She’s the Boss
Lisa was frying breakfast when her husband Rick came down the stairs and into the kitchen, straightening his tie. He came over and kissed her neck as she flopped his eggs and toast into a plate, and she turned and kissed him on the lips.
“Breakfast is served, sweetie.”
“It’s you I’m hungry for,” he said, grinning and reaching around to playfully grasp her bottom. She smiled back and said, “When you get home from work, honey. There’s only so much of me.”
Lisa was beautiful, with red hair, green eyes, and even at the breakfast table, red lipstick. Rick liked that she took such care about her appearance. She wore a yellow dress that showed off her figure and her cleavage, and an apron, tied tight around her narrow waist.
He ate breakfast, put on his coat and drove out of the driveway, waving to Lisa. Once he was out of view, she turned away from the window, and bit her lip with excitement. She took off her apron and hung it on the hook in the kitchen. Then she put on her coat. She went outside, got into her car, and drove out, taking a different route than her husband would take. She drove to a long-term parking lot on the edge of town, near the airport. Deep in the lot, after passing hundreds of car, she parked her sedan next to a large black SUV. It had tinted windows and was hard to see inside of. She glanced around the lot, squinting, to see if anyone was watching. Confident that no-one was, she climbed inside.
The back seat was huge, big enough to move around easily. She took off her dress, then stripped naked, laying her underwear nearly in a pile on the seat next to her. Then she began tugging at the skin around her neck. Soon, she found a seam, and began to pull. With a sound of rubber sliding on rubber, she pulled her skin back, and got her other hand under the rubber as well, and soon Lisa had pulled off her face — revealing it to be a mask. There was a man underneath. He pulled at the skin at his chest and it came off as well, revealing that Lisa’s breasts weren’t real, just perfectly realistic rubber that looked just like skin, over rubber breast prosthetics glued to the man’s chest. He pulled those off as well, then moved down, removing the rest of the rubber bodysuit, pulling his penis from where it had been hidden underneath and behind Lisa’s false vagina.
Soon, the man was completely free of the disguise. He laid the rubber suit and the prosthetics on the seat next to him, then pulled out a suitcase and began dressing. First a pair of underwear, an undershirt, black pants, and a suit and tie.
He climbed into the front seat of the SUV, started the engine, and drove to an office building. He smiled as he saw Rick’s car in the parking lot. He drove past it and parked in a space near the entrance marked ‘Reserved — James Samson, CFO.’ He got out and entered the building. Other employees had to swipe a card to get in, but Mr. Samson simply nodded to the security guard at the front desk, who recognized him and manually unlocked the gate that allowed entry into the building.
Mr. Samson went to the elevator, rode it to the 10th floor — the Accounts department. The elevator doors opened on a large open-plan office. Dozens of people worked at desks and small shared cubicles. The perimeter of the open area were glass-walled conference rooms with privacy shades, and private offices with the owner’s name on a plaque on the door. James Samson strode around the perimeter towards his office — one of the floor’s two corner offices. A few people glanced up at him as he moved across the floor. When he caught their eye, they smiled politely. He was their boss.
Samson unlocked and entered his office and shut the door behind him. He had half an hour until the project meeting at 11:00. He took off his jacket and put it on a hanger in the office’s closet. He poured himself a small drink from the dry bar, and sat down at his desk, and spent about twenty minutes going over emails related to the meeting. Then, at 11:00, he left his office, and went down the row of doors to the conference room.
The room had eleven chairs arranged around a long conference table. Ten seats were filled by members of the project team. They had been waiting for Mr. Samson to arrive. The chair at the end of the table was empty. Mr. Samson sat down and smiled at the assembled team.
Rick was seated five chairs down on the right.
“Well, let’s get this under way, shall we? Rick, how is the project coming?”
Rick, the team leader, began, “Well, sir, the last two weeks have seen great progress…” And the meeting went on, for nearly a full hour, as Rick and the other team-members explained their work and the small setbacks, and how they’d overcome them.
“…And that’s where we are. The team agrees we are roughly on track for project completion by June of this year.”
Mr. Samson nodded and thought for a while. The pause grew longer and longer, as he looked out the window, then at each of the faces of the people around the table. Finally his gaze stopped at Rick.
“This….” Samson said. “Is shit.”
His words hung in the air. There was utter silence in the room. Nobody breathed. Then Rick, the color draining out of his face, said, “Pardon?”
