I stepped into the office building that Monday morning, my heart pounding with that familiar mix of thrill and naughtiness. My husband thought I was just heading to another day at work, but I knew better. I’d chosen my outfit carefully—a tight black pencil skirt that hugged my hips like a second skin, and a white blouse stretched taut over my full breasts, the top buttons already straining.
No bra today; my nipples poked against the fabric, begging for attention. I caught my reflection in the elevator mirror and flashed myself a confident smile, imagining my boss’s reaction.
God, I craved him—his rough hands, his commanding voice. Being married only made this hotter, like I was stealing something forbidden right under everyone’s nose. The office buzzed with the usual chatter, but I felt eyes on me as I sauntered to my desk. I bent over a bit more than necessary to set down my bag, knowing my skirt rode up just enough to tease. From across the room, I spotted him—Mr. Harlan, my boss, mid-40s with that salt-and-pepper hair and broad shoulders that filled out his suit perfectly. His gaze locked on me, dark and hungry, like he could already taste what he wanted. I met his eyes and smiled wider, biting my lip, my pussy tingling at the thought of what was coming. He owned this place, and today, he was going to own me.
‘Sarah, my office. Now,’ he said over the intercom, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down my spine. I stood, smoothing my skirt, and walked toward his door, my heels clicking on the tile.
The other employees glanced up, but I didn’t care. Let them wonder. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, the click of the lock behind me making my breath hitch. He was right there, towering over me, his eyes raking down my body. ‘You’ve been teasing me all morning, haven’t you?’ he growled, stepping close enough that I could smell his cologne mixed with the faint musk of his arousal. His hands shot out, grabbing my hips hard, pulling me against him. I gasped, feeling the bulge in his pants press into my stomach. ‘Yes, sir,’ I whispered, my voice husky, my hands sliding up his chest. The way he gripped me, possessive and unyielding, made my knees weak.
I loved this—being his dirty little secret, even with my wedding ring glinting on my finger. He didn’t waste time. His fingers worked the buttons of my blouse open, one by one, exposing my bare breasts to the cool office air. My nipples hardened instantly, aching. ‘Fuck, look at these,’ he muttered, cupping them roughly before leaning down to suck one into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the peak, teeth grazing just enough to make me moan. I arched into him, my hands tangling in his hair. ‘Oh God, Harlan, that feels so good,’ I breathed, heat flooding between my legs.
He switched to the other nipple, sucking harder, while his hand trailed down my stomach, slipping under my skirt. His fingers found my panties—already soaked—and he chuckled against my skin.
‘So wet for me already, Sarah? Thinking about your husband while I finger this pussy?’ The words stung with delicious shame, but they only made me hotter. I nodded, whimpering as he pushed the fabric aside and slid two fingers inside me, curling them just right. My walls clenched around him, slick and needy. ‘Yes… I need you,’ I admitted, my voice breaking. He pumped his fingers faster, thumb circling my clit, building that pressure deep in my core. Emotions swirled—guilt for betraying my vows, but overwhelming excitement at surrendering to his control. I couldn’t take it anymore. Dropping to my knees on the carpet, I fumbled with his belt, yanking his pants down. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, veins pulsing, the head already glistening with pre-cum. My mouth watered at the sight. ‘That’s it, suck my cock like the slutty wife you are,’ he commanded, his hand fisting my hair, guiding me forward. I opened wide, taking him in, my lips stretching around his girth. He tasted salty and masculine, filling my mouth as I bobbed my head, tongue swirling along the underside.