The energy in the room was high, as the celebration wrapped up. Pam had hand-picked ten of us to work on a new lucrative initiative for the bank. It took a year to put together and implement. This was our final meeting with the team, ending with a small bank-approved celebration.

“Way to go, everyone!” Pam said in her usual confident tone. “This was big and we exceeded every goal. Great teamwork!” Pam was a vice president at the bank and my boss for the last three years. She loved to be up in front as the center of attention, especially to give one of her pep talk speeches.

No one seems to mind when she’s up in front. She’s liked, and easy to look at. She’d never admit it, but I think she loves catching men or women stealing a second look, offering a wink as an added prize. At only 5’2”, she has a petite, fit body. She takes care of herself and clearly cares about her appearance. Her brunette hair falls past her shoulders, framing her tanned face and sparkling hazel eyes. Barely in proportion to the rest of her body, she has large, round tits and a great ass. Her ass and legs are usually accentuated by her just-barely-long-enough skirts and tall heels she likes to wear. She looks at least a dozen years younger than her early-fifties rumored age.

As a nice touch, Pam catered handmade specialty cupcakes as a celebratory thank you to end the meeting, from Katie’s Cakery. The cupcakes were almost as beautiful as the tall, blond caterer, a friend of Pam’s daughter Ashley. I smiled watching Mark, one of the team members do his best to hide his desire to sink more than his teeth into what she was offering. It didn’t help that the caterer wore a short, white, lace top that accentuated her braless 34Cs. Her small, jean shorts showcased her endless, fit legs. Her sparkling blue eyes and friendly, broad smile lit up the room.

“That’s it, everyone. Thanks again,” Pam announced, bringing the meeting and workday to an official close.

“Hey Pam, a few of us are headed to The Irish for drinks. Want to join us?” Brittany asked as she passed Pam on her way to the door. “We’re going to continue the party there.”

“I’d love to, but have something that needs my attention before I get out of here today.”

“Join us when you’re done.”

Pam smiled at the invitation. “Thanks, Brittany. Have one for me.”

Like a pied-piper, Brittany led a small group of us toward the door. I started to text my fiancé to meet me at The Irish, to join us for the party.

“Jefferson, before you leave, I want to get your eyes on something. Would you mind?” Pam asked.

“Not at all,” I answered as if I had a choice. I changed the text to my fiancé to “rall.” Over the last few months, it had become shorthand with my fiancé for “running a little late.” I had no doubt about what Pam wanted me to get my eyes on. I felt like Pavlov’s dog by the way my cock instantly responded to her request.

“Great. My office.”

Pam and I walked down the hall and took the elevator to the C-Level.  She stepped in front of the elevator camera as we ascended, hiding the view of her petite hand reaching back for a risky grope of the front of my pants. “It’s been a good day, celebrating our team win. There’s only one way to finish it right.”  She squeezed her fingers with a firm grip.

“Only seems right,” I answered.

Pam smiled.

“Mind if I ask you a question?” I asked, taking advantage of the moment of privacy.

“What is it?”

“I’ve noticed some layoffs in other areas of the bank. Any reason for me to be concerned?”

“There are cuts going on everywhere,” she admitted. “With the way this team performed though, I think everyone on it is safe. Of course, you get a bonus opportunity to perform to secure your place here,” she teased with another grasp of my crotch.

As we stepped out of the elevator, the executive level was vacated and mostly dark, except now for Pam’s office. “Close and lock the door,” she ordered, as I followed her in. She turned around and took off her blue suit coat, revealing an elegant, sheer white camisole. The small black strapless underwire shelf bra beneath displayed her mostly naked, ample, round tits impressively.  She had been waiting all day for this moment. She smiled lustfully at my brown eyes, then down my semi-muscular, six-foot body. “Fuck me like this win deserves,” she said.

I smiled back as I took my sports coat off and loosened my tie. I moved in, taking her in my arms, and leaned in to kiss her. She turned her head, averting the kiss, forcing my lips to settle for her neck. I pulled her top off and unzipped her short skirt down the back. The blue skirt dropped to the floor, leaving her in her sexy lace shelf bra, matching thong, and blue four-inch heels.

“Oh, fuck,” I said admiringly, at her nearly naked body. “Such a gorgeous whore.”  She made it clear in my first months of servicing her that her arousal always grows with dirty talk. It was something no one else at the bank had any way of knowing, except maybe her previous bosses.

“Then fuck me like one,” she shot back.

