The First Date With My New Boss

The events in this story happened a while ago. I was inspired to write it down during one of those long into the night intimate confessionals with a good friend of mine. Some details I have had to alter, but the heart and facts of the story are clear and real. I hope you take as much pleasure reading it as my friend did hearing it.

The interior of the small restaurant -il Portofino Ristorante Italiano- was perfection. Dark wood paneling, exposed beams, candlelight reflecting in the glassware on pristine white tablecloths. The gentle swaying rhythms of bossa nova playing under the hushed, murmuring chatter and clink of glasses and cutlery. The Maitre de led us past tables of well attired clientele. Older ladies in their glittering eveningwear, the distinctive look of the latest beauty treatments on their faces, their gentlemen elegantly attired, well groomed, polished and mannered. I felt very young amidst such an older crowd, and quite drab and dowdy in my smart but day worn office uniform. I wonder what they make of us. A wealthy man taking his daughter out after work? A successful businessman seducing his naive fresh intern? or perhaps, I smile secretively, the other way around.

As we reach our table in a quiet dark wood paneled and red velvet seated corner. "Will you excuse me, while I just freshen up a little?" He nods "Of course". The sharp sound of the stiletto heels of my black suede Dune court shoes clacking with satisfying volume on the polished wooden floor of the bistro. I walk slowly over to the bar. Feeling Micheals eyes on my legs, smooth down the hem at the back of my skirt to cheekily draw his attention upwards.

"Signora?" The young barman turns his attention to me from wiping a wine glass with a smile.

I ask for directions to the bathroom. Once inside I steady myself with deep breaths, hands on the cold white porcelain in front of the wide ornate mirror. All those weeks of lightly flirting, drawing him in, all the while playing the calm professional under pressure had led here, and I still felt unready.

My attraction to Micheal had been instant and total. Electric. His handsome cragged features, well groomed with hints of grey giving him a distinguished worldly air. His tall, solid build under an expensive well fitted Armani suit. The story was that he'd stepped down from one of the large consulting firms in London to look after our small department after our ancient but lovely Carol went into her long overdue retirement. It wasn't about money for him any more, it was about making a difference. Micheal had been a breath of fresh air, full of fresh ideas, enthusiasm, all carried with the confident experience to make it work. It had started as a gentle tease, offering him brief smouldering looks, gazing into those startlingly boyish blue eyes for just a little too long, adding a gentle sway to my hips walking past his desk.

Of course I'd noticed the wedding ring, a minor pang of jealousy. For me it made the flirting safe and easy, if he didn't play along there was a reason, and if he did, well the little wife should be working harder to keep her man interested. Between meetings and spreadsheets I fantasised being his bit on the side for a while, but then if she couldn't keep him happy. Slowly turning up the temperature, leaving a lower button on my work blouse undone, asking suggestively if there was anything else I could do for him after dutifully serving his morning coffee. Trying to crack his cool professional exterior. This evening he had asked me to stay on after work, to get the end of the month reports finished before the weekend, and after hours, invited me to buy me supper as it was so late. One way or the other, saying 'no' simply wasn't an option.

This might be my one chance to make a real and lasting impression. Just try to relax and enjoy the evening, let nature take its course. Taking in a measured appraisal of my reflection in the cold light of the restaurant bathroom mirror. Still in my work clothes, black fitted Jaeger blazer, high waisted short black skirt, white formal cotton blouse, cute dark green vintage William Morris blackthorn print silk neckerchief. Not bad at all, but somehow formal and dull. Shaking my hair out of its low ponytail, I brush it through and sweep it up into a high twisted messy bun, pulling out thin strands to fall and frame my face. An improvement. I could re-tie my silk scarf as a halter neck top. A little daring, more sophisticated look, but a definite step away from a work colleague sharing a late meal after work to a girl out on a date.

Alright, let's show him what we've got. Quickly shrugging off the jacket and slipping out of the Hawes & Curtis fitted white twill shirt and sheer black leavers lace bra I had been wearing underneath. Bare skin prickling at the cool of the bathroom, digging through my bag to find a neatly wound black hair ribbon, tying one corner of the green silk square to the middle and tightly tying the long black ribbon at the nape of my neck, tails and bow trailing low between my shoulder blades. Reaching around tightly knotting the corners against my bare back. Gauzy silk folds delicately clinging to my curves, my nipples puckering the fabric to delicate points. A very satisfactory halter neck top, I smiled to myself, quite glamorous in fact. Certainly dressier and more informal than the stiff shirt and jacket. Flaunting my smooth round shoulders, sharp collarbone and long back. showing off a lot more skin, yet still elegant and demure.

