Lena Malick
Under the Boss's Desk
We were flying at thirty thousand feet. I was sitting next to my boss, the man I’d been madly lusting after for the last three years. He was asleep. Not surprising after what we’d been through in the last five days.
His head was tilted against the window, propped on a sliver of a pillow the stewardess provided. The shade was half down, with enough late afternoon light filtering through to softly illuminate his face. I couldn’t remember ever having the opportunity to look at him like this, completely unrestrained. I stared, greedy at the opportunity. His face had smooth, almost aristocratic features, except for his full lips. He had deep set eyes and porcelain-like skin. His arms had prominent veins running their length, the result of a crushing daily workout routine. He was only thirty-one, but already had lines on his forehead and small crows feet spreading from his eyes, violating the smooth texture of his luminous, pale skin.
His mouth was open slightly as he slept, his lips parted. I pictured myself kissing him, as I had imagined a thousand times. Only now I could imagine it as I actually looked at his lips. I leaned in closer, careful not to wake him. I could smell him, the familiar scent of his cologne, combined with a musty, sweet smell. His dark eyelashes, as long as a young boy’s, lay graceful as silk over his eyes. My hair fell forward, nearly brushing his chin.
I sat back in my chair, not trusting my impulses. For three years, I had refrained. I’d not let my feelings be known, always keeping my desire at bay. When he announced his engagement, I celebrated with him. When she broke it off, breaking his heart, I held him as he sobbed. I worked long hours, sometimes weekends. I traveled with him, assisted him, and helped him keep his life in order. “You’re my rock,” he’d tell me. I’d rather be your lover, I’d always think.
I was tired. We’d been on a five-day whirlwind trip, presenting design plans to European partners in three different countries. Delphrey Architecture Group was in the bidding for an ambitious, upscale hotel chain. It was a multi-million dollar, ten-year contract. It would instantly triple the size of the firm. In the last eight years, Calvin Delphrey had transformed his father’s small architecture shop into an international firm. He’d put everything into getting this contract. It would make or break the company. The trip seemed to go well, but we were both exhausted from the stress, the meetings, and the travel. We were told we would know in two days if the contract was ours
I looked again at Calvin. His eyelids twitched. I rested my head back and closed my eyes, escaping into my usual fantasy. I imagined him kissing me, feeling his tongue in my mouth, his stubble against my cheek. I could feel his hand in my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss, his other hand groping my breasts. Calvin is by nature a gentle and polite man, but in my fantasies I always imagined him taking me roughly, overcome with lust, grabbing and pulling me-possessing me and forcing me to submit.
I began to squirm in my seat, my pulse increasing. I breathed in deep, trying to draw in his scent. He moved. I opened my eyes. His eyes were still closed, but he adjusted in his seat. When he was still again, I realized he had an erection. I panicked for a moment. Ever the competent assistant, I felt I should do something about it. I glanced around and realized that nobody but me could see it-I was blocking the view of anyone that might walk down the isle. I checked to make sure his eyes were closed, then stared at the bulge. It was large, pushing straight up in a v shape, making a tent of his khakis. It seemed like an aberration, a living appendage that had come to life. My heart was pounding now. I was so close I could reach out and touch it. What if he woke? He’d be embarrassed. He was so reserved and proper. I turned away and closed my eyes again. Now I wasn’t imagining him kissing me, I was imagining unzipping his pants and putting his dick in my mouth. Right here and now. The thought made me dizzy. I looked to the side again, stealing another look. I could just make out the outline of the head as it strained against the fabric of his pants.
I slid my hand under the blanket that was on my lap. I couldn’t go up my skirt without reaching too far down. I pulled in my belly and slid my hand under the waistband. My fingers slid over my panties. I massaged my fingers over my clit, rubbing the fabric against it. A flush rolled through my body. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to sit still. I realized I’d let out a slight moan. I sat still; afraid I’d been heard. I wanted to get up and go into the bathroom. I couldn’t. I couldn’t get up and leave him like this. I looked at him again. His erection seemed even bigger, tilted in my direction, like it could smell me. I slowly slid my hand down my crotch. My pussy was wet and slippery, even through my panties.
