I started working for Duncan Townsend six years ago as his executive assistant. At the ripe age of twenty, I didn’t have a lot of experience under my belt, but he took a chance on me.

My infatuation with him didn’t start immediately. In fact, originally, I had no interest in him at all. Not that he isn’t attractive. At six foot tall, with his strong Irish features, and those awful cute dimples, he certainly qualifies as attractive in my book. It was probably more that I felt so inferior to him.

He’s a successful businessman who, now at age thirty-eight, and is worth nearly a billion dollars. He’s smart as they come, sharp as a tack, and probably the hardest worker I have ever known. He’s never looked down on me or treated me as anything but an equal. Still, during those first couple of years, as he had to put up with my learning curve mistakes, I felt as though I was so far beneath him.

Over these last four years, though, we have become a team, a dynamic duo ready to take on the world together. Together we have seen his company grow from a hundred million dollar a year business to nearly four billion dollars estimated for this year. In this economy, that’s saying something.

While I don’t own any portion of the company for my part in his success, he has always treated me fairly with compensation for my efforts and sometimes very long hours. I’m paid a respectable six-figure salary, I have a high-end company car, and even my apartment here in downtown is paid for so that I would always be close to the office and Mr. Townsend when he needed me.

Certainly not shabby for a twenty-six-year-old with no college degree. The one thing I don’t have is a love life. Part of that is due to the job, as it is very hard to maintain a relationship when you are regularly working eighty-hour weeks, being called in the middle of the night because there is a problem on some project in Asia, etc. Part of it is also the fact that I am madly in love with Duncan.

Therein lies the problem. While Duncan is very much single, for much the same reasons I am, he’s never once shown any interest in me outside of the professional realm.

Oh, I have tried to get him to notice me, and I am certain he has. The times I have worn a blouse just a little too loose and leaned over his desk to hand him something. His eyes lingered a bit longer than they should. The times I’ve had to come in after hours, intentionally wearing a short, tiny dress that would in no way meet HR’s dress code. The times I touched his shoulders when I looked over him to see something he was showing me while he sat at his desk.

I’m sure he has noticed; even a blind man would have at least noticed the touches. Yet, he has never once allowed his responses to be anything but professional or even so much as asked me out to dinner when it wasn’t a business meeting with clients. I suppose it’s possible that he just isn’t interested, but I don’t get that feeling either. It’s more like he’s just too proper, too professional, to be involved with his subordinate. That would, after all, clearly break the rules.

While Duncan never had a problem making his own rules to be successful in business, he was certainly a stickler for policies and procedures, especially those where HR was involved.

Which brings us to today. For the last two weeks, Duncan and I have been working day and night together on a new project in Beijing. Due to the fourteen-hour time difference currently, it has literally been day and night. Only taking small breaks to sleep, shower, and change clothes. He’s even slept in his office a few times; lucky for him, his office has a private bathroom and shower.

Something about spending so much time with him, sharing virtually every meal, watching him take a power nap on his couch, and having him encourage me and constantly thank me for my help it’s made me want him so badly. I can’t really explain it; I just have this feeling like everything in my life going forward depends on me making him see that I am right here in front of him, and I want nothing more than to be his.

Or perhaps I am just horny, as I haven’t had a man or a woman touch me in three very long years.

Whatever is going on in my brain, well, it’s taking control and about to make me do something pretty damn stupid.

The culmination of months of work and weeks of sleepless nights is currently coming to fruition as Duncan has a video call with his counterpart in Beijing to secure the last portions of our deal. I’d say it was the call of the century, but hopefully, it’s only one call on a road of many bigger ones to come. It’s eight in the evening local time, and it’s just him, and I left in the office.

I’m sitting at my desk; he is at his desk on the call. He’s left the door open, so I can hear, although since I don’t speak Mandarin, I really can’t tell how it’s going, other than he doesn’t sound stressed.

I’m going to plead temporary insanity here because nothing else comes close to explaining what I am about to do.

Deciding that it’s now or never, and knowing that he cannot interrupt this call for any reason, I walk into his office and quietly close the door and lock it. I probably didn’t need to close or lock it since there was nobody else in the building save the security guard downstairs. But at least the safety side of my brain was still partially working.

I made my way to the side of his office, where I knew he would be able to see me in his peripheral vision as his monitor was mostly blocking the view of the door. Then I gave him the most sultry and naughty smile I could and began to unbutton my white blouse.

I took one slow step at a time towards him; with each step, I would loosen a button and rub my hands across my body, between my breasts, and down my hips. I saw his eyes widen as he glanced my way and his hand to the side of the monitor, shooing me away, but I didn’t stop.

