"You're not going anywhere, boy," she laughed, licking her lips and staring at me with her dark eyes suddenly narrowed, almost menacingly. "I'm just getting started with you."
My eyes blinked, adjusting to the light she had turned on. The sight was breathtaking. My boss, Angela, was straddling my naked body, her wet, hairy pussy pressing down on my half-hard cock. I lay between the softness of two thick, shapely thighs, that were gently squeezing my lower torso. She had a slight belly, but it only completed the perfect curves of her mature, womanly body. She was leaning forward on her hands, elbows turned out toward me, and the angle made her heavy breasts swing forward slightly and waver with the rise and fall of her breath. Her nipples were large and erect, and I longed to lean in and take them in my mouth again. Thick, black curls of hair, now heavy with sweat, fell around her flushed face, and I swore I saw a drop of my cum still clinging to her lips. She must have seen it catch my eye; slowly, her tongue snaked out the corner of her mouth and delicately licked it away. The sight of her tongue made me shiver again, as I thought about her licking and sucking my cock.
She must have seen the lust in my eyes. "What was that about going, now?" she asked, still licking her lips, slowly. I sat up, partially, and realized that she had placed her hands over my wrists, effectively pinning me to the bed.
A terrible feeling of panic welled up in my chest. Here I was, pinned to the bed, with Angela's juices still drying on my lips and chin, my boss... what had we done?
I wrenched myself free of her grip, squirmed out of the bed and ran across the room, striking the closed door before opening it and falling clumsily into the living room onto the thick carpet, where I lay, panting, gripping it, ready to cry or scream or something, I didn't know what. What the fuck was going on? Fucking my boss? And her... her way of talking... demanding... punishing... I wanted to run, but I didn't know where to go. I didn't even know where my clothes were.
"Michael,"
Her fingertips brushed through my hair, and I looked up, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. It was the first time she had said my name all day. She had found a white blouse and pulled it on; now one hand held it tightly closed across her chest while the other traced stroked me hair behind me ear. Looking at her soft brown eyes, I saw that she, too, was on the edge of tears.
"Michael," she said, "I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have... it was too much, too soon... I thought, I thought you were ready, I thought you... that you needed..." Her voice trailed off as she bit her lower lip to stave off the tears. Abruptly, she turned her head, and whispered, "Go. Go ahead. Go home."
For the second time in just a few hours, I was seeing a side of Angela I'd never seen before. I sat up, reached over and touched her cheek. "No," I said, brushing her hair away from her face. "It's OK, I'm OK..." I was confused, but curiosity was getting the better of me. "You said – you said you thought I needed something. What is it?"
She sniffled and lifted her face, her eyes meeting mine as a few stray tears ran down her cheeks. She released her grip on the blouse and it fell open, revealing the dark valley between her breasts. The sight of smooth flesh stirred feelings of arousal deep in my chest, but I tried to ignore them. I had to know what she was thinking.
"I don't want to say," she said, shaking her head. "You'll probably think I'm depraved or something... God, look at me, here, a desperate old slut, practically raping you..."
"What is it, Angela?" I asked, grabbing her by the shoulders. Her face fell toward the floor again. When she finally spoke, it was in a whisper.
"I thought you needed a master."
"What – what do you mean?" I stammered.
"I spend a lot of time watching people in this business," Angela said, lifting up. The blouse fell open farther to reveal her nipples again, and unconsciously I licked my lips, thinking of taking them in my mouth and sucking. She continued, casually displaying her body to me as she spoke: "I see them at their most vulnerable, their most emotionally raw. Funerals, weddings. And I can tell you something, Michael" - at this she pressed her right palm against my bare chest, and with her left hand guided my own towards her until it rested at against the point just below her shoulders where the softness of her tits began. "Inside, right here – no matter how many books we read or movies we watch, we're just animals – hungry, irrational creatures that are terrified of the dark. We pretend to be something more than that, and I guess in some ways we are... but deep down, every one of us has a scared little animal that just wants to eat and fuck and not get hurt." She smiled, and blinked away the remains of her tears. "That's right, fuck. Of course I don't do this, but there's a little something inside me that just wants a nice, hard, velvety smooth cock, and doesn't care how I get it or who it's attached to. I'd be lying to myself if I tried to pretend I didn't feel that way sometimes, and so I feed it, little by little. You've got to feed that animal inside, Michael, or you'll lose you mind. You'll just go crazy."
"When I first saw you, you seemed like an unwanted puppy... I thought about you going home to that lonely apartment, with no one to keep your bed warm. I could hear it in your voice, that sad resignation when you said good-bye to me after work – and I started to think about what I could do for you." She laughed a little, and continued, stroking my thigh casually with her right hand. "Oh, I didn't go there – at least not at first. I started off just thinking I would ask you stay for dinner some night, make sure you got a decent meal, and so on. But then I started thinking of other things... I started thinking about you at night, when I lay in bed, touching myself. I realized that, if I was going to take you in, I was going to take you in completely." Once again, her voice seemed to drop in pitch, as she sat up straight and leaned back against the door frame. Without getting up from the floor where we were sitting, she unfolded her beautiful, pale legs and spread them wide, revealing herself. Head tilted back, she looked down at me through narrowed eyes, no trace of a smile left on her face. The hand that had caressed my leg now drew cautiously back and dangled at the entrance to her hot, wet cunt.
"Do you understand what I'm offering you?" she asked, slowly stroking herself with her index finger, just barely moving. I felt my cock stiffen at the sight. "You don't have to be lonely anymore. You don't have to be lost. I can take care of you, I can protect you from those dark, solitary nights. You won't worry about what to do – because I'll always tell you. You'll be all mine." As the last words escaped her ruby lips, she plunged her middle finger deep into her pussy, closing her eyes and sighing. Then, slowly, she drew it out again, brought it to her lips, and sucked delicately on the tip, tasting her own juices.
"What do – what do I have to do?" I asked. Her eyes snapped open.
"Submit. Obey. Come when I call." She smiled wickedly. "I'm a very kind master, Michael – but I keep my pets well-trained."
I swallowed, nervously.
"Michael," she continued, suddenly and oddly maternal in her manner. "I care about you very much. You're a wonderful young man and I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?"
I nodded.
"If you don't want to do this, we can forget the whole thing. You can go home, and tomorrow morning when you come to work, it'll be like it never happened. But if you do..." Her voice trailed off, and she sighed, then pressed her lips together firmly as though she were in pain. "If you do, I need you to repeat these words, just as I say them. OK?" She drew a deep breath.
