Sleeping with My Boss Ch. 01

I found the top of her zip and pulled it down to the small of her back, where her buttocks started to flare out. She pulled my shirt out of my trousers, her tapered fingers fumbling at the buttons, leaving the bottom couple still done up and dragging the thing over my head.

I pulled her dress down and it slid over her slim hips and fell to the ground. Underneath, my boss was wearing a white lacy bra and matching knickers. I pulled her to me again for a kiss, feeling her brassiere against my chest, her skin warm against mine. Her lips met mine hungrily, her tongue slipping between my lips and exploring my mouth. I reached behind her and slid my hands underneath the waist band of her panties, feeling the soft flesh of her buttocks, feeling the warmth and roundness.

We tried to keep kissing while Elizabeth wrestled with my trouser belt but it was too awkward and besides, I was still wearing shoes and socks. So I gently disengaged and sat in what looked suspiciously like a Chippendale chair and pulled off my shoes and socks and trousers and finally my underpants, while Elizabeth watched me, standing quite still, her face serious, one hand lightly stroking her vulva though the thin fabric of her panties.

It was an intensely erotic moment and I felt the blood rush involuntarily to my face as I stood to face her, my hands at my sides, my cock rigid with arousal, the veins standing out, sticky liquid oozing from my glans. Elizabeth looked at my erection, then at my face, her expression unchanging, still rubbing lightly at her crotch, a damp patch now visible in the white material.

I think we stood like that for about twenty seconds. I was mesmerised. Blown away by the intensity of my desire for this lady. Fifty-something she may have been but her body showed few signs of the passing of time. She was lithe and slim-hipped and perfectly proportioned. Long-legged and slender limbed, her hair framed a face of beauty and maturity and I felt a lump in my throat.

Slowly she reached behind herself and unclipped her bra, shrugging it off her shoulders and down her arms. Her breasts were paler than the rest of her skin. Pert globes the size of large oranges, the areolae dark pink and crinkly, her nipples like little raspberries.

I stepped forward and reached out and she watched my hand as I stroked her breast, running a fingertip over her nipple, making her shiver in the warmth of the room.

We came together again and kissed softly and slowly and my erection pressed into the crotch of her panties and she moaned softly and pressed herself to me until I thought I was going to ejaculate.

Still saying nothing, she gently pushed me away and bent to pull her knickers down, pulling them inside out as the fabric clung to her sticky labia, rolling them down her long legs and kicking them off onto the bedroom carpet.

Naked, we climbed together onto the bed and came together in another gentle kiss and as I worked my lips against hers I stroked her hair, feeling its softness, tracing the line of her cheek and her neck, running my hand down over her shoulder, seeking and finding her breast, cupping the soft flesh, squeezing and kneading, finding her nipple, stiff with arousal, pinching it gently between finger and thumb.

Elizabeth moaned into my mouth and I felt her hand search for my penis, felt her long, tapered fingers circle my shaft and squeeze gently.

'Will you take me now Robin, please?' she whispered into my ear.

She opened her legs wide to allow me to kneel between them. I felt hot and almost disconnected from my body. The scene playing out in the bedroom seemed almost unreal, too good to be true by a country mile. A few scant days ago Elizabeth Benson had been a distant object of some undefined, perhaps undefinable, desire. A paradigm of unreachable feminine maturity. Sleek, well groomed, cold and distant. Beautiful but icy. Now she was naked beneath me, wanting me, urging me into her.

I gripped my cock and lowered myself to her. She had a thick, dark brown bush, carefully trimmed and surrounding neat, golden-brown labia. I rubbed my big, purple cockhead up and down her slit, feeling the lips part, feeling the slippery lubrication of her arousal.

'Yes!' she hissed and I pressed down and my cock sank into her and I kept going until she had the whole seven inches, and my mound was pressing against hers. It felt magnificent, hot and liquid and tighter than I would have thought possible.

Underneath me Elizabeth gave a great groan as I penetrated her. She wrapped her long legs around my hips and squeezed me against her, folding her arms around my neck, her hand on the back of my head, pressing my face to hers.

I started to fuck my boss then. Coming out halfway and slowly, slowly sliding back in, relishing the feeling of sliding through her sopping vagina, feeling its grip, relishing the feeling of her arms and legs around me, the total giving of herself to me. And as I fucked her I looked down on her face and she looked up at me, her eyes brimming, her lips swollen and parted, her breath short and shallow.