I reached over and quietly unlatched Calvin’s tray table, lowering it. It leveled out just above his erection, covering it from view. I slipped out of my seat and walked up the isle to the bathroom.
Two stewardesses were just outside the bathroom, talking quietly. It was that mid point of the flight were they had little to do. One nodded and smiled to me as I went into the bathroom. Inside, I could still hear them talking. I latched the door. I pulled my panties down, stepping out of them. I put a heeled foot on the toilet seat and pulled my skirt up. I knew I had to be quick about it. I slide a finger in my pussy, and used my other hand to rub my clit. I was soaked. “Atlanta’s even worse than LaGuardia, if you’re in a hurry,” I heard one of the stewardess say as I slipped another finger in my pussy. The bathroom was so small I could push my shoulders against the wall and still press my crotch forward so the back of my hand pressed against the sink, giving me leverage. The more I pushed, the deeper my fingers penetrated. My other hand was working circles on my clit. “But they’re so much friendlier there, I guess because it’s the south,” the other stewardess said. I was pressed so hard against the wall that I was able to lift my other leg off the floor so my knee was leveraged against the sink.
I looked at my self in the mirror. I had a desperate look on my face, like I was in pain. It was painful-wanting the same man for years, while spending hours every day working right beside him. As I looked at myself, I could see all that built up sexual frustration on my face-the ache of unfulfilled desire. I watched my hand jamming fingers in my pussy. I was so wet my hand was making sucking sounds as I worked my fingers. The plane jolted, rocked by some turbulence. I was close to orgasm. I imagined sucking Calvin, his dick warm and hard in my mouth. The plane settled down. I imagined him bending me over, fucking me, grunting as he grabbed my ass and thrust into me. I was closer. I could feel the orgasm building. Close. The plane rocked again, this time really shaking. The return to seat light went on with a ding-ding-ding. “Shit, time to strap in,” I heard one of the stewardesses say from the other side of the door. My head went back, hitting the wall as the orgasm rocked me. I shook and convulsed, my knee sliding up and banging the mirror. We are experiencing some turbulence, and we ask that you… the announcement came over the PA system, covering the sound I was making as the orgasm tore through me.
I sulked up the isle to my seat, trying to pat down my hair. Either the turbulence or the announcement had woken Calvin. He was groggily coming to life. I slipped into my seat as his knee bumped the tray table. He looked at it like he didn’t quite know what it was. I slid it up, glancing down as I did. His erection was gone. “Good nap?” I asked him. “Yeah… I guess I dozed off there. How about you, did you get a nap in?”
“Oh, yeah. I slept. I’ve been sleeping.”
“Really? I thought you couldn’t sleep on planes.”
“Right,” I said, blushing. “Not usually. But I was really… tired, I guess.” I avoided looking at him, feeling his eyes on me. My face was red. I felt like he could smell my sexual need for him.
Two days later, we still hadn’t heard about the contract. The tension in the office was palpable, as if we were all waiting for the building to explode. The firm had about forty employees, and this contract would mean job security and raises for everyone. Or downsizing, if it went the other way.
Calvin and I didn’t stop working, going right from the airport to the office. We worked the day we got back until nearly midnight, then were back in the office at eight the next morning. The stress on Calvin was unbearable. He was so tense he walked stiffly and sat rigid in his chair, forgetting to blink.
At the end of the second day, after almost everyone had gone home, he called me into his office. “Go home, Janet. You’ve been here twelve hours. Enough.” He let out a big, resigned sigh. “I don’t want to miss the call, if it comes,” I said.
He rubbed his eyes and looked up at me. He was so tired. I wanted to crawl over the desk and take him in my arms. As much as I disliked the woman he had been engaged to, Gabrielle, he was a more relaxed person when he was with her. It was three months since she’d broken off their engagement. At the time, he was so destroyed he hardly spoke for a week. The stress of that, combined with the pending contract, seemed to age him in just the last few months. I imagined sitting on his lap, holding is head in my hands and kissing his “If they call, you’ll be the first to know,” he said. “You have a life. It’s time you started going home at a reasonable hour. You’ve been great, going well beyond the call of duty, but I’ve been taking advantage of that. It’s not fair. Go home.” Please, oh please take advantage of me, I thought. I took this as a sign that he didn’t think we’d get the contract. There’d been no talk of going home at a reasonable hour before. “Sure,” I said, looking at his sad eyes, fighting hard to keep my impulses contained. “You’ll let me know if they call?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, resting his head in his hands.
