Hot for Boss

Up until now, all my previous employers had been women. So I could not help but feel some amount of trepidation at first at being hired by a man, especially one which I found to be so unnervingly charming.

I don't know that I could call this man handsome. Still, he was, without a doubt, pleasant to look at. He was a man somewhere in his late thirties, I estimated, with black hair and blue eyes. His long face was clean-shaven. He was perhaps '5"10, only a scant few inches taller than me. He was well-groomed and looked very professional in a light blue dress shirt and dark grey slacks.

But it was his eyes that drew me the most... when I extended my hand to introduce myself, and those eyes locked onto mine with a startling intensity.

"Roger Casaneda," he said, his hand gripping mine firmly. "It's nice to meet you, Christin." I thought his voice was pleasant, warm and smooth with a slight accent. I couldn't put my finger on it.

I opted for a direct approach. I told him that I was looking for a job and I loved jewellery... and that I was creating my own line of jewellery and wanted to gain experience working in a jewellery store.

Roger and I talked for a few minutes then. He was straight-forward, and he made me laugh with his witty sense of humor.

"Okay," he said. His next words surprised me. "When can you start?"

"We haven't talked salary, yet, Sir," I reminded him. Boldly, and before he had a chance to speak, I said that I wanted $12 an hour. He chuckled, and then was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be turning it over in his head. And then, for the second time that day, he surprised me.

"Alright, then," he said, a smile on his lips. "$12 an hour it is. But, Christin," and he leaned forward, blue eyes piercing. "I expect %110 from you."

"Yes, Sir," I said seriously.

I told him I could start on Monday.

He said, "Great! I'll see you then." And he gave me a smile, which I returned cheerily. I wished him a good day, and left his shop, still smiling.

*****

Monday loomed closer. It was Sunday night, and I was lying on my bed in nothing but my underwear, looking up at the white ceiling. It was after 1 o'clock, and I knew I should be catching up on my sleep so I could feel rested for the big day tomorrow.

Thinking about the job gave me little butterflies in my stomach. Going in to work the first day always made me nervous, and this time was no exception. I knew I had made the right choice for myself... I had decided to take a chance and aim higher than Starbucks or Subway. For one thing, I would be making a good salary, and I would be working at a jewellery store, which was certainly a more respectable place to work.

It was too hot. It had been 31 degrees celcius earlier that day, and with sundown the temperature had dropped, but not by much.

I let my thoughts wander. I thought about the man who would, in a short time, become my boss. I recalled the way his eyes had held my own, his gaze intense... I felt my breath hitch in my throat, and I shivered, despite the heat.

I cursed the temperature. Hot summer nights always made me feel terribly horny. I decided to masturbate to relieve sexual tension, tension which I realized would obviously not be welcome in a professional environment.

Licking my lips in anticipation, my right hand went to my crotch and slipped under the hem of my panties. I was surprised to find myself already wet, and I let out a small gasp as my finger brushed lightly over my sensitive clit.

Five minutes later, I was breathing hard and starting to moan as my left hand teased my painfully hard nipples and my right hand alternated between rubbing my swollen clit and plunging two fingers inside my dripping wet pussy.

Suddenly, my mind conjured an image of my boss kneeling between my thighs, his intense blue eyes dark with desire, his fingers pushing into me... his thumb brushing deliciously against my clit as I arched against him, begging him to fuck me... he lowered himself fully onto my body, pinning me down with his own, and claimed my mouth in a sensual kiss...

My body tensed, and my pussy contracted around my fingers... I threw my head back and came hard, a primal cry escaping my throat as I did, my fingers still rubbing my pussy furiously. I shuddered once, and then I lay there, my breasts heaving as I struggled to catch my breath.

A smile spread across my lips, and I dipped my fingers into the sticky wetness between my thighs, brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked them clean, savoring the sweet, slightly salty flavor on my tongue.

It wasn't until a few moments later, after I had come down from my high, that I thought about what I had done. I had always found myself attracted to older men, specifically older men in positions of authority. And so I vowed to keep my raging hormones under control when I was near my boss. This job was a great opportunity for me, and I was determined not to ruin it.

