My Boss Lent Me to His Partner Like Another Toy

Octavio is a client of the company, someone from outside whom my boss has been doing deals with for years. Apparently they trust each other so much that my boss told him about me: that I’m his favorite employee, a transvestite he fucks every week without fail, for more than a year now. Octavio likes girls like me too, so it didn’t take him long to ask for my number and start writing to me.

What finally convinced me wasn’t him, but the idea. Knowing that my boss had offered me to a friend like someone lending out one of his own things, a toy he can use and pass from hand to hand whenever he feels like it, turned me on in a way I couldn’t explain. I’m his, and he decides who he shares me with. That sentence kept going around in my head. I told him yes. We arranged to meet on a Thursday night.

We chose a small café on a quiet street, a place with low light and separate tables where I could go dressed as a woman without fearing anyone would recognize me. It suited Octavio as much as it suited me: he’s married and has a reputation as a womanizer, so neither of us wanted witnesses.

We talked much more than I expected. He made me laugh, ordered a bottle of wine, and let me choose dessert. But under the table something else was happening. Since the moment we sat down, I felt his foot slowly climbing up my calf.

He had taken off his loafer on purpose. I understood right away: he wore that kind of shoe so he could slip his foot out whenever he wanted, run it over my legs, and feel the texture of my stockings against the sole. He went up and down, slowly, unhurriedly, as if we had all night.

—You’ve got gorgeous legs —he said, never taking his eyes off mine—. I’ve been thinking about them all through dinner.

—Just my legs? —I answered, draining my glass.

—Your legs, to start with.

The caress felt strange and arousing at the same time. By the time we asked for the check, all I wanted was for us to leave as soon as possible. Octavio hadn’t stopped hinting that he wanted me in his bed, and I was ready to give it to him.

***

He had an apartment a couple of streets from the café. We walked there, and halfway there he pushed me against a wall on a dark corner and kissed me. He grabbed my ass over the dress, squeezed it, gave me a couple of soft slaps. I rubbed his thigh between my legs and felt him harden against my hip.

—Come on —he whispered in my ear—, before we get arrested.

We went into the apartment still kissing. He led me by feel to the bedroom, without turning on the light, and we fell onto the bed together. My ass was burning, aching for him to take me already. I started lifting the skirt of my dress to pull down my stockings, but he stopped my hand.

—No —he murmured—. Keep the stockings on. I want them there.

He wants them there. I didn’t fully understand, but I obeyed.

He stood up, switched on a warm lamp, and dragged a small chair to the edge of the bed. He sat down with his pants already at his ankles. Under the fabric of his boxers, his erection was visible, thick, impatient.

—Bring me your feet —he asked.

I sat facing him at the edge of the mattress and offered him my right foot. He took it in both hands as if it were something fragile. Still wearing the shoe, he started kissing it, rubbing it over his face, breathing in the smell of nylon. Then he took the shoe off slowly and started licking the sole as if his life depended on it.

The sensation was new to me. No one had ever treated me like that, no one had ever been my complete focus in that way. It felt strange and yet it was making me hotter and hotter.

He did the same with my left foot: kissed it, licked it, buried his nose between my toes covered by the stocking. When he’d had enough, he put my right foot on the bulge in his boxers and started moving his pelvis, rubbing himself against my sole, as if he were fucking the arch of my foot.

Seeing him so lost, so surrendered to something so much his own, ignited me in a way I hadn’t expected. Feeling his hardness throbbing against my sole made me let out a moan without even realizing it.

—Do you like feeling it? —he asked, his voice hoarse—. Look how hard you’re getting me.

—I love it —I answered—. It feels rock hard. It’s gorgeous, baby.

Octavio stood up. He freed his cock from his boxers and brought my two feet together around it, holding them in the air at the height of his pelvis. He started pumping between my soles, fucking my feet wrapped in black nylon stockings, and I watched him do it as if instead of my feet he had my ass.

—You’re gorgeous —he panted—. How many have you let do this to you, huh? How many through your feet?

—No one —I replied, and it was true—. You’re the first. No one’s ever touched me like this.

That seemed to drive him wild. He sped up the motion, squeezed my feet harder, and let out a long groan. He came over my soles, and a warm thread even reached the inside of my thighs. He stayed still for a moment, breathing hard, still holding my feet as if he didn’t want to let them go.

***

A few minutes passed. Octavio lay back beside me and we started kissing again, unhurriedly, letting the heat come back on its own. This time we stripped completely, though I kept my stockings on because I knew he wanted them there.

—Sit facing me —he told me.

I got into position, ready to take his cock, which was already hard again. But he stopped me with a hand on my hip.

—Further back —he ordered—. Level with my feet.

I looked at him without understanding, but obeyed. I slid down until I was squatting, with my ass barely resting on his feet. Then I felt it: he started teasing my asshole with his toes, slowly, pressing, opening me up.

The pleasure was so unexpected that I arched and moaned without being able to help it. How can it feel so good? I had never imagined anything like it.

—You take anything, don’t you? —he said, amused, without stopping moving his toes against my hole—. That’s why your boss doesn’t let you go. A girl like you doesn’t come around every day.

—No, she doesn’t —I panted, barely able to speak.

The caresses of his feet at my entrance were so exquisite that I felt like I was about to come from that alone. He must have noticed, because suddenly he stopped. He took me by the arms, practically lifted me onto him, and sat me on his hard cock, which slid into me with a ease that surprised even me.

—There it is —he murmured against my neck—. That’s it.

I started riding him, up and down on that cock that filled me completely, with moans I no longer bothered to hold back. Octavio gripped my hips and set the rhythm, driving deeper each time.

—That’s it —he said—. Ride it like you know how. That’s how I like it.

—Don’t stop —I begged him—. I love what you do to me. It’s yours, all yours, use it however you want.

And that was what turned me on the most: knowing that tonight I was exactly what my boss had promised him. A body lent out, a whim passed around between friends. Far from bothering me, the idea made me press harder against him, chase each thrust more fiercely.

He came inside me with a long gasp, hugging my back, and I let myself fall onto his chest, empty and trembling, my body still shuddering with orgasm.

We stayed like that for a while, without speaking, listening to each other breathe. I felt more surrendered than when I climbed into that bed. Not only had I let myself be used like an object and enjoyed it: I had discovered a pleasure I hadn’t even known existed.

When I got dressed to leave, Octavio walked me to the door and kissed my forehead, almost tenderly.

—I’m going to ask your boss to lend you to me more often —he said with a smile.

—That —I answered— is for you two to decide.

I went down the stairs with my legs still weak, thinking about the next time. And I had only one thing left to do: tell it, so someone else can enjoy it as much as I did.