When I was 28, and before I became a writer, I was working a junior-level civil engineer. I was employed by a firm that specialized in bridge design. My immediate supervisor -- my boss -- was a single, 40-year-old woman named Diana.
She was brilliant. Not only was she the most innovative design engineer in the firm, but she was also a pilot and had an incredible mechanical mind. She actually built (and flew) her own airplane. She had to install an engine, which she took from a used Porche and adapted the kit to house it. It was a kit plane; but still, she built an airplane!
She was a tough, but fair, boss. Not mean, but definitely demanding, and very much "the boss." She let me, and everyone else who answered to her, know that she was the one in charge and giving the directions -- and you were expected to follow them without question. Period.
She wore the pants in the office. Literally and metaphorically. She always wore jeans to work unless she was required by our CEO to attend a client meeting, then she came to work in a skirt. She always changed back to jeans after the meeting.
Despite Diana's hard-ass work personality, I enjoyed chatting with her when not working. We had several common interests. So, we occasionally had lunch together and more rarely went out after work for drinks with several other employees. Then, on one occasion, we found ourselves alone -- just the two of us -- at our usual happy hour watering hole. It was a dive bar only a mile from work, and half-way between her home and our office.
After a couple of cocktails (okay I had three or four) we decided to leave. Walking to our cars, with me following her, I suddenly noticed how good her ass looked in those jeans. Silly as it sounds, I don't think I had ever thought of her as a woman before. She was just my boss, 12 years older, and an infallible senior engineer. Not a sexual object.
When we got to her car, she turned to me to say, "Good night, drive safe." And then I did something spontaneously insane. I leaned in and kissed her. I honestly don't know what I was thinking at that moment. I guess I wasn't thinking. I could have lost my job. I was a bit drunk, and my testosterone had kicked in when I saw that ass swaying in front of me. It was like a red cape to a bull. And I charged in.
When I kissed her; she kissed back. Passionately. With tongue. Talk about a greenlight! And I hit "go". I cupped her ass with both hands and we started to make out while standing, right there in the parking lot. Lust had overcome me. I removed my right hand from her butt and cupped her pussy mound. I think I would have fucked her in the parking lot at that point. But she was less drunk and far more sensible.
She stopped kissing me and said simply and forcefully, "Get in the car. My place is just a mile from here." And that was the last bossy thing she said or did for the rest of that night.
She drove us home in silence with my hand resting on her leg like we were a loving old married couple. But five minutes later, we were making out again at her front door while she fumbled for her house key.
We stumbled through the door and I took off my jacket and casually hung it on a rack by the door. She dropped hers on the floor. She was wearing jeans and a simple button-down shirt.
I kissed her and immediately started unbuttoning her blouse. I was wasting no time. But she did not seem to mind.
The next thing I knew, she was fully naked and I was shirtless and in bare feet. But I do not remember now how that happened. I can't recall any of our clothing coming off. Yet somehow it did... And now she was standing in front of me, nude. She placed her palm flat on my chest and her expression seemed to suggest she also wondered how she got naked.
I start kissing her far more passionately. She felt my fingers parting her as we stood and she moaned softly. She was no longer the boss of me. Intending to embrace her, we accidently stumbled backward in a clumsy Tango. We bumped into a big leather ottoman and club chair in her living room when the backs of her knees collided with the ottoman. I dropped to mine and buried my face into her fully engorged pussy. It smelled fantastic. I breathed her in deeply.
I think she started to say, "Fuck me..." But then gave in to the pleasure as I started licking her slit. Since I seemed to be truly enjoying the activity, she left me to it. Then I found my mark and rubbed it long and hard.
My tongue was still on her clit as I brought her to orgasm. That was crazy fast, I thought. Knowing her climax was on its way, I had the forethought to unzip my jeans. At the very moment she started to come, I was between her legs and in her, with my pants still on. She finished her orgasm with me fully deep inside her.
She sort of purred in pleasure as we moved together, kissing as we did so. I could feel her pussy contractions in waves. I wondered if that was another mini-orgasm, or just the final vestiges of the first one echoing within her.
I decided it was time to give her another big one. I alternated between doing her orally and fucking her in a slow, mercilessly prolonged way, not allowing her to complete the next orgasm from either form of stimulation before switching to the other. Her body language made it obvious she wanted me to continue fucking her to completion. So, I stopped, stood, and finally fully removed my pants.
With the oversized ottoman pushed against the club chair we had a perfect little bed. She stretched catlike, adjusted some throw pillows, laid back, and got comfortable. I slid up and was in her again. We rocked our hips in unison for some time, with more enthusiasm for the kisses than the fucking.
I stopped kissing her and buried my face in her neck. Her hair smelled great. I slid my hands under her ass and cupped both cheeks just as I did in the parking lot. She pushed her pelvis into me hard, just as she had done in the parking lot. I realized this was our first non-verbal communication of certainty. It said, "Yes, I want you to be dominant. Give it to me hard." She would never be the boss of me outside of the office from now on.