Countinued From, The Boss And I
“Zainab?” The sound of my name brought my head up with a jerk. I looked up – into cold brown eyes, staring down at me.
She looked at me and I looked at her, and it was crystal clear that neither of us knew what the hell to say.
“We got the account,” she said finally.
I managed a smile that I’m sure was downright ghastly from the other side. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
She nodded slowly. “I’m…going home for the day – I think I need a little vacation.” She looked around uncomfortably – it was the first time I can ever remember having seen her looking awkward. “Finish up the paperwork for the week while I’m gone…I’ll see you on Monday.”
I tried my best not to let my chin hit the desk. I wasn’t fired? “Of course,” I finally stammered. “Have a good vacation.”
I wasn’t deluding myself – she wasn’t inviting me to keep doing anything, she was just a decent enough person not to fire me for trying to help, no matter how inappropriate what I had done had been. By the time she came back on Monday, I had beaten myself up enough over the whole thing to be committed to acting as though it had never happened, and Cleo seemed to want to pretend the same. That was fine with me. I never wanted to feel that awful sinking feeling again – that feeling that you’ve just totally screwed up your life.
Nevertheless, life went more or less back to normal after that. Our interactions were polite and professional, and we slowly lost the awkwardness around each other, moving back to where we could smile and make small talk without feeling like fools.
Eventually, I convinced myself that Cleo had practically forgotten all about it. I, of course, had not. She now featured prominently in my fantasies, no matter how hard I tried to change that. I had never really been attracted to an older woman before, though Cleo hardly looked forty. I’m sure the danger of the whole occurrence helped with the eroticism of it for me, but I just couldn’t help myself. Every night, I writhed on my own fingers, tasting and smelling and feeling Cleo against my lips, again and again.
“Zainab?” Her voice sounded urgent.
I rose from my desk, hurrying into Cleo’s office.
She looked up, muting her phone. “Did we ever hear back from that appraiser guy? I need his figures.”
“I don’t think so,” I answered, “let me check the mail files again.” I rushed out and down the hall to the mail desk, checking out box, but there was nothing new. I headed back to Cleo’s office.
“No, I’m telling you,” she was saying angrily into her phone, “she can’t sign the settlement until the appraiser confirms those numbers. I’m not going to advise anyone to sign it blind, and neither are her lawyers.” She looked up at me hopefully, but I shook my head. She gritted her teeth, mouthing several things she couldn’t say aloud.
“No,” she said again into the phone, “you’re not listening to me…we can’t…yes…no…well, that might be possible. Will he agree to that?” Then her eyes widened. “On their way? You can’t be serious. I can’t advise…”
I waited attentively, in case she needed anything else. I found my eyes drifting to the chair behind her where she stood at her desk, the memories burning through my brain.
Suddenly I realized she was signaling to me. I straightened.
“Yes,” she was saying, “we can be ready by then. Our conference room will be fine. No, it’s their call whether or not to call in the client. Yes. Fine.” She hung up, growling in annoyance.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“The buffoon wants to change the deal,” she sighed, plopping down into her chair and rubbing her forehead. “They put together a new agreement, they want my opinion of it, and they’re already on their way – we’re meeting downstairs in ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes?” I said, taken aback.
“I know, damn it,” she growled. “I hate last minute meetings.”
“Will you be ready?” I asked. Dimly, some part of my brain sensed an opportunity. “The client will be there, it sounded like.”
“Yes,” she said, suddenly worried. “They’re coming along – and they weren’t too happy the last time.”
I smiled a little nervously. “Do you have everything you need?”
She sighs, leaning her head back in her chair, obviously displeased. “More or less.”
Something in my brain told me that it was now or never, and I couldn’t stop myself. Not looking at her, I stepped around the desk and took the arm of her chair, swiveling it toward me. She stared at me in surprise as I knelt down, gripping her wrists where they laid on the armrests, and held them down.
Still unable to look up at her, I leaned in, my head pushing her skirt up.
“Are you crazy?” She gasped. “Zainab, I can’t…”
Again dimly, some part of my brain registered only that she did not tell me to stop. Before she could say anything else, my lips were nibbling on her through her panties, my warm breath washing over her. I heard her gasp, her arms flexing under my grip as she tried to squirm away, but I was past rational thought. Holding her wrists firmly, I gave her panty-covered pussy a long, firm lick, and then another, feeling her soft outer lips opening under my tongue, which wriggled, seeking out the spot within that I hoped would obliterate her resistance.
