Encounter: Doin' the Boss, a Strange Love Story

by mattwatt

Copyright© 2012 by mattwatt

Romantic Sex Story: Catherine Shaw, the boss, is the goal of one of her workers, Jess Sawyer; Jess goes to strange lengths to establish a relationship with her but wins in the end.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Brother   Sister   Light Bond   Interracial   Black Female   White Male   Oral Sex   .


Catherine got to the garage later than she usually did. At this time of day there was no one there, as she went to the lower level where she habitually parked her car. There was a kind of eeriness to it for her. The only sound was her heels as they clacked on the pavement, while she walked toward her car.

She forced herself, her mind or I guess imagination, to stop trying to play tricks, tricks about lurkers and muggers and all. It even caused her to smile a bit and just barely suppress a giggle.

It was a matter of her 'game', as she thought of it but this empty garage was no place to initiate the game. That was her message to herself. She made an internal promise to think about it later, make this walk, this solitary walk mentally later and then she'd play with herself and enjoy the big bad men or muggers or rapers who'd inhabit the fantasy. She play it later. That was her promise, as she approached her car.

He stepped out from behind the pillar by her car, by the front fender, and it surprised her enough that she only barely suppressed a kind of shout in her throat.

"Ohhhhhh!" she said, and stepped back a few steps from the driver's door, by which he had been lurking.

Of course this had the effect of putting her out of the range of her best defense, getting into the car.

She tried to calm herself and prepare for a kind of defense, and with all the will that she could muster she said:


In a whispery voice he said: "Hi!"

"What?" she asked again and only got a low voiced chuckle from him. It sent chills up and down her spine.

"Name?" he asked softly.

"Catherine," she said, not knowing for sure why she complied so readily.

"Lovely Catherine!" he said.

He stood a little taller than Catherine's 5'10"; he wore an evil looking hood, kind of a ski mask thing, that made his unwanted presence even more sinister than it might have otherwise been.

"A real black beauty!" he said softly and watched her.

"Does that offend you, calling you that?" he asked.

She was surprised by the question.

"No, that doesn't offend me," she said, "You being here with that mask, and that knife, they offend me."

He chuckled.

"What are you going to do?" she asked. "I have a martial arts belt!"

"Good," he said, "Game changer; I'll use this."

He pulled an evil looking pistol out of the back of his pants waist band.

"Ohhh," she said.

"You're going to?" she asked, striving for some clarity, and not even knowing what it was important, since his intentions seemed obvious.

"I want a blow job," he said. "A black beauty blow job!"

"Bow job!?" she repeated. "Only?"

"Yes," he said. "Time and all. A blow job, only."

It was then that she decided. She realized right away that she was going to do this. She had mace in her purse; she hadn't been kidding about her martial arts training but she made her decision.

"Kneel," he said.

"Yes," was her response.

She knew that that was the way that it should happen, with her kneeling. As she went to her knees, her mind went into a kind of fugue of memory.

Blow job! Wasn't that the way that it always was? Her memory raced ahead of her, taking her back to those places. Where she'd been raised and lived.

It had all started with her brother Evan. She remembered the night itself. Her Mom was working, a night shift at the place where she cleaned to keep her three kids in what they needed.

"Evan, what you want?" she'd asked upset that her sleep had been disturbed.

"Just kind of restless, little Cathie," he said.

"Why you comin' in here with your restless?" she asked.

He smiled: "Because my lovely little Cathie sister can help."

"What you mean, help?" she asked then.

He smiled and began to run his finger over her lips.

"What you doin'?" she asked and giggled as she did.

"Cathie likes that," Evan said.

"Ticklin'," was her answer, though to herself she actually admitted that she did like the attention that he was giving her.

"Thought you was out with that Rita," she said.

"Was and she didn't treat Evan very nicely," he said, "Only teased and no sugar."

"Sugar?" she asked suspicious.

"You know, Pretty Cathie," he said, "Sugar with your mouth, nice things!"

"Evan!" she said and giggled again at the very thought.

