"Well," he said to me, slightly nodding his head as he said it, "to tell you the truth we knew how hard you would take it, and it was up to me to tell you." That was pretty smart of all of you. Because you're the boss and I respect you, I wouldn't just smack you," I nodded."Actually," he said looking up with his hands turned to the ceiling, "I drew the short straw."He paused, thinking for a minute before he went on,"Why don't you take the rest of the day off, to think about how you want to handle the situation, and such, and let me know."I left work. I was surprised at how many of the big guys I work with were coming up and putting their arms around my shoulders and telling me to call them if I needed anything, or just to talk. I thanked them, but honestly I knew that talking with my co-workers about my grief and anger wasn't my way.Instead I stopped at a bar on the way home to consider what tomorrow would bring to my 15 year marriage to Sal.So there I was sitting alone at the bar. I arch my back and press against you, feeling you move against that tender, sweet spot inside me. I've lost all control of my body; it only wants you to thrust and thrust and thrust, and you do. You curse on harsh breath as your hips pump hard but slowly into me. You're driving me crazy with your controlled thrusts. I want it fast and wild. My hands find your thighs and my fingernails score over your muscled quads. Your eyes are dark slits in your face, first focusing on the way your cock splits me wide before disappearing into me, then up to my jiggling breasts, and finally to my own half-closed lids. That dark, owning look, your breath exploding out of you, and the way you manage to touch all the right spots with every thrust, all have me on the edge of sweet oblivion. Then, your thumb finds my stiff, aching clit and I explode. I scream your name, over and over. I milk your lovely cock with my hungry cunt, pulling at your own climax. I want to feel you come inside me. You feel so.
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