A soft brush of smokey shadows around the eye, perhaps not fashionable but courtesy of a small Lisa Eldrige palette, a classic sultry look. A twist of Yves Saint Laurent's Volume Effect mascara up over my lashes and a touch up of Charlotte Tilbury Pillow Talk lipstick and my day to night transformation was complete. The overall impression - delicate and feminine, romantic but sophisticated - but more importantly, exuded a confident charm.

Leaving the bathroom the waiter quickly looked up, then taking a second lingering look before recognising an already seated customer and offering to take my jacket. My sartorial improvisation was evidently a success. Standing at the bar, turning over my bare shoulder to see Micheal quietly appreciating the view. Walking over to the table, my heels loudly clacking on the stone floor, I was gratified to notice several heads turning and glancing up from their tables. Micheal raised an eyebrow.

"Now, there's a change. Such hidden talents. I do approve." a broad smile spreading across his handsome chiseled face, deepening the distinguished crinkles as the corner of his eye.

"I thought I ought to step up to the occasion." I smile, flushing with the flattery, unconsciously raising my hand to my chest to touch the silks, hide my sudden blushing.

He stands and moves my chair out for me, so charming. Gliding slowly into place, imagining his fingers on my neck, hands on my bare shoulders, as I had a hundred times before. A slight shiver prickling my skin, maybe this time.

"I've taken the liberty of ordering for you. TheTortellini Ricotta e Spinaci. Everything here is great. You'll love it. Vegetarian, that is right, isn't it?"

I was so flattered that he'd been paid such close attention, and wondered what else he might have picked up on about me. Of course he'd made the perfect choice, and absolutely what I would have taken myself and I didn't mind telling him so.

Dinner arrived and the tortellini proved an exquisite plate, freshly made pasta and irresistibly smooth, thick creamy sauce. The chilledCastel Firmian Pinot Grigiomade a fresh and crisp accompaniment. We talked about music and art, he seemed to hang on my every word, listening with interest and asking deep, thoughtful questions, encouraging me to open up and talk more about myself. All nervousness or reticence melted away, conversation became natural and easy. He made me feel like I was catching up with an old and very attractive friend who I hadn't seen in years. As we talked and ate, our legs kept brushing gently under the table, both of us pretending not to notice. We laughed about and reminisced about places we'd both visited, Micheal seemed to have been everywhere I had been and everywhere else too. Testing the foot play further, gently holding my calf against the soft smooth high twist wool of his suit trousers. He doesn't move away. Enjoying the warmth and softness on my bare skin, I listen, chin on hand, fascinated by his tales of adventure.

Our main course over, Micheal orders a large portion of tiramisú for dessert and is really enjoying himself. I'm watching my figure, so anything after a heavy is quite out of the question and satisfy myself by finishing our second bottle ofPinot Grigio. I look on with mild jealousy as he teases the brown cocoa dusting with his fork, before plunging in and scooping up the sweet mascarpone concoction devouring it with relish.

"It really is very good. You must try some." his voice unattached, decisive.

"Oh but I couldn't!" I protest, laughing.

"Ah, but, Alice. I insist." Pretending to look at me sternly, pointing a mouthful in my direction.

I lean towards him, opening my mouth to take in his fork. Softly pursing my lips around the cool cream, hinted with the aroma of coffee liqueur, I close my eyes. Silky sweet and delicious, cold sliding over my tongue and down my throat. As he catches my gaze, I feel a sudden soft tug in my chest.

"I told you." a hint of knowing satisfaction in his voice.

"Mmm." I murmur blisfuly, leaning back, gently curling my foot against his ankle. "That is delicious!"

Micheal digs into the soft creamy white again.

"You're very welcome."Once again holding out the dessert fork to tempt me. "More?"

My cheeks flush, how could I resist? "Yes. Please."

I lean forward and part my lips for him to feed me again. This time I hold his gaze as I take in the thick creamy goodness from his spoon, delicately licking the rich velvety rum and coffee crumbs from my lips. He takes turns to share the rest of his plate, forkfull by forkfull.