There was certainly no lack of sex education among the group of them and they were 'grab assing' her all the time, since she passed her last birthday, getting older and all.

"Come on, Pretty Cathie," he said, "How 'bout some of Pretty Cathie's sugar?"

"Evan, ain't no way that I'll let you do me," she said.

"Know that, Pretty Cathie," he said, "Just want some lip sugar."

"Evan, if I agree to that, it's all that I do, ever," she said.

"Of course," he said, "I know that; you're my sister but there's no harm in a little lip sugar for Evan."

There was silence in the room but she finally said: "Okay."

She realized, as she said it, that she liked the idea. It had been rolling around in her head for such a while, doing such things and she often wondered, when she heard her girl friends talk about doin' 'lip sugar' for a boy, what it might be like.

"What you want then?" she asked next.

"Out of bed, Pretty Cathie," he said, and she slid out of bed.

"Look pretty in that night shirt, Cathie," he said.

"Not taking my clothes off, Evan," she said in her next protest.

"No, that's okay," he said, and told her to kneel.

That's how it started and it was always with her kneeling. The position had to be right, it seemed. But Cathie wasn't prepared for how much she liked giving the 'lip sugar'. She never could explain it, apart from the admission to only a few that she was 'very oral'.

She knelt for Evan and grabbed his erection, when he produced it. It surprised her to see how long it was.

She learned with Evan, for once she gave in and knelt to give him a blow job, it became a fairly regular thing.

But Evan told Jimmy, her other older brother, and one night Jimmy came to call, when she was in bed.

"Cathie," he called out, waking her.

"Jimmy, what you want?" she asked, sleepy.

"What you do for Evan," he said.

"Ohhh," she moaned, "He told you."

"He did," Jimmy said. "Why don't you just get out here and kneel and show me how it is."

It went that way, for a time. Evan and Jimmy were pleased to have a resident cock sucker, as they loved to call her. For her part, she was exploring and trying to find out why she liked the position of kneeling, the silky hardness of an erection in her hand or in her mouth, why it appealed. She didn't really know, she just knew that she liked doing it.

Of course, this was Evan and Jimmy that she was dealing with and that meant, almost naturally that it would get out of hand. She was wary about that.

It did. They brought two friends over one night and all of them cornered Cathie in the kitchen. The one friend, who was smarmy, as far as Cathie was concerned, announced to everyone that after getting blow jobs from the 'ho', they were all going to get laid.

That's when Cathie got the frying pan. In the end it was a concussion for the smarmy one and a broken wrist for the other one before the fray settled.

In that altercation, Cathie was able to see her future flash in front of her and there was no joy in it, only abuse and continued problems.

She announced to Evan and Jimmy shortly after that, in no uncertain terms, that her mouth was private and the rest of her was definitely out of bounds for them. They took it well, especially having witnessed the fray in the kitchen and how well she'd handled herself in that instance.

That was when she began to distance herself from her family. Academics became her main interest, almost a mania. She knew that was the key to any kind of future for her. She also began to take a martial arts class, progressing very nicely, as she continued to work on it.

The future wasn't good for her family. When she was a year out of high school, working hard at various jobs, waitressing, and nights in a convenience store, her momma died of 'the consumption'. Jimmy went shortly after that in a neighborhood drive by but by then she was just gone.

Once Cathie had gotten to college, she never looked back at all. She'd packed away her strange love of performing oral sex and concentrated on athletics and academics. She'd grown and loved playing basketball for the school.

There was, however, the interlude with Sherman, who seemed to be all cock and attitude, and for a time, a short time, but an intense time, she went back to being the 'oral girl'. Sherman, however, turned out to be an Evan or Jimmy only in disguise.

At that point Cathie, lovely though she was, with her long legs, hefty breasts, and flaring hips and rounded butt, left the men alone and went on a career track, that now left her, Catherine Shaw, at the top of her part of the corporate ladder at 33 years of age.

It was the last great sexual adventure, at least until now, she thought, going to her knees.

