Massaging The Boss (MF)

Before I tell you my story, let me preface it with this. I’ve been described as calculating, methodical and shrewd. I’ve earned each of those adjectives at one point or another. This time, however, I did not begin with any ulterior motive. Sometimes fate makes things more interesting than our schemes.

It happened in Dallas on a business trip in the days before I abandoned the corporate world to pursue my creative passions. I hated these excursions to conventions and seminars. I detested the ostentatious displays of superiority as middling players did their best to appear to be among the elite. The only redeeming aspects were the free and very good food and usually opulent accommodations.

This trip was no different. After two days, I was already looking forward to the plane that would be waiting at the airport after I’d endured three more. This day was to be a little amusing, though. Snow brought the city to a near standstill. I don’t mean a snowstorm. It was what is called a “dusting” in the northern climes I’m used to. Not even enough to measure.

Yet we were informed that shuttles two and from the resort would not be running until at least that afternoon as almost all the highways were barely moving. It didn’t matter to me as I had nowhere I needed to go, but I did find it amusing watching the reports on television. I wondered what would happen if they got even an inch.

I was on the trip with my boss and her assistant. Most of the day we spent separately as we spread out to access different sessions. We typically got back together for lunch and dinner, usually a true feast with entertainment provided by a company hoping to benefit in return.

The times we’d spent together I’d mostly spent listening to flashes of bitching by my bosses assistant, Ginny. Whenever the boss was out of earshot I was treated to whatever her latest complaint was. At least it was a break from her rather constant, thinly veiled attempts at seduction. I was a couple of months from a divorce being finalized and everyone in the company new about it. I wasn’t interested in Ginny and even if I had been, her incessant whining would have been a deal breaker. Also, don’t date at work was always a rule that made sense to me.

Our boss was Alecia. She was about a year into her attempt to correct a decade of dumb decisions and mismanagement. So far, the results were promising. Things were definitely on the uptick. However, she had ruffled a few feathers in the process. Quite a few of them because she started demanding actual accountability and expecting more than minimal effort. There was a constant murmur of sedition. Threats of complaining to the board of directors. I had suggested she fire about half of them, but she was determined to bring them along on the journey.

As you can tell from the last sentence, I didn’t mind the changes she was making. I hated the laziness and ineptitude that had become a hallmark of our offices. She and I had our run ins but there was mostly a mutual respect and I believe some loyalty. She had promoted me to the top of my division and to be her second in command even though I didn’t really want to be. It happened after I chewed out an employee who was disrespecting her publicly in a staff meeting.

It wasn’t out of a sense of obligation or blind loyalty. I was the first to tell her when I though she was screwing up, bringing her to tears more than once. But I did it privately and respectfully. There is a proper way to air your grievances and publicly disrespecting someone is not it. I think these are important details for the rest of the story. As is the rest of what I knew about Alecia.

She was about 10 years older than me (around 40 at the time.) She was attractive. Her olive complexion, raven hair and deep brown eyes showcasing her mixed ethnic background. She was always impeccably dressed. Not always dressed up, but even in jeans, every thing she wore served a purpose. She knew she was beautiful and she used it to her advantage.

This, of course, led to the whispered accusations that she’d slept her way to the top. It was petty jealousy. She hadn’t. In fact, the two guys who had been instrumental in giving her the current position would have (secretly) been more interested in me than her. She’d come into the company a year after me and though we’d both moved up, she played the political games much better than I did. I hate kissing ass and placating stupid people. Which is why I couldn’t wait to get out of that world.

“Can you imagine being married to that bitch?” I’d heard that whispered behind a cubicle wall not long before.

“The ice queen.” The other voice whispered back.

I didn’t know much about her personal life. We all knew that her husband was somewhat older than her and incredibly devoted to growing his own housing development business. We’d met him and he seemed nice enough though a bit disinterested. I didn’t personally care about what happened at her house. The two busybodies who had time to whisper about such foolishness soon had more work to do.

On this “snowy” day in Dallas, the morning passed even more slowly than usual. I listened to three different “experts” drone on about things I was pretty sure they hadn’t actually been involved in for years. Finally, it was nearing lunch. I checked the schedule and saw I had a decent walk to get to the lunch location. Fortunately the crushing boredom ended a little early and I walked leisurely to the building I needed to be in. I texted the other two to see where they were.

