A Boss Wants Lesbian Service

A shiny, high-rise corporate office in a bustling city, with late-night meetings, glass-walled conference rooms, and a penthouse suite where private encounters happen. Everyone has choices to make in life. Working for Vivian Hart and doing what she wanted was my defining choice.

Let me explain. I was 28 years old at the time and was the 'client experience' coordinator. This is a wellness company and I was the liaison for special clients. It was my first corporate job after a variety of customer service gigs. Corporate life isn't for everyone, but it was my dream to work in the city, in a giant building, for people in suits.

Vivian Hart saw something in me. An executive and co-founder of the business. Our relationship was strictly business given how many hours she worked. She only spoke to me about work, nothing else, and she never showed interest in my personal life.

One day she called me into her office while facing the downtown view. I'll never forget her posture. Clean. Precise. When she turned to face me, I knew she wanted something of a personal nature. She didn't offer me a seat, instead she approached me standing.

"I'd like to make you an offer," she said. "If everything goes right, I'll become the next CEO soon, but I'm an extremely busy woman, as you know, and I can't be everywhere at once. I have many obligations. Business and personal."

She continued, "Which is why I'd like to make you a deal. This comes from my pocket, not the company, so you'll report directly to me on this. If you help me with personal matters, I'll take care of you financially. This will stay between us."

"That's okay, it's my job," I said.

Vivian read my tense body language and smiled. She was amused by how naive I was about the offer. Like I had no idea what I was getting into.

The conversation lasted about 15 minutes and I still remember most details. Not every word. But her facial expressions, her small mannerisms, the look in her eyes. There was excitement on her part for bringing me into a new world. And I saw that look of relief because now she'd have a new helper.

Our deal was simple. Vivian Hart was drowning with corporate responsibilities, which she needed to maintain in order to nab the CEO position, so she assigned me duties with women in her network. What that meant was an open ended question.

We shook hands and the deal was sealed.

1. Claudia Reyes -- Stressed Investor

A week later I found myself in a downtown hotel. Our business fundamentals were strong but we still relied heavily on investors. So our top priority was keeping them happy, which included the likes of Claudia Reyes.

I'd been told that Claudia was stressed after a failed deal on another project. The mindset of investors is based on confidence. Claudia being in a bad mood could pause her investments with us. So I was tasked with doing a 'personal check-in' here. I'd also been given a $5,000 wire transfer from my boss. Why? I was about to find out.

Claudia was barefoot and the top of her blouse was unbuttoned when she opened the door. A thin woman in her late 50's. She wasn't impressed to see me. She'd rather have been alone. Her makeup was a bit smeared like she'd been crying. I handed her a basket, with vintage wine, oils, and a handwritten note from my boss.

She told me to come inside and she looked through the basket.

"They send you?" Claudia asks.

"Is something wrong?"

"No darling. Everything's fine. I was just wondering why they'd send an employee. This could have been done with delivery service."

"I work for Ms. Hart and she wanted me to handle this personally."

The mood shifted in that hotel room and Claudia lifted an eyebrow, like she knew a secret that I didn't. She went through the basket, searching the oils, their scents and name brands. As she sifted through the bottles, she started asking about me -- my name, where I'm from, where I went to school.

She looked at me and started unbuttoning her blouse. Her chest was flat and lean and she took off her top. She stood barefoot only wearing pants and a black bra.

"Ever give a massage before?" she asked.

"Not really. Especially not with oils, if that's what you're asking."

"All you have to do is rub."

Claudia turned around and unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Then she took her pants off. Her backside was bare except for thin panties. The woman was skinny and had an elegant beauty. She laid front-side down on the bed after pushing the blanket away.

Not a word was spoken but obviously she expected an oil massage. I didn't want to leave Claudia hanging or return to the office with a disappointed boss, so I looked at the oils and chose lavender. I opened it and poured it in my hands. Then I went to the bed and sat beside where she was laying.

My hands slathered her back with oil. She felt soft and had a faint bikini tan line. You often hear about massage therapists saying they could feel the tension in a person's body. I found that to be very true with Claudia and the stress she was under. Her body was tense at first but she seemed to relax as I pressed harder.

I'd come to learn that Claudia Reyes was a frequent visitor to massage therapists and spa treatments. My boss tested me to see how far I'd go with women. Giving a massage was exciting, I'll admit, but my main thought was the money.

2. Isabelle Moreau -- A Rival CEO

Two weeks after the massage situation, there was this big luncheon hosted by a notable fashion magazine. Female leaders in the business industry were honored on different days, and leaders in the wellness industry were being profiled. That included my boss, that also included Isabelle Moreau, our rival.

My boss was invited and I was added as her guest. The luncheon was held in a ballroom with high ceilings and white linen tables. It was a thing where women gave short speeches on innovations and leadership and my boss would also be speaking at some point. It was fun, honestly, and I got to wear designer clothes on my boss's dime.

What's funny about female rivalry is that you can sense it. That tension in the air. My boss and Isabelle sat two tables away and not once did they look in each other's direction. Not even when Isabelle spoke did my boss look at the stage.

