Boss Lady 2

Paul looked at his watch as the lift doors opened. 9:15!

He was 15 minutes late! That would not normally be a big deal, except the dragon lady - Paul's boss- had warned him the next time that he was late would be his last!

He carefully opened the office door, getting a knowing look above her glasses from Jordi the receptionist. The look said "You are totally fucked, now, and you deserve it!"

Jordi smiled that insincere smile she was so good at , and Paul ignored her and walked slowly into the open plan office, hoping above all hope that the dragon lady was out , in a meeting or had not noticed his late arrival. He glanced casually at the glass wall to Ms Roberts's office, and his heart missed a beat.

She wasn't there!

She was out! Paul allowed himself a wry smile at his good luck. With a spring in his step, he walked round to his cubicle.

What he saw was not his empty chair in front of his workstation.

It was the Dragon lady!

"Hello, Paul!" said Ann Roberts, with a faint smile curling around the edge of her bright red lips.

"I, er,...Ms Roberts, I'm sorry , I , err..."

"Save it, sonny Jim!" interrupted Ms Roberts.

"I'll give you until 6:15 this evening to think up a good reason why today should not be your last day with us. See me then in my office. Capiche?"

Paul nodded. He felt a churning feeling in his stomach. The dragon lady intimidated him at the best of times, but he hated her having a reason to make him feel bad. She seemed to take a perverse delight in making him feel bad. Which she did.

Regularly.

Paul couldn't afford to lose this job. He cursed himself for having that wank in the shower. The caress of the warm water. The creamy lather of the shower gel. Why was all shower gel like sponk? He had squirted some of the creamy, milky, opaque fluid into his palm. Spread it on his skin. Felt the caress of the viscous fluid on his warm, wet skin. Idly rubbed the suds over his flaccid cock. Felt the thrill of his foreskin gently retract. The tingle of his hand pumping the head of his cock. The sensations are greater when his cock is not hard. Hand pumping faster now. More shower gel squirted into his palm. Cock hard now. Day dreaming of licking pert young breasts, sucking hard pink nipples.

Hand pumping furiously.

Heart pounding.

Cock throbbing.

Breathing faster.

The cum nestled in Paul's palm. White and viscous and opaque. Just like the shower gel.

He felt the delicious release. His spine turned to jelly, as it always did.

As he felt the kiss of the warm water on his skin, he surrendered to its touch. Oh my god! The time! Paul had quickly got out of the shower, dried himself, and raced to the bus. But too late. It was that wank that had made him late. And now it might cost him his job.

All through the day, Paul racked his brain for a reasonable story. Apologise? Invent a story? Tell her to stick her job? He decided to apologise and seek forgiveness . He hated having to humiliate himself in front of the dragon lady, but he could see no choice. He needed the job. Maybe she might relent.

Maybe.

At 5:30 the office staff started drifting away. One by one they went. Paul was usually gone by now. He lingered at his desk. Pretending to work, but he was too distracted to concentrate on work. Finally, the clock ticked over to 6.15.

6.20

6.25

6.30

Time dragged on. Paul wanted to get it over with. Why didn't she come and get it over with?

His phone rang. Paul answered it.

"I will see you now" sneered Ms Roberts.

Paul steeled himself and rose from his seat and walked towards Ms Roberts's office. As he walked through the office, he saw empty seats and computer screens showing screen savers. He felt a little vulnerable. The cockiness that he had felt earlier disappeared.

He walked to the door which was ajar. He knocked gingerly.

The dragon lady ignored him. She was listening on the phone, smiling and she gestured for him to sit down on the chair opposite her desk. He sat, she stood.

She stood in front of him, and reached across him to push the door shut. The door clicked behind him. As she stood in front of him, he could smell her perfume. It was incense like, aromatic and strong. This close to her, he could see her lacy bra through her white blouse. She stood over him, making him feel small. He wondered if he should look up. What is she was looking down at him, and she caught his eye?