Outside the cold air and the wine hits me. Well, this is it, time to find out if he wants me or not, say goodnight or something more. and I stumble. His arms around, steadying me. "Ooops. Steady on there." My head swimming with the deep manly warm smell of spiced coffee and his clean cologne. His face so close to mine. His rugged features, his straight lips, his dark hair dusted with grey and those innocent blue eyes.

"Come here." a low, commanding whisper.

I lean in and brush my lips up against his mouth. A sudden falling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Had I misheard? Perhaps I had made a mistake? Had I read all the signals wrong? I pull back, blinking and smile nervously, ashamed, ready to make my excuses and leave.

His response came quick and assured. Tightly holding the small of my back against him. Hot and eager. His tongue filling my mouth, still delicious from the desert, I take it in, licking and caressing, sucking gently at his sweetness. My yearning body against his strong frame. The brief wave of hollow dread turning to a sweet rush of contentment and desire. My arms up around his neck. Feels so right. His arms holding me to him as leans me back, lips moist and warm against my own.

He breathes in my ear "I've wanted you since we first met." my heart beating loudly.

"More dessert at mine." I offered, the words nearly catching in my throat, somewhere between a pleading whisper and a wicked temptation. Half expecting a no, and for the first time that evening remembered his wife at home, waiting patiently.

"Sounds delicious." His voice warm and breathy. His mouth and hands on me, melting all other thoughts away.

The short cab ride home a blur of hot eager kisses and soft lingering touches.

Soon we are in my small flat, the door locked safely behind us. My fingers pulling his tie loose, slipping under the buttons of his shirt. His hands caressing and teasing through the vintage silky fabric of my scarf top, warm lips on my neck and shoulders.

"All these weeks you've been driving me crazy." he breathes in my ear.

"Oh, I never realised" I lied looking up at him innocently though my lashes, then and let him kiss me deeply.

Holding the back of my neck, knowing hands stroking my rump, his fingers toying with the large decorative metal zip pull of my short skirt. I let my hand slide down the smooth cotton of his formal shirt to the thick leather belt, and start to tug it loose.

"Strip for me." He says as if giving a simple instruction in the office. It is not a request.

A flurry of emotion, a little embarrassment and a desire to step into his fantasy of me. Reluctantly I push away and he sits down on the shabby green velvet chesterfield sofa, his open shirt revealing a broad well shaped, mature torso as he unfastens the heavy rectangle cufflinks.

Quickly clearing the thrifted dark wooden coffee table of its untidy piles of vintage glossy magazines - well thumbed classic issues of French Vogue and Country Life before stepping up onto the darkly patinated surface. Gaze down at Micheal, lounging on my sofa, gratified to see the swelling bulge under his tailored trousers. He leans back, enjoying the view.

Swaying my hips, dancing to the rhythm of the restaurant's bossa nova still lingering in my ear. Not breaking eye contact, smile and run my hands over my top, fingers straying over the edges where silk meets skin.

"Hmm? like this?" I murmur huskily, and smile softly.

As I tease, his eyes widen, lifting my scarf top up and dropping it back just before revealing the undercurve of my breasts. Sway and dance enjoying the luxuriantly soft smooth fabric under my hands.

"Mmm. Feels so good." sliding the silk, caressing my breasts, bringing nipples to firm arousal.

Ensuring I have Micheals full attention, I slowly turn around and delicately take the zip ring, pulling down slowly, to reveal the small of my back, the edge of my delicate sheer black French leavers lace thong. Briefly hesitating before slipping the skirt just over my bottom and stroking my smooth roundness with my fingertips.

Slowly bending over, displaying the black lace between my legs tight against the alluring swell beneath, I wiggle the tight black skirt all the way down, then off. Tracing my fingertips up back up my high heels, lightly over the thin black suede ankle straps and silver buckle. Up the curve of my calf and over my smooth thighs, tracing the line between my firm round buttocks, pulling the panties up, tighter. Turn over my shoulder, smiling to see Micheal lost in admiration, his finger poised at his lips.

I pull lightly on the matte satin ribbon at my neck, freeing the knot and letting the silks flutter and drift down over my naked chest to the floor. In front of him naked except my black lace panties and heels, feeling supremely confident, his eyes drinking me in.

"You're beautiful, Alice." He states, matter of factly.