Alecia texted they were just heading that way. I was bemused by the apparent inability of the resort staff to clear the tiny bit of snow from the sidewalks. Apparently they had no salt to put down. As people had walked on it, it had melted and then refrozen in spots. Being a veteran of traversing icy sidewalks I had little trouble making the trip. Once I arrived at the front of the building, I waited outside for the others. I was enjoying the crisp air while most everyone else was bustling past to get inside.

Finally, I saw Alecia and Ginny approaching. We waved and I waited at the steps to the front door. They offered some generic greetings as they approached and I climbed the stairs to get the door. As I held it open, they climbed the three steps. Ginny brushed past me but Alecia slipped on the top step. She spun sideways, arms flailing, purse and planner flying through the air.

She managed to grab the railing with her right hand and my reflexes were quick enough to grab her left arm. This kept her from falling completely to the ground. Her waist was contorted, twisting awkwardly in the opposite direction. I helped lift her back to her feet and she winced in pain. I picked up her things as she gingerly made her way through the door.

“Are you OK?” She was in obvious pain, standing a little crooked.

“I did something to my back,” she said, her hand pressing against her side, just below her ribs.

We made it to the lunch and found our seats. She continued to wince each time she moved. I questioned her further about where it hurt and how. It didn’t seem like it was in the spine, but most likely a muscle that was spasming.

“Ron is really good with massages and back pain,” Ginny offered up rather loudly. Under my breath I swore at my soon to be ex wife’s big mouth. Then I chastised myself for bringing her to company functions.

“If it’s a pulled muscle, a massage won’t do anything,” I said.

That ended the conversation for the moment. By the end of lunch, Alecia seemed to be moving a little better. The rest of the day was just as pointless as the morning had been. By dinner I just wanted to go back to my room and watch something stupid on television. Two more days.

We asked Alecia how she felt during dinner. She said it didn’t hurt nearly as much now, but she did still feel it when she moved certain ways. When Ginny left to visit the bathroom, Alecia asked, “Do you think you could actually help? I don’t want Ginny to know, but when it hurts, it’s pretty miserable.”

I could understand her secrecy. She knew that Ginny was talking behind her back. She didn’t want her to have anymore ammunition.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “It depends on what the problem is.”

“Are you willing to see if you can help?” she asked.

I knew if she was asking for help, she had to be in quite a bit of pain. “Sure,” I said, not really sure what I would be able to do.

“Thanks.” She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I know it’s weird. I wouldn’t ask if I knew something else to do.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said not convinced myself that the weirdness wouldn’t be insurmountable. “Put some ice on it when you get back to your room. I’ll text you before I come.” I said that last bit quickly as Ginny approached the table.

Back in my room an hour later it dawned on me that if I did give her a massage, I didn’t have any oil with me. A quick visit to the hotel shop netted me some baby oil which should do in a pinch. I returned to my room, put on the shorts and shirt I had brought to work out in and texted her to see if she still wanted me to come. I was wishing I had my table.

My phone dinged. “Yes, please.”

Not sure if what I was doing was smart, I left my room and headed down the hall, made a right and then tapped lightly on her door. Alecia answered it girded in a white robe. Her dark hair piled on top of her head. It was beginning to feel really weird.

“So, I guess we’ll use the bed?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’d rather have my table, but….” I trailed off.

“You have a table?” She seemed surprised.

“Yes. I’m pretty serious about my massages.” I could tell she was thinking that over. “I’m going to put this in some hot water,” I continued gesturing with the baby oil. “I obviously didn’t bring any massage oil, so this will have to work.”

She pointed to the bathroom, “I’ll get settled.”

I stepped into the bathroom and ran the water until it was hot. I pulled the stopper on the sink and set the bottle in, letting the water rise up around it. Normally I would have had this all prepared. I’m not a big fan of altering my process. I glanced over my shoulder toward the door.

In a full length mirror hanging on the wall opposite the door I saw Alecia’s reflection. Her back turned to me she loosened and lowered the robe revealing a pair of black boy shorts and a black bra. I quickly considered whether she was wearing the boy shorts to offer more coverage in this instance or if it was her underwear of choice. Either way, they accentuated her buttocks perfectly.