I turned her around and laid her over the large thick armrest of an oversized leather chair, adjacent to a matching couch. Her face was buried into the cushion. Her ass was up. I spanked it.

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” she said, her voice muffled by the leather.

I spanked her again as my feet spread her short, tan legs. Her perfect round small ass reddened with another, before moving my fingers down, past her asshole, to her already moist, warm pussy lips. Her ass gyrated at my touch. She had planned and waited for this part of the celebration all week, with intensifying anticipation all day. Her pussy betrayed her desire.

I stroked her soft folds, moving back and forth across the length of her womanhood.  Her ass gyrated from my touch, further pressing her clit against the firm armrest. I pulled the tiny lace between her ass cheeks over.

“Fuck, yes,” she repeated. “Faster.”

I obliged, responding to the movement of her body.

“Yes, like that!” her muffled voice demanded. “Harder!”

I caressed her small round ass while stroking her, occasionally intensifying her senses with another spank. Her body responded even more strongly than usual. She moaned. Her ass gyrated, as her body squirmed with pleasure.

At just the right moment, I pushed my two long middle fingers into her wet cunt.

“Oh, fuck!” she screamed. “Yes. Harder, Jefferson!”

I smiled, as my muscular fingers fucked her desperate pussy. As I did, her whole body moved back and forth with my piston-like motion. Her erect nipples rubbed against the smooth leather of the cushion, unprotected from the exposure of her shelf bra. Her arousal heightened from the stimulation.

“Oh fuck, I’m going to cum!” she squealed. Her petite tan body quaked. “Harder, Jefferson!”

I obliged.

Her ass instantly bucked on top of the thick armrest. My fingers and hands became drenched with her juices, only encouraging me to stretch her climax out.

While my right hand continued to fuck her, I reached up with the left to begin unbuttoning my shirt. I quickly unbuckled my belt and opened my pants, with impressive one-handed skill. As her climax quieted, I knew she was not done. Nor was I. I pulled my shirt off, and let my pants drop around my ankles. I kicked my shoes off. I pulled my boxers down and stepped out of both, removing my socks off with them. My cock stood hard and tall as a mast.

Pam was still breathing hard, catching her breath, strewn over the broad leather armrest.

I reached down and pinched her bra closure, causing the two straps to spring in both directions. I took hold of her hips and picked her up like a rag-doll, turning her so we were face to face.

She wrapped her legs playfully around my waist and offered a seductive bite of her lip. She knew exactly what I was going to do next.

I pulled her in close, allowing her full, sweaty tits to press against my naked chest. I slowly lowered her, letting us both enjoy the feel of our bodies against each other until her drenched pussy hit the top of my waiting cock.

“Fuck me,” she whispered with a strong tone in my ear.

I pushed my bulbous head into the opening of her womanhood before lowering her to plunge the entire length of my cock into her.

We both moaned loudly at the glorious penetration. Her pussy tightened to clench my shaft. I moved my large hands under each of her ass cheeks, taking a firm grip, strongly moving her body up and down.

Pam wrapped her arms around my neck to hold on. “Oh yes, Jefferson. That’s fucking incredible. Don’t stop.”

I smiled back, with no intention of stopping. Instead, I sped up, intensifying the pleasure. Both of our heated bodies misted with sweat, pressed and sliding against each other,

“Oh fuck, I’m going to cum again! I’m going to cum! Oh fuck, I’m cumming!” Pam’s back arched naturally, as she often does when climaxing. Her eyes glazed over.

I continued to fuck my boss, as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her body trembled uncontrollably. Cold chills dotted her skin.

“Fuck, that was good!” She complimented, still breathing hard as my pace slowed. “I don’t remember one better.”

My own climax was fast approaching. I knew from previous fucks, that she didn’t want me to cum inside her. I wondered if this time might be different, celebrating the team win. I wondered if this might be different, experiencing one of the best fucks of her life. I wanted to fill her with my spunk.

Pam looked at my face, as I continued to use her. “Don’t you dare cum inside me, Jefferson.”

I had my answer, but continued, unaffected. The climax grew dangerously close.

“You fucking better not cum in me,” she said, doing her best to remove my cock buried deep inside her. It was difficult for her petite body, with me standing, holding her in position.

I knew that the moment would be amazing, but the long-term risk and implications were too great. I dutifully pulled out and set her down on the armrest in front of me, her back against the seat back. I pressed in against her, burying my nine inches between her sweaty ample breasts. “Oh fuck, that feels good,” I confessed.