The next morning, I slept in. The lack of sleep finally caught up with me. I didn’t get to work until nine-thirty. I went to Calvin’s office, ready to apologize for being late. I found the door open and half a dozen people inside, all talking excitedly. Calvin saw me and flashed me a huge smile. “Janet! We got it. We got the contract! ” He was like a little boy on Christmas morning, unable to contain his excitement. I nearly broke into tears I was so relieved.
“We did? We got it? Why didn’t you call me?” I squealed.
“I know, I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you in person. The time change. That’s why they didn’t call yesterday. I got a voicemail at four this morning.” Just then, one of the vice presidents put a hand on Calvin’s shoulder and they began conferring, making plans and strategizing, as men do. Some of the others began drifting out of the office. I walked back to my desk and collapsed into my chair.
Ten minutes later, Calvin called me back into his office. Everyone else was gone. “Listen,” he said, coming around his desk, “this wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“Thank you,” I said, blushing.
“I mean it. All the late nights, the weekends. More than anyone else, you were key in getting this done.” I stared at the floor, my cheeks warm. “I want you to do something for me,” he continued. “I want you to start interviewing for your replacement. I’m bumping you up. I don’t want to lose you as my assistant, but it’s not fair, after all you’ve done, to hold you back. It would be selfish of me. I’m making you an executive.” I looked at him just as he took me in his arms and gave me a big hug. I was so caught off guard I barely hugged him back. I was limp. All I heard was that I wasn’t going to be working side by side with him any more. My whole body went cold.
“Thank you,” I sputtered out. “Um, thank you, Calvin.”
“Okay, but listen,” he said, breaking the hug just as I was beginning to melt into it. “Unfortunately, we’ve got a lot of work to do today, then we can really celebrate. They’ve signed the contract, but requested a lot of additional paperwork, all of which I have to send out first thing in the morning. I’ll need you on you’re A game today, all right?”
“Yes, sure. Of course,” I said, straightening up, still eager to prove myself.
The rest of the day I immersed myself in my work, unwilling to let the thought of not working with Calvin enter my thoughts. I knew if I did, I’d break down. Almost everyone else was going out for a celebratory lunch, but I stayed behind, working at a furious pace. At seven, everyone trickled out, meeting up for drinks. I kept working. By nine, I’d finished. I went into Calvin’s office, arms stacked with file folders. “It’s done,” I said, dropping the files on his desk. He swirled in his chair toward me. “Excellent,” he said. “Well done, Janet.” He’d taken his shoes off and was in his stocking feet-an uncharacteristic display of casualness. Maybe he was finally beginning to relax. “You can catch up with the others, I’m sure they’re still out having drinks,” he said, rubbing his neck.
“No, that’s okay. Your neck bothering you?” It always bothered him after he’d flown. Normally, I’d book a massage for him the day he returned, but there’d been no time after this last trip. I remembered the way he was sleeping on the plane, propped awkwardly against the window. The thought brought the whole experience flooding back to me, causing a warm flush to go through my body.
“You slept on the plane,” I said, coming around behind his chair. “That probably did a number on your neck.” I knew the spot that always gave him trouble. I put my hands on his shoulders, sliding them toward his neck until I felt the hard knot under his skin. I began to knead with my thumbs. He rolled forward and let out a low, guttural moan. “Oh, God, yes. That’s the spot,” he said softly.
I’d done this plenty of times before. I’d often massage him before big meetings. I’d read about Japanese women that would touch their men in some way before important events, to enhance their masculine power. A woman’s touch seems to embolden a man. As I worked his shoulders, I looked out the window. Our offices were on the twenty-third floor. The lights of the city sparkled up and down the numerous office towers, some winking dark as people left for the night. I looked down at the back of Calvin’s head, and the thought of not working with him crept into my thoughts. I’d let my guard down. My eyes began to well up. I turned my head and wiped my tears on my shoulder to keep them from dripping on him. I looked out the window again, seeing the tiny form of a cleaning lady vacuuming an office tower across the way.