He decided to look straight ahead. But all he could see was her blouse and the outline of her breasts. She was a little too close and so Paul looked away nervously across her desk. Papers, files, journals. No photos. She had no friends he thought. The conversation dragged on, and finally she sat down and crossed her legs. She was staring at him, talking away. She played idly with the telephone cord, wrapping it around her finger, all the while maintaining eye contact with Paul.

He felt his cheeks colour at the intense stare from this powerful woman who had the right to hire him and fire him. Why didn't she just get it over with?

Finally, she brought the conversation to a close and put the receiver down.

"Now then," she said in her schoolmistress style that she reserved for such occasions, "I've kept you waiting a little bit longer than 15 minutes Paul, haven't I?"

Paul was surprised. What was this question?

"Cat got your tongue? I said I've kept you waiting haven't I , Paul?"

"Yes, Ms Roberts" Paul said, like a naughty school boy.

The dragon lady grinned at him. She knew that he was putty in her hands, and she was loving it. She thought for a moment, and looked beyond Paul to the office outside.

"Go and turn out the lights in the main office please."

Paul looked up and she nodded with her head at the open plan office outside her own office. Paul walked outside and turned off the banks of switches, until the large room was bathed in an eerie blue glow from the monitors. He walked back into Ms Roberts's office. She was still seated at her chair, but something, Paul couldn't say what , was different about her.

Did she have her hair down, before? He couldn't recall.

She asked him to close the door behind him, which seemed a little unnecessary, as all the other staff had already gone. It just served to increase his feelings of trepidation.

"Why shouldn't I give you your cards, right now?" she asked.

All of his carefully rehearsed responses deserted him. His mind went blank. Panic set in.

"Mrs Roberts, I can't afford to lose this job"

"Mrs Roberts?" she repeated, quizzically.

"So you insult my intelligence by arriving late, then insult me further by assuming that I would want to debase myself by marrying something way down the food chain, like a man?"

Paul felt himself flush. He knew he would end up feeling inadequate, and it had come true. He was annoyed with himself, and felt more exposed than ever.

"Why were you late?"

"I don't know Ms Roberts"

"Talk me though your morning, Paul. What time did you wake up?"

"6:30"

"That should be plenty of time to get to work for 09:00. How long is the bus journey, 20 minutes? So you must have left the house at 08:50 let's say. So what were you doing between 06:30 and 08:50? That's more than two hours!"

Paul felt his cheeks colour. She saw his cheeks colour. She could smell his discomfort, and she loved it. She decided to carry on. She stood up , stood over him, bent forward and rested her hands on the arms of his chair, and looking him full in the eye said:

"What takes two hours in the morning, Paul?"

He was intimidated by her presence, he scent was more pungent, and as she leant forward over his chair, he could see down the front of her blouse. Her breasts fell forward, each cupped in a lack bra. He could see the scalloped edging to the bra, the curves of her full breasts, and the valley between them.

She knew this, of course, and let him drink in the vista.

"Are you looking down my blouse?" she asked, indignantly.

"No, Ms Roberts"

"You wicked boy!" she sneered, and tugged at the back of her blouse to end the peep show.

"What exactly were you doing for two hours this morning, or is this display of lasciviousness sufficient clue?"

Paul remained silent. What could he say? Cornflakes don't take two hours to eat.

"Were you masturbating?"

Paul was shocked. He didn't really know what lasciviousness meant, though he knew it was bad, but he knew what masturbation was, but he didn't know how Ms Roberts knew!

He glowed, and looked at the floor.

"Well, if you like it so very much, you better show me what is more important than getting ready for work."

With that, Ms Roberts say back down in her chair and joined her finger tips together in a steepling gesture, and stared that searing stare that seems to drill into your very soul.

Paul felt uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Was she serious? Did she really want him to wank in front of her?

She answered him in the most direct way possible. She stood up suddenly and grabbed hold of his tie and yanked him to a standing position. She said "hands on you head!" which he did obediently, and then she undid his belt, undid his trouser button, and slid down his zip.

Before Paul knew what was happening she slid his trousers round his ankles and he stood there half naked in front of his boss!

