Shuffling through the papers on my boss’s desk, I groaned when I noticed the time.

We’d had a busy week, so all the filing had been left for late on Friday night. I stuffed one letter into a manila folder, made photocopies of receipts, and tried to sort the piles in order to more easily organize them.

Filing aside, my boss is rather meticulous. We’d recently finished a major project, and the paperwork situation had gotten more out of hand than usual. When I pulled a glossy magazine from beneath a pile of folders, I sucked in my breath. Not out of relief, but out of surprise. What was that? A filthy fetish magazine?

Why is this here? Because your boss is a kinky motherfucker, I thought.

I opened it up, and my heart pounded. There was a picture of a woman wearing leather. Her lover was stroking her naked pussy with a purple flogger. Suddenly forgetting the time, I settled into my boss’s chair and paged through the magazine slowly, reading the captions and looking at each dirty photograph.

For a second, I shut my eyes and imagined myself as the woman in the scene. I envisioned my handsome boss teasing me with a whip or tying my wrists together before working my pussy with his fingers and his tongue.

I know what I should have done. I should have locked the door before I started touching myself. Or I could have taken the magazine with me to the restroom and excused myself for a tiny bit of private time. But I didn’t because my legs had gone weak with want, and my whole body refused to behave.

Of course, the door to the office opened and my boss walked in. I shoved the magazine under the blotter and did my best to staple an innocent look on my face. I failed. My cheeks were definitely the color of cherries, and my pussy was as wet as a rain-soaked flower.

Mr. W didn’t say a word. He shut the door behind him and looked me up and down. The filing was forgotten. The corner of the magazine could be seen from under the blotter. Would I say something or would he?

“You could file that under ‘B’,” he said.

“‘B?’” I stammered.

“For bondage and discipline.” I nodded, my fingers inching toward the publication. But then he said, “Or ‘S’ for S&M. Or ‘K’ for Kink…”

The more he talked, the wetter my pussy became. “Or you could open it up on the desk, and we could look at the pages together.”

I chose the last option. It sounded like the most fun.

Mr. W stood next to me, and we took in the pages together. The model in one set had hair that was dark like mine. But unlike me, she was entirely naked and bound with glistening silver chains. Like me, her pussy was very, very wet.

As my eyes lingered on her image, my boss said, “That’s one of my favorites, too.”

“What do you like about it?” I managed to ask.

“The look on her face. Doesn’t she seem…”

“Transported,” I finished for him.

“Would you like to be?”

I didn’t answer with words. I swept everything off his desk, and then I stripped off my clothes. He took off his tie and wrapped it around my wrists. We weren’t able to recreate any of the photos exactly, lacking the proper equipment. But it was thrilling just the same. He pinched my clit and nipped at my thighs before unbuckling his belt and opening his slacks. I watched, enthralled, as he freed his hard cock.

Mr. W lifted my discarded panties to his nose and breathed in deeply. Then he told me to open my mouth, and he had me bite down on the damp undies.

“Keep them like that,” he said, “to muffle your cries.”

In my head I was babbling about wanting his dick in my pussy, but luckily, I had those panties in my mouth to keep me quiet.

Mr. W dragged his cock down the juicy seam between my pussy lips. I made a moaning sound that was only partially muffled by the panties. He pressed his cock right against my clit. I bucked and groaned. He backed away, and the look on his face made me want to work harder to stay quiet and still.

I’ve always done my best to give him what he needs on the job. I’d double my efforts for a fuck as sexy as this.

Finally, he let me feel his cock enter my hole. I held entirely still as he thrust his full length deep inside me. It was thrilling and filling. But I didn’t announce my overwhelming pleasure. I didn’t want to displease him with such disobedience.

Mr. W started to pound me. I pictured the woman in the magazine. In one of the shots, her cheeks had been bright pink and her eyes so wide and hungry. I had to guess I looked a lot like her — especially when my boss started to rub my clit in tandem with his thrusts.

This moment had been such a long time coming. Then I was coming, and so was he.

“He pressed his cock right against my clit. I bucked and groaned.”

After that, we did our best to clean up and put ourselves back together. But we were pretty disheveled.

“Let’s continue this at my place,” he said. “I think we need to work extra hard to get the job done right.”

That sounded like Mr. W. Meticulous in all of his tasks. And I was right on board, as always.

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