She had always had a nice shape, but I wasn’t expecting quite the perfect curvature on display before me. I looked back to the sink in case she turned around. Also because it was beginning to become full. I shut the water off. When I looked again, she was lying face down on the bed. I left the bathroom and approached her. She had covered herself from the waist to the knees with a towel.

“Before I massage anything, I want to make sure you don’t have an injury that it could make worse. Where does it hurt?”

She pointed out a place just below her rib cage that traversed part of her back and side.

“Well, there’s no bruising, so probably not a tear of anything,” I said. I wasn’t completely feigning knowledge of anatomy and injury. I had been pre-med for a couple of years. I touched the spot on her back, “Here?”

She jumped a little at the touch and indicated it was. “Does it hurt when I touch it?”

“No, it’s just kind of sore. When I turn, it hurts and feels tight.”

It did feel kind of tight beneath my fingers. “I’m not a doctor, obviously, but I think it should be OK,” I told her. “If at any point it hurts, tell me. I don’t want to do any damage.”

She said she would and I told her I was going to get the oil and a couple of towels. When I returned, I climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside her. “I’m sorry. This seems a little weird doing it like this,” I said.

“The table?” she asked.

“Yes.” I laid out one towel beside me and put the other folded on my opposite side.

“How did Ginny know about you giving massages,” she asked.

“Shit!” I thought. “She’s going to think I have something going with her.”

Out loud, I said, “Tara has a big mouth.” Tara was my wife. “I learned to do these for her and she has to tell everyone about them.” I didn’t include that Tara often liked to proffer the information that they were usually sensual massages.

“OK, I’m about ready to begin,” I told her. “All the muscles are connected, so I’ll start at the shoulders and work my way down.”

“Mmm hmmm” she hummed into the bed.

“Obviously, I can’t…”

She anticipated I was going to point out the obstruction her bra straps were presenting. “You can undo it.”

I unhooked it and she slid her arms through the straps, leaving them laying out on the bed on either side of her. How in the hell did I end up on my boss’s bed undoing her bra? This whole situation didn’t even seem like it was real.

I poured some oil in my hands and spread it over her shoulders. I began to massage the muscles in the top of her shoulders and the back of her neck. It was a little awkward from this new angle, but I figured it out pretty quickly. However, she did not feel as though she was relaxing. In fact, it might have been the opposite.

“I feel you tensing up,” I told her. “It’s not going to work if you can’t relax. Is it because this situation is so…weird?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to relax.”

“Hold on.” I got up off the bed and turned on the television. I found the Soundscapes channel and set the volume low. Climbing back on the bed, I asked, “Where are you most relaxed?”

She didn’t hesitate. “When I can get time to lay on my hammock in the backyard.”

“OK. Whenever you start to think about how weird this is or feel awkward, imagine yourself lying there on a warm afternoon. Concentrate on the music you’re hearing. It’s playing in the backyard. You can feel a warm breeze on your body.”

She chuckled, “OK. I’ll try.”

I know it sounded weird to her, but I also knew it would work. I returned to her shoulders and within a few minutes, they were soft and supple. She began to relax and her breathing became slower and deeper. More out of habit than necessity I massaged her arms down to her hands and fingers.

I worked my way back up and then started down her back. Once in a while she’d take a breath deeper than the rest and let out a sigh with a very soft moan at the beginning. As I passed between her shoulder blades she said, “You ARE really good. This is as good as the spa.”

“Thanks,” I smiled. “I try.”

Below her rib cage I began to work around to her obliques on her side careful to be gentle on the spot where she felt pain. I did feel it began to have a less tense feel beneath my fingers. As I reached her lower back I moved her towel a little just exposing the top of her boy shorts.

I could sense that she was entirely relaxed at this point. “How is the pain,” I asked.

“I don’t feel anything,” she said. “Just relaxed and amazing.”

“Good. Normally I’d do more. All these muscles connect together and relaxing one makes the next one feel better, too.”

“You can do more,” she said.

I moved on the bed to be by her feet. “OK. If anything feels too weird, just say so. I’ll stop.”

“Mmm hmm.”