I would like to say that we fucked for long moments the first time, but the truth of the matter was that I was so worked up that only a cold shower would have delayed the inevitable. I guess we fucked for two or three minutes before, however much I slowed down, that intense feeling of impending and unstoppable orgasm started growing and swelling and sweeping through my soul.

Just before the climax peaked I gasped and thrust harder and Elizabeth cried out and clamped her legs around me and dug her nails into my flesh and I was dimly aware through the sheets of pleasure that she too was in the throes of a mighty orgasm.

Then it was upon me and I was gasping and thrusting and pumping thick jets of spunk into my employer's sopping cunt.

Then the sensations were dying, all too quickly and I was slowing down and opening my eyes and seeing Elizabeth looking up at me and smiling gently at me.

'Thank you,' she said, quietly. 'You gave me a lovely orgasm. That doesn't happen often for me during intercourse.' I withdrew from her, my cock still hard, and lay down on the bed beside her, feeling a huge sense of peace and contentment settle over me.

'I should be the one thanking you. That was... well, I can't describe it. Mind blowing!'

Elizabeth cuddled up to me, her head in the crook of my neck, her hand on my chest, gently stroking the hair on my pectorals.

'Believe it or not,' she began softly, 'that was my first time for nearly five years.'

It was something that had been niggling at me and now she'd given me the perfect opening.

'So you're not in any sort of a relationship then?'

'Of course not,' she replied, with some asperity. 'I wouldn't be here with you if I were.'

'I'm sorry, I put that badly. It's just that I can't understand why somebody as accomplished as you in every way, as gorgeous as you, isn't in a relationship.'

I heard the smile in her voice. 'With respect, Robin, that's a rather youthful attitude. It is quite possible to exist on one's own.'

'I'm sorry,' I said again, 'I suppose the thing is that although we've been working together for three months, I don't really know you at all.'

'What would you like to know?'

'Just everything.'

'OK, but first I have a question for you. Are you in a relationship?'

'No.'

'Right, good. So, where do I begin? You'll be very disappointed, it's quite an ordinary story.'

So Elizabeth told me about herself, quietly and carefully, stroking my chest and stomach as she spoke. She had grown up in Market Sutton, in the same house she was now living in. Her mother had died when she was quite young and Elizabeth had been sent to a private school near Ipswich, where she had done very well, being appointed head girl in her final year.

University had followed, then law school; it was always assumed that she would take over the family business, and she did so at the age of thirty-three, although her father was around for a long time afterwards in an advisory capacity.

'Actually,' she said, 'he was great. He never interfered unless I asked.

Then marriage had come, and that had lasted fifteen years until she had found out that her husband was cheating on her with the practice receptionist.

'Not Hazel?' I interrupted.

'No, not Hazel.'

'What did you do?' I asked.

'I sacked them both. Teresa from her position as receptionist and Mike from his position as my husband.'

'And after the divorce you reverted to your maiden name?'

'I never took his name. I wanted to stay as a Benson, because of the business. It really pissed him off,' she added and it was the first time I heard Elizabeth use even a mild expletive.

'And after the divorce?'

'I concentrated on work, Robin, to the exclusion of almost everything else. Oh, I had a few dates and a very brief relationship, but it wasn't really what I wanted, at the time. I retreated into my shell a bit. Became a bit cold, I suppose. Isolation does that to you, even when it's self-imposed.'

I stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. 'I thought you were quite frightening when I first met you in the interview room. That severe hairstyle and the power dressing and the fact that you never smiled.'

'What do you think now? Are you still frightened?'

'Yes,' I whispered into her ear. 'But for different reasons.'

She tilted her face up for a kiss and at the same time I felt her hand slide down my stomach, towards my loins, tangling her fingers in my pubic hair. Then she started stroking my cock, gently, just using one finger, the nail scraping lightly against my skin. The effect was immediate, my penis began to fill with blood, to expand and harden under Elizabeth's touch.

We took it very slowly, that second time. As soon as I was fully hard, Elizabeth rolled onto her back, opening her legs and drawing them up over her chest, exposing herself to me in all her mature glory, her bush wet with her juices, her labia parted. I entered her slowly, easily, feeling the slipperiness of her secretions and my recent ejaculation. Underneath me Elizabeth opened her mouth in a silent gasp as I sank into her.