She pressed her tits together, holding my dick in, but then warned, “Don’t you dare cum on me, either.” Her admonition was consistent with previous limits. She was not my fuck toy, I was hers. She remained the boss, even, or especially when we fucked.

I was already close, and her tits were quickly bringing me past the point of no return. “Oh fuck!” I cried.

“Don’t you fucking cum on me, or I’ll can you. Give me your sock,” she ordered, seeing how close I was.

I dutifully reached down and picked up one of my socks. Pam sheathed my cock in the sock and stroked it with both hands, twisting with each ascent. It only took two or three strokes before starting to empty thick loads of cum into the soft fabric condom. My knees bent as she continued, tormenting me with post-orgasm torture. My hands moved in to rescue my dick.

“Ah, ah,” she said. “Hands down.” Her look was devious. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Oh fuck,” I cried.

She continued to torment me for a couple of minutes before releasing my cock. Cum seeped through the soft fabric, while most of it pooled inside.

“A little souvenir for you,” Pam said as she stood. She leaned down and picked up my boxers, drying her drenched pussy with them. “This too,” she winked, dropping the boxers back onto my pants. “That’s how you celebrate a win.”

I debated whether to text my fiancé to meet up at The Irish, for the party or to go home first, for a quick shower. Either way was a risk, heightened by the fact I was no longer wearing socks, and the intimate aroma of Pam covered my boxers. This special assignment was complicating my life.

I admit, like many times, that fuck with Pam was amazing. It’s clear she has a lot of experience. It’s also quite clear she’s pleased with my side of our agreement. As good as it is, I couldn’t shake her threatening words at the end. The sound of her warning, “Don’t you fucking cum on me, or I’ll can you,” echoed in my mind. I couldn’t shake it. We had a good working relationship. Would she really fire me? Did she just say that, unthinking, in the heat of passion? Would she kick me to the curb? This arrangement was all her idea! As I pondered it, I realized it was most likely just an empty throw-away comment in the ecstasy of the moment. Yet, I also realized I was the dispensable one. She had all the power. I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I’m often the first one in the office, and the last one out, especially since working more “closely” with Pam. My choice of arriving early makes me more productive when the office is quiet. Staying late is usually at Pam’s request with her promise to fast-track my career. Almost all of my new special assignment encounters with her take place in the privacy of her office. I decided to take a simple harmless step as protection. Early one Friday, I planted two tiny cloud-based cameras, offering full view and audio to her office. The content is encrypted. I only turn them on when I know I will be alone with her, using an app on my phone. I was confident I would never need the insurance footage but felt better knowing it was there. Who knows, I might even give the clips to Pam as a memento of our special arrangement months or years from now when my special assignment comes to an end.

Early the next Monday morning, a computer ping interrupted my deep concentration at my desk.  The calendar notification slid from the right and lingered on my screen, waiting for a response.
______________________________________________

Weekly Review Meeting (Mandatory)

Friday at 4:30 pm, weekly

Convener: Pam                                                                  

ACCEPT     REJECT
______________________________________________

A knowing smile formed across my face. How can simple, routine calendar notification so easily elicit arousal? I quickly looked left, then right, as if uneasy someone might see the innocent-looking, appointment request.  It was an ordinary meeting notification by a boss to her employee. But, I knew better. There was nothing ordinary about this calendar invite because the boss was Pam, and the employee was me. It now sanctioned the new pattern of how Pam liked to finish her work week. I clicked ACCEPT.

The speaker phone on my desk chimed. “Jefferson?”

“I looked down at the lit-up red speaker light. It was the familiar voice of my boss.

“Yes, Pam. Got your calendar invite and just sent it back. I have the meetings locked in.”

“Saw that. Thanks, Jefferson. They will be important to finish every week well.”

I smiled, knowing Pam was choosing her words carefully, for anyone who might overhear.

“Your quick reply is how I knew you were there.”

“Of course,” I said. “I’m always here.”

“I need your help on something. Come to my office please.”

“On my way.”  I took the elevator up to the C-level wondering what she had in mind this early in the work day. It was impossible to know if it was related to actual bank services or servicing her, as she says, to keep her at the top of her game.

“Close the door,” she said, as I passed the threshold of her executive office, “and lock it.”

I had my answer. I turned and willingly locked the door, part of me wondering how I got myself in this situation. The other part was glad I did.