Everybody Does It : Day Two

This is the second part of a story involving a boss and his subordinate. It would greatly help the reader to check out the first part before reading this.

Please note that like the first part, this story involves coerced sex along with dominant and submissive characters. Those not interested in such situations would probably not enjoy this story.

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The e-mail Paul Lombardo got the next day from his boss, Rawle Johnson, was short and to the point.

"My office. 4:30," was all it read, and there was no accept or decline prompt to this meeting request, because it wasn't a request, but a command. Paul was told to be there and he would be there. That was it.

Paul was happy that almost everybody was gone by the time 4:30 came along, with only a phone operator at the front desk. Paul knocked on the door and heard the gruff response from the other side telling him to enter.

Behind the desk, Rawle Johnson looked as he always did, cool, calm and collected. Unlike usually, his suit jacket was off but he was still wearing his tie. He motioned for Paul to take a seat while he finished up on the phone call he was dealing with and then turned to face his employee.

"Have a productive day today, Lombardo?" he asked, linking his long ebony fingers on the desk before reclining back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

"Yes sir," Paul said, noticing the bulging muscles in Mr. Johnson's biceps, which were usually hidden underneath his suit but were visible in the short sleeved shirt he was wearing.

"No surfing for porn, I assume?" Mr. Johnson asked and cackled when Paul shook his head no.

"Good. You know, I checked out one of those sites they caught you looking at here at work," Mr. Johnson said. "I did this at home though. Fascinating stuff, that one site. Showed a bunch of little-dicked white guys fawning all over these black dudes with snakes for cocks."

"Of course, that stuff doesn't happen in real life, does it?" Mr. Johnson said, answering his own question with a roar of laughter. "So tell me, how many times did you get yourself off last night while thinking about what went on here yesterday? Did you even make it out of the building without jacking yourself off?"

Paul looked down as he felt his embarrassment reveal itself in his blushing. It was almost as if his boss knew everything about what was going on inside his head.

"I'll bet you nailed that little wife of yours last night," Mr. Johnson suggested while Paul squirmed. "Bet you screwed her like an animal. Bet you got off good. Did you get her off too?"

He had, but Paul would not admit it and remained silent.

"Tell me. When you were fucking her last night, who were you thinking of? Her or me? You don't have to tell me. I think we both know the answer to that. Did you lock the door?"

Paul shook his head, and Mr. Johnson motioned for him to do so. When Paul turned back around Mr. Johnson was stepping out of his trousers, and after folding them neatly he slid down his boxers - red silk ones today - and turned to face Paul, his cock swinging in front of him like an elephant's trunk.

"Assume your position," Mr. Johnson said, cupping his cock backhandedly and pulling on it while Paul knelt before it. "Just lick the head of it for a while so we can talk. Skin my cock back so I can feel your tongue on the head."

Paul slid the foreskin back as instructed, exposing the plum colored head of the flaccid organ, and as his tongue slithered all over the glans, his boss quizzed him.

"You know, if I keep asking you questions and you keep not answering them, I'll begin to think you don't like me or something," Mr. Johnson said as he loosened his tie. "Seeing how I'm going to have to pull some strings to get the corporate headquarters to keep from firing your ass, you might want to talk. Now, last night, did you jerk off while thinking about yesterday?"

"Yes," Paul whispered into Mr. Johnson's cock head.

"That's better. How many times?

"Once," Paul replied, not adding the one at work with the one that he rubbed out in the middle of the night.

"I'm glad I got your juices flowing so well," Mr. Johnson chuckled. "And you had sex with the missus too?"

"Yes."

"Good boy," Mr. Johnson said, roughing up Paul's hair like he was a little kid instead of a forty year old man. "Went by your desk again and looked at that picture of your wife. Cute little thing, isn't she?"

"Yes," Paul said as he felt Mr. Johnson's cock begin to swell under his tonguing.

"Not much to her, is there?" Mr. Johnson asked. "I like my women with a little more meat on their bones usually, but she is cute, and I do love blondes. She a real blonde, your wife?

"Yes."

"What's her name?"

"Diane."

"Diane - she's a little thing alright. At least she looks like it in the picture. She's got some little titties, doesn't she?. She's almost flat-chested isn't she?"

"She's a beautiful woman and I love her with all may heart," Paul responded.

"Maybe, but if you were looking at pictures of her on the computer instead of leering at some brother's anaconda, you wouldn't be in the trouble you're in today," Rawle Johnson sneered. "Now lets talk about your little lady's tits. I asked you if she was flat-chested."

"Kinda," Paul admitted.

"You ought to buy her some implants so she looks more like a woman, but then again I'll bet you like them tiny titties, don't you? Makes her look all boyish or pubescent when she lays down and you climb on her. You and her ever swing with anybody else?"

"No," Paul said, not admitting that they had talked about it a couple of times, but Diane's modesty and misguided fears about her body would not let them do it.

