My Older Boss Dragged Me to the Bathroom That Night

The company dinner was one of those events you marked on your calendar with resignation. I had been with the company for only four months and had dodged the first one, which had come around when I barely knew my coworkers’ names. But Bruno had convinced me to attend this one with the usual argument: free food, and management was paying for the first round.

What he hadn’t told me was that Lorena would be there too.

I saw her arrive from the other end of the restaurant. Bruno nudged me, and he didn’t need to point anything out. My boss moved between the tables with a smile I had never seen at the office, greeting the coworkers she passed along the way. She was wearing dark jeans and a black button-up sweater that looked nothing like the loose blouses she wore during the week. Her brown hair was always the same length, just below her jaw, and she wore dark-framed glasses that gave her the air of someone who didn’t accept vague answers.

“The ogre’s at the party,” Bruno murmured.

“You told me she wouldn’t come.”

“I told you she didn’t go to the last one. I didn’t promise anything about this one.”

I closed my eyes for a second and resigned myself to the night.

Lorena reached our section and put her hands on her hips in the stance she used when she planted herself at our table to check our work.

“Well, look who’s here!” she exclaimed when she saw me. “My favorite employee.”

I stood up to greet her. In her ankle boots, she came exactly up to my height. I kissed her on both cheeks and noticed the strong perfume she always wore at the office. Up close, her makeup was carefully done, and she had a broad smile that almost threw me off, because I hadn’t seen her look like that once in four months.

“Is that chair free?” she asked, looking at the one beside me.

“Yes.”

“Then I’m taking it.”

She dragged the chair across the floor with a screech that reached every corner of the restaurant. Bruno looked at me from across the table, silent laughter on his face.

Dinner moved along in that early-evening atmosphere when everyone was still minding their manners. Lorena talked with the accountant, the HR guy, and a couple of coworkers from another department. She asked me about the cost analysis I had to deliver on Wednesday, then told me she wanted it Monday. It wasn’t a suggestion.

What did happen was subtler. At one point, Lorena folded her arms beneath her sweater, and the fabric tightened around her breasts. I remembered something Bruno had told me with a laugh weeks earlier: that our boss wasn’t so bad, that she wore loose clothes so she wouldn’t attract attention, that if you saw her another way...

I glanced at her. She was a big woman, yes. Wide hips, large breasts, strong legs. Fifty-one, according to what she herself had told me in the interview. But she wasn’t fat. She was simply big. And suddenly, with the sweater stretching over those tits she kept hidden from Monday through Friday, I got hard under the table before I could stop it.

“Are you looking at something?” she asked without turning all the way around.

“No. Thinking.”

“Then think about the analysis for Monday.”

I laughed despite myself. It took her a second, but she laughed too.

***

After the restaurant, the group moved on to the bars downtown. There were about twenty of us, and the night was cold, with a heavy sky and not a single star. By the time we reached the second place, several coworkers were already missing. Bruno got me a spot at the bar, and we set about doing what we had come to do: forgetting about work for a few hours.

It worked well until two in the morning.

I went to order my third drink, and Lorena appeared beside me as if I had summoned her. She was drunk—not obnoxiously so, but in that way people get when they lose their filter and start saying what they really think.

“Are you getting something?” she asked me.

“A mixed drink. Do you want something?”

“Of course. Why else would I be here?”

I ordered for both of us. The bar was packed, and the space between the counter and the crowd was minimal. Lorena turned sideways to make room, and someone lightly shoved her from behind. Her side bumped into mine. Her curves, which I had previously only imagined beneath the loose clothes she wore at the office, were now pressed against my arm with a very real presence. Her left breast flattened against my elbow, soft and heavy, and a jolt ran from my stomach straight to my cock.

I put my hand on her waist almost instinctively, to make room, to keep her from being crushed against the wooden bar. Beneath her sweater, I felt the soft flesh of her hips and the belt of her jeans digging into her skin.

She didn’t move away. On the contrary, she pressed a little closer against me, and now it was her ass brushing my thigh—a big, firm ass that pushed against me deliberately beneath the excuse of the crowd.