I was still looking out the window, lost in my self-pity, when Calvin straightened back up. His head rested against my breasts. I didn’t disengage. He didn’t move. I continued massaging him. I slid my hands up his neck and into his hair, massaging his scalp as I pressed him gently into my chest. I looked down and could see his chest moving as his breathing increased. Part of me was aware I was breaking a barrier, but I didn’t think about it-I just did it. I unbuttoned my blouse and let his head rest in my cleavage as I massaged his temples.
“Janet…” he said softly. I was certain he was going to tell me to stop. To go home. That this wasn’t appropriate. That he didn’t want me like that. “Janet, I have a confession to make.”
My mouth went dry. I continued to massage him, sliding my fingers over his cheeks and forehead, running my hands through his hair. I pressed my chest into the back of his head. He let out a light moan. “Yes?” I said, so softly I wasn’t sure I’d said it out load.
“I’ve had… feelings, that I’ve not been able to express. About you.” His eyes were closed, his mouth open, as if in a reverie. I unhooked the back of my bra and let it slide off. I pressed his head to my bare breasts and ran my hand under his shirt, over his chest.
“I’ve had… I’ve wanted to… It wasn’t appropriate, because…” He kept losing his train of thought. I leaned down and kissed the top of his head. I could see his erection pushing against his pants. I kissed his ear, breathing into it. “Yes?” I said. He turned to face me, his chair swiveling around. He reached up and put a hand on my cheek, pulling me in closer. His moist lips parted slightly, and His phone rang.
We froze. I was so lost in the moment, I didn’t recognize what the sound was at first. Who would call this late? He swiveled his chair back and we both looked at the caller ID. Gabrielle. His ex fiancee.
We were stiff as statues, staring at the phone.
I knew how much he missed her when she broke off their engagement. She crushed his heart. She was ruthless, and I didn’t trust her. She was a spoiled, manipulative woman that was always used to getting her way. And she usually did. I wanted to reach through the phone and strangle her for ruining what might be the only tender moment I’d have with him.
He picked up the receiver.
“Hey,” he said weakly. I could hear her garbled voice through the receiver. “Yeah-no, I was just doing some work,” he said.
He didn’t look at me. I stood up and buttoned my blouse. I quickly picked up my bra and walked around his desk to the door.
“Yeah, well, I miss you as well,” he said feebly, as if trying to spare me. “You do? You still feel that way?” he said, his voice sadly hopeful.
I stood in the doorway of his office, looking at him. I wanted him to look at me. I got it. She won. I wasn’t going to get him. Fine. But I wanted him to look at me once before I left.
“Well, yeah, I think there’s a chance that might… happen,” he said. He finally looked up at me. His face was a mix of emotions; hope, despair, apology. In the quiet, I could faintly hear her sing-song voice on the other end, the tone dripping with sweetness.
I turned to go. “Oh. Well, yes. We did, actually,” he said, the manner of his voice changing. “We did get the contract. How did you know about that?”
Ah, so that’s it, I thought. She knows about the deal, and smells money. That didn’t take long. I turned back around. Calvin was staring into space as he listened to her.
Facing him, I unbuttoned my blouse. His gaze landed back on me as he continued to listen. “Uh-huh,” he said as I slid my blouse off. He stared at me, mouth open. I must say, I’ve got world-class tits. Her voice continued to prattle through the other end of the receiver.
Something came over me, like a personality change. The proper, considerate me seemed to die on the spot, taken over by someone I only recognized from my fantasies.
I got on my knees and crawled across his office floor. His desk has an open back-I crawled under it until I was in front of his chair, still on my hands and knees. I reached up and unbuckled his belt and quickly unbuttoned his pants. I pulled his zipper down.
“I… I… I…” he stammered.
The voice on the other end didn’t seem to hear him as she continued her pitch. I pulled his underwear down, just enough to pull his dick out. I reached in, took it out, and I put it in my mouth. As my mouth made contact, his body jerked, as if a shock went through him. He was only half hard, so I was able to hold him completely in my mouth. Immediately, I could feel his cock swelling, pushing at the inside of my mouth. He was saying something else on the phone, something in jerks and fits. I was so consumed with the feeling of finally doing the thing I’d thought of doing hundreds times, that I couldn’t even tell what he was saying.
