Dictation with DavisJanuary 5, 2009
9 am. I slip into the boss’s office and kneel on the floor – legs spread, palms upturned on my thighs, eyes on the floor – waiting for today’s instructions. I wait patiently while he first finishes a phone call, then writes and files some notes, then checks his email before turning his attention to the nude office slut kneeling next to his desk.
“Today you’re with Davis, Lyn. Bastard sprained his wrist last night – I didn’t ask how – and he’s got a quote that has to go out by the end of the day. Can’t type – doctor’s orders – so you’ll have to take dictation.”
I respond with a quick “Yes, Sir” and get up quickly to leave – the boss doesn’t like any delay once he’s given his orders. He gives me hard slap to the ass anyway, and I can feel the red outline of his handprint on my ass as I make my way down to Davis’ office. I entertain myself with thoughts of how Davis might have sprained his wrist, finally settling on overenthusiastic masturbation to the sounds of his neighbors having sex, overheard through his apartment’s thin walls.
My face must have betrayed my thoughts, because Davis greets me grouchily. “Wipe that smirk off your face, Lyn. We’ve got work to do.”
I settle in at his computer. Davis his behind me, but because of the weird “kneeling” chair i’m sitting on – he uses it because of his bad back – he’s still getting quite a view of my naked body and stiletto heels. He leans back on his desk chair, feet on the desk, tells me which files to pull up, and we get started on the quote. He dictates text for the narrative sections, and tells me where to get the numbers for the rest, and soon the quote is mostly complete. He’s lucky to have me – I was a highly effective and sought after executive assistant before leaving to take this more, um, “interesting” job, and while my administrative skills don’t get as much use here as my other skills, I can still kick ass and take names when called upon to do so.
I’m putting the finishing touches on the quote – cover page, references, – all the things I’m usually responsible for, and that don’t require Davis’ input, when he calls my name. I turn around, and see that he’s got his cock out in his hand. He must have been stroking it for a while – it’s long and very hard, the head swollen and purple. Slut that I am, my cunt immediately gets wet.
“Take care of this for me, will you?”
I slip off the chair and kneel between his legs, taking his cock deep into my mouth, sliding it to the back of my throat. Davis loves being deep throated, and he’ll force his way in if I don’t get there fast enough. So I work to quickly build up that porn-star quality spit that will let him slip his cock in and out of my throat, and I only gag a bit when he starts thrusting.
The position is bad, and he stands up. He drags me over to where he can support himself against the wall as he starts to face fuck me, slamming his cock into my throat (and my head against the wall) over and over again.
“That’s right, little slut, suck my cock. Screw taking dictation, now it’s time to take my dick. I know that’s what You really want.”
I can’t argue. Even as I fight not to gag, my cunt is getting wetter and wetter, and when he pulls out of my mouth and sprays his cum all over my breasts, I nearly orgasm just from the feeling of it on my erect nipples.
“Alright, back to work.”
I can feel his cum on my chest, cooling as it dries. And as Davis snores behind me, I decide his weird chair isn’t so bad after all, when I discover that I can position myself on it so that my clit is pressed against the “seat.” The little nubs of rough fabric wrap around my clit, and I rub and rock myself to a quiet orgasm as I finish the quote and hit Send.