Cathie was surprised at how it actually felt, getting down on her knees again in front of a man. She hadn't expected to be so pleased by the possibility. It made her smile, which seemed to confuse him.

"What?" he asked, noticing her smile.

"Gimme the goods!" she said, pleased with herself, giving herself the message:

"Top of the corporate ladder; huge salary; lovely home and here you are again on your knees waiting for a man to fill your mouth with his thing!" It made her giggle and then he'd unzipped his fly and there it was.

It had been quick and unexpected but she was transported, taken back or forward, she wasn't really too sure but the tingle was there and she gripped the erection with her hand and then began to do what she knew how to do.

She licked the head all around and then, lifting it up, nipped at the underside of the head, making him kind of tremble and moan. Then it was suck the head into her mouth and use her tongue all around the crown, especially pushing the tongue against the crown's underside. But she knew where she was going.

For next came the main event. She, in one motion, switched her hands to his hips and plunged her mouth downward until she had the entire cock in her mouth, pushing against the back of her throat.

"Whoa!" he wailed, his back kind of straightening and his knees flexing, as she moved her mouth up and off of the big erection again, only to make the same kind of assault one more time.

She did an alternation then. It was suck and lick at the crown and make the plunge and take it all in. She alternated that with a head bob that had her, with tightened lips, effectually jerking him off with her lips.

"Oh, shit, woman!" he cried. "Black beauty fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He came on one of her mouth plunges, grabbing her head and keeping himself deep into her mouth until he was finished. She kept the cock in her mouth then and only let it out, once it was clean.

It as then that she came back to the situation in the parking garage, only then realizing that she'd been in a kind of an altered state, where the sucking and the history for her behind it had sent her.

She rocked back on her heels and couldn't suppress her grin.

"What the fuck was that?" he said, his arm sagging at his side and the knife and gun both put away.

"Fucked you with my mouth!" she said softly and with a certain amount of glee.

"You go now, Mr Mugger," she said, and he did.

She gave him time before getting up and going to her car.

She sat in the car for a few moments to orient herself and talked to herself, trying vainly to suppress the grin:

"That was bad, Cathie," she said severely.

An inner voice, that strove for truth even when she didn't want it replied:

"No that was really, really good!"

She mused to herself then: "Forgot how that could feel, taste; forgot the excitement of doing it."

She laughed out loud then and said: "Oral girl! Welcome back"

Then it was the outrageous inner voice again:

"Maybe he'll be here tomorrow, after work."

She giggled and told herself to stop. She looked around in vain, as she drove out of the garage. One sight impressed itself on her mind; she didn't know why. It was a long cut in the side of 'his' work boots, as though slashed with a knife. She remembered seeing it, as she knelt giving the blow job.

The shower felt good, when she got home and Cathie felt kind of loose and pleased with herself, letting her hands wander down to her pubic hair and pussy, during the shower, and reliving the scene in the garage that had surprised and pleased her so much, inexplicably.

"Just don't go there and overanalyze this!" the inner truth voice said, giving advice.

She put on a pair of skin tight black stretch pants, then so much in vogue, and a black, flowing top over that. She liked the way that she looked and took herself out to a favorite restaurant for dinner.

There were a few there from work and she exchanged greetings with them but they made no move to join her or ask her to join them. At work she was basically a no nonsense person and it carried over. Cathie simply settled down and enjoyed her dinner.


She was even chipper at work the next day.

"You're pretty pleased with yourself, boss," Andrea, her assistant/secretary, commented during their normal morning meeting.

"Just in a good mood is all," she smiled.

And she realized that she was in fact in a good mood, despite the fact that yesterday's encounter was potential dangerous. It had, in fact, turned her on and was lodged in her memory.

"Ready for some gossip?" Andrea asked with a sly grin.

"Always!" Cathie said eagerly.

"Overheard a conversation in the cafeteria yesterday. It seems that you have a secret or not so secret admirer," Andrea went on.

"Oh, tell!" Cathie said.

