The Office Party Turned Me into His Secretary

I had been working at those downtown offices for a month. They had put me at reception, which wasn’t exactly what I was looking for at thirty-eight, but the pay was enough and the atmosphere was comfortable. I accepted the job thinking something better would turn up later, that patience always paid off in the end. Sometimes it pays off in ways you never even imagine.

That Friday, my coworkers organized the monthly get-together they held as a matter of habit. They invited me, of course, and I was happy to say yes. I already got along well with almost everyone after such a short time, so attending seemed like a good decision. There would be eight men and eight women at a bar reserved just for us.

The evening began quietly, with work conversations and the first beers. But around midnight, after a few too many drinks, everyone began to loosen up. The laughter grew louder, the chairs moved closer together, and that invisible boundary that existed at the office during the week suddenly vanished.

Esteban had been shamelessly flirting with me for a while. He was another coworker’s husband, a friendly woman who was chatting at the other end of the table, oblivious to everything. Under the tablecloth, he had placed his hand on my knee. He slowly moved it upward, squeezing my thigh, and I didn’t pull it away. His fingers reached the edge of my panties and slipped beneath the fabric, searching for my pussy. When he found what he was looking for, I heard him exhale through his nose. I was already soaking wet.

It had been a long time since anyone had touched me like that.

He turned me on faster than I would have liked to admit. He slipped two fingers inside me and began moving them, searching for my G-spot from above, while his thumb pressed against my clitoris in circles. I let him do it and, very discreetly, slid my hand down to his crotch. I stroked him through his trousers and felt him harden beneath my fingers, thick and outlined against the fabric as if he were asking me to let him out.

“You’re already wet,” he whispered in my ear, pretending he was commenting on something ordinary. “It’s going to show on your dress, you slut.”

“That’s what you do to me when you touch me there,” I replied without looking at him, pressing my thigh against his hand so he wouldn’t take it away.

“You’re so fucking hot. I’ll put it in you right now if you let me.”

“What about you? Are you turned on too?” I asked, already far too aroused, squeezing his cock through his trousers. “Let’s go to the bathroom. I want to suck you off.”

Feeling it outlined against the fabric, hard and bigger than I expected, lit me up. All at once, I was overcome by an urge I hadn’t felt in years—the urgent, slightly selfish desire that comes with age, when you no longer have the patience for beating around the bush.

We slipped away to the bathroom with the naturalness of people who didn’t want to be noticed. Once inside, there was no long preamble. I locked the door, turned around, and he was already undoing my belt while kissing my mouth with his tongue, roughly, his tongue thrusting deep inside me. I unzipped him, pulled out his cock, and spent a second looking at it in my hand: hard, swollen, the tip already glistening with fluid.

I knelt on the tiles and sucked him slowly, starting by licking him from top to bottom, sucking his balls one at a time, sticking out my tongue so he could watch me wrap it around him. Then I took him into my mouth as far as I could, driving him down to my throat every time I lowered myself, helping myself with one hand at the base to jerk him off while I sucked him. I felt his legs trembling and watched him hold on to the sink so he wouldn’t collapse.

“Fuck, Mariela,” he panted. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t hold out like this.”

I sped up. I grabbed his ass with both hands, pulled him toward my face, and let him fuck my mouth without restraint, thrusting into me as I heard him breathing unevenly above me. The truth was, I enjoyed it quite a lot: feeling that cock hitting the back of my throat, tasting his sweat and all the desire he had held in all Friday long. Then, suddenly, he let out a growl, grabbed me by the hair, and came without warning. The first spurt hit my palate, hot and thick; he left the rest inside, with three short thrusts, until he emptied himself. My mouth was full of semen and, above all, I was much more desperate than I had been when I entered.

“Sorry,” he murmured, half-embarrassed, his cock already softening against my cheek. “I couldn’t hold it.”

I didn’t say anything. I swallowed, wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my thumb, rinsed my mouth at the tap, touched up my lipstick in front of the mirror, and left before him, still hot, my pussy still throbbing inside my panties, still unsatisfied. As I returned to the table, I thought that frustration would last all night and part of the weekend. I had no idea how wrong I was.

***

What I hadn’t calculated on was my boss realizing everything. Adrián was a man in his forties, the kind who never needed to raise his voice to make you feel that he was in charge. When I returned to the table, he discreetly sat beside me, in the chair Esteban had left vacant.

“What were you doing?” he asked me directly, without beating around the bush.

“Nothing,” I replied.

