Page 1
Story: Tell Me What You Want
1
My boss is the worst.
Honestly, I’m finally going to have to come to the same conclusion as everyone else in the office: that she and Miguel, my friend and colleague, have something going on. But no. I don’t want to think badly of them and get all worked up like the rest of my coworkers.
I’ve been working at Müller, a German pharmaceutical, since January. I’m the administrative assistant to the head of the local branch office. Though I like my job, my boss is constantly taking advantage of me. I mean, about the only thing she hasn’t done is tie me to a chair and throw me a chunk of bread to eat.
When I finally finish the pile of work my dear supervisor has asked me to have ready for tomorrow, I place the reports on her desk and leave.
It’s almost midnight and raining cats and dogs. Perfect. I run to the parking garage, and it is steaming like a bowl of soup. As soon as I press the button to unlock my little León, the car blinks its lights on to welcome me.
I quickly jump in. I’m not a coward, but I don’t like parking garages, especially when they’re this desolate and it’s so late at night. I lock the doors, open my bag, and pull out a tissue to wipe my face. I’m drenched. But when I go to turn the ignition, I drop the keys. I curse in the dark and crouch to look for them.
I feel around the floor with my hand, but the keys are nowhere to be found. Instead, I discover a pack of gum I lost a few days ago. Great. I continue patting the car floor until I find them. Then I hear laughter nearby and carefully look about, hoping I won’t be spotted.
Oh my God!
I see my supervisor and Miguel heading my way, giggling and chatting. They seem to be having fun. This puts me in a bad mood. There I was, working past the eleventh hour, and here they are, having a grand ol’ time. Without warning, they lean against the column next to me and kiss.
I can’t believe this!
Semisquatting in my car so they won’t see me, I hold my breath. Please ... please! If they realize I’m here, I’ll die of embarrassment. Suddenly, my supervisor drops her bag, and without even looking, she’s grabbing his package!
Oh my! Now Miguel sticks his hand under her skirt. He raises it, then pushes her against the column and begins to rub himself against her.
Oh man, what do I do now?
I want to leave. I don’t want to see what they’re doing, but if I start the car, they’ll know I’ve seen them. Bent and still, I can’t stop staring. Miguel lets her down and bends her over the hood of her car, then lowers her stockings, first with his mouth and then with his hands. Lord, I’m staring right at my supervisor’s ass. What a nightmare.
Miguel asks her, “Tell me, what do you want me to do?”
My boss, like a cat in heat, surrenders completely to the moment. “Whatever you want ... whatever you want,” she purrs.
Oh my God! Here I am, with a front-row seat. I just need some popcorn. Miguel lowers her over the car’s hood again, parts her legs, and brings his mouth to her sex. My supervisor, Miss Uptight, lets loose a wail, and I cover my eyes. But curiosity, a morbid curiosity, drives me to uncover them again. I stare as he finishes tasting her and then pulls back a little and pushes one, then two fingers inside her. Straightening up, he grabs her dark hair and tugs as he moves his fingers in a rhythm that—why deny it?—would make anyone moan.
“Yessssss!” she exclaims.
Now I’m having difficulty breathing.
Whether I like it or not, viewing that scene makes me frenetic. My sex life is pretty normal, probably predictable, so yes, watching this live and in person is getting me all hot and bothered.
Miguel pulls down the zipper on his gray pants. He releases a more-than-acceptable penis ... Whoa, Miguel! I’m stunned when he nails her with just one thrust. I’m dying! But of pleasure ... I think.
My nipples are hard, and suddenly, I realize I’m touching them. When did I shove my hand inside my blouse? I quickly pull it out, but my nipples and the very center of my being protest. They want more. But no. They can’t have more. I don’t do these things. Minutes later, after more moans and turns, Miguel and my supervisor pull themselves together. They’re finished. They get into my boss’s car and drive off, and I sigh with relief.
Finally alone in the parking garage, I come out from my hiding place and sit up in the driver’s seat. My hands are shaking. My knees too. And I notice my breathing is accelerated. Excited because of what I’ve just experienced, I close my eyes to calm down and consider what it might be like to have sizzling hot sex like that.
A moment later, I start the car and exit the parking garage. I’m going to go have a beer with friends. My mind and body are on fire; I need to put out the flames and cool down.
2
When I get to the office the next day, everything seems fine. I run into Miguel and can’t help but smile. If Miguel and my supervisor only knew what I’d seen ...
“Good morning, Judith.”
“Good morning.”
Miguel is very attractive. From my first day in the office, he has been wonderfully helpful, and we get along great. Just about everyone at work is drooling over him, but—I don’t know why—he just doesn’t have the same effect on me. Of course, now, knowing what I know and seeing him in action, I can’t help but think of him differently.