"Now don't you get mad about this. It's Jess down in shipping," Andrea said then.

"Hmm, Jess Sawyer," Cathie said with a giggle.

But then Andrea's next statement halted Cathie in her tracks:

"Yes, and he called you, are you ready... ?"

"Yes, go on, go on," Cathie said enthusiastically.

"Black Beauty!" Andrea said and giggled.

Cathie was struck, rooted to her seat and only managed to get herself under control with effort and join in the giggling with Andrea.

"It's not really the color thing or the race thing," Cathie said, "But the fact that the name is that of a horse!"

Andrea went into a trail of giggles at that.

"Maybe he's looking for a brood mare!" she said, barely getting it out for laughing.

"All right," Cathie said, holding up her hand, "Enough foolery! Work!"

"Work?" Andrea said with disgust, "You're no fun."

"On the contrary,"Cathie said, "I'm all sorts of fun but we have work to do."

But it was on her mind for the rest of the day. She shifted it around and around in her mind. She often shook her head at the 'method' that, if it were Jess, he'd chosen to get to her. But she needed to simply see.

She was deep in that reflection, late in the day, when she made her way to her car. She was thinking about the 'brood mare' idea and doing a run through again, when she was startled as he stepped out from behind a pillar.

The thought grazed her mind that she should stop parking by the pillar but then she focused.

"You!" she said softly.

"Me!" he said.

"How's Black Beauty today?" he asked.

"A little tired," was her answer. "Looking forward to home and shower and maybe dinner out."

"Time for my favorite past time?" he asked, a bit more sure of himself than he had been the evening before.

"Blow job?" she asked.

"Blow job," he said.

"Me kneeling?" she asked.

"No, something else first," he said and she only looked at him.

Cathie didn't understand what put her in this 'zone', as she saw it. She wasn't sure if it were a reaction to this man, or if it were her being transported back to or forward to her 'oral girl' phase but it was there and she was going to do what she was told, even if it be against who she thought she might be at that time in her life. This was as though something new were beginning. She didn't know if she should fear it or hope in it.

"Raise your skirt to your waist," he said.

"Skirt to my waist," she answered.

"Yes!" he said.

She did it. She slowly raised her tight, a-line skirt to her waist, showing her pantyhose and a pair of delicate, lacy beige panties.

"Pantyhose, no!" he said, a bit of disgust in his voice.

He approached her then and had the knife out again.

"What?" she asked, getting ready to defend herself.

He hooked the knife blade inside the pantyhose and ripped them. He didn't finish until the panty hose were in tatters.

"Take them off," he said. "You're too beautiful to hide that way. No pantyhose!"

He looked at her and shook his head: "Wear pantyhose and I'll spank you."

Her eyes widened at what he said but she shook her head 'yes' in compliance.

She realized that this was getting more and more bizarre, here in the parking garage but she did as she was told, and it made a kind of impression. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice was affirming the 'no pantyhose' thing.

Then the pantyhose were gone. Her skirt was still around her waist, showing both her lacy, beige panties and the nest of her pubic hair.

"Lovely!" he said. "Turn around, slowly," he said to her then, after gaping at her for a few minutes.

She did as she was told. She was in that zone and had decided that she'd cooperate, if this happened today. She turned slowly, showing her ass, her naked ass to him. It seemed to be what he wanted.

"Bend from the waist," he said softly.

She bent over, as he'd told her. Now her butt cheeks were pressing against the beige material of her panties and making an uncommonly great sight.

"Fantastic," he said, and hesitated, watching her.

"Now, give me your panties!" he said next.

"Panties, yes," she said.

It was as though Cathie were gone and a new person taken her place, more compliant and, for the first time in a long, long time, totally turned on!

She slipped the panties down and off, noticing, once again the cut in his boot that she was going to remember. She handed the panties to him and he said a soft:

"Thank you."

She nodded and waited.

"You kneel," he said.

"Of course!" she echoed, and, this time it being no surprise to her, after all her thinking and understanding the way that it turned her on, went to her knees and waited for him.