We stayed like that while the bartender prepared the drinks. Lorena stared ahead with relaxed shoulders and a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable. My hand remained on her waist. Hers sought mine, intertwined our fingers for a second, then released them—but before letting go, she dragged my hand downward to the high curve of her ass and left it there. A tiny gesture. No one around us could see it. I understood perfectly what it meant.

“Do you like working with me?” she said close to my ear. Her voice was different. Lower. Without its usual edge. Her breath smelled of gin.

“Yes.”

“I thought so. And I like the way you look at my tits when you think I don’t notice.”

My mouth went dry. We drank. She finished her glass before I did, and when she set it on the bar, she looked straight at me for the first time all night. Her eyes dropped briefly to my jeans, and she smiled when she saw the bulge I’d been carrying for half an hour.

“We’ll have another one later. I’ll find you.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an order, as always, but the tone was completely different.

I went outside for some air and found Bruno at the door, smoking with another coworker.

“I think my boss is hitting on me,” I told him.

He stared at me for a second, then burst out laughing so hard he started coughing.

“Of course she is. She’s been doing it all night.” He tossed his cigarette aside. “Good luck.”

***

I went back into the bar, and Lorena found me before I could find her. She grabbed me by the arm without saying a word and pulled me toward the back of the place. Between the music and the crowd, I didn’t have time to ask where we were going. By the time the women’s bathroom door opened in front of me, it was too late to think.

She locked the door.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me all night,” she said, bracing her hands on either side of me against the wall.

“Lorena, I didn’t...”

“That touch on my waist. It wasn’t an accident. And neither is this.” She lowered one hand, grabbed my cock through my pants, and squeezed. “You’ve been showing it for a while.”

She was right, and we both knew it. I pushed my hips against her hand without thinking. She chuckled under her breath and squeezed harder.

She began unbuttoning her sweater with her other hand. I didn’t stop her. By the time the third button came undone, then the fourth, I understood that I wasn’t going to. Her breasts showed through the black bra with a presence that had nothing to do with the loose blouses she wore at the office. They were large and high, and the bra was doing all it could. She finished opening the sweater and yanked the cups down. Her tits fell heavily and full, with dark, already-hard nipples pointing upward.

“Suck them,” she said, grabbing me by the nape and pushing my face against her chest.

I opened my mouth over one of her nipples, and she let out a short moan that bounced off the bathroom tiles. I nipped it carefully, ran my tongue around it, and sucked the whole thing into my mouth. I grabbed her other tit and squeezed it, sinking my fingers into the white flesh. I switched nipples. It was wet and salty, and Lorena pressed my head against her as if she didn’t want to let me breathe.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said with the same clarity she used when giving me deadlines. “Here. Now. I know you want it too.”

I didn’t contradict her. I unbuttoned her jeans. She helped me, impatiently pulling them down to her knees. She was wearing large black panties that covered half her hips. I slipped my hand underneath and found her soaked. Her pussy was swollen, her lips thick, and her pubic hair trimmed short. I thrust two fingers inside her, and a growl escaped from the bottom of her throat.

“Fuck,” she said, squeezing her breasts with both hands. “Fuck me already.”

She put one leg up on the toilet and turned her back to me, bracing her hands against the wall and pushing her ass backward. Her ass was big and compact, very different from what I had imagined beneath her office pants. I pulled her panties down to her thighs and opened my pants. My cock came out so hard it struck my own stomach. It took me less time than I’d like to admit to get behind her.

I grabbed her hips and penetrated her in one thrust. She was so wet that I slid all the way in without resistance, and she let out a scream that was muffled when she bit down on her forearm. Her pussy was tight and hot around me, and her big butt bounced against my thighs every time I thrust.

“That’s it, that’s it, harder,” she panted, pressing her cheek against the tiles. “Break me, you bastard.”

I thrust faster. The sounds she made were muffled by the bar’s music filtering through the door, but the wet slaps of my pelvis against her ass were obscene, impossible to mistake for anything else. I grabbed her hair with one hand and reached around with the other to find her clit between her folds. I found it hard and rubbed it in circles while I kept driving into her.