“Zainab,” she gasped again, “please, you can’t…” She cut off with a surprised little noise as my tongue found her clit, lashing it through the material, and she shuddered deeply, her arms relaxing momentarily – just long enough for me to release one of her arms, pull her panties aside, and burrow my tongue into the pussy that I had been dreaming about for weeks. I immediately lost myself in the sweet, silky velvet of her slit under my tongue, the heat of the opening into her body, and the way she trembled as my tongue eagerly explored her soft folds.
“It’s okay,” I lifted my tongue long enough to murmur, and before she could respond, lashed my tongue over her bare clit, feeling the now-erect little nub under my tongue. The moment I felt it, I let my tongue flutter, knowing exactly what that sensation feels like, knowing that no woman I’d ever met can pull away from anything that feels that good. Whatever Cleo had been about to say was lost in a choked gasp as she wriggled nearly off the chair, her body squirming wildly. I chanced a look up at her now, and reveled in the chest heaving with anxious, excited breaths, the wide eyes once again staring upwards at the ceiling.
My tongue slowed, giving her gentle, luxurious licks, I felt her shudder again…and her eyes drifted closed. I exulted, my own arousal throbbing within me as I burrowed my tongue deeper, swirling it lightly around her clit and then dipping it inside her, holding in a moan as her sweet tangy flavour coated my tongue. Her body relaxed slightly. I didn’t know whether she had stopped struggling out of arousal, or just thought it was pointless, or whether she was just that desperate to cym before her meeting. I didn’t know – and at this point, I didn’t care.
I ran my tongue from the top of her slit to the bottom, rubbing it from side to side, exploring every little nook and cranny of her pussy, finding sensitive spots aplenty to judge by her shaky breathing and little gasps of pleasure. I knew that I could do this forever, if she allowed it – but I also knew I had a time limit. I let my tongue slide deep inside her, almost moaning again at the heady flavour of her, her scent filling my head and my mind, and then swirled my now-slippery tongue over her clit, slowly accelerating the motion. My lips gently sucked the little bead into my mouth as my tongue vibrated on the tip, and I felt her hips lift off the chair before she jerked, grunting softly and gasping for breath.
Her hips jerked several times, twitching, and I drank deeply of her nectar, my eyes closed and my hands only resting on her arms. Finally, she relaxed with a deep shudder, her body going totally limp, her breathing suddenly deep and laboured.
I gently licked her clean, easing her panties back into place, and sat back, licking my lips clean, my eyes own wide with a kind of shock that I had actually gotten the chance to taste her again. My legs were actually trembling, and I knew that if I so much as grazed my own pussy right then, I would cum too. I rose slowly to my feet, my eyes lingering on her splayed, relaxed body.
“I’ll call down to the conference room that you’re on your way,” I said slowly, my voice a little hoarse, and turned to leave her office.
“Zainab,” I heard her say slowly, and I stopped, hearing no anger in her tone.
“You didn’t think…I expected that, did you?” I couldn’t identify her tone.
I slowly turned around, meeting her eyes with an effort. “No. I thought that you needed it. I was just…” I swallowed. “Doing what I thought would help the most.”
Cleo just stared at me, and I finally turned and left her office. I sat down at my desk and bent over some work, shading my eyes with one hand. She walked past my desk a few minutes later without a word, on her way to the meeting.
Later that day, to my surprise, Cleo came and talked with me about the meeting as though nothing had happened, and she seemed determined to pretend that it had not – though her question had left me wondering how she really felt. I knew that she had enjoyed it – and now, I wondered if she had protested because she had not wanted me to do it, or if she had protested because she thought I felt obligated to pleasure her. I desperately feared the first – I longed to prove her wrong on the second.
“Zainab,” she said to me a few days later as she arrived, “pull all the files on the Century account for me – I’m meeting with them at noon.”
My heart skipped a beat or two, but I just nodded. “No problem.” I followed her into her office, found the files, and left them on her desk. She nodded thanks, still unpacking her laptop and chugging her coffee, and I headed back to my desk.