"You get it; do the work," he said.

Cathie was in a kind of trance state again and whispered: "Yes, I do the work!"

And she did, much as she had the day before. This time the past didn't rear its head, and Evan and Jimmy and all were silent. This time it was only Cathie giving in to what she was once again aware of as a treat for her.

She didn't have to call back up memories of performance as she had yesterday; today she just waded into the task, made, for her right then, hotter by his demand that she be exposed, naked from the waist down.

She'd talk to herself about this later; think about it later; worry about it later; brood over it later but for right now, Cathie was doing what she'd anticipated for the entire day. She was on her knees, at first she was holding his erection in her hand, as she worked over the crown and then, as before she grabbed him by the hips, sliding her hands around to his butt cheeks and began to really fairly swallow him.

She brought him with a great sigh and throat noises and she settled back on her heels and waited.

"Wait, as I leave," he said.

"Yes," was her reply, and she waited.

He stopped twice to look back at her, as he left. After he stopped to gaze back at her the first time, she thought and stood up, not adjusting her skirt. When he looked back the second time, she stood there displaying her nakedness, feeling wanton and excited. She slowly turned around and then displayed her ass cheeks to him. He nodded and walked away.

She went home and had a bath. She sat, luxuriated in the tub and thought about it all. It was being fairly overwhelming. She didn't know why it didn't seem to be dangerous to her, especially today. She was totally surprised about how quickly the past surfaced and she was suddenly face to face with her former practices and desires.

"Oral girl is back," she said to herself.

"So it seems," was her answer.

But then she began to talk to herself, to think about consequences.

"You need to do something," she said, "Giving blow jobs in a garage might be a one or two off but it can't continue."

She shook her head slowly in agreement and decided that she would indeed take steps to stop it from happening again. But that left her hanging, still excited about this resurgence in her sexuality. She left it there and decided on an outing for a drink instead of dinner immediately.


Cathie went to the same tavern as last night, after her talk and shower. She dressed in exactly the opposite from the previous night. Tonight it was tight white pants and a flowing white over blouse, with heeled sandals. The outfit set off the coffee color or her skin marvelously, and the white top was more transparent than the black one from the night before, giving anyone interested and watching, a good view of the play of her butt cheeks under her white, stretch pants, as she walked. Finished off by the tight curly hair on her head, leaving her not quite bald but nearly so, Cathie was a true sight.

As she entered, she was surprised to see a gang from work at a large round table off to the side. They were talking animatedly and laughing. Cathie was pleased to see that Andrea was there also.

"Cheese it everybody," Andrea called out, "It's the big boss lady!"

As Cathie walked, smiling, toward where Andrea was beckoning her, she also noticed that, among the guys there from shipping, Jess Sawyer was there. She approached the table and was welcomed, some of the guys even stood as she approached.

"Hey, everyone," she said.

Andrea had a seat saved for her, and she went around to it. Jess Sawyer was sitting two chairs away. She did some hand shaking all around the table, with affable greetings for everyone, including Jess Sawyer.

Since Andrea had mentioned him and the 'Black Beauty' issue, she'd looked up his work record. He was head of their shipping department and apparently very, very good at what he did. His record indicated that he was 26 years old, not married and had worked with them for about a year. She also remembered that at the time that he came to work for them, he was considered a real find.

All of this was filed in her mind, along with the indelible pictures of him and the ski mask, telling her, demanding that she raise her skirt, him shredding her panty hose and then telling her to take her panties down and off. It certainly wasn't going to go away quickly, that photo stream. She knew that. She also knew by this time that she didn't want it to go away quickly but wasn't exactly sure about what to do next with the whole thing. She still was determined to shift the whole encounter thing, and stop giving blow jobs in the parking garage. The rest, for now, she didn't know about, wasn't sure of.

After a quick thought, Cathie dropped her coat, which she was carrying and, as she picked it up, noticed the same cut in Jess Sawyer's work boot that she'd been looking for.