“I’m going to come, I’m going to come,” she moaned through clenched teeth. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop...”

She came in less than five minutes, her pussy pulsing in spasms around my cock, a series of guttural sounds escaping from her chest. I kept fucking her until her legs gave out. When I pulled out, a thick strand of her juices dripped down my cock and ran along her thigh.

Afterward, she bent over the toilet and vomited up the entire dinner.

I waited outside without saying anything, my cock still hard and barely contained by my pants.

***

Bruno had already left by the time I returned to the group. Lorena appeared ten minutes later, her face pale and her steps uncertain. A coworker put a hand on her shoulder and said something quietly to her. Lorena nodded, her eyes somewhat unfocused.

I was the one who walked her home.

We walked in silence through empty streets, her clinging to my arm and indicating the turns with a movement of her head. I didn’t open my mouth. There was too much to process, and the alcohol wasn’t helping me sort it out.

The building was old, on a street downtown. Fourth floor. Lorena put the key in the lock, and the apartment opened with the smell of stale air. Furniture from another era, picture frames on the walls, a small kitchen with eighties-style tiles.

“This isn’t your home,” I said.

“It belonged to my parents.” She went to the kitchen, drank a glass of water, and left it in the sink. “I come here when I need to be alone.”

She disappeared down the hall. I heard her footsteps, the creak of a door, and then nothing.

I sat in the kitchen for a minute before getting up.

I found her in the bedroom. She had taken off her sweater and jeans. She was wearing only the black panties and bra, standing beside the bed and looking at me with a calm I hadn’t expected after everything that had happened.

“What?” she asked before I could say anything.

I approached without answering. I kissed her on the mouth for the first time that night and thrust my tongue deep inside. She tasted of mouthwash and whatever alcohol remained. She grabbed me by the neck and returned the kiss with the same urgency with which she had dragged me into the bathroom hours earlier.

I tore open her bra and threw it onto the floor. Now I could see her tits completely, in the light. Big and firm, with very dark, broad nipples still glistening with saliva from the bathroom. I knelt in front of her and buried my face between her breasts. I licked from her sternum to her right nipple. I bit it. She let out a long sound unlike anything I had ever heard from her at the office.

“Wait,” she said, pushing me away. “Not here. Come on.”

She led me to the kitchen without another word. She switched on the yellow ceiling light and leaned against the table. She pulled down her panties herself and let them fall to the floor. She climbed onto the table, reclined, and spread her legs.

“Eat me first,” she ordered. “You didn’t eat me in the bathroom, and you owe me.”

I knelt between her thighs. Her pussy opened into pink, glistening flesh, with thick lips and a swollen clit peeking out between them. I leaned in and ran my tongue from bottom to top in one long lick. She tasted of herself and my mixed semen. She didn’t care, or she liked it. She grabbed my head with both hands and pressed me hard against her pussy.

“There, there, don’t move from there,” she panted.

I sucked her clit with my lips, worked it with my tongue, then pushed two fingers inside her and curled them, searching for her inner spot. She moaned in short, sharp cries that carried through the empty house. Her tits bounced with every breath. The little eighties kitchen with its yellow tiles, and my boss naked on the table where her parents had eaten dinner for decades, legs spread and my face buried in her pussy.

She came with both hands gripping my hair, arched back, her legs closing around my head.

She was still trembling when I put her facedown on the table. I grabbed her hips, opened my pants, and pushed my cock into her from behind, all the way in, without asking. Her big, soft ass flattened against my pelvis. The old table creaked with every thrust. Her cheek was pressed against the Formica, and she said filthy things I didn’t fully understand, though the general meaning was clear.

“Yes, yes, like that, like that, give me all of it, you bastard,” she repeated. “Fuck me like you’re twenty, fuck, harder.”