"Well go on" she encouraged him

"You had no problem this morning, did you? I want to see how this takes two full hours"

He didn't dare make eye contact but eventually he looked and she nodded at him to continue. His cock was coming to life and he slid his hand under his shirt to hold his cock in his right hand. Her eyes watched him intently, like she was judging his performance. He casually dragged back his foreskin, and felt that supreme thrill of forbidden fruit. His cock was hardening now, and so he mechanically tugged at his cock.

"Put some effort into it!" she barked, like a drill instructor on the parade ground.

He quickened the pace. She was smiling now and Paul saw her adjust her position slightly in her chair. Is this how she get her jollies, he wondered?

If she was a drill sergeant, his cock was saluting her now, but she barked another command as his pace quickened.

"Kneel down!"

He looked surprised at her. But she repeated the instruction. His heart was beating faster now as the effort of wanking had raised his heart rate.

She stretched out her leg, with a black leather shoe encasing her foot.

"Kiss it"!

"Kiss it!"

He obeyed his mistress.

"Take it off"

"Kiss my foot"

He could smell the leather, feel the warmth, smell her scent.

He kissed her foot gently, and he fancied that he sensed her recoil, as if she shivered with delight.

"Higher"

"Higher"

"That's enough!"

"Now the other foot"

He rained tiny kisses on her stockings, on her feet, her ankles, her calves, behind her knees, on her thighs, but she stopped him before he could do any further.

With his head between her thighs, tightly clasped together, his nose one centimetre from her panties, she gripped her legs together, and felt such power coursing through her body she could feel her juices flowing.

He drank in her scent and felt the warmth of her body, all sound shut out by her thighs on his ears. A muffled sound in the distance said:

"Gently, and slowly, roll down my stockings. First the right one"

He obeyed, dutifully.

"Now the other one"

"Place them on that chair"

"Take off your shirt"

She climbed out of the chair and sat on the edge of the desk, stretching out her legs in front of her.

"Kneel here"

She indicated for him to kneel in front of her, between her legs.

"Take off my panties"

He eased them over her bottom, lifting her off the desk one buttock at a time.

"Put them in your mouth"

He complied with every instruction now without question, as his cock was bobbing up and down like a buoy at sea.

"Masturbate again, only call out my name while you do it"

He needed no second invitation, and he eagerly wanked his cock while muttering "Ann", "Ann", "Ann"

He looked ridiculous. The panties in his mouth meant he couldn't speak properly and she watched as he wanked hard calling out her name. She guessed he was ready to come, so she asked him to stop.

"Enough"!

"Kiss my feet"

He looked at her quizzically. He wanted to come, but she wasn't letting him. Reluctantly, he kissed her foot, her calf, her knee, the back of her knee, her thigh and waited for her to stop him going any higher.

The request never came.

His tongue licked her thighs where her leg joined her body and he traced gentle tongue strokes, expecting her to stop him. But her eyes were tightly shut, if he could but have seen, and she was willing him to penetrate her lips with his silver tongue and taste her wetness.

Eventually, he boldly gripped her buttocks in each hand and drew her body towards him, before planting the most sensitive kiss on the lips of her pussy. She shuddered with excitement. But he persisted, running his tongue along the length of her lips, flicking her clitoris on each stroke. She could feel his unshaven roughness against her smooth skin, and he nuzzled her soft thighs, before parting her lips gently with his fingers, and sucking on her clitoris, gently at first, but more boldly as her body told him that she wanted more.

He licked, and sucked, and bit, and kissed her pussy for what seemed like an age, 29 minutes, to be precise, before his knees ached from the hard floor, his cheeks stung from her juices on his skin, and her body finally arched its convulsion of pleasure as he thrust three fingers inside her sopping pussy.

She leant back on the desk, drinking in her orgasm, enjoying the ecstasy, ignoring him. He had long since lost his erection, and she didn't care. She shut her eyes tight, and meditated upon the moment. When she opened her eyes he had gone. Clothes, shoes, shirt, all gone.

She smiled a secret smile, and dressed herself, before writing a letter to Human Resources requesting that they terminate Paul's employment immediately.