I took each of her feet in my hands in turn pressing my thumbs firmly into her soles. Using softer touches between the toes and over the top of the foot. Her breathing became deeper with the exhales just a little more forceful than before. I was doing well.

From my position at her feet my view was along the length of her legs. I had seen her legs many times, though obviously not this much of them. When I said she before that she was beautiful and used it to her advantage, her legs were what she often showcased. Always classy and never too much. I had often sat in meeting with her wearing a skirt just above the knees. The shape of her calves and definition of her ankles were definitely attention grabbing. Now I was seeing them from an entirely new angle.

They were every bit as nice from the bottom up as they were framed beneath a skirt. All the way up to the point they joined her hips and disappeared beneath her underwear they were fabulous. While I looked my mind wondered to what was beneath those boy shorts. I just just barely see slightest hint of the curves they hid between her thighs. I suddenly realized what I was thinking about and tried to refocus. This was going to get me into trouble. Also, my body was beginning to give away the sensuous nature of my thoughts.

Moving up to her calves I continued to use mostly my thumbs to create the pressure needed to penetrate deep into the muscles. She lay still and quiet. Only the occasional deeper breath giving a hint of the pleasure she was deriving from my touch. I moved carefully to the back of her thighs moving slowly in case she objected. When she didn’t I massaged her deeply there, too. However, here I used a combination of thumbs and fingers.

The backs and outsides of the thighs were fairly easy to do. The inside was a little trickier. Especially as I rose higher coming closer to her groin. At this point in my life I had not massaged anyone other than my wife. I was not very experienced in taking control or the finer arts of seduction. I was, however, already a committed student of the arts of sensuality.

I managed to avoid touching her covered bits as I massaged the insides of her legs. Now closer, I began to wonder again about what lay beneath the fabric. She no longer seemed like my boss. Spending an hour with someone lying in a vulnerable state and their body in your hands tends to change the way you feel about them. She had always been attractive but now I was feeling attracted TO her.

As I finished the last little bit of her thighs, I argued with myself in my mind. Should I press the issue further? Should I say, “All done,” and wrap it up? Pressing on was definitely a risk. However, if she said to stop, how bad would it really be? I decided to compromise between the two.

“Normally,” I said quietly, “I would massage your glutes, too. They tie the legs and the back together and really kind of bring it all home. But, obviously I can skip that if you’re uncomfortable. If you want me to continue, I will. I can try to do it under your shorts but the oil will make it messy.”

I waited for her response, my palm resting on her thigh. One of the first instructions I’d read about massage said to maintain contact with your subject as much as possible. I waited in that position for what seemed like a very long time. She remained silent for so long I started to wonder if she’d fallen asleep. Twice I drew my breath ready to ask if she was awake, but stopped before saying anything.

Then she broke the silence, her voice so quiet it was barely audible. “You can take them off.”

Instantly my heart began to pound in my throat and ears. My throat went dry. It was like the first time all over again. I hooked my almost shaking fingers under the top of her shorts and she raised her hips slightly. I pulled them down to her thighs and once she had lowered herself back to the bed I slid them past her knees and over her feet.

When I looked back at her body, she seemed to be a little more closed than before. Maybe it was my imagination but it wouldn’t be surprising if she were. She was now entirely naked in front of my. When my hands touched her buttocks she tensed but then soon relaxed again as I worked on the muscles.

As I moved her body, I could see between her legs. Her sex was covered with closely trimmed, black hair. I thought I could see the evidence of her arousal glistening between her lips. Maybe I was just wishing. I worked from her thighs, over her buttocks onto her lower back. Then down her sides and over the outsides of her hips. I was quickly running out of things to massage and had to make another decision.

I decided to do circulation strokes, running my hands from her shoulders to her feet and back. Designed to force blood in and out of tissue, it’s also very relaxing. I started on the outside of her body and moved in. On the final few, I was moving down the center of her back. I let my finger trailed between her buttocks before continuing down the insides of her thighs. The contact could be perceived as incidental but probably wouldn’t be.

On the way back, I allowed my thumb to just barely brush over her pubic hair. She rose slightly to meet my touch as I passed. To me, that was acceptance of a more sensual touch. But a lesson many men could learn is that consent doesn’t mean “go all the way.” Even in my inexperienced days, I knew this.