"Hmm, the masked man!" she said to herself. "And he's gorgeous!"

She sat then and joined the lively conversation, buying the next round in the process.

They were all good enough friends and the relationships at work were good enough, under Cathie's direction and with her encouragement, that their conversation and the good humor of it continued as it had been, when she walked in.

They didn't talk about work. There was one question from the group about the progress that was made in negotiations for a contract with some firms in Japan. She was pleased to tell them that the negotiations were concluded and that they were getting the business.

Then she said that it wasn't necessary to talk about work simply because she was there.

They laughed appreciatively at that.

"The boss isn't insisting on being the boss," Jess said.

She caught what she knew was the double intent of what he was saying and, grinning said that that was certainly the case, hoping that no one else knew enough to pick up on what he'd said.

They sat and had one more round and then all decided to break up and head off. Cathie asked Andrea to join her for dinner someplace and the two of them were off.

Over dinner, Andrea said: "Did you see the way that Jess looked at you?"

Cathie giggled.

"It was almost a visual assault!" Andrea said. "But you look smokin' tonight!"

"Thank you, pal!" Cathie said.

They talked about other things but Andrea returned to how much Jess seemed to be attracted to 'the boss' a number of times, and the giggled about it each time.

"You've got to give yourself a break and get social," Andrea said.

"I'm working on it," Cathie said, putting her hand over Andrea's and thanking her for the encouragement.

They had a pleasant evening and parted with hugs and cheek kisses.

Cathie spent a good amount of time thinking about the issue and slowly developed a design for what she was going to do. She decided that she'd do it at work the next day.

The work day, the next day, was normal. She put her plan into effect later in the day. Just as Andrea was about to go home, Cathie called her in and said:

"Andrea I need to have the shipping manifests for the past month. I need them to complete his report. Will you call down and have them sent up?"

She was banking on the fact that Jess Sawyer would bring them up.

"Sure, boss," she said, making the call.

Then she went back into Cathie's office and said: "Jess is bringing them up. Thought he would."

She was grinning as she said it.

"Okay, Ms Matchmaker," Cathie said then, "Go home!"

"I guess this is going to make his day," she said, blowing an air kiss to Cathie as she exited from the office.

It was indeed Jess Sawyer who knocked on her door a few minutes later. She had already checked and knew that the office wing of the building was empty. She'd set the door to lock, so that they'd be locked in there, once he arrived.

He brought the manifests and handed them to her.

"You wanted these?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you, Jess," she said and he turned to go.

It was then that she put her plan into motion; she had no idea how it would play out but she had screwed up her courage and said:

"Oh, Jess,"

He turned and smiled and she said softly: "Those were my favorite panties; I'd like to have them back."

He looked stunned for just a few seconds and nodded his head, and left.

She was mystified and didn't know what to do next; didn't know if anything was going to happen or not. Soon, however, there was a knock on her door, and she called out for whoever it was to come in.

She was startled. It was Jess again but now he was wearing the ski mask.

It was almost as if that was the key, the thing that was needed to get it all started again.

What it was for her that pushed her into what he had in mind was the outrageousness of it. His coming back with the mask on was outrageous. What he did after that was outrageous. It had gone, right then far beyond her rediscovery of her love of oral sex. It was much more like a capture, like an assault with her the captive to be taken away and simply dealt with. These were the emotions that were flooding her at the moment and for the immediate time to come. Had she known what he was going to do, she would have been immediately happy to comply.

"Stand up," he said.

She stood; it had begun again. What's more, she knew that she wanted it to start again. She stood and she waited. But on a quick impulse, she went to where he was standing and looking at her. She grabbed the ski mask and pulled it up and off. But the reason became apparent quickly, it was so that she could kiss him.

She plastered herself against him, as they kissed and felt his hand immediately as it ran down the middle of her back to her ass cheeks.

"Oh, yes," he said, "Black Beauty and then some."

