Doin' the Boss

It had been whirlwind day, a tornado could have hit the middle of our office and it would have been tame when compared to the actions of my boss, Jim Dickens.

Mr. Dickens was a nice man, 40ish with a receding hairline. There were times when he was great to work with, but at other times...well, he was a bear. He had a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde type of personality that made most people walk on eggs around him. One minute he'd be Mr. Nice Guy, while at others, Dr. Dumb Ass.

He made me wish I was working for my old boss, K. Linford Little. Now, Mr. Little was a gem to work with. Of course, I had been sleeping with him while working as his administrative assistant, which might have just a little bit to do with his demeanor toward me.

To clarify, I never actually did sleep with the married man. But I did, well, orally satisfy him at the drop of the hat. I even thought he'd leave his wife for me. It took a long time, several years in fact, to come to the realization that it was never to be, and after a while I couldn't handle that fact. Soon, I dropped him. After I left my job for another, I missed the companionship, the sensual encounters, the danger, but I swore I'd move on and never see him again.

That was the plan, anyway. In reality, we ultimately got back together. I wasn't on the marriage track anymore, and like the song goes, Girls Just Want To Have Fun. I had all kinds of fun with Mr. Little. He's just so damned sexual, a teenager dressed up in mature clothing.

But I digress. On this particular morning Mr. Dickens was scurrying around the floor like a chicken with his head cut off. He snapped at Julie, his financial analyst, and then barked so loud at Amber that she made a beeline to the ladies room for a good cry. It was only a matter of time before I'd do something to tick him off.

I decided to pre-empt the potential onslaught by heading into my boss' office and, well, flirt a little. Now, mind you, it hadn't been something I'd done in the past (with him) but I did know my legs drew his gaze from time to time. Luckily, on this day, I had worn thigh high stockings which, when I sat down and crossed my legs, rose up to show their lacy tops.

While I didn't want anything to happen, I did want to get Mr. Dickens' mind into a better, calmer, happier place.

It made me wish for the day's when I worked for Mr. Little. Once I got to know him, Linford was easy to understand. The man liked to have me clean his cock with my tongue, a task which I did very well! At least that's what he told me when I was on my knees under his desk or in the front seat of his car.

In any event Mr. Dickens growled when I knocked on his door.

"What do you want, can't you see I'm busy?" barked my current boss.

"Uh, Mr. Dickens, can I ask you some advice? I mean, some personal advice?" was my syrup like response, slipping onto the seat in front of his desk and crossing my legs. The move had the desired effect, as Mr. Dickens' eyes were drawn to my legs and the stocking tops. I thought they'd pop right out of their sockets.

"It's my boyfriend. He's, well, been pressuring me a lot, and it has made me a little lame-brained. I just wanted to apologize if I've been a little bit ditsy lately," I said, looking at the floor so he had a free view of my legs.

"Pressuring? About what?"

Duh, what did he think? Laundry soap?

"This is embarrassing, but it's about, well, you know, sex."

"Oh, I see," said my boss, brimming with empathy. "Well, you are very pretty and I understand why he'd feel that way about you. But you need to stand your ground. He should understand that."

Laughing inside, knowing I regularly satisfied my current beau, I demurely nodded my head and thanked him for his sound advice.

I left the wooden-paneled office and sat down at my desk, hoping Mr. Dickens would be in a better mood after our little discussion. I actually wondered if he'd masturbate while thinking of me that night, if not sooner. Yuck! I wondered how often he and the Mrs. bounced booty in their matrimonial bed, and whether they were adventurous or stuck with the good old "in and out, in and out" missionary position.

Work quickly got in the way of my daydreaming, as between the phones and e-mail the next hour went quickly. After finishing one call my phone rang again, and I was pleasantly surprised by the sexy voice of Mr. Little.

"Hi ya sweetie, how's your morning?"

I mentioned how crazy it had been, then asked what he was up to. When we spoke the night before he mentioned he'd taken the day off for an early doctor's appointment.

"Decided to take the whole day off, honey. Just dropped "her" off for a hair appointment and have an hour and a half. Want to get together?"

In Little-code, that meant "Do you want to suck my dick". The man was quite predictable, but his words didn't insult me. I hate to admit it, but it was kinda sexy having the man wants me so often. Besides, sucking dick is something I love doing.

Telling him I could meet him in the parking garage in 10 minutes I made sure I had coverage for lunch and headed to the ladies room to spruce up my makeup before heading to my rendezvous. There, sure enough, was my former boss in his SUV. Slipping inside onto the front seat, we properly drove away from the downtown area like a couple business people heading to lunch. Of course, instead of heading toward restaurant row we turned away from major civilization. All the while Mr. Little stroked my stocking covered leg and actually let out a little "ooh" when he felt the stocking tops.

"That's so sexy, honey, I wish I could get Mary to wear them," said my former boss of his wife. "Your legs feel so good, and the stockings look so good on your legs. They feel good, too. I like the way they set off the whites of your thighs."

I thought I'd blush, but simply stammered a thank you.

Mr. Little made his way to a local park where we embraced (finally) and kissed with some privacy. The sensation was exquisite, as Mr. Little can kiss. Heck, he's an awesome kisser. We made out for a couple minutes, but nearby sounds of vehicles arriving brought us up for air.

Unfortunately, several other cars came into the area and anything more than slight making out was not going to happen. We held hands, talked, he stroked my stockings some more and then he started the car and drove toward the other side of the park. Stopping by a baseball field, we walked hand-in-hand, making our way to one of the dugouts.

Now, I knew my way around a baseball diamond, having played softball throughout high school. And thinking back to those days I remember Debbie Stevens saying she and football hunk Ed Teeterman doing the nasty late one night in one of these same two dugouts. Hum...