My boss is the worst.
Honestly, I’m finally going to have to come to the same conclusion as everyone else in the office: that she and Miguel, my friend and colleague, have something going on. But no. I don’t want to think badly of them and get all worked up like the rest of my coworkers.
I’ve been working at Müller, a German pharmaceutical, since January. I’m the administrative assistant to the head of the local branch office. Though I like my job, my boss is constantly taking advantage of me. I mean, about the only thing she hasn’t done is tie me to a chair and throw me a chunk of bread to eat.
When I finally finish the pile of work my dear supervisor has asked me to have ready for tomorrow, I place the reports on her desk and leave.
It’s almost midnight and raining cats and dogs. Perfect. I run to the parking garage, and it is steaming like a bowl of soup. As soon as I press the button to unlock my little León, the car blinks its lights on to welcome me.
I quickly jump in. I’m not a coward, but I don’t like parking garages, especially when they’re this desolate and it’s so late at night. I lock the doors, open my bag, and pull out a tissue to wipe my face. I’m drenched. But when I go to turn the ignition, I drop the keys. I curse in the dark and crouch to look for them.
I feel around the floor with my hand, but the keys are nowhere to be found. Instead, I discover a pack of gum I lost a few days ago. Great. I continue patting the car floor until I find them. Then I hear laughter nearby and carefully look about, hoping I won’t be spotted.
Oh my God!
I see my supervisor and Miguel heading my way, giggling and chatting. They seem to be having fun. This puts me in a bad mood. There I was, working past the eleventh hour, and here they are, having a grand ol’ time. Without warning, they lean against the column next to me and kiss.
I can’t believe this!
Semisquatting in my car so they won’t see me, I hold my breath. Please ... please! If they realize I’m here, I’ll die of embarrassment. Suddenly, my supervisor drops her bag, and without even looking, she’s grabbing his package!
Oh my! Now Miguel sticks his hand under her skirt. He raises it, then pushes her against the column and begins to rub himself against her.
Oh man, what do I do now?
I want to leave. I don’t want to see what they’re doing, but if I start the car, they’ll know I’ve seen them. Bent and still, I can’t stop staring. Miguel lets her down and bends her over the hood of her car, then lowers her stockings, first with his mouth and then with his hands. Lord, I’m staring right at my supervisor’s ass. What a nightmare.
Miguel asks her, “Tell me, what do you want me to do?”
My boss, like a cat in heat, surrenders completely to the moment. “Whatever you want ... whatever you want,” she purrs.
Oh my God! Here I am, with a front-row seat. I just need some popcorn. Miguel lowers her over the car’s hood again, parts her legs, and brings his mouth to her sex. My supervisor, Miss Uptight, lets loose a wail, and I cover my eyes. But curiosity, a morbid curiosity, drives me to uncover them again. I stare as he finishes tasting her and then pulls back a little and pushes one, then two fingers inside her. Straightening up, he grabs her dark hair and tugs as he moves his fingers in a rhythm that—why deny it?—would make anyone moan.
“Yessssss!” she exclaims.
Now I’m having difficulty breathing.
Whether I like it or not, viewing that scene makes me frenetic. My sex life is pretty normal, probably predictable, so yes, watching this live and in person is getting me all hot and bothered.
Miguel pulls down the zipper on his gray pants. He releases a more-than-acceptable penis ... Whoa, Miguel! I’m stunned when he nails her with just one thrust. I’m dying! But of pleasure ... I think.
My nipples are hard, and suddenly, I realize I’m touching them. When did I shove my hand inside my blouse? I quickly pull it out, but my nipples and the very center of my being protest. They want more. But no. They can’t have more. I don’t do these things. Minutes later, after more moans and turns, Miguel and my supervisor pull themselves together. They’re finished. They get into my boss’s car and drive off, and I sigh with relief.
Finally alone in the parking garage, I come out from my hiding place and sit up in the driver’s seat. My hands are shaking. My knees too. And I notice my breathing is accelerated. Excited because of what I’ve just experienced, I close my eyes to calm down and consider what it might be like to have sizzling hot sex like that.
A moment later, I start the car and exit the parking garage. I’m going to go have a beer with friends. My mind and body are on fire; I need to put out the flames and cool down.
2
When I get to the office the next day, everything seems fine. I run into Miguel and can’t help but smile. If Miguel and my supervisor only knew what I’d seen ...
“Good morning, Judith.”
“Good morning.”
Miguel is very attractive. From my first day in the office, he has been wonderfully helpful, and we get along great. Just about everyone at work is drooling over him, but—I don’t know why—he just doesn’t have the same effect on me. Of course, now, knowing what I know and seeing him in action, I can’t help but think of him differently.
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