I fucked her slowly, relishing the feel of her, the scent of her arousal, the sticky noises my cock made as I slid in and out. Elizabeth rode with me, her legs around my back, pulling me in as I thrust and releasing me for the return stroke.

I kissed her neck and her cheeks and her peerless lips and I tasted her saliva. I bent my neck and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth and she squirmed underneath me and I bit down gently on the little pink nub. I slid my rigid dick in and out of her sopping pussy and I looked down at her and she looked back at me with parted lips and serious eyes and I felt like I'd just conquered the world and she was my prize.

It felt unreal. Within the space of seventy-two hours Elizabeth had gone from being my distant and rather cold employer to writhing under me, my cock buried to the hilt in her cunt. Joining me in ecstasy, giving herself to me, sharing her thoughts and feelings with me. I felt choked with emotion and tears sprang to my eyes.

'Are you alright, Robin?'

'Oh God, yes!' And as I said this I felt the telltale tingling in my balls and I tried to slow down but the sensations were unstoppable and growing and expanding to fill the world and for the second time that day I had a mighty orgasm and pumped what was left of my spunk into Elizabeth Benson's cunt as she gripped me with her legs and raked her nails across my back.

We lay stunned for a few minutes and then Elizabeth got up and headed for the bathroom. 'I'm leaking on the duvet,' she explained.

I lay on the big bed in a half-stupor of sexual and emotional satisfaction. I heard the sound of the toilet, and then the shower and ten minutes later she came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped round her. 'Shower if you want, Robin,' she said and I was glad to stand under the stream of hot water.

Back in the bedroom Elizabeth had put on a black kimono. I went to her and we kissed and I stroked her body through the silky material.

'What now?' I asked.

She smiled at me. 'You mean now this minute, or what are you and I going to do in the future?'

'Now this minute.'

'Well I'm going downstairs to cook dinner, if you'd like some. After that I'd like to curl up on the settee and watch something silly on the TV.'

'And the other "What now?" I asked.

'Too difficult at the moment. And Robin, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not going to invite you to stay the night. I need some space.'

I had been looking forward to actually sleeping with Elizabeth, listening to her breathing in the silent watches of the night. But you can't have everything. I dressed and joined Elizabeth in the kitchen and watched her as she prepared a meal with deft, efficient movements and I got in the way and she shooed me out so I sat in the sitting room and flicked aimlessly through the TV channels looking for something to watch.

After dinner we snuggled up on the leather sofa and watched Notting Hill or rather watched some of it in between kissing and fondling. I couldn't leave her alone. It was as though I needed constant reassurance that I wasn't dreaming.

I left after it had finished and after a long, drawn-out kiss in the deserted reception room. Back home I mooched around and went to bed early and thought about Elizabeth and eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep full of strange and unresolved dreams.

Elizabeth was already at her desk when I arrived on Monday morning. I said 'hello' to Hazel, typing away the reception desk and breezed through to the offices at the back and there she was, in one of her habitual business suits, hair back in the tight bun. I waved and she beckoned me into her office.

'Close the door, Robin,' she told me and I felt a sense of foreboding as I sat down opposite her.

'I didn't sleep too well last night,' she began. 'I thought I would after all that lovely sex but I couldn't seem to settle. Too busy thinking.' I waited, saying nothing. 'You asked about the second "What now", and I gave that some thought.'

I steeled myself for bad news.

'I'm fifty-four, Robin. Twenty-four years older than you. Do you really want to have a relationship with me?'

'More than anything,' I assured her.

'OK,' she said slowly. 'That's nice to know.' She paused, marshalling her thoughts. 'I'm sorry to be negative but what if we tried to have a relationship and it failed, because of the age gap or something else?' What happens then? Could we still work together?'

'I think so,' I said, slowly. 'We're both adults, we've had relationships before.'

'I think we should keep it secret for the time being. Would that be alright, Robin?'

I felt a warm glow of gladness. 'Of course!'

'Are you sure? It means no touching or inappropriate behaviour outside my flat. And it will limit the time we can spend together. Are you sure you want to go through all that for the sake of an old divorcee?'

'If that's what it takes to have a relationship with you, Elizabeth, then it's a small price.'

She pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and dabbed her eyes. 'Look at me, the cool calculating lawyer, coming over all emotional.'