As I undid the last button on my blouse, I pulled the bottom of it from my skirt and turned my back to him. I did a little dance as I slowly slid the blouse from my shoulders, twisting my head to look back at him.

I knew at this point, if I wasn’t already fired, going any further would guarantee one of two outcomes. He would take me and make me his, or I would be out of a job, homeless, and without even a car to sleep in. My brain didn’t care, though; it was done waiting for him to pursue me.

I let the blouse slide down my arms and drop to the floor, then slowly turned around, my hands slid up my bare stomach to my lace-covered breast, and I cupped them before giving them a squeeze. I saw his eyes go big as a doe’s in headlights, but he didn’t look away from the camera or falter in his conversation.

When I reached his desk, I quietly pulled one of the chairs that faced his desk just a bit more to the side to ensure I would give him a full view. Then doing the best I could to make a show of it, I unzipped the zipper to my skirt and danced my way behind the back of the chair.

Then wiggled out of my skirt and, facing him, but hidden behind the chair back, lifted the skirt up to show him. I then tossed it into the chair and made my way to the side of the chair. I rubbed my back up and down the back of the chair, my hands cupping and squeezing my breast as I rose up and down in the most sultry stripper move I could muster.

That man has one hell of a poker face, but even it was starting to crack. His eyes kept darting over to watch me instead of the screen, but he didn’t miss a beat of the conversation.

I climbed into the seat facing away from him and made a show of continuing to rub my body. Then slowly, I removed my bra and let the straps slide off my shoulders. Holding the material to my chest with my hands, I turned around and slid off the chair, then made my way to the edge of his desk. Using one arm to conceal my breast, I used the other hand to pull the bra free and set it on his desk, out of sight of the camera.

I then took my left breast into my free hand and lifted it up to the point I could reach my nipple with my tongue and gave it a lick. Even with my D-cup breasts, this wasn’t the easiest feat, but I could tell from his face, despite his best efforts to hide it, it had an effect on him. I made my way back to the chair and sat down with my legs crossed and hands covering my breast.

I pressed my breasts together as tightly as I could while giving him the most lustful look I could manage. Then I released my breasts, and my hands moved down to my knees. I made a show of spreading my legs and then lifted one leg up onto the arm of the chair to ensure he had a perfect view of my thong-covered pussy.

I spent a couple of minutes rubbing my hands up and down my body, squeezing my breasts, and caressing my inner thighs. Then sensing that the shock factor was wearing off, I started to rub myself through my panties while massaging my breast with my other hand.

His desk was a glass top on four legs, so I was able to see under the desk to his lap and could clearly tell that he had a tent developing in his pants.

I continued to rub myself through my panties until I could feel they were quite wet. Then I used one hand to pull them to the side, and then using my other hand ran two fingers up my slit, coating them in my excitement. Making a show of spreading my fingers, showing him my slickness spreading between the fingers, I brought them to my mouth and sucked them.

Then I returned my hand to my womanhood and began to rub myself with the same fingers. I alternated between rubbing my clit and inserting them inside my tight entry.

I was very careful to be absolutely silent as I pleasured myself, but my face was clearly showing my enjoyment.

I reached my climax, and my body contracted hard. I hadn’t orgasmed that hard in a long time, and it was almost impossible to control my scream, but I did it. When I regained my composure, I could see a bit of sweat on his forehead, and I smiled.

I got down on my hands and knees and crawled under his desk. I could see the tent in his pants clearly, and a little spot of moisture soaking through them to show his excitement. He might not have been able to say anything or react, but he certainly seemed to have at least enjoyed the show.

I ran my hands up his thighs, which caused him to tense up, and then ran one hand across his manhood. He jumped a bit, hitting the underside of the desk. Not wanting to cause a problem with his call, I held still for a minute to allow him to recover. Then not one for doing things halfway, I reached up and unzipped his trousers. I then reached through the zipper and freed him through the front opening of his boxers.

His cock stood at full attention before me, the head glistening with his excitement. I began to stroke it gently, using my thumb to rub the tip and spread his excitement. This brought forth more of his own lubrication. I rubbed my fingers on my womanhood, moistening them further, then added a little spit and stroked him more.

I was stroking him up and down a couple of times, then when I reached the head, I would twist my hand around his cock, the tip rubbing against my palm. His excitement was growing with every stroke, and I could tell it was getting harder for him to maintain his composure on the call.