The morning proceeded as usual – I answered a few calls, ordered her lunch to be sent up after the meeting was over, all the normal things an administrative assistant does. Then, at about twenty minutes to noon, I heard her hang up her phone, and she poked her head out the door.
“Hey, Zainab, call me when the clients get here, all right?”
“Sure,” I replied, watching her close her office door. My heart accelerated about three times over.
I had a dilemma here. I could keep trying to surprise her, but sooner or later, she was going to react badly to that. I could never mention it again – but I couldn’t even bear to think of that. She was all I could think about.
I knew that she wouldn’t be…relaxing…until about five or ten minutes before the meeting. I figured I could take one shot…make some kind of indirect offer. If my…help…were unwelcome, then no doubt she’d still want to have given me a definitive “stop” at some point. This would give her an opportunity to do that, and then we could go back to being boss-employee. If it wasn’t unwelcome…
I rose from behind my desk, walked to the door, and considered knocking, but then just opened it, slipping inside and closing the door behind me before turning to her. She looked up in surprise – she hadn’t been doing anything yet, apparently flipping through a few notes before the meeting. I locked my eyes on hers – those beautiful brown eyes – and put everything on the line.
“Aren’t you going to turn your chair to the side?” I asked softly.
She stared at me, her mouth open to speak, and she closed it slowly. “Zainab…”
I stepped forward to her desk, keeping my eyes on hers. “Just turn your chair, Cleo. Let me help.”
She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Zainab, look…I’m not…”
I licked my lips, and she stopped talking. My heart leapt again. “All you have to do,” I said even more slowly, in a voice barely above a whisper, “is turn your chair. It’s okay.”
She stared back at me, suddenly biting her lip in an uncharacteristic gesture of uncertainty. I stepped around the edge of her desk, and her head turned to follow me. I noticed that the collar of her blouse was rising and falling a little rapidly. The rest of her turned to follow me, and I stepped closer, keeping my eyes on hers. To be honest, I couldn’t look away. The mix of emotions I saw in her eyes confused, frightened, and intrigued me, but I just couldn’t look away.
I knelt down, and gently raised her leg on to her desk, holding her gaze, leaning forward, waiting for the definitive sign.
Finally, I got it. She watched me expressionlessly for a long moment, and then slowly closed her eyes, leaning her head back.
I almost whimpered with excitement and relief, and slid closer between her legs. I reached up to grasp the band of her panties – a set just like the lacy pair I once found under her desk – and helped her lift her hips to slide them gently down, noting the tremble in her legs as I did so.
I think both of us were holding our breaths when my mouth settled on her again – she let out a long sigh, and I could not help a soft moan.
She was very quiet as my tongue explored her all over again – she did not moan or whimper, but I was able to read her reactions from the little gasps and tiny sighs she gave. I searched with relish and found with glee the spots that made her tremble, the spots that made her gasp, and the ones that made her draw in her breath as though to moan for more.
I felt her shudder when my tongue slid inside her velvety, slick pussy, and I settled my mouth on her fully, my lips teasing and caressing her slit as my tongue delved deeper still, seeking the taste to which I was already hopelessly addicted.
I started gently stroking my tongue in and out of her, letting it swirl against her opening each time I pushed it in, feeling her slick channel grip it each time I withdrew. My lips slurped softly at her, coaxing more and more nectar onto my tongue. As my tongue thrust achingly in and out, I realized that she was gripping the arms of her chair, almost hard enough to make her knuckles pale. Her free leg, the one not raised onto her desk, was twitching slightly, her silky thigh brushing my cheek. I couldn’t help leaning my face into it a little, and digging my tongue even deeper to make that leg quiver.
I was detecting now what I had hoped to hear – not just pleasure, but surprise. Surprise at some of what I was doing. I wanted to shake my head in dismay. This was a woman who badly needed to meet someone who really knew how to eat her – and I would be happy to show her what one woman can do to another.
I slowly drew my tongue out of her, let it teasingly drift up over her clit, and then softly fastened my lips around it, drawing it lightly into my mouth and pressing my tongue against it.
She gasped loudly. “Oh, god,” I heard her whisper very softly as her hips jerked.