Halfway through the event, Isabelle Moreau went to the bathroom during someone's speech, and while I was dining on a filet, my boss gestured to me. I got up and approached her, bending down so I wouldn't disturb anyone's view. She handed me a note.

"Follow her," she whispered. "Give her this note."

"Sure, of course."

I went to the bathroom during a speech and that was mortifying enough with people looking at me. I figured the note was a peace offering to cool tensions because my boss was too proud to do it herself. What I hadn't considered was the depths of my boss's depravity.

When I entered the bathroom the toilet flushed and Isabelle stepped out while fixing her dress. She's a young CEO with a sharp mind. I was struck by her beauty like most people are and she gave me the side-eye knowing who I worked for. She wasn't intimidated, if anything she intimidated me. She washed her hands and adjusted herself in the mirror.

I handed her the note.

"This is from Ms. Hart."

"You're her little messenger?"

What was I supposed to say? So I just said 'yes' and she took the note after drying her hands. She read it, and looking at the movement in her eyes, she read the note at least twice before starting to smile. It was like an inside joke and she licked her lips, before folding the note and tossing it in the trash.

"The terms are acceptable," she said. "I didn't think you were the type."

"I work with clients."

Now in hindsight, my response was foolish, but I didn't know what else to say. I had a sneaking suspicion what was going to happen, but it just seemed too unbelievable. Like there was no way my boss would put me in a compromising situation with someone she'd called 'the enemy' behind closed doors multiple times.

Isabelle put one foot on the counter and lifted her sparkly dress. Her heels cost more than my outfit. Her toenails were painted red. Her legs, in my opinion, were the product of high rep squats and maybe some running. And then there were her panties, thin, almost see-through, a narrow triangle shape which she pulled to the side. There was her pussy. Waxed. I remember my mind playing tricks on me, like I could smell her arousal.

"Well? A deal is a deal."

To this day, I was never told what the deal was, but Ms. Hart compensated me very well for easing tensions. That was my first time eating pussy and it was a learning experience. I think part of the reason it was so exhilarating was the literal rush factor. The luncheon was still ongoing and there was a strong chance other attendees could be using the same bathroom.

So I went to my knees and did what I had to do for money. I looked at it up close, Isabelle's pussy which seemed to get wetter by the second, and I started licking it to her desired way. She gave me instructions on how she liked to be pleased and it was evident she was used to teaching people her preferences.

As aroused as I was, I thought about my older sister's wedding which was a month away. I was required to book a hotel and expected to bring a generous gift like everyone else. That's tradition for you. People in my large family knew I had a city job for a big company. No one knew that I was living on the margins -- until Vivian Hart's money saved my ass.

3. Sophia Khan -- The Ex Lover

Easily the most striking moment of that period was dealing with Sophia Khan, the secret ex-lover of my boss. This was the wildcard my boss worried about most. Something which could torpedo her reputation and ruin her chance of becoming the CEO.

A renowned local artist, late-30's, style for days. Sophia Khan had a firecracker personality. Her long black hair was always free and had natural curls. Strong personality. Big tits. Big butt. The woman could turn heads.

The thought of Vivian and Sophia being lovers seemed far fetched because they were so different, but if we're being honest, it was never about love. It was only about sex.

I remember working in my area when my phone buzzed and Vivian called me. She never called. We'd always communicated by text.

"Come to my office right away," Vivian said. "She's in the lobby and won't go away. I'll pay you whatever you want. Just get rid of her."

"Who?"

The line paused. "Just do as I say. Come. Now."

When she hung up the phone, I went down the hall to Vivian's office and saw the commotion. Sophia was having an argument with the receptionist while the office door was closed. Clearly my boss was inside hiding from whatever situation was going on.

Sophia kept saying things like, 'I need to talk to her,' and 'She fucking owes me,' while the receptionist kept trying to calm her down. I stepped in, having broken up a few arguments between women before during my sorority days. When she looked at me, Sophia stopped in her tracks, perhaps wondering if I was the boss's new fling.

"Can we talk privately please?" I asked.

I have a sincere way of disarming people and Sophia was open to whatever I had to say. She agreed and we went to the conference room. With new technology, I pushed a button and the glass walls weren't see-through any longer. We had total privacy and I was ready for whatever she'd hit me with. Or so I thought...

"Are you sleeping with her?" Sophia asked.

"What do you mean?"

She started seething. "Vivian Hart. Are you the latest plaything? You look like you could be."

"No, no. I work here. Vivian is my boss."

"Why is she hiding in her office?"

"Look, we've just met. Can you please calm down? I'm sure there's a rational way to work things out. Forgive me but... do you need money?"

Offering her money seemed like the best idea at the time because people often complained to my boss about money, but it triggered her, she gritted her teeth.

"You think this is about money?" Sophia asked. "I missed Paris for her. Do you understand that? I gave up my first residency, the one people build their careers on. I stayed here while my friends did sold-out shows in Europe, all because she couldn't stand being alone."

As crazy as it seemed at the time, it made sense why my boss was hiding and why I'd been hired to do the dirty work. Vivian Hart, at her age and stature, didn't want the corporate world knowing that she was 'seeing' a sexy young artist, whose style is the exact opposite of corporate culture.