“I can’t believe this. This team has had four months, and this is where you are?” He slammed his hand down on the briefing papers on the desk in front of him. “Unnacceptable. You’re all the best and brightest, and despite all the time and money this firm has invested in this project, and you all personally, this — this is not acceptable. I’m not one usually to lay blame, but,” Samson turned to face Rick. He raised his arm and pointed his index finger straight at Rick. “Richard, this is your fault.”
The color began to come back to Rick’s face. The fear was being replaced by pure anger.
“This is your project,” Samson went on, “and the failure of it to meet the deadlines we agreed on is completely your fault. You’re the team leader. You’re the man in charge. This is shit and you know it. You’ve failed behind your own targets and I don’t know that I have the faith in you that I need to have, that this is going to get finished on time.”
Rick was beet red. He said nothing, because anything he said could get him fired. He was being humiliated, in front of his teammates. People he respected. He hated James Samson more than anyone else in the world for doing it.
Samson stood up. “Next meeting in one week. If we aren’t ahead of schedule by then, we will need to have a serious conversation about this team’s ability to do the work assigned to it.” He nodded once, then left the room. He smiled. He walked down to his office, got his coat off the hanger, put it on, then left, locking the office door behind him. He walked down the hall again, past the conference room where Rick was still furious and the other teammates were embarrassed, picking up their briefing papers.
Samson took the elevator down, went outside, past the security desk, got into his enormous SUV, then backed out of the space and drove out of the parking lot. He was certain Rick was standing at the conference room window watching him leave, cursing him.
Samson drove out towards the airport, to the same parking lot where Lisa’s car was parked. He climbed into the back seat of the SUV, and stripped down out of his shirt and tie. When he was naked, he started to put on the Lisa disguise. First the toes, then the legs, making sure the padding on his ass and hips was adhered and in place. Then he re-glued the false latex breastforms to his chest, then pulled the bodysuit over his augmented physique. Finally, he pulled the mask over his head, and made sure the seams were completely hidden. After a little tugging and pulling and smoothing in a handheld mirror, the disguise was flawless. It was as if James Samson didn’t exist. Only Lisa. She reached up and brushed her red hair behind her ear, pleased at the seamlessness of her transformation.
She dressed in her underwear and her yellow floral dress. Then, she got out of the SUV and locked it, climbed into her own car, and drove out of the parking lot. She smiled as the black SUV receded into the distance in the rear-view mirror. She arrived back at home, and went to work doing her and Rick’s laundry. But first, she put back on her white apron, and tied the strings tight around her narrow waist.
She was almost finished with dinner when Rick arrived home. She could tell right away he was in a bad mood. He almost slammed the door when he came in, and was quiet and subdued during dinner.
“Honey, what’s wrong,” she asked eventually. He looked up from his dinner plate and frowned and said, some asshole at work. Really not a nice guy, seems to know exactly how to get under my skin. Seems to almost enjoy making me angry.”
“I’m sorry honey.” She paused. Her hand slid over to his. “I think I know a way of cheering you up.”
“I don’t know, sweety. It was a really long day…” Before he could finish, she was out of her chair. She knelt down beside him with her hand on his thigh. “Honey, I’ve had a long day too…” Her hand slid over towards his crotch. “And I could really use a little loving.” Her hand brushed slightly over the bulge of Rick’s cock, and she felt him twitch.
Before he could say anything, she kissed him. They were soon padding up the stairs towards the bedroom. He undressed her, and she undressed him.
She lay down on her back on the bed, and he entered her, and Lisa moaned as Rick’s cock slid up into her — into the Lisa disguise. Underneath, James Samson’s cock was rigid and excited.
“Wait, honey,” Lisa said, between her husband’s thrusts, “I want you to take me from behind.”
They changed positions, and Lisa put her fingers inside herself, re-arranging the disguise so that Rick’s penis would appear to be penetrating her vagina, but actually be thrusting into James Samson’s ass. She screamed with pleasure as Rick’s member entered her, as the tip of her husband’s cock began to rub against James Samson’s hidden prostate.
“Honey,” she gasped, “I want you to think about work. I want you to put all your energy and anger into fucking me hard.”
“What?” Rick asked, between thrusts.
“I want you to fuck me harder!” She moaned, “Harder!” This was why James Samson had made Rick so angry. Because James Samson knew his wife could goad her husband into turning that anger into raw animal rage, and fuck her harder than ever. Because Lisa loved getting fucked hard.
And Rick did, pounding himself into her, making his wife scream in delight, over and over.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/5ixxcs/mmanaldisguisebodysuit_shes_the_boss
Could you have formatted it any worse?