I began to use my sensual touches. The back of the neck, various spots on the back, the back of the knees, ankles and the tops of the hips sliding around just barely to the front. The feeling in the room began to change. The air felt a little charged. Her breathing was no longer relaxed. It was coming more quickly now. I traced my fingers up the back of her thighs and along the crease between them and her buttocks.

She made no sound except for her breathing. I tracked up the inside of her thighs with my fingers, just brushing against the very outer edges of her vulva before moving past it. I repeated variations of these moves each time the touch lasting just a little longer and a little more firmly. Now she moaned softly for the first time. Almost as if she were trying to stay quiet.

When my finger found her clitoris for the first time she rotated her hips giving me better access. Within probably a minute, two at the most, she was on the edge of a climax. I squeezed her clit gently between my middle and ring finger and she came. It was a gentle orgasm. I could see the pulsing in her anus but it was not powerful. I thought she had a bigger on than that in her.

“Why don’t you turn over?” I asked her when her pleasure subsided rather quickly.

There was a pause and then she slowly turned her body over. Her face was red from being pressed against the bed. She looked at me somewhat anxiously. Her eyes seemed to be trying to find something in mine. I smiled reassuringly and she laid back and closed her eyes.

Seeing her lying completely naked in front of me immediately sent me from a semi-erect state to full sail. I tried to adjust so it wouldn’t be so obvious straining the front of my shorts. Her breasts were full but since the were real (putting to rest another ridiculous office debate) they fell to the sides a bit. Her brown nipples were beautiful and erect. Her skin was lovely from her head all the way to her perfectly manicured feet. Her pubic mound framed in that short, black hair made me want to taste her.

Instead I massaged the front of her shoulders, then down the middle of her chest to her belly. Around the front portion of her obliques and down the fronts of her thighs. I caught her in my peripheral vision watching my face closely a few times. I figured she was trying to see if I was judging her. As I moved back up her body I glanced at her and caught her watching me. Our eyes locked for a moment and she seemed to blush a little.

“Not bad for 40, right?” It didn’t sound as confident as I’m sure she meant for it to.

“Absolutely beautiful for any age,” I said.

She closed her eyes again but I saw the corners of her mouth turn up just a little. I trailed my fingers over her body stopping beneath her breasts. I lightly touched the undersides of them with my fingertips. I have found touching someone in a way that departs from the typical touch has a pronounced effect. Breasts are usually grabbed. Nipples pinched and squeezed. Rarely are the undersides touched.

I let my fingers caress her lightly there, slowly moving higher and near her nipples, though without touching. After a few moments I let the palms of my hand ever so lightly make contact with her nipples. No pressing at all, just a very light touch with my warm, oiled hands. I teased my fingers across her areolas along the sides of her nipples. I watched them protrude a littler further from her body.

Sliding my hands lower, I lightly touched her beneath her belly button. The imaginary line that ran toward her pubic mound. Then gliding my full hand across her lower abdomen above her pubic hair. My hands wandered down her thighs and then my fingers swept slowly up the insides of her legs. At the top, they brushed over the outer edges of her vulva and through her pubic hair.

I continued to use these teasing touches around the same general area, gradually opening her legs further until I had good access. I slide a finger over her clitoris and between her lips, all the way to her vaginal opening. I find copious lubrication waiting for me. She was slippery and warm. As I teased her opening with my finger she rose up a little to meet it. Kneeling beside her, I wanted to taste her so badly. Instead, as I teased I went further and further into the opening with each movement.

Eventually, my finger pressed through. I felt her heat envelope it. She gasped a little. Still moving slowly I slid it further in, giving her the chance to object at any time. When she didn’t, I found her clitoris with my thumb and rubbed it gently. With my finger I found where I expected her g-spot to be. Her breathing became rapid now. The reality of what was happening at that moment didn’t quite register.

She began to move around as her arousal grew quickly. Her hand grabbed onto my thigh and bumped against my now very hard penis. Her eyes opened wide and though I was not looking at her, I could see in my peripheral vision she was looking at her hand. She didn’t pull it away and I continued to poke into the side of it.