"Bet you thought about it though," Mr. Johnson said. "You know what would turn me on? If she was here right now, watching you lick my cock. What would she think of that? Would it turn her on?"

"No," Paul said. "She's not like that."

"You never know, just imagine her standing there, or better yet having her put my cock in your mouth for you and work it in and out. How about that? I bet she would love it! Did you tell her about how you got to suck my cock yesterday?"

"No."

"You should. How old is she? Thirty?"

"38."

"Looks younger. How come you two don't have any kids? Don't want any?"

"No, we do," Paul said, changing his grip on the semi-flaccid cock. "It's just that - you know."

"Maybe what she need is a real man," Mr. Johnson said. "Somebody to get deep into that little pussy and plant some fertile seed into that womb of hers."

"I'm a man," Paul snapped somewhat defiantly.

"I'm going to pretend that you didn't say that and that you didn't talk to me in that tone of voice, because if I did hear that you would be looking for new teeth and a new job," Rawle Johnson said, a bunch of Paul's prematurely thinning hair clenched in his fist. "Understand?"

"I'm sorry," Paul said as he cowered under the angry glare of his boss.

"That's better," Mr. Johnson said, and then turned around and grabbed the edge of his desk. "I have to get off and get home. You know what I want now."

***

Paul didn't know what Mr. Johnson wanted, but when it was explained to him Paul shook his head in disbelief.

"I don't even know what that is!"

"The fuck you don't, Lombardo," Rawle Johnson sneered. "A pervert like you trolling the web all the time? Don't tell me you don't know what a rim job is."

"I can't," Paul complained. "I don't know how to do that."

"Learn," Mr. Johnson said, his back to Paul as he bent over slightly while he braced himself with his hands on the desk. "It wasn't a request."

Paul looked at the sight before him, which was terrifying. Mr. Johnson had his pants and briefs down around his ankles and his powerful thighs were spread wide. Between his legs, his hairless scrotum dangled freely, and then there was that enormous penis swinging lazily down halfway to his knees.

But that was not what Mr. Johnson wanted him to deal with. His request was much more graphic and involved an area that Paul had never explored on anybody, man or woman, and as Mr. Johnson spread his ass cheeks and exposed his hairless puckered ring, Paul fought back tears.

"Please," Paul begged, wanting to tell Mr. Johnson that he would gladly suck his cock every day for the rest of his life. Anything - anything but this, but there was no reprieve forthcoming, and Paul began to think that Mr. Johnson enjoyed making him squirm.

Paul moved his face in between Mr. Johnson's buttocks, and while his tongue slid up from the underside of his balls and along the ridge of skin between his scrotum and his anus, Paul was at least grateful for his boss's impeccable hygiene.

"That's a good boy," Mr Johnson sighed as he ground his backside into his employee's face. "Lick it good, just the outside though. Don't go putting that tongue of yours inside me. Grab my cock while you lick my ass. That's it. Milk it - just like I was a cow."

This isn't so bad, Paul thought as he worked his tongue all over the taut puckered anus of his boss. In fact, the way Mr. Johnson was writhing around and pushing his backside into his face so her cheeks caught the heat emanating from his supervisor's bowels, for once Paul felt like he was in control.

Paul's jaw was aching after a few minutes as he licked up and down the sweet smelling crack while his fists pumped up and down Mr. Johnson's cock, and Paul was actually disappointed when Mr. Johnson yanked his hands off of him and spun around.

"Open your mouth," Mr. Johnson said as he replaced Paul's hands with his own, and as he grabbed the back of Paul's head he let out a loud moan while his big black fist worked his cock like a piston.

Paul got his mouth open just in time as the first wad of cum spurted out of Mr. Johnson's manhood, landing right in his mouth from a few inches away. Paul watched the foreskin slid back and forth as Mr. Johnson pumped away, and the resulting spurts of semen that erupted from the gaping hole at the tip of his member mostly found their target, with only a couple of wads landing on Paul's lips and cheek.

"Good boy," Mr. Johnson said as he worked his deflating cock into Paul's mouth and tried to have him swallow it. To Paul, it felt like the entire cock was in his mouth and he was let down when he looked and saw that half of the prodigious member was still outside.

"You going to tell your Diane about this?" Mr. Johnson asked as he got his pants back up, not expecting Paul to answer him. "Diane. I think the three of us should get together sometime."

"Isn't this enough? " Paul pleaded as he wiped the semen off of his cheek. "I'll keep doing this stuff for you, but my wife - Diane - please leave her out of this. She would never understand."

"How long you been married, Lombardo? Ten years? Fourteen?" Rawle Johnson asked as he checked out his image in the mirror. "About time the poor thing found out who she was married to. Who knows? Maybe she'll like the real you better.

After his boss left, Paul Lombardo got up off of his knees and started for the door. Like Mr. Johnson had done before him, he looked in the mirror before leaving and saw the large wet stain in the front of his pants. A stain that would take quite a bit of time to evaporate in front of the men's room hand dryer before he went home for the day.

***

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