She leaned back and looked at him, watching his eyes glow as he looked at her. She waited. She knew that the spell wasn't broken and he'd tell her soon what to do.

"You magnificent fucker!" she said explosively. "The balls, the gall to do what you've done..."

"Take your clothes off," he said.

That stopped her cold: the tone of his voice, what he was demanding that she do. It was shocking, it was delicious; she was fairly caught.

"Everything?" she asked softly.

"That's what I said," was his answer.

"Yes," she said, " Everything off! Right away."

She knew then that she was going to strip naked for him and let him do what he wanted to. The possibilities for the situation simply overwhelmed her like a sensuous wave of feeling. It felt so nice to be back to being a sexual woman again.

"We're fine here?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, as her hand moved to the top button on her blouse, she having already removed her suit jacket. "When I have my door locked no one bothers me for any reason. It's the way we operate."

"Good," he said, "Then it's the way we'll operate here now."

"Yes," she agreed.

She was unbuttoning her blouse, having gotten it unbuttoned to the waist band of her skirt. Her lacy soft pink bra now showed through the gap in the lapels of her blouse.

"Pink!" he said.

"Yes, pink today, not beige!"

"I liked that! Beige!" he said.

"I know!" she said softly and pulled the blouse out of the skirt.

She was concentrating on unbuttoning her sleeves.

"Watch me! Keep your eyes on me!" he demanded.

"Yes, of course! I will!" she agreed and continued to unbutton her sleeves but with her eyes burning into his.

One sleeve was unbuttoned and she reached across for the other one.

"You are so fucking lovely!" he said.

"Thank you," was her soft reply.

"Didn't know how to reach you or if I even could!" he said.

"Took a chance," was her reply as now the other sleeve was unbuttoned and she slowly took the blouse down and off of her shoulders.

"Yes, a chance!" he said. "Worked out!"

"Yes," she agreed.

"You are the most erotic person that I've ever seen in any situation!" he said.

"You say nice things!" she said, folding the blouse and setting it on top of her folded suit jacket.

"I love the way you take care of your clothes!" he said.

"Thank you!" she almost whispered.

"How now? What next?" she wanted to know.

"Skirt next," he said, "I want to see you first in your underwear only."

She reached for the button and zipper at the back of her skirt. She remembered then and said:

"No pantyhose."

"Good," was his reply, "You've learned."

"I have!" she said, as the skirt sagged from being unbuttoned and the zipper made a soft swishing sound, as it was pulled down.

She stared at him, taking in his smile, an almost victorious grin, with her hands on either side of the skirt that was falling down. She moved her hips with a quick kind of twitch and the skirt went down and beyond her hips, revealing, at first slowly, and then suddenly clearly, her matching pink, bikini panties.

"Ooooooo goddddddd!" he said, watching her take the skirt off.

She was a bit off balance and he reached out an arm to steady her, as she stepped out of the skirt, and taking it, folded it to put with her other clothes. She was wearing thigh high stockings.

"Love the stockings!" he said.

"Thank you," she said, "You say such nice things!"

She stopped again then and said: "Please tell me! What do you wish?"

"Turn around first," he said. "Very slowly."

"Yes," she replied, "Very slowly."

She did as she was told, putting herself obviously on display in the process and it made her breathing harder and faster and she felt her pulse quickening at the same time.

Finally, she was facing him again.

"Bra!" he said, having made his decision.

She smiled, loving this, even loving the question in her mind about what he was going to do. She undid the back catch on her bra and let it slide down her arms, holding it in her hands at last and folding it also.

Then she stood up and let her large breasts, 38c, thrust out at him.

"Not even this naked last time!" she said.

"No not even," he agreed.

"Panties next," he said, "Leave the stockings on; they will frame your pussy so nicely."

"Yes, panties next and stockings left on," she repeated after him.

He lent her his arm again, as she was off balance to take her panties down and off. She did it slowly, letting the mystery of her pubic hair come into view only slowly. He loved the sight of it the last time, he knew, and loved the sight of it this time also, the tight curls of her pubic hair, and the promise of sensuous lips that lay within the nest of the hair.

