Pay Day

The clock ticks down to the final minute of the work day and I exhale, glancing anxiously toward my boss' office door. A small grin forms on my rouged lips because it's Tuesday. Payday, of sorts. I've hustled and bustled for him all day long, sharpening his pencils to their finest points, meticulously scrubbing the coffee pot, though he rarely tastes the stuff, and repeatedly tucking my limp dark hair into a tight bun to keep it off my neck, which he's said is quite delicious to stare at as I walk away from him to return to my front desk station. It's 5:01 pm on Tuesday and I'm giddy as I twist the locks on the office door, waiting for him to emerge from his private work den. My fingers shake with need to be in his blonde mane as his tongue slithers precariously close to my hot cunt.

"Laurel."

My boss's deep voice booms behind me, making the baby hairs on the back of my neck unfurl and stand on edge. He's awoken from his work coma. He's ready to play. I'm silent, waiting for him to begin his round of questions. I've worked for him in this marketing firm for several weeks now and I know what's in store.

"Have you sharpened all my pencils?"

"Yes." I reply, though I know he only uses black ball point pens.

He steps through the doorway, craning his neck to catch my big brown eyes. I turn to face my boss, remaining still, my hands resting at the hem of my pinstriped skirt.

"Cleaned the coffee pot?"

"Yes." Several times. But I'll do it again for good measure before I cab it home.

My boss nods in approval, stepping toward me in his thousand dollar suit, not a strand of his golden yellow hair out of place. His crystal blue eyes traveling longingly down my lithe body, mentally popping the buttons off my cream-colored blouse.

"Messages?" He drawls, motioning to me in a little circle with his sturdy index finger. It hurts to tear my eyes from his handsome face, but I do. With my back facing my handsome employer, I go over the messages for the day.

"Teller is fine with the reschedule for tomorrow afternoon. Mr. Judson has invited you for golf on Friday..." I bite my lip, recalling the last message. "And your wife would like you to bring home some salmon filets. Three. Because you eat two."

His palm moves to my nape, delicately tickling my lily-white flesh. I exhale, my body waiting for his contact for hours. "You're a good secretary, Laurel." My employer says in that silky tone as he presses up against my back, nudging his hips into my backside. I blush softly as he tilts his head and touches his thin lips to my skin from behind me. "Thank you." I murmur, closing my eyes as his mouth trails down to the trim of my top, where the fabric obstructs his view of my body. "Are you wet for me?" My boss whispers, his fingers gliding down to my waist, slowly pulling my blouse untucked from my skirt.

"Y-yes." My voice quivers in my throat. I come to work wet for him. My panties stick to my soaked cunt lips throughout the day, as I smile and carry out my secretarial duties, pining away for his secret kiss.

"Let's see..." He challenges, wrapping his arms around me, pressing his erection into my ass as his fingers grasp the hem of my skirt, bunching it up to grant himself quick access. I part my legs willingly, biting my red lips as the blonde's fingers make a preliminary pass, just brushing over my puffed cunt lips.

"No panties today, Laurel?" The surprise rings clear in his question. I can sense the smirk on his perfect lips. "No." I reply, wondering if he'll be pleased. I know his wife would never do something so naughty. That's why he likes me better. He's told me so, and I believe him.

A low chuckle resonates in the back of my employer's throat. His is pleased. "Go to the couch." He instructs, releasing me. I beam, knowing I've done well. I will be rewarded. My hands move to my blouse as I go, pulling the tiny buttons free from their holes. His sapphire pools follow my movements as the blouse crinkles in my hands, peeling off my thin frame. I lift my hands to my back, unclasping my blue bra. Have I mentioned how blue has become my favorite color thanks to him?

My admirer shifts his weight from left to right, the tent in his pants apparent as he watches me undress. I discard my bra, dropping it by the foot of the couch, turning toward him so he can see my pert nipples screaming out from my small breasts.

"Open." He hisses, clenching his fists at his sides, beckoning me to finish undressing quickly. I give a slight nod and my cheeks bloom with new heat. My fingers work quickly to push my skirt down, exposing my bare sex for my boss's pleasure. I push my heels off but before I can roll down my knee socks, he's in front of me, grasping my hips, lowering me back on the forest green leather couch in the reception area.

I'm naked, except for my black knee socks. He's fully clothed and sporting a raging hard-on. I know what happens now. I part my legs for him happily, watching with delight as he first devours me with his beautiful eyes, then he licks his lips. I squirm, anticipating the sumptuous lick of his tongue. He grasps my thighs and he sinks to his knees, the pleats coming out of his expensive suit for the righteous cause of eating out his naughty secretary. The powerful executive runs his thick index finger between my damp lips, sending a shiver down my exposed back. The couch wheezes as I lean back on my elbows, pushing my hips toward him.

"I might just give you a raise." He teases, parting my fattened lips, leaning his face in and pressing his tongue flat against my wet flesh. A moan shakes free from my lips. He flicks his tongue against my soaked pink folds, then pushes into my shiny slit, fucking me slowly with as much of its length as he can fit. His eyes lock onto mine and I whimper for more. His thumb presses firmly to my clit, nudging it back and forth as his tongue wriggles between my hot walls.

The phone jingles. It's most likely his wife, asking for the whereabouts of him and her fish filets.

My boss grunts against my wet core, making me whine, pushing his tongue in and out of me more rapidly. I can't help myself now, writhing against his face, I reach for him and grasp two thick tufts of his flaxen hair. He groans into me, licking and sucking my tender flesh, my sweet juices glossing his lips, tongue and chin. I wish he would let me satisfy him in return, but I know he won't. It's his thing. Getting me off, making me cry with pleasure, tasting my dripping cunt. Best employee benefits package I've ever gotten, even if my employer is a bit anal-retentive.

He eases two fingers into my tight hole and I moan loudly, pulling his mouth flush to my aching clit. The ficus is wilting in the corner, I notice briefly, but I don't care. I'll have it replaced by morning. He don't bother to mention either, knowing I'll take care of it. Like a good little secretary.

The teasing man's fingers bang inside my squeezing walls as his tongue swirls over my pink clit, his teeth lightly pulling on it. My thighs tremble. I can't lie still anymore, the pressure building within my glistening cunt intensifying from his efforts. My chest rises and falls before his watchful eyes and he reaches up with his free hand, squeezing my breast in his warm palm. "Uhh," I breathe out shakily, grasping his hair tight, arching my back off the green couch, bucking into my boss's face.

His rough tongue lashes up against my swollen bud and he commands me with a husky voice, "Come." That's all it takes. I whimper and my head falls back, my hair slipping from the pins I've used to secure in place. My dark hair sprawls free over my naked shoulders and my abdomen flexes rapidly. My walls clench tightly around his probing fingers and tongue. They spasm hard and I cum for him, bathing his slick mouth with my precious nectar. He laps up every drop, pressing his nose against my clit, inhaling me deeply. My body shivers, sagging into the couch.

He kisses my inner thighs softly. And it's over. I'm panting for him, my office god, but he pulls away, smoothing his palm over his thinly-veiled erection. "Good work today, Laurel." He murmurs, lifting his hand to run his fingers through his silky locks. The diligent executive adjusts his tie and nods at me, his eyes roving up from my spent frame to finally settle on my eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow." He turns on his polished heel without another word, retreating into his office to gather his things.

I take another moment to compose myself and get up. My legs wobble, the warmth of my orgasm trickles down my thigh. I smile to myself, pulling my clothes together. I get dressed and I hobble to the reception desk and pen a note to myself: "Replace ficus." I wash the coffee pot, my clit still tingling. He leaves from the back door, I leave through the front. I continue to wait for my raise.