He was almost fully hard now. His hand slid over my head, grabbing a fist full of hair. I stroked his cock with one hand as I moved my mouth over the head and down the shaft, his length now too much for me to fully take in. I cupped and massaged his silky balls with my other hand.
He was talking again. I paused, holding him in my mouth, and listened.
“You’re sure? You’re sure this time?” he said, breathlessly. I knew right away what he was referring to. “No, no, nothing’s wrong. I’m just, taken aback. You were so sure… before.” I squeezed the bottom of his shaft and slid his dick as far into my mouth as I could, until it was pushing at the back of my throat. I made a slight slurping sound. “Oh, my God. Oh, my… no, it’s not you. I just. I’m just. I’m just not sure how to respond. Right now. Oh, God.”
I looked up at him. He looked down at me, my mouth deep on his cock, my hand cupping his balls. Spit dribbled off my chin. “I…” he said into the phone. “I… can I, can I call you back?” There was more chirping on the other end, sounding more animated. “You want me to answer you now? You want a yes or no answer right now?” he said.
I slid his dick out of my mouth. I was still crouched between his legs. Very slowly, I began to get up. As I did, I slipped my panties off. I let my face pass an inch from his, pausing as if to kiss him. I licked my lips and used my finger to wipe the spittle off my chin, sucking my fingertips. I continued up so my tits passed over his face, even bumping the phone. I sat on the edge of his desk with my skirt bunched around my waist. I propped a heel on the armrest of his chair, trapping him in.
“Right now? You want an answer right now?” he fumbled, staring at me, his breathing heavy. Yeees! I could hear her screech through the phone, followed by chipmunk-like gibberish.
I leaned forward and pulled his chair closer, putting my other heel on the other armrest. Then I slid my legs around the chair, so his face was right at my open crotch, so close he could feel the heat from my pussy.
I looked down. His pants were bunched under his hips. His erection was so big, the tip of his dick was nearly touching his belly button. His chest was heaving. I reached behind his head and pulled him closer, so his face was right at my pussy. I spread my legs wider and reached down to my saturated crotch, spreading my cunt wide open with my fingers.
Calvin was so excited he was shaking. He abruptly stood up, his pants falling to the floor as he did. His erection was enormous. He looked down at me, holding his dick with one hand, the phone with the other. I put my hands behind my knees and rolled back, pulling my legs up and out so I was folded in half on his desk, spread wide. I looked up at him from between my knees. Fuck me, I mouthed. Fuck me, Calvin Delphrey. Fuck me now.
“I have to…” he said into the phone in a shaky voice. “I have to say… no. No, Gabrielle, I don’t want to marry you.” There was silence coming through the other end. “I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Ever.” his voice was firmer now. “And I don’t want you to ever call me again. Ever. Never call me again! ” he said in a loud, authoritative voice. He slammed the phone down in its cradle.
I expected him to attack me. To devour me. To immediately fuck me blind. Instead, he took a step back and pulled his pants up.
“Stand up,” he demanded. “Get up!”
I scrambled off his desk. All of a sudden, everything I’d done since I started massaging his shoulders came back to me in a rush, like the collision of some other reality. I couldn’t believe what I’d just done. Was that me? Could I really have done all that? I stood next to his desk, adjusting my skirt as he buckled his pants.
“You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?” he said in a slow, measured voice. “You thought that’s all it would take? Spread your legs and I’d be yours? Answer me!”
“No,” I said, humiliated. I hugged my front, trying to cover my breasts.
“Do you think I’m some gullible teenager?”
“No. Please.”
He came closer. “Please what?” He was face to face with me, except I was looking at the ground.
“Please,” I said. “Please, can we just forget…”
“Forget it? Forget what you just did?”
I wanted to dissolve into a puddle and disappear into the carpet.
“Ohh noo,” he said. “That won’t be happening. Turn around.”
I lifted my head and looked at him, confused.
“Turn. Around.”
