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Seducing My Married Boss

I began working for Jacob two months ago. I’m sure my low-cut blouse during the interview didn’t hurt my chances, but neither did my five years of secretarial experience nor my blistering fast typing speed. But who’s kidding who, he’s a man’s man, and his eyes wandered a bit lower than mine while he asked me boring interview questions. I was fine with it. He was hot. He wasn’t cute. Boys are cute. He was a man. I like men. But it wasn’t like that. He was very professional, other than glancing at my cleavage more than a few times, but hey, that’s why I wore the magic push up bra. It made my B’s look like almost C’s. And they are perky enough, but hey, a little help from VS never hurts!

He never made a direct pass at me, unlike other employers in the past. He was nice, genuine, and caring. He respected me, and that’s a lot of a man of his power. I’ve worked this job, a secretary or executive assistant, for many years. Sometimes for guys like Jacob, and sometimes for complete assholes who think they can harass me. I don’t mind a little flirting, but have some tact, some tastefulness. All girls like to be flirted with, just know what the fuck you’re doing. Jacob was not an asshole. And, to be honest, he didn’t flirt with me — that much. He was happily married. Or so I thought. We had never really talked about anything other than work. That is, until yesterday.

It was Friday, the end of the week, and the prelude to a 3-day weekend. Most everyone was gone already, as they usually were on Friday, but especially on the eve of a holiday weekend. I had no plans. None of importance anyway. I noticed the last of the salespersons to leave as I was cleaning up the coffee station. I was done with all the tasks for the day and decided to take Jacob his 4 o’clock cup of coffee. It was casual Friday, but I was still in a black skirt and white blouse. The skirt a little shorter than normal, not of the pencil variety, about half inch above fingertip length. I was hoping he would tell me to start my weekend early. It was common for him to do so if everything was done, and it seemed to be.

“Thank you so much, Bella,” he smiled as I entered his office. He was in his red leather chair that he filled out quite nicely behind hundred-year-old mahogany. His tie was off, and his suit jacket was on the rack in the corner. He looked frazzled. Casual Friday for him as well it appeared. Not really. He just appeared really stressed.

“No problem, Jacob,” I grinned. I loved the way his top two buttons was undone. I was so used to seeing him in strict business attire. “Big plans for the weekend?”

“Yeah right,” he grumbled with a sad pathetic groan.

“Everything okay?” I asked. “You seem a bit, troubled, or out of sorts.”

“Not really. I would rather be at work than home lately. My life is just, well, kind of dull. And my wife,” he rolled his eyes, “she just seems disinterested in anything.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, I wish I could help,” I flashed an infectious smile and walked around to him. I wasn’t sure what I was even doing, but this poor guy seemed distraught. “I’m here to lend an ear.”

“Thanks,” he said. “That means so much. I just need someone to vent. My wife, Darlene, is just, well, I hate to say this, I mean, we have always been strictly professional, but my sex life sucks. She is such a bore in bed, and this is probably way too much information, but I’m just sick of it. Everyone loves 3-day weekends, and for me it’s just another day for being lonely but not alone. I would rather come to work than to sit at home and just be reminded of how sexless my marriage has become.”

He exhaled, and I was taken aback. Two months of talking about strictly business, and now I have a window into his sex life. Or rather lack of one. I’m a fixer. It’s what I do, and I need to fix him. After all, he gave me this job when he had plenty of other applicants, it was my turn to return the favor. The least I could do was listen to his woes.

“That sucks,” I remember saying as I walked around his desk. “You deserve better. You deserve so much.” I remember touching his hand and then moving around his chair. I put my hands on his shoulders and rubbed them.

“That feels so good,” he said. And then he continued about his marriage. About Darlene being a bore. About how she hadn’t given him a blowjob in over a year. About how just not there she is when he fucks her. Poor guy. I spun the chair around and straddled him. I don’t know what happened, but I Just leaned in and kissed him. Ten seconds later he had me bent over his desk, one hand on the back of my neck and the other jerking the black silk from under my skirt. I didn’t mind. So authoritative. So manly. So wet it made me!

“Tell me to stop,” he said.

“Never.” I replied. “Take it all out on me. All of it.”

I got more than I bargained for and loved every second. I heard his belt unbuckle and then he grabbed a fistful of my hair and turned me around. I knew what he wanted. I slid off the table and onto my knees. I unbuttoned the top few buttons of my blouse while he pushed down his pants. The bulge in his boxers was enormous, and I immediately released him from his cotton prison. His cock gave resistance but finally buckled. It bounced like a springboard and then stayed parallel to the floor, begging to be sucked. I wasted no time. I wrapped my lips around it and sucked until my pink lipstick wore off. I used my hands only to fondle his balls while my head bobbed back and forth. The sounds he made turned me on so much. My pussy ached for him. I sucked him until he brought me to my feet. “How do you want it,” he groaned.

“However the fuck you want,” I replied. “Just get inside me!”

He kissed me and set me up on his desk. He peeled away my blouse and I reached behind my back to unhook my bra. It took him two seconds to get the white lace off me and toss it to the floor. He picked me up, my tiny frame is just over 110 pounds, and carted me to the sofa. The leather sofa that so many clients have sat on. He got on top of me, and it felt so fucking good when he parted my lips. My boyfriend was coming over later, but I didn’t care. I think I wanted him the day he interviewed me. I moaned as he entered me and arched my back. The way he squeezed my tits with one hand and wrapped the other around my neck was orgasmic. After he continuously pounded my pussy, I put my hands on his shoulder and motioned him to spin us around. I wanted to ride him. I love being on top. He leaned back on the leather while I straddled him. He took the tiny pink pebbles that dotted my flesh in his mouth while I bounced up and down.

“You are so much hotter than my wife,” he moaned as I continued to ride him.

“Good,” I exclaimed. “You deserve so much better.”

He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. I felt him begin to shake and knew he was close. He didn’t have to ask.

“Cum inside me,” I screamed. “Fucking give it to me.” I was already cumming all over his cock and knew he was about to fill me up. He groaned the manliest sound I’ve ever heard as he exploded. His warm cum filled me to depths I didn’t know I had. He continued to thrust until every last drop inside me. Finally, he stopped.

“Fuck I needed that,” he whispered. “But maybe we shuh..”

I cut him off. “Who cares. We are grown adults. We both wanted it. And your bore of a wife at home deserves it. Fuck her.”

“You’re a naughty minx. Who would have thought?” he sighed.

I got off him and winked as I smiled. I bent over and found my panties. My skirt was still on, he never bothered removing it. I put my bra back on and buttoned up my blouse as he dressed himself. I took the black silk that was in my hand, and instead of sliding it underneath my skirt, I folded it neatly and placed it in his coat pocket.

“A little something to get you through the weekend,” I whispered as I pecked him on the cheek. I turned and walked away, leaving the door open on my way out.

Ten minutes later my phone dinged. I opened the message. That was amazing. I must see you again. I smiled and contemplated my reply as I drove home.

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