Sophia saw the look of confusion on my face. She knew it was a shock to me, and that's what made her angry, that my boss kept her hidden in the closet. Swept under the rug like an afterthought. But what Sophia Khan didn't know was that I was being paid generously to keep a lid on this.

"How can I make things right?" I said. "What will it take for this situation to resolve? At least in the short term. I'm hoping for a positive solution."

"You want to fix this? If Vivian's too cowardly to face me, maybe you can stand-in."

She looked me in the eyes while unbuttoning her top. Her dark skin showed when the top half came open. When she opened her top completely, I saw that the bra she wore wasn't a bra at all, not in the ordinary sense. The white fabric only had cups on the bottom to maintain shape. But the top half of the 'bra' was uncovered, letting most of her black nipples show. It was more like harness than traditional lingerie.

The situation took a darker turn when she emptied her purse onto the conference table. Her phone, wallet, and makeup were tossed on the table. In between those essential items were a dildo, wrist cuffs, and lubrication. There was also a Mooligirl rose petal vibrator that I know many of my colleagues secretly use in the office. Sophia's main priority wasn't emotional closure, she came for an office hookup.

Vivian's words rang in my head, 'I'll pay you whatever you want.' At that moment I understood why. Their sex must have been intense. Raw. Bondage driven. Rather than having blowout sex in her office with a jilted lover, my boss assigned that unholy task to me.

It was going to happen one way or another. Sophia Khan wasn't waiting for my permission. She removed her skirt to reveal white crotchless panties with a harness attached to her crotch area. It took me a moment to realize it was for the dildo. It was a strap-on situation. And the strap was nestled over her dark patch of long pubic hair.

"Get on your knees," she said.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting what I'm owed. Vivian will have her turn eventually."

That was my second time eating pussy. It was a different kind of stress than what happened in the bathroom, because there, anyone could walk in and catch me. But in the corporate boardroom, the door was closed and the glass walls were darkened so it was less likely anyone would enter.

Unlike the previous pussy, this time I was following my boss's footsteps. I tasted what my boss tasted. Kissing where she kissed. Filling her sexual role. Enjoying the pussy my boss enjoyed, but that wasn't necessarily my choice. I'll admit that I never would have done that with Sophia if not for my job. Office sex was a fantasy, sure, but I wouldn't risk my career over it. So in that moment of licking and sucking, I told myself that it was survival. But my body betrayed me. I'd never felt such adrenaline during a sexual encounter before.

Her orgasm had a stronger taste than the first woman and it leaked down my mouth in a steady stream. I did my best to swallow everything, to keep her happy. That's what I was being paid for. I understood why my boss kept Sophia Khan around as a plaything. The woman was strong, in command, with an exotic body and immense sexuality. I later learned that Sophia grew up in a strict Muslim household and channeled her sexual repression into her artwork and the desire to find new and taboo experiences.

After that I was bent over the conference table. Sophia had stripped down and wore the strap-on. She was even barefoot, wanting to dig her toes into the carpet. Meanwhile I had all my clothes on. She pulled my bottom down. She applied lubrication. At that moment I remember wondering if my boss was usually the giver or receiver in their relationship. Both could be true. I could imagine Vivian loving to strap other women. I could also see her wanting a role reversal at some point, being on the other end of submission.

Before she entered, Sophia told me to put my hands behind my back and it was like I was being arrested on the hood of a car. She cuffed my wrists and my face was sideways on the table. I'd never been so helpless in my life and I was at her mercy.

When the penetration happened, I moaned loudly, then caught myself. The glass in the conference rooms muffled the sound to maintain privacy but the thought of people walking by was a constant in my mind. The secretary, anyone going to and from Vivian's office, I was terrified of them potentially hearing my loud crying and thinking there was an emergency, then barging in like some kind of hero, only to find me in a career ending position.

I understood why Vivian was hooking up with that woman. The strap situation was intense and the tempo built in a gradual pace. By far the wildest encounter of my life, at least at that point. And the orgasm I had was also the best I'd ever experienced.

When it was done, Sophia uncuffed me, then she helped me stand upright like a lover giving aftercare, kissing me on the cheek and rubbing my shoulders, only it wasn't all about love. She looked me in the eyes and told me to lick the table clean. I thought she was joking, but she wasn't.

"Lick it," she said. "Clean."

I bent over and licked the wet spot I made. Tasting my own orgasmic fluids. Reality hit me hard while doing something so degrading. Going from an orgasmic high to a degrading low. All for money. All because I agreed to serve my boss and do her bidding. Was it worth it? You be the judge. In my opinion, it opened my eyes to a world of sex, exploring things I normally wouldn't have.

Watching her get dressed was a strange delight. Seeing her tuck her big tits away, stuffing those dark nipples into the special 'bra,' if you could even call it that. She didn't even bother to wear panties because she wanted her pussy to breathe. She put her panties into her purse along with everything else.

Sophia kissed my lips then left, no one in the office having any idea what happened. I went straight to my phone and texted Vivian Hart that the job was done and the jilted lover situation was resolved for now. My boss didn't reply, instead she sent a generous wire transfer.

The End

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