In that moment she began to climax, this time much harder than before. Her legs closed together tightly on my hand. She half sat up and jerked to the side, slightly facing me. I caught her in my free arm. She moaned a couple of times and then let out a sound that sounded more like anguish than pleasure. She continued to orgasm for several seconds and then fell limp in my arm. I laid her gently back to the bed.

She inhaled a deep, ragged breath. Her eyes still closed she said, “Oh my god, I needed that.”

I stayed kneeling beside her for a couple of minutes. My hands still resting on her body. As she came down off her orgasm high, she appeared to become self conscious. She pulled her robe across her chest, covering her breasts. Then she stood up and pulled it on, tying it closed and taking away the view of her body. I, too, got up from the bed. The atmosphere was getting awkward really quickly.

“How does your back feel?” I asked more out of a need to break the silence than anything.

“I don’t feel a thing, right now,” she answered.

She turned to me and hugged me, her arms around my neck. I wondered if she could fill my still, firm erection against her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I feel so amazing right now.”

When she let go, I took that as my cue to leave. I said good night and left the room. Walking back to mine, I realized I was in the hallway with a very obvious boner. I walked quickly before I ran into someone I knew. Once in my room I wondered what had just happened. It almost didn’t even seem real. “That was kind of crazy,” I thought.

While I was as horny as I had ever been, I was also incredibly tired. I took a quick shower and slipped into a different pair of shorts and a shirt for bed. Maybe in the morning I’d do something about my situation. As I toweled off my hair one final time, I heard a light tapping at my door. I opened it to find Alecia standing there in running shorts and a t-shirt. She looked like she was about to head to the workout room but instead she slid quickly into my room.

She turned to face me and said, “I didn’t properly thank you.”

“It’s, OK,” I answered. “I….”

I didn’t finish and she knelt quickly in front of my and pulled my shorts to the ground. She was nothing if not decisive when she made up her mind about something. My penis sprang free as she dropped the shorts, nearly smacking her in the face. She looked for just a moment, then took the head in her mouth. In the aroused state I was already in, I was back at peak size almost instantly.

She began to stroke me with her hand as her mouth engulfed my glans. Her tongue somehow swirled around the underside. It was an amazing sensation. That, coupled with the site of my beautiful boss sucking on me made me realize I wouldn’t be lasting very long. I felt my balls start to tighten up against my body. I wasn’t about to let this be over, yet. Besides, I had been wanting a very specific thing for a while now.

I slipped my hands beneath her shoulders and lifted her off me and to her feet. She looked perplexed, probably wondering why I had stopped her masterful performance. I didn’t let her think about it long. Grabbing her under her buttocks, I lifted her off the ground and carried her to my bed. I laid her on her back, her hips at the edge. My hands quickly pulled off her shorts revealing the familiar, trimmed hair.

From this perspective, I could see the glistening slit of skin between her lips. I was the one now dropping to my knees. I kissed the inside of her thigh. Then again and again moving closer to her moist center. Once there, I ran my tongue along the crease between her leg and her vulva. Then along her outer lips. Finally, I flicked it over her clitoris. She moaned louder then than she had the entire time we were in her room.

Then I was tasting her between her lips, all the way to her opening. The tangy taste of her fluids aroused me more. I teased her hole with my tongue, flicking it inside. I used my big nose to my advantage, rubbing it against her clit. She moaned some more. After a while, I slid my finger inside again and moved my lips and tongue to her clitoris, gently teasing it.

It wasn’t long before she came again. Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulled me harder against her. Her moisture was all over my lips and chin. As her climax subsided, I rose to my feet and leaned over her. I took a big risk and kissed her deeply. She kissed me back, just as hard. As I leaned over her, my hardness bumped into her wetness. As I kissed her, I rocked my hips slowly, dragging the tip of my cock between her lips and then back. She moaned into my mouth.

I repeated this movement several times. She broke the kiss and said, “Please!”

I pressed into her firmly but still slowly. I slid inside without much resistance. Her eyes and here mouth opened wide in surprise and pleasure. “Yes,” was all she said.

I lifted her and pulled her t-shirt over her head and unsnapped her bra for the second time that evening. Then I lifted her, and staying inside moved her fully onto the bed, her head by the pillows. Kneeling between her legs, I began to move my hips. She pulled my shirt over my head and now our fully naked bodies moved together almost as one.