It wasn't hard to get me to visit the home team dugout and sit my fanny next to Mr. Little. Once again I tasted and licked his masterful lips. Moving my hand down to his tenting pants, I complimented him on his arousal.

"Oh, Robyn, you always get me hot," said the man as I stroked his dockers.

It didn't take much to convince me, actually, it was just his pushing my head a little, and soon I had ideas other than stroking his manhood. I looked around, the coast was clear, and soon he pushed me toward the ground where I positioned myself in front of him on my knees. Moving him toward me just I little to position him somewhat better,

I looked up at the man and smiled, but was taken aback by the sort of embarrassed look on his face. "What is it, Mr. Little, is the coast clear?"

"Uh, yes," he stammered.

Guessing he was just a little bit nervous, I decided to speed things up. I unhooked his belt, opened his trousers and slipped his semi-hard cock out of the slit in his boxers. I might not be able to solve all the world's problems, but getting a semi-hard dick to full rigidity isn't one I have difficulty with.

I took hold of his cock and stroked it a couple times before bending my head forward, opening my mouth, slithering out my tongue and licking the base of his dick. The cock twitched a little as my tongue made its way up the shaft, as I savored the taste. Savored, until the taste settled onto my mouth's buds. At first, I didn't know what the taste was. It was musky, more pungent than sweat.

It was pussy.

My head lifted off the cock in a flash and I looked up at my former boss. His look was priceless. Soon he spilled the beans.

"I got home from my appointment as she was in her underwear getting dressed for her appointment, and one thing led to another," he admitted. "I don't know what it was, but, well, we were doing it right there in the bathroom."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I mean, he was married, we didn't have any official arrangement other than the clandestine meetings we'd been having. I knew he screwed his wife from time to time, but doing her within an hour or so of me sucking his cock was pushed the limit of something or other. I mean, he at least could have washed it off.

"Oh Robyn, I fucked her, but I was thinking of you. I wanted your mouth on my cock. I need your mouth on my cock..."

What's a girl to do?

My mind though of his screwing Mary, then I though of how good his cock felt in my mouth. In a baseball feel dugout. In a dugout where quite possibly my friend Debbie fellated and banged a football star. The heat of this moment won out, and soon my lips were again open and Mr. Little was gently rocking forward into the tight cavern known as my mouth.

As my head bobbed I thought of his fucking his wife. My guess is he took her over the counter, and that thought send a good set of shivers up my spine. He had fucked her, shot his load in her cunt, yet now he was rocking inside my mouth receiving a lip bath like no other.

"Geez that's good Robyn," said the man, his dick hard but not rock solid as not even my expertise in fellatio could totally excite the middle-aged man this soon after busting his nut. Still, his comments excited me.

I alternated stroking his cock from the base with a series of licks and sucks on the tip. Mr. Little always loved the dual attention I gave him, and while I could tell he wasn't close to cumming I knew from his groans and gasps that the sensations were superb. The man loved having his cock sucked, and doing it where we were merely added more excitement to the naughty act.

Again I realized that while I was exciting and pleasing him, his recent orgasm with Mary made it difficult for me to satisfy him quickly.

Soon Mr. Little lifted my face off his cock, instructing me to kneel on the dugout bench next to him. I smiled as I rearranged my posterior, thinking that this was the position we used when I gave him head in the front seat of his car. He loved it because not only did I perform mouth magic on his dick, but also because he could reach over and feel my ass. While he really loved me sucking his cock, I think he went wild with me sucking on him while his hands roved around my butt.

Mr. Little lifted my skirt and alternated his play between my ass, my thighs, and the top of my stockings, moaning all the time. He circled his finger on the nylon on my panties, slipping his finger up and down my ass crack and then grabbing a handful of butt. He tucked my skirt into the back of my French cut panties to allow easier access as he fondled my posterior.

Soon he was moving quickly in my mouth and I gave up any idea of licking the fuck stick. I jerked his dick off in time with the bouncing up and down with my head. Reaching around with my other hand I snaked a finger toward his butt. When I hit his anus I knew I had him, as he groaned and shook, placing a hand on the back of my head.

I don't know why, maybe it's because I heard something, but at this point I looked up only to come face-to-cock-to face with a man walking his dog some 30 yards away near home plate. I attempted to lift my head off Mr. Little's cock but it was securely held in place by his meaty hand. My groans of warning were mistaken for ecstasy.

There I was, cock in my mouth, one of Mr. Little's hands on my head and the other fingering my ass. All in front of a voyeur who wasn't about to turn away.

"Oh my God I'm cumming," cried Mr. Little, jettisoning his cock and firing a hearty, tasty load of sticky juice into my waiting mouth. I swallowed what I could but still couldn't contain his entire load, surprising in that he'd already cum in his wife that morning.

I looked toward home plate and saw the man still watching, bouncing my head up and down the shriveling cock for show. As it was we were caught in the act, but the walker didn't seem to mind so why not give him more of what he obviously liked.

Mr. Little lifted his hand off my head but continued playing with my ass, savoring the sensations of the suck off. He mumbled something about being so glad I was his "girl" before quickly changing his tune and pushing me away. "Geez there's someone watching us," he exclaimed, attempting to close his zipper and standing up at the same time.

I stood as well, hiding behind my former boss.

Our observer began clapping his hands together, yelling over that we were quite the scene, before turning and walking away. Mr. Little and I embraced, shaking at the realization of being caught in the act.

"That was a close one," I said with a smile. "I thought you were our lookout. You failed at that task Mr. Little."

My former boss stammered something about being sorry as we began our walk to the car. I noticed the man, now walking back toward us from the outfield, staring at us. It was about that time I felt a breeze on my behind, and realized my skirt was tucked into my panties in the back.

I think Mr. Little knew that all along.