“Nothing? You left the bathroom together,” he said, and there was more amusement than reproach in his voice.

I looked him in the eyes. I could have invented an excuse; a thousand women would have. But something about the calm, confident way he looked at me made me want to tell the truth.

“I just sucked him for a little while,” I replied. “And he came in my mouth in two minutes, so I didn’t even enjoy it.”

He wasn’t surprised by the act itself. What seemed to throw him off was my frankness, how brazenly I admitted it without lowering my eyes. He smiled silently and nodded slowly, like someone who had just discovered something that interested him.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said at last. “You have a great body, and it’s obvious you’re a horny woman. The kind who needs someone to fuck her properly, not come in her mouth and walk away.”

“You think so?” I replied coquettishly, playing with the rim of my glass.

“I’d like to find out how well you do it,” he said, looking me in the eyes, already resting one hand on my thigh and sliding it beneath my dress without disguising what he was doing, until it brushed against my panties, still wet from before. “Look at you. That bastard left you wanting.”

I shuddered at the touch of his warm palm as it moved higher and higher with a calmness that turned me on more than any haste could have. He ran a finger over the fabric, pressing my clitoris through my panties, and I opened my legs a little wider without thinking. I felt the night veering toward somewhere much more interesting.

“Then let’s go,” I said. “And this time you’re going to put it in me.”

I surprised myself with that answer, which I hadn’t even thought about. It came out on its own, from some part of my body that had been silent for too long. I nodded, wearing a crooked half-smile. We left the bar without saying a word, each of us taking a different route so no one would connect the dots, and met at the corner.

***

There was a motel two blocks away, one of those discreet places with covered garages. We went in without saying much, still carrying the bar’s electricity on our skin. As soon as he closed the room door, Adrián came up behind me and kissed my neck while lowering the zipper of my dress. He pressed his bulge against my ass, squeezing me with it so I could feel how hard he was. I pushed backward and rubbed my buttocks against his cock, grinding against him, and heard him grunt softly.

He wasn’t in a hurry, and that was what I liked most. Esteban had been pure adolescent urgency; Adrián was something else. He turned me around, sat me on the edge of the bed, and undressed me slowly, watching me the way someone watches something they’ve been waiting a long time for. He took off my bra and looked at my tits without touching them yet. Then he lowered himself, knelt between my legs, and removed my panties with his teeth, biting the inside of my thigh along the way.

“You don’t have to rush with me,” he said, tracing my shoulder with one finger. “I want to get a good look at what’s in front of me. I want to see your pussy spread open before I eat it.”

I let him look. There comes an age when you stop hiding your body beneath the sheets and start enjoying being watched, and I had reached it a while ago. I felt his gaze move down and linger on my hard nipples, my belly, my already soaked and throbbing pussy. Instead of covering myself, I leaned back slightly, braced on my hands, and spread my legs so he could see everything, even the pinkest parts, even my asshole.

“That’s how I like it,” he murmured. “You little slut.”

When he was naked, I knelt again. But this time it wasn’t out of obedience; it was because I wanted to. I saw his cock and my mouth watered: thick, long, its veins standing out, his balls heavy beneath it. I grabbed it at the base, squeezed it, and ran my tongue from underneath all the way to the tip, giving him one long, slow lick. I sucked his balls first, one and then the other, taking them into my mouth one at a time. Then I moved up and took him all at once, all the way down, until I gagged.

I sucked him calmly, looking up at him, enjoying the power a woman has when she knows exactly what she’s doing. I spat on him to lubricate him better and worked him with my hand and mouth at the same time, twisting my wrist with every upward stroke, sucking the tip with my lower lip stretched over it, sticking out my tongue so he could watch me circle his glans.

“Good God, Mariela,” he said, his eyes half-closed. “You really do it well. What a filthy whore’s mouth you have.”

“I told you,” I replied, and went back to what I was doing, swallowing him down to my throat again.

“I think you’re going to leave reception,” he murmured hoarsely. “I want you as my secretary. My private secretary. With that mouth, you can’t be answering telephones.”

“And the girl who’s there now?” I asked suggestively, not letting go of him while I stroked his balls with my fingertips.

“I’ll find somewhere to put her,” he replied. “You’re coming with me. And every morning before the ten o’clock meeting, you’re going to suck me like this.”

I smiled against his skin and kept going. I don’t know whether he meant it or whether it was just the heat of the moment, but I liked the idea more than I wanted to admit.