"Fine, really fine!" he said.

"Thank you," she answered and waited for him again.

"Turn slowly," he told her one more time.

She did, letting him see all of her nakedness.

"Bend from the waist!" was his next order and she did that too.

"Now, Ms Catherine Shaw, Big Boss, Black Beauty, use your hands; pry your ass cheeks apart; show me your ass, all of it!"

She did this too, the soft feelings swept over her, almost like a forced humiliation but she realized at the same time that she was going to do whatever was demanded of her. The flood gates of her long, personally enforced celibacy were open and she was simply feeling wanton.

"Good," he said, "Now we'll play!"

"Request, please?" she asked.

"Yes?" he said softly.

"Kiss and hug first!" she pleaded.

"Kiss first," he said and went to her.

He stepped back then and made a further decision: "No, take off your stockings. I think that's important."

"Stockings off, yes," she said.

Still he held her and said: "I want you only, totally naked, not still classy and sophisticated in those marvelous stockings. For now, I want only a naked you here."

She smiled at him and sat down. Slowly, never taking her eyes off of him, she rolled the stockings down and off, one leg first and then the other. She shook them out, when they were individually off and folded them with the rest of her clothes.

Then she was ready; she was sure of it. She was ready.

He went to her then; he had one more thing to say before he began the games that he had planned.

"This might be the only chance I have to do this, to play with you, with you all naked and beautiful. Even if this never happens again, even if you have a reaction and don't want me near you again, this is something, a scene that I'll take with me for the rest of my life. I'm going to do things," he made it like a declaration, and that's the way that she received it.

"Yes," she said, "I have left this part of me behind, behind so long ago. But that's another story."

"For another time," he said.

"Yes," she agreed for another time.

"I'm going to play with you now," he said.

"Yes," she agreed, looking up into his eyes.

"I've done this every time I've had my hand on my cock ever since I've come to work here," he said. "You being the boss, and so good at it, as everyone around here knows, makes it incredibly hot, and that says nothing at all about your almost blinding beauty!"

"Ohhh," she sighed.

"Stay here," he said.

"Yes," was her response.

He went to the side of the office where there was a table used to spread out plans. He tinkered with it, and the top of the table came off easily, leaving the structure of the table only. It had a bar across the top and half way down at the bottom of the structure and rested on large 'feet'. He took the table and brought it to the middle of the room.

"Here," he said to her and she went to where he had indicated.

He pushed her until her naked stomach pressed up against the metal of the table structure.

"Stand here," he said; she did.

He went then and got a bag that he had with him. Going over to where she stood by the table structure, he knelt down and pulled from the bag two sets of hand cuffs. With one he cuffed her ankle to one side of the table structure and with the other he cuffed her other ankle to the other side.

She simply stared at him. He was smiling and pleased.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said.

"I almost don't care!" was her answer, making him chuckle.

When he had her ankles fastened to the table structure, he reached in the bag and produced two more sets of hand cuffs.

"Bend," he said, putting his hand in the middle of her back and bending her over the bar at the top of the table structure.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, as he took one hand and cuffed it to the bottom bar of the table structure.

When he was finished, he had her splayed out over the table structure.

"Better and better!" he said, moving around so that she could see him.

"Do you know what my first instinct is?" he asked.

"Tell me, please," she said.

"This!" he said and slapped her naked, upwardly exposed ass hard.

"Ohhhhhhhhh!" she groaned, and he slapped her ass one more time.

Cathie had moved into a part of her mind that she normally reserved only for herself. She approached that kind of state all those years ago with Evan and Jimmy, and it had scared her. It never went away but she never went there with other people. She was hard pressed then to explain how easy it had been to give in to this man but that had indeed been the case. The best that she could say at the time was that she'd think about it. She knew one thing above all: right then she was deeply into what he was doing to her, her position, her nakedness, all of it. She couldn't remember being so turned on, not ever, not even during that first oral time with Evan all those years ago.

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