I take his hand, step down from the table and lead him to the bedroom door, heels clicking sharply on the wooden floor.

Firm, strong, mature hands tenderly caressing my breasts, fingers slide over my stomach, lingering along the edge of my black lacey thong. His mouth, hot on my neck and shoulders. Licking my hardened nipples. Firm, experienced, strokes through the soft lace between my legs. Kissing down, sliding my panties off, over my thighs, my calves, over the delicate buckles at my ankles, over my heels and off. His mouth working down to the waiting dewy softness between my legs.

I can't believe this is real. Micheal who I've only known for two short weeks, now in my flat, in my bed, pleasuring me, worshipping my body. His tongue swirling over my hood, gently stroking the sweet bud beneath, his mouth sucking at me. Hot soft butterflies fluttering between my legs, all over my belly. God he knows how to treat a woman. I stretch out languorously, softly moaning his name as he tastes the pleasure of my arousal.

Sitting over me, he unlatches his belt and pushes the band of his underwear and trousers down. His magnificent column standing upright against his stomach. Embarrassed how excited this makes me, but I can't take my eyes from his shape and size, full and mature, down to the shadowy silvery hairs around his hilt.

Instinctively I reach out and run the back of my fingers up his hard, heavily veined shaft, tingling soft fingertips over his flushed bulging head and slowly back down the silky skin pulled taught. A satisfying, heavy throb against my hand. Waiting for him is too much, the anticipation giddying. I let out a light gasp as he slides his hand up between my legs, firm fingers delicately parting my folds, enjoying my soft slick wetness. A moan of pleasure escapes my lips.

Then slowly, almost reverently he lowers the head of his hot, heavy cock into my smooth soft yielding wetness, stretching me out, I gasp as he fills me up slowly inch by inch, clenching him tightly inside me. A wonderful deep ache spreading. So full and warm. He lets out a low throaty murmur of satisfaction and wonder.

"You feel amazing." his hands slide under me, lifting me to just the right position to push deeper.

My eyes roll back and I swallow hard. "Oh. Micheal. Yes."

He starts to rock his hips heavily against my own, pushing me down. I sigh in unison with his strong motions, losing myself to his steady confident rhythm.

"My god. You're incredible." His deep breathless wonder sending shivers down the back of my neck.

Riding my hips, up hard, warm and tingling. My body naturally matching his rise and fall, pushing up to meet his deep, powerful thrusts. His manhood throbbing deliciously in the tight grip of my silken warm softness. I murmer holding his pressure down on me, a sweet ache building blissful intensity with every thrust, hitting the tender place deep inside over and over again, each stroke bringing soft moans to my throat.

With each stroke he massages the soft, tender place inside with the achingly hot tip of his full hard penis. Riding me up hard to the hilt, crushing against my clit in delicious agony. His musky scent fills my nostrils. Every part of me coming to life under him. The sweet agony inside rising like a tide, threatening to completely overwhelm me.

"You are so perfect" he whispers, his hot breath in my ear, his large hands caressing my soft pert breasts, teasing my nipples into. I can't take it any more. All at once my body erupts. The exquisitely sweet pain swells and explodes in endless shuddering bursts. Sudden hot waves of blissful delight rippling all over. My tingling toes tighten against the inside of my high heels.

Sweet hot flashes across my stomach and up to my sharply erect nipples. Feverishly grabbing the bedsheets, my fingertips tingling till they burst. Glittering sparkles of liquid fire burn through my veins. His pounding cock driving hot liquid flushes pulsing down my quivering thighs.

And he just keeps on, pumping his hard, heavy cock through my dripping cunt. I swoon and slide around him, raising my knees and wrapping my legs around his back, crossing my ankles and pushing my high heels into the air.

"Fuck me more." I gasp, arching my back

Letting my hands flow over his broad chest and muscular shoulders, pulling his head down to fill my mouth with his eager tongue. He starts gently massaging the rim of my arse with his knowing fingers, around and around. Oh god, how does he know? I love that so much.

"Like this, Alice?" he murmurs, asking my consent.

"Ohh. Yes." I breathe, kissing his face and neck.

Yes, yes, please, do me like that. Each circling pressure stronger than the last, I don't know if I'm just thinking it or am begging him out loud. Sliding his fingers up into me, slowly finger fucking my arse. His thick dick filling my pussy. Moaning with the pleasure he is giving me.