After a while, he had me completely naked on the sheets, on my back, with his head between my legs and his tongue moving slowly over me. He spread my pussy open with two fingers and gazed at it for a moment like someone admiring something. Then he lowered his mouth and ate me hungrily. He licked my outer lips from the outside inward, plunged his tongue inside me, pulled it out, and pushed it back in, fucking me with his tongue while his thumb pressed against my clitoris.

I had spent so long being the one who gave that I had almost forgotten what it was like to receive like this, without a clock, without guilt, with someone determined to make me come undone. I clung to the sheets and let myself shudder, arching against his mouth. He slipped two fingers inside me and curled them inward, searching for my G-spot, while he sucked my clitoris with his lips sealed around it.

“You’re trembling,” he said, lifting his face for a moment, his mouth and chin glistening with me. “I like it. You’re going to come in my mouth, aren’t you?”

“Don’t stop,” was all I managed to ask. “Don’t stop, please.”

I grabbed his head with both hands and pressed him against me, desperate, rubbing my pussy across his face, moving my hips against his tongue. I came like that, in his mouth, my legs closing around his head, with a cry I didn’t bother to stifle. I felt the contractions inside me, my pussy squeezing his fingers, and he kept sucking me through the very last release, drawing out every last drop.

When he lifted his face, he was smiling, satisfied. He sat up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and leaned against the pillows on his back, his cock pointing at the ceiling, harder than before. He tugged at my hand so I would sit on top of him.

“Now you ride me,” he said. “I want to watch you work.”

I climbed astride him, grabbed his cock, positioned it at my entrance, and lowered myself slowly, feeling it enter inch by inch. I let out a long moan that I didn’t bother to hide. I was so wet that it slid almost by itself all the way inside, opening me, filling me to a point I could barely remember. At thirty-eight, I was too old to pretend to modesty I didn’t feel.

I began to move, slowly at first, finding the angle, rotating my hips over him, feeling him all the way to my womb. Then I moved the way my body demanded: all the way down, bouncing on him, my tits jumping in front of his face. He grabbed them, squeezed them, pinched my nipples, and pulled me down to suck them one at a time, biting them while I kept moving on top of him.

“That’s it,” he panted, gripping my hips and digging his fingers into my buttocks. “Just like that. Take all of it, all the way down.”

I leaned back, bracing my hands on his thighs so he could drive deeper into me. He began thrusting upward from below, fucking me from underneath while I lowered myself to his rhythm. The wet slapping could be heard throughout the room, obscene and slick, and instead of embarrassing me, it turned me on even more.

“I’m going to come again,” I warned him, panting.

“Come, slut. Come all over my cock.”

What a pleasure I was feeling. The bastard had plenty to offer, and he knew how to use it. He guided my hand to my clitoris so I could rub it while he fucked me, and that way, with him thrusting up into me and me touching myself above, I came on top of him, slowly and trembling all over, my pussy squeezing him inside me in waves. I had time to ride him a little longer, dazed, until he grabbed my hips, dug his nails into me, and came inside me with three deep thrusts that I felt explode against the back of my pussy.

I stayed on top, still impaled, feeling him empty himself inside me and feeling it run down my thighs when I finally lifted myself. At that moment I knew this wasn’t going to be a one-night thing. I knew I would come back, that I would want more, and that certainty, far from frightening me, gave me a strange sense of calm.

***

The following Monday, I arrived a little late on purpose. The other girl was already at reception and greeted me with barely a gesture, unaware that her chair had really only ever been borrowed. I walked straight past and went directly into Adrián’s office. He was waiting for me.

There were no good mornings and no coffee. He locked the door, lowered the blinds, and sat me on the edge of his desk. He hiked up my skirt, ripped off my panties in one tug, and knelt between my legs to eat my pussy with the same hunger as on Friday, right there on top of the papers on his desk. Then he stood, lowered his trousers, grabbed my hips, and drove into me with one thrust, all the way to the bottom, covering my mouth with his hand so the people in the hallway wouldn’t hear me scream.

What followed became routine: many mornings beginning before the first telephone rang, fucking against the desk, against the window, with him sitting in the chair while I rode him, or me on my knees beneath the desk sucking him while he pretended to take a call. Quick and delicious, with the sign bearing my new name still waiting to be hung on the door.

That was how almost all my mornings went in my new position. Patience had paid off, after all. Not exactly as I had imagined when I signed the contract a month earlier, but sometimes what you seek and what you need aren’t the same thing. And for the first time in a long while, I had both.