I kissed her neck and shoulders. She responded by wrapping her legs around me and pulling me tightly to herself. Her arms were wrapped around my neck. There was no reticence now. She was fully engaged. This time I looked into her eyes as she came once again. I could feel her tightening around me. The whole thing was too much for me and I felt the beginning of my own climax.

Knowing I couldn’t cum inside my boss, I withdrew. She immediately grabbed my very slippery penis and stroked it. All the pent up arousal of the previous two hours was released like a dam bursting. The first ejection of semen shot all the way up her body to her throat. The rest flowed out for what seemed like a ridiculous amount of time. When it finally stopped, she was fairly covered.

I grabbed the towel I had tossed onto the bed when she knocked on the door and cleaned her off. Then spent, I dropped onto the bed beside her. She rolled onto her side and put her head on my chest and draped her leg over mine. “Do you always cum that much?”

I laughed. “No, only when I’m really turned on.”

“It’s good to know I can still have that effect on a man,” she murmured.

I thought that the world was a really jacked up place if a woman like that can doubt her allure. Regardless, I put my arm around her back and pulled her against me a little more. I was waiting for her to come back to her senses and cover up again. I understood it wasn’t anything personal. Just a weird situation.

She never did, though. When I asked if she was OK there was no response. I realized she had fallen asleep lying on me. “I did kind of wear her out,” I thought to myself, a wry smile on my face.

I decided to let her sleep for a bit and pulled the blankets over our naked bodies. There was something oddly comforting lying there with her like this. I thought for a moment about what the rest of the office would think if they knew. Of course, they couldn’t know.

Suddenly, I was aware of a chirping sound. I realized it was my phone alarm. I was bewildered and confused for a couple of seconds before I realized I had been asleep. That kind of deep sleep in which you are fully dead to the world. Had it all been a dream? I quickly realized it had not as I could feel Alecia still lying against me. I managed to find my phone and kill the alarm with moving the side of my body that she was on.

She stirred anyway. She looked up at me as I looked down at her. “I guess I fell asleep,” she said.

“We both did,” I told her.

“What time is it?”

I didn’t have to look. I knew what time I had the alarm set for. “7:15.”

“Shit! I spent the night?” She seemed alarmed for just a moment, then she said, “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

She lay there quietly against me for a while. I found her soft pubic hair scratching my leg oddly arousing. Her breasts pressed into my side were quite nice, too.

“I haven’t slept like that in a long time,” she said. “I don’t think I moved.”

“You didn’t,” I said. “Neither did I.”

“We should probably get moving,” she said. “The breakfast is at 8.”

She pushed herself up but this time made no effort to conceal her body. I looked up at her. “It only seems right that I should wash your body for you since I made such a mess on it last night.”

She smirked. “Yeah, you kind of owe me that.”

We made our way into the shower together. I made good on my offer and spread a lather over her entire body, making sure every bit was spotless. When I was finished, I couldn’t help myself. I knelt in front of her and again used my lips and tongue and fingers to bring her to orgasm.

She gave me an encore performance of her unique oral talents as well. This time, I didn’t stop her and she deftly emptied me into her mouth, letting all the evidence slide down her throat. When we left the shower and dried off, I could still taste me on her lips just a little. She slid back into her shorts and shirt. As I walked her to the door she turned and said, “Obviously….”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to. We couldn’t carry on like this. It was too dangerous. “Obviously,” I agreed.

She smiled and then she was gone. That day, she seemed lighter and happier. I was pleased, knowing I’d played a part in that. Her chipper attitude annoyed Ginny even more. I didn’t care as I was in a mood even less accepting of her bitching than I had been previously. Alecia and I perfectly hid our involvement. Not even a knowing glance in front of others.

That night, I was a little sad as I headed back to my room. It was going to possibly feel just a little lonely in there now. I settled in with one of the books I’d brought with me. I read for a while, then drifted into thinking about the amazing events of the previous evening. Eventually, I’d read some more.

As I finished the second chapter, I heard a familiar light tapping on my door. I set the book down and smiled to myself as I walked toward the door. These trips might actually start to grow on me a little.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/a6cxiq/massaging_the_boss_mf