*****

"Mr. Casaneda," I called into the back room of the shop. For the moment, the store was empty, and I needed to use the washroom.

Everything had gone great on my first day of work. I was proud of myself, with the speed and efficiency at which I had picked up everything he had shown me earlier that day.

I had managed to keep my raging hormones in check. When I did look at my boss, it was with discretion. I was beginning to like him more and more, I mused. As the day wore on, and we got to talking, I had started to feel a bit more comfortable in his presence.

"Yes, Christin. What is it?" Mr. Casaneda asked as he appeared in the doorway leading to the back room.

"I need to use the washroom, Sir," I said. "I won't be long," I added, perhaps unnecessarily.

He nodded. "Alright. I'll take over."

As I finished up in the washroom, I checked my appearance in the mirror above the sink. A pretty young woman with long, curly brown hair and serious brown eyes stared back at me. I brushed a rogue strand of hair away from my face and watched as the young woman mirrored my action.

I had applied a very light amount of make-up for work that day, both because of the summer heat and the place at which I was working. I'd chosen to wear a little eye-liner and a dab of foundation on my face here and there to even out my skin tone and cover the odd blemish. I had opted to wear a pleated black dress skirt and a fitted white blouse.

Thinking I had wasted enough time in front of the mirror, I headed out of the back room to the front counter once more, pleased to find that there wasn't a client in sight. My boss was at the counter, pen in hand, pre-occupied with papers. He glanced up as I entered the room, a distracted look on his face. I smiled at him politely, and then stood with my hands clasped on the counter in front of me.

City noises drifted in through the open door from the street outside the shop. My gaze turned to the window, and I watched the pedestrians who walked by, appreciating the variety, and thinking how different the city was compared to my suburban hometown.

My boss's voice broke through my thoughts. I started, and I realized he was standing next to me. I nearly sighed when I caught a whiff of his cologne. I had no idea what it was called, only that it smelled like Old Spice. "So, Christin," he said in a conversational tone, and one of his hands came up to rest lightly on my shoulder. "How do you like your new job?"

I could feel the heat of his palm through my blouse, and my face started to burn. Inwardly horrified, I pushed aside a number of scenarios trying to present themselves in my head.

Instead, I forced myself to smile politely and look at him while responding, trying not to stumble like an idiot over my words. "It's wonderful, Sir. This job is a great opportunity for me."

My boss nodded. "Please, call me Roger," he said, smiling. He gave me a quick pat on the shoulder and removed his hand. I felt myself relax again, and I realized just how tense I must have become.

The time came to close up shop, and we exchanged goodbyes and I left to catch the bus home.

Later, the events of the day played themselves over in my mind. I berated myself for reacting so inappropriately to my boss's - Roger's - touch. After all, it had been a friendly gesture, nothing more.

*****

The rest of the week progressed without further incident. Roger didn't make any mention about the incident in the back room and neither did I. I forced myself to work harder and to push aside any non-work-related thoughts about my boss. I kept my blouse buttoned up all the way, and wore even less make-up. I hoped I looked more like a prude and less like someone you could kiss.

But after a week, I was starting to realize that my attraction to my boss hadn't dimished. And then I realized a new dilemna had presented itself. I had started to crave his attention. But I wasn't looking for a promotion or a raise, was I? No, I was craving a different kind of attention... the kind of attention I allowed myself when I was alone in my bed at night, thinking naughty thoughts...

I made a choking sound, earning me a strange look from my boss, who was across the room arranging something in a display case. Thankful that the store was empty of customers, I quickly excused myself to the washroom. Only once I was safely inside did I stop and expel a deep breath, which I hadn't realized I was holding.

I knew the right thing to do would be to stop focusing on my feelings for Roger and concentrate harder on my work. But I was too curious for my own good. I wanted to see if I could get a reaction out of him.

What if I unbuttoned the second button on my blouse? I wondered to myself, as I gazed judgementally at my reflection in the mirror. Hands shaking, I undid the button. Beneath my blouse, I was wearing a lacy beige and white bra, which held my 36C breasts up against my chest. Now a considerabe amount of cleavage peeked through, and just a hint of the tops of my breasts.

