The Boss

Such a good little housewife she was, she thought as she sorted through his clothing. She hated this particular chore, taking his suits to the cleaners. Drop off on Thursday, pick up on Monday. Week in, week out. He was very fastidious, always cleaning out his pockets, always folding the pants over the hangers, the jackets lined up just so.  Sometimes it made her nuts.

Couldn’t he for once just drop his pants over the back of the chair like other men did?

She sighed, annoyed with herself. Hell, she remembered how messy things got when her brothers were home. She did NOT want to go back to those days, but Greg was just so anal about some things.  Out of habit, she swept through his pockets. Something crinkled against her fingers.

A receipt from the 5-Star hotel downtown, luncheon for two. She blinked at the cost. Hell of a client meal, she thought. Oysters on the half-shell, veal scallopini,  my goodness, a lovely Cabernet to boot. She tossed it on his desk, where it landed with a flutter,  upside down. A dash of pink on the back caught her eye. It was the edge of a kiss in pink lipstick.

Thanks B, V

The writing was very feminine. She knew his secretary, Vivienne called him Boss. He wouldn’t have taken Viv out for a luncheon like this unless something was going on there. She’d suspected for months. That fucking bastard.

That fucking bastard!

Fuming, she threw his jacket in a crumpled heap on the bed. She saw red for a moment. Viv was at least 10 years younger than her, with an impressive body. She was petite, which only accentuated her curves.

That cunt.

That fucking cunt.

She found herself downstairs, purse and keys in hand without clearly remembering how she’d gotten there. In a moment she was in her car, and it felt like seconds later that she arrived at his office.

She was too upset to wait for the notoriously slow elevator, so she dashed up the stairs. In her adrenaline -heightened state even this seemed effortless.

She stepped into his outer office. Vivienne’s desk was vacant, but the sound of her voice came from behind his closed door. She whipped it open, expecting to see him fucking her.

Her pent-up energy threw her into the room. What she saw had her stopping as if running into a brick wall. She’d expected sex. She’d expected a half-naked secretary bent over Greg’s desk, expected a view of her bounteous tits as she hurtled herself into the room.

She did not expect to see Vivienne slapping Greg’s bound cock with a clear stick that she recognized with horror as coming from the Venetian blinds. His lavender silk tie bound his wrists behind his back, and his eyes were squeezed tight in pain.

Vivienne cocked her head at Stacy.

“Open your eyes, fucktoy, and greet your lovely wife,” she ordered, her voice crisp.

“Stacy, come in and close the door now.”

Somehow she obeyed. She noted that Viv had long black satin gloves on, the only deviation from her normal clothing. Her soft pink blouse was tucked into her black pencil skirt, her sensible black heels were not too high, nor too flat. Her hair was coiled neatly upon the crown of her hair in a loose chignon, and her make up was demure. Yet, there was no mistaking who was in charge here.

She swallowed, hard. Her husbands prick was hard and oozing precum. She could see it throbbing, bobbing a bit. There was a glazed look in his eye.

“Hi honey,” he said, his voice devoid of embarrassment. His attention returned immediately to Vivienne. “Thank you Mistress.”

She whacked his dick again, making him moan. Stacy gasped. She had never seen a man get his cock whacked before.

“Why…?” she stuttered.

“Because we like it, don’t we boy?” she spoke with a slightly mocking tone to both of them. He nodded his head.

“Tell me boy, will you fuck your wife in front of me if I tell you to?”

He nodded again.

“And if she fights, will you hold her down and fuck her anyway, because I told you to?”

He nodded. There was a flash of what could have been eagerness on his face for a moment, and then it was gone, replaced by the slavish look of adoration as he looked at Vivienne.

She took a step back, wishing for all the world that she’d never come here. Never found this  out. She was shocked to her core. She was also deeply embarrassed to feel her pussy clenching with a sudden tingle of pleasure. It was like one of those strange and kinky websites she’d seen on occasion, only this was live. And it was happening to her.

“Oh, no, little one, don’t go. I think we’ll all have a lovely little time together this afternoon, won’t we? In fact, I think we should close the office for the rest of the day and head over to your house and all get better acquainted, don’t you, boy?”

At his eager nod, she laughed a throaty laugh. It was unabashedly sexual.

“I will take little wifeypoo home in her car, and you take your car home.  She can fix us a nibble to eat, and then, well, we’ll just have to see what develops between us, won’t we?”