I did, facing his desk. He yanked my skirt top to my waist and pushed me forward so my upper half was sprawled across his desk. I was so surprised I threw my arms out, sending the stack of file folders flying. He roughly adjusted my hips, then slapped my bare ass so hard the sound shocked me before the pain hit. Before I could get my head around what was happening, he smacked my ass again with his open palm. Even harder. Then a third time. The last one hurt the most, stinging so badly my eyes began to water.
He stood behind me. “You deserve that, don’t you?” he said. I couldn’t answer. I was so disoriented, I wouldn’t have know my own name if he’d asked me. He reached down and took my ass cheeks in his hands and spread me wide open. “I’m looking at your ass, your asshole, spread open. Is this what you wanted, to reveal yourself to me? Is this what you wanted?” His voice was breathy and excited.
He slapped my ass again. Hard. I shuddered-a quiver of pleasure unexpectedly tingling in my groin. Another hard smack. “Bad girl,” he nearly screamed. Again, a loud crack. My ass was now numb, but the quiver of pleasure was no longer faint-it was taking me over. I was shaking.
“I’m… I’m bad. I’m a bad girl. I’m a bad girl. Please… please punish me.”
Without a word, he slapped me again. A jolt went though my body. He began slapping me in rapid succession. He grabbed my stinging butt with one hand, and with the other he stuck his thumb in my pussy. He didn’t slide it in, he jammed it in, then shook that hand and the hand on my ass together, causing me to squirm and flop on the desk. He shook me like I was a rag doll. The pleasure that buzzed in me was like an enormous bell that had been rung, rattling the whole room with a dense vibration.
An orgasm was rushing toward me like a tidal wave about to hit land when he pulled his thumb out. He reached down and grabbed my hair, pulling me up to standing. He spun me around. “Is this what you wanted?”
He kissed me. Taking me in his arms, he kissed me passionately, like a real lover. “Is this what you wanted?” he said, and kissed me again, sliding his hand up my neck and pulling my head deeper into the kiss. “Is this what you wanted?” he said again, kissing my lips, my cheeks, my ears.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes. For years. All of it. Yes.”
He cupped my breasts as I reached down and unbuckled his pants and let them fall to the floor, along with his underwear. His dick sprung forward. I took it in my hands like it was a possession that belonged only to me. As he unbuttoned his shirt, I kissed his neck, sliding his shirt off his shoulders. I kissed his chest and nipples, down to his stomach and belly button, kissing my way down. I tenderly kissed his dick, wetting it with my tongue, licking the length of the shaft until it was slippery wet. Then I took it in my mouth. It was warm and firm, pulsing with life. He put his hands on my head and moaned as I moved him in and out of my mouth, stroking him as I did. He seemed to swell larger as I sucked him, as firm and hard as the muscles in his arms.
He pulled himself out and crouched down, pushing the chair out of the way. He kissed me again as he gently tilted me back so I was lying on my back on the carpet. He moved over me, pulling my legs apart. I felt him push against me. His size caused my body to resist at first, before finally giving way. He entered me slowly, pushing in slightly, then pulling out, then pushing in deeper. And deeper. And deeper. All the way in, until I felt like he was consuming my whole body with his size.
He was an expert lover. I would never have expected it, with his polite, proper ways. He knew where my body was going before I did, slowing down as an orgasm built up in me, then pushing fast and deep as the orgasm approached, and maintaining it as it rolled through me. He slowed to a stop while still inside me, kissing me, massaging my breasts, and then slowly started up again, bringing me right back to another peak. After my second orgasm, he slowed, pulling out of me. He stood and reached down, taking my hands and lifting me up. He led me to the couch along the wall of his office. He sat and maneuvered me over his lap, facing him. I reached behind and guided him into me, sliding down until he was filling me again. I moved forward and back, up and down as I watched his face. I kissed his forehead and nose and eyes, still not believing what was happening, wanting to take it all in, afraid I’d wake up at any second. I kissed his mouth, his tongue gorging my mouth, just as I’d always fantasized.
He looked up at me as I rode him up and down. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” I said.
“No,” he said, his face contorted, like he was getting close to orgasm. I slid all the way down and squeezed, greedily sucking him all the way in.
“Since the beginning. Since the very beginning,” I said. “For three years I’ve wanted this.” His face twisted again. “Oh, God,” he said.