Now it remained to be seen... what would Roger say?

*****

It was nearing the end of the day, and I was feeling very agitated indeed. The last customers to leave the store had been a young couple. They had been indecisive about what they wanted, and I had had to unlock more than a few display cases to show them different bracelets, necklaces, and earrings. I had just barely managed not to lose my temper.

It was hot, despite the air conditioning inside the store, I was tired after a long day of enquiries and sales, and my feet were starting to ache from standing for hours at a time. And I hadn't caught HIM looking at my cleavage, not even once.

I sighed, and stalked into the back room, where the air was cooler. I was not surprised when my boss followed me. He was probably going to scold me, I realized. I walked to the small fridge, bent down, and took out my bottle of water. I unscrewed the cap and drank deeply.

"Are you feeling okay, Christin?" asked Roger, standing behind me. He reached out then and grabbed my arm, and gently turned me around to face him. His other hand came up to grip my other arm and his eyes scanned me. "You look a bit pale."

"I'll be okay," I replied, trying to ignore his proximity and the feeling of his hands on my bare arms. "It's nothing, really."

I looked up at him, feeling suddenlyakward, and our eyes locked. He made no indication that he was going to move away. By now, alarm bells had started to go off in my head. I dropped my eyes from his, suddenly feeling more uncomfortable with every passing second.

"Christin," said Roger, his voice low. "I don't think it's appropriate that your blouse is unbuttoned as low as it is." I blushed. So he had seen. "I don't want to give my store a bad reputation because one of my employees decided to show off her cleavage like a little slut," Roger went on, his eyes lowered to my chest.

I blinked then, angered by his words. I opened my mouth to make a sharp retort but before I could, my boss pulled me up hard against his body, and before I had time to realize what was happening, I felt his lips against mine.

My eyes widened. Mortified, I tried to pull out of his grip, but I found I could no longer move. My mind was racing. My heart was pounding hard in my chest. I stood paralyzed for a moment as my boss's mouth moved skillfully over my own. Even as I thought of escaping, my lips started to move of their own accord, slowly at first, and then more fervently. Our mouths danced. I was losing myself...

And then I felt his tongue dart past my lips and dip into my mouth, and I finally found the courage to tear myself free of his hold. I stumbled back, brought a hand up to my face, and touched my fingers to my lips. They felt moist and slightly swollen. I could still feel my heart pounding away inside my chest. I struggled to catch my breath. I was tingling all over.

"How - how could you?" I whispered. I realized then, and with a sinking feeling, that I would surely be fired from my job. It was my fault, after all. I had been the one to initiate this behavior.

For a moment, I imagined Roger looked how I felt. Shocked, disgusted, and dismayed. Then an unreadable expression came over his face, and he brought a hand up to rub wearily at his face. He stood in silence for a moment, looking sorry and regretful.

I just stood there. I couldn't trust myself to speak, or even look at him. I was too disturbed. The funny thing was, I later realized, that the kiss had been the least disturbing thing of all. It would have been pleasant, even, if not for the fact that it was entirely inappropriate.

Roger was speaking, and I turned my attention back to him with some effort. "I want you to forget about this." His voice grew louder. "Do I make myself clear? Do you understand me, Christin?" He was looking at me intently. I could read worry and anger on his face.

I nodded, my eyes to the floor.

"Do you understand?" he pressed. I did.

"Yes, Mr. Casaneda," I said, forcefully, meeting his eyes. I was feeling angry again. How dare he kiss me and then tell me to keep quiet about it? I was more disturbed by that than anything else. Wasn't he bordering on threatening me?

"Do up your blouse, and get ready to go home," Roger told me. He shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe I left the front room unlocked." And he left the room, walking briskly, as though it would help him shake off what he had just done.

Now we had both crossed the line.

I stood where I was for a minute. I was confused, and felt like an idiot. I was angry at myself and at Roger. Why had I gone and made a fool of myself? I had almost been fired, I was sure... and it still remained to be seen whether or not he would fire me tomorrow.

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(To be continued. I welcome any comments and constructive criticism you might have. What do you like about it? What are your opinions? Thanks!)