I sucked her gently, tantalizing the sensitive bud, then begin stroking it with my tongue, up and down, side to side, then in continuous, swirling circles that brought her slowly but surely to orgasm, opening my mouth wide as I felt her arch up and stiffen so that I could taste her fully. My tongue stroked her creamy slit as she shuddered and twitched, and dipped into her as she relaxed to retrieve as much of her sweetness as I could.
She finally went limp, breathing fast and light. I sat back again, gently sliding her panties back on. As I did, I very lightly kissed her thigh, but I don’t think she even noticed, lost in the haze of her orgasm.
She sat up slowly, still breathing fast, and looked at me, wide-eyed.
I smiled, knowing what I had to say. “Anything else you need before your meeting?”
Cleo stared at me, took a deep breath, and managed a shaky smile in return. “No, that will be all, Zainab. Thank you.”
I left her office, my heart thumping. I was in way over my head, but there was no way I was stopping now.
From then on, our work routine was somewhat changed. Work in general was the same, certainly, but each time Cleo had a meeting, I would go into her office a half hour or so ahead of the scheduled time. The first few times, she tried protesting, but her protests never lasted, and within a minute or two, I would have her trembling under my tongue.
I noticed, though, that she still did not moan or cry out at any time, and she did her best to stay still, barely reacting to most of my attentions, her body showing her pleasure often only at orgasm. I think, somewhere deep down, she convinced herself that it was all right to essentially use an employee’s tongue in this way if that’s all it was – her assistant helping her relax before big meetings. While I certainly loved doing what I was doing – there were times that I felt I could almost cum just from licking her, especially when I felt her tense up and release onto my tongue – I wanted more and more of her. I continued, somehow, to deny my growing feelings for her, but I determined that I was going to pleasure her to the greatest possible extent, not just be a disembodied tongue.
The next time that I was “helping” her, as I slowly slid my tongue up and down her moist slit, listening to her soft, even breathing and little gasps each time I passed over her clit, I made sure she was close to orgasm, trembling, her legs tense. Then I touched her with my hands for the first time, lightly running my fingertips up the insides of her thighs. I was rewarded with a startled gasp. I was dimly aware that she had raised her head at the contact, but I just flattened my palms on her thighs, massaging her warm, silky flesh as my tongue burrowed deeper, and drove her to orgasm before she could react in any particular way to my touch.
When I finished, I gave no indication that I had done anything different.
I progressed slowly thereafter, starting with caressing her thighs and hips while I pleasured her, and gradually progressing to holding her hips while I made love to her pussy with my mouth. After the first time or two, it even seemed that she was anticipating the touches – when I would touch her, she would always react, with a little gasp or a little shiver or an increase in her breathing. If I only touched her when she was already close to cumming, it would set her off almost immediately.
Sometimes, as I ate her, I was amazed at what we had and hadn’t done. I had never touched her above the waist – I had never even seen her close to naked. I had not fingered her at all, nor touched her ass. I had made her cum, jerking and twitching against my tongue, many times, but had never kissed her.
Finally, one day while I was happily burrowed between her smooth thighs and her head was slowly rolling side to side, her breath coming in pleasured little gasps, I caressed her hips, feeling her shudder with the added arousal, but then I backed off, my tongue barely touching her. At first, she just relaxed, but then I dove in again, caressing her hips as my tongue slid deep – to which she reacted with something almost like a whimper – and then backing off again. This time, I got the reaction I wanted. She lifted her hips slightly, instinctively seeking the source of her pleasure, arching her hips out in need. I immediately rewarded her by drawing her clit into my mouth and slurping it slowly, achingly, letting her shudder, her hips lifted off the chair.
The moment she started to relax, I backed off again, and made her reach for me, or would press my tongue against her but not move it – essentially forcing her to move and seek her own pleasure. Her arousal battled her self-control and won – within a few minutes, I had her rocking and bucking her hips against my mouth, lost in the pleasure of it. When she came, it was intense, with her hips bucking her slick, clasping pussy up and down on my tongue, almost riding it, while her breath escaped her in tiny involuntary grunts, her hands clutching the arms of her chair as I held her creamy, jerking hips.
To Be Continued My Dear Wonderful Sexy Readers…