'Can I see you tonight?' I asked.

'Yes, darling, of course you can. But you'd better go home first and get an overnight bag.'

I went home at five o'clock. Hazel was still in the reception but she had left by the time I returned at half-past six with my overnight grip. Elizabeth had been very firm that Hazel must not suspect what was going on.

I let myself in with the key she'd given me and went upstairs where she was preparing dinner in the kitchen. I pulled the bottle of champagne out of my bag and handed it to her.

'Oh what a lovely thought! Thank you. But just one bottle tonight,' she warned me, putting the fizzy wine in the fridge. 'We don't want a repeat of Friday.'

She came and put her arms around me and we kissed slowly and languorously, mouths partly open, lips working against lips, tongues darting against each other in a sensuous game of tag. Elizabeth was dressed as though we were going out to dinner in a dark green sheath of some shiny material and it clung to her lissom form, outlining her hips and breasts and flat stomach. Her dark hair was loose again and she had made her face up carefully. Below, she was wearing black, sheer nylon hose and high heels. I felt a bit underdressed in my chinos and polo shirt.

'How long until dinner?' I asked.

'How long do you want it to be?' she replied with a grin.

'An hour would be nice.'

We went up to the top floor, to her big bedroom suite, and undressed slowly. As Elizabeth's green sheath slid silkily to the floor, I saw that she was wearing stockings and a black, satin suspender belt. Expensive-looking matching black bra and panties completed the picture, contrasting deliciously with her pale skin.

'Wow!' I said, drinking in the sight of her luscious, long, stockinged legs.

She smiled at me. 'Do you like stockings? I haven't worn them for years. I feel sexy in them.'

She unclipped her bra and crawled onto the bed and I joined her, naked, my cock rigid, the head and angry purple, leaking fluid.

We lay together and kissed and stroked and I felt her warmth and softness and the light scent of her perfume. I stroked her hair and her neck and shoulder and cupped and squeezed her breast, feeling the delicious, orange-sized orb fill my hand, feeling her little raspberry shaped nipple hard against my palm.

I stroked her stomach and ran my hand down over the ridges of her pelvis, and over the smooth satin of her knickers, cupping her vulva and pressing gently, feeling her bush under the fabric. Elizabeth mewed softly into my mouth and gripped me tighter with her hands, digging her nails into the flesh of my shoulders.

I slid my hand under the waistband of her knickers and felt her labia part under my fingertip, felt the hot, sticky wetness of her arousal. I slid my middle and fore fingers into her vagina and she moaned a bit louder as I curled the digits, seeking her G spot, feeling the hot walls of her cunt grip me.

I pushed my tongue deep into her mouth and started frigging her with my fingers, sliding them slowly in and out of her glutinous well. She gasped and braced her legs on the bed, tilting her hips, thrusting against my fingers, trying to get more inside her.

I kissed my employer harder, mashing my lips against hers, opening her mouth wide with mine, devouring her, drinking her saliva, tasting her tongue. My fingers slid from her cunt to her clitoris, teasing it with two fingertips, circling, stroking, feeling Elizabeth writhe against me, her neck muscles taut.

Then I stopped and knelt up and Elizabeth stared at me.

'Why are you stopping?' she asked, quietly.

'I want to taste you.'

I knelt between her legs and grasped the waistband of her knickers and she raised her hips to allow me to pull them down over her stocking legs. Then, to my delight, she placed a hand behind each of her knees and bent her legs right over her chest, locking her hands together, exposing her pussy to me, and the chocolate-brown pucker of her anus with its fringe of curly hair.

It was an act of supreme submission and giving and I looked down on her hairy pussy and golden-brown labia, parted now and showing a pink wetness inside, and on her superb, stockinged legs with the suspenders black against the smooth skin of her inner thighs and I knew I had never seen a more erotic sight.

I bent my head to her almost reverently, put my hands on her thighs, feeling her suspender straps under my fingers, and pressed my face to her sopping cunt. It was glorious! The smell of her arousal, her pubic hair against my cheeks and nose, the taste of her juices. I licked and lapped and sucked her labia into my mouth and pushed my tongue as far as I could get it into her hole and Elizabeth moaned and released her legs and gripped the duvet with white-knuckled hands as I found her clitoris and licked the little nubbin and flicked the tip of my tongue over its sensitive surface.