When I was close, I lifted her off the table and carried her to the bedroom without pulling out. I threw her onto the bed on her back and climbed on top of her. I kissed her while penetrating her again. I bit her neck. I bit her left breast harder than I intended and left a round mark from my teeth beside her nipple. She screamed and came for the second time, her nails digging into my back.

I held out until I couldn’t anymore. I pulled out suddenly, knelt on her chest, and jerked off over her face for the final two strokes. My cum landed on her cheek, her lips, the corner of her mouth, and one of her nipples. She laughed with her eyes closed without opening her mouth, without swallowing any of it, letting it all remain there.

“Idiot,” she said, still laughing. “That’s supposed to go inside.”

She came a third time with my fingers in her pussy shortly afterward, while watching me lick the cum that had remained on her nipple. Then she fell asleep on top of the comforter, arms spread, her glasses crooked on the pillow, with dried traces still shining on her chin.

I put on my pants, covered her properly, and left without making a sound.

***

Monday was strange from the very beginning. Lorena arrived at ten and crossed the office with an energy different from her usual kind. She greeted two people she normally ignored and came to my desk. She stopped.

“Good morning, Marcos.”

“Good morning.”

She continued toward her office. An hour later, she called me.

I went in with the analysis folder under my arm.

“Close the door,” she said without looking up from her computer.

I did. I turned around. Lorena had set aside the keyboard and was looking at me from the other side of the desk, her arms crossed. She was wearing a dark blouse that would have gone unnoticed on any other day. Not that day.

“I loved what happened Saturday,” she said without preamble.

“So did I.”

“Good. Then we’ll do it again.” She stood and approached slowly. She put one knee between mine, forcing my legs apart. “I know you want to.”

I didn’t deny it. My cock had already become hard the moment I closed the door.

She knelt with a calm that threw me off more than anything else she had done that weekend. She found my belt, lowered my pants and underwear in a single movement, and released what she found. My cock sprang out in front of her face, and she took it in her hand, weighed it, and ran her tongue over her lips without looking away.

“I woke up with a mark from your teeth on my breast,” she said, looking up, her hand moving slowly up and down. “And with my face covered in semen. I don’t remember giving you permission for that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you aren’t.” She smiled in a way I had never seen before, without irony, without authority. “Next time, you’ll give it to me in my mouth. That’s where it belongs.”

She lowered her head.

She sucked me slowly at first, with a concentration and skill that should no longer have surprised me but did. She took the entire head into her mouth and worked it with her tongue, circling the crown and pressing underneath with the tip. Then she lowered herself, swallowing me halfway, and came back up with her lips tight, making a wet sound that could be heard throughout the office.

“You’re quiet, aren’t you?” she murmured, releasing my cock for a second, a strand of saliva hanging from her lip. “You talked more at home.”

She swallowed me again. This time all the way, arching her neck so I could go in completely. I felt myself strike the roof of her mouth and then slide down her throat. She held me there for a few seconds, her nose pressed against my stomach, before coming back up, coughing softly and her eyes watering. She took my hand and placed it on the back of her own head, pressing it there so I would hold her.

“Fuck my mouth,” she said hoarsely. “Don’t treat me like I’m made of porcelain.”

I grabbed her head and began moving myself. Her lips squeezed in exactly the right place, and her tongue never stopped, wrapping around me every time I entered. With her other hand, she had slipped two fingers into her pussy beneath her work skirt, bringing herself off without stopping her blowjob. When I felt I was close, I said so quietly.

Lorena didn’t pull her mouth away. On the contrary, she squeezed harder and slipped her tongue just beneath the head, insisting.

I gave her everything, and she swallowed it without taking her eyes off me. She swallowed it all, sucked up what remained, and licked my cock from top to bottom one last time to clean it. She stood, took the bottle of water from her desk, and drank a long swallow. Then she smoothed her clothes as if she had just finished a budget meeting.

“Get back to work.”

I picked up the folder from the floor. I headed toward the door.

“Marcos.”

I turned around.

“Before you leave this afternoon, stop by and give me your number. I may need some overtime.”

That’s how it all began. And that’s how it went every Monday afterward, too.