’s hand on the way. The moment she closed the door, she came at me. She kissed my mouth, my neck, under my ear, while her hands searched for my breasts over the fabric of my dress. I couldn’t think. I just wanted her not to stop, to keep going, to go deeper.

—You like it, don’t you? —she whispered against my ear—. I’ve been imagining you like this for months. Months imagining how I was going to wet your cunt with my tongue.

—Yes —I said—. I like it. Fuck me, Renata. Fuck me now.

She slid the straps of my dress down and the fabric fell to my waist. She unclasped my bra in one motion, like someone who had done it many times before. When her mouth found my nipple, I arched against her. She sucked hard, bit it, tugged it with her teeth until I let out a moan, then moved to the other one and did the same, leaving both nipples red, hard, shining with saliva. Her hand moved at the same time, slipped under the elastic of my panties, and her fingers returned to my pussy, this time with no fabric in the way.

—So wet, my love —she said, with a smile that was more pride than tenderness—. You’re all for me.

She slid one finger in. Then two. I spread my legs wider and clung to her shoulders so I wouldn’t fall. She curved them inside, found that exact spot no man had found for me in years, and when she pressed it the first time, I almost came standing up.

—Want me to stop, bitch? —she asked suddenly, with a new voice, a voice I didn’t know.

I should have been annoyed. I wasn’t. On the contrary. I felt the heat multiply between my legs, a new pulse in my clit, an animal need for her to insult me more. I heard myself beg her.

—No. Don’t stop. Please. I’m your bitch. Don’t stop.

—That’s it —she murmured, sucking my neck—. Say it again.

—I’m your bitch, Renata. Fuck me however you want.

She led me backward to the bed, never stopping kissing me, with her fingers still inside me, setting my pace. She stripped off the rest of my dress and my soaked underwear, which she threw to the floor with a wet sound. She laid me on my back at the edge of the mattress and knelt on the rug. She opened my legs with both hands, very slowly, like someone opening a gift they’d been waiting months for. She stayed there looking at me for a full second. I was there, naked, with my swollen, shining pussy thirty centimeters from her face, and I wasn’t ashamed. I was proud.

—Look at you —she said—. Your cunt’s a fountain.

She ran her tongue all the way through me, from entrance to clit, in one slow lick that tore a long moan from me. I had to bite the back of my hand so I wouldn’t scream and let the neighboring cabins hear. She stopped on my clit and started sucking it, making circles with the tip of her tongue, while two fingers went back into me and pumped slowly, then faster, then deeper. I felt her tongue inside me, as far as it could reach, moving as if she were fucking me with it, then rising back to my clit and sucking until the world shrank to that one point.

—Renata, I’m coming —I gasped—. I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m…

—Come in my mouth, bitch. All of it.

I came in a long spasm, my thighs pressed against her face, both hands in her hair, shaking over the mattress. She didn’t stop. She kept licking me while I trembled, sucking my hypersensitive clit, swallowing what dripped down her chin, until a second orgasm crashed into me on top of the first and I let out a scream I would have been embarrassed to hear in any other context.

When she finally lifted her face, her mouth and chin were shining with me. She licked her lips slowly, looking me in the eye.

—You taste amazing —she said—. I already figured you would.

I sat up as best I could, still breathing hard, and grabbed the collar of her dress. I kissed her and tasted myself in her mouth, on her tongue, at the corners of her lips. I tugged her dress upward until she was naked over me. I unclasped her bra and her breasts fell into my face, big, firm, more than I had imagined under her work jackets. When I finally got them in my hands and took one nipple into my mouth, I sucked them, bit them, licked them, as if I’d been hungry for something for years and was only now discovering it. I bit one hard and she let out a growl that made me clench my thighs.

—Take off my panties —I asked her, or ordered her, I’m not sure anymore—. I want to taste you.

She stripped completely and climbed onto the bed astride my face without asking, holding onto the headboard. She lowered her pussy over me and I stuck out my tongue to meet it. She was as wet as I was. I licked her whole slit from bottom to top, sucked her big pink clit, slid my tongue inside her and felt her moving against my mouth, sitting on me, fucking my face without guilt. I dug my fingers into her ass to pull her closer and she started moving in circles, braced against the headboard, moaning my name for the first time all night.

—Oh, like that, like that, don’t stop, don’t stop for God’s sake —she panted—. Suck it, my love, suck my clit.

I slid two fingers into her while I licked her, and she came all over my face with a tremor that shook her whole body. I felt the warm liquid run down my chin and neck. I didn’t care. I licked what I could reach and watched her collapse beside me, flushed, her hair stuck to her forehead.

We did it in a thousand ways that night. On top, underneath, astride, in front of the dresser mirror, in the armchair in the corner, again in the bed when our legs could no longer answer us. She put me on all fours at the edge of the mattress and fucked me with three fingers while she slapped my ass with the other hand, until it was red and burning. She sat in the armchair with her legs open and made me kneel between them and eat her pussy until she came again, gripping my hair. In front of the dresser mirror she hugged me from behind and slid her fingers into me while forcing me to look at myself, at the slutty look on my face when I was about to come, and she wouldn’t let me close my eyes until I exploded against her hand.

There were soft moments, almost tender, with long caresses down my back, with slow kisses on the nape of my neck. There were brutal moments, with deep fingers, with her open hand crossing my ass cheek, with words neither of us would have used in any other context: slut, bitch, my whore, fuck me, give me everything, deeper, like that, like that, like that. I lost count of how many times I came. At some point I stopped trying to count.

At some point in the early morning, with the blue light of dawn coming in through the window, she held me from behind and kissed the nape of my neck. One hand rested on my chest, the other between my legs, motionless, as if marking territory.

—Mine —she said softly.

—Yours —I answered, and fell asleep pressed against her, her fingers still resting on my swollen, satisfied pussy.

There are two more nights left in this magical town. When I finish telling you how they went, you won’t be able to look at me the same way at the office again. But that first night, that night in Renata’s cabin, was the night I became her woman, her lover, and her whore. And we both enjoyed it.