After a few minutes of this, he reached a hand down and tried to get me to stop, but I didn’t. I knew he was close, and I stretched to get my mouth to reach the tip of his cock. Not an easy feat when I had a desk above and a chair below. As I took just the tip between my lips though and stroked him faster with my hand, I was rewarded with his seed releasing into my mouth.

I slowed my stroking and allowed him to give me every last drop. Then I licked the tip clean and slid out from under the desk. I picked up my skirt and blouse and did my best to make getting dressed sexy. I left my bra on his desk as a memento and made my way out of his office and back to my desk.

I sat down and waited. I had to wait nearly two hours for the call to end, and that was plenty of time for panic to set in. What the fuck had I just done, and why? I’ve never done something so daring, so brash, so stupid in my life. I was sure he enjoyed it at least a bit, but was he going to be mad? Had I just practically raped my boss, knowing he couldn’t risk screwing up the call? Was he going to fire me?

The intercom on my phone came to life, and I heard his voice “Meghan, please come into my office.” He said, and he didn’t sound happy. My heart nearly stopped as it sunk to the bottom of my soul.

I stood up, now shaking with panic. I tried to straighten my clothes and prepare for the worst, but I could barely coax my body forward, let alone prepare myself for the worst-case scenario I now knew was coming.

I entered his office and started towards his desk. “Please close the door.” He said sternly.

I did so and made my way to stand in front of his desk in the spot previously occupied by a chair that was still sitting off to the side. My head hung low, and my palms got damp with sweat. My heart was racing so much I could barely hear when he spoke.

“Ms. Davenport, effective immediately, your employment with Townsend Development is terminated.” He said.

My knees nearly buckled, and tears formed in my eyes. There it was, the worst-case scenario confirmed. My world came crashing down. I was going to lose Duncan, my career, and my life, all because I let some part of my brain take control and do something I never should have done in my life.

I said nothing, but for some reason, I gave him a small curtsy and then turned for the door; I had nearly reached it when he stood from his chair.

“Ms. Davenport, I did not dismiss you.” He said loudly and firmly. I froze in my tracks and turned to look at him.

He came around the front of his desk and cleared about a third of it of any papers or decorations, including the bra I had left behind, which now lay on his keyboard. He stood to the side and pointed to the floor in front of his desk. I hesitated, unsure what he meant for me to do.

“Here, now, Ms. Davenport,” he said firmly.

He had never spoken to me like this before, with this tone, this firmness. It took me another moment to process, but I moved over to where we had indicated. I was only five-six and so I had to look up to meet his eyes, but he didn’t look at me. Instead, he took a step back and said, “Bend over.”

“Excuse me?” I asked in shock.

“I said bend over, and I will not say it again.” His words were stern and cold.

I should have made my way out of the building. At this point, he was freaking me out a bit, but I didn’t. Instead, I bent over his desk like I was a child back in Catholic school about to receive a spanking.

His hands found his belt and removed it, and he folded it in half.

“Take off your skirt,” he said.

I hesitated, and his hands reached over, unzipping my skirt and pulling it down to my knees forcefully.

I stood there, my feet on the ground, my chest lying on his desk, in the most humiliating position I could imagine myself in right now. He took a step back from me.

“Ms. Davenport, your actions earlier this evening were in clear violation of company policy. Not only would this be considered sexual harassment, but more than likely also gross misconduct. Not only did you expose yourself to me, but you also molested me without consent, and in doing so, you nearly jeopardized the entire project we have been working so hard on, which could have cost us over a billion dollars.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks onto his desk. He was right; every word was right. I tried to apologize, but he silenced me.

His left hand reached forward and pressed into the middle of my back, holding me down. His right swung his belt, connecting it firmly with my butt. I let out a scream in shock and pain.

“All the years I have spent training you, working with you, teaching you to be my eventual successor. Was I really worth throwing it all away?” he asked as his belt found purchase in my backside again.

Through my tears, I spoke out, I should have absolutely said no, that it wasn’t worth the risk, but I didn’t; I said “Yes.”

“What did you say?” he said with another smack of his belt across my now sore buttocks.

“I said yes.” I got out between sobs. “Yes, it was worth everything if it had meant I got to have you.”

His hand still held me firm, but he didn’t immediately spank me again. Instead, he moved closer and leaned over, looking into my eyes.

“What do you mean if you got to have me?” he asked, this time more softly than his previous words.

“I know what I did was stupid; it was beyond stupid. I don’t know why I did it now, what made me think that I should do it. All I know is that I have been in love with you for a long time, and you haven’t seen it, and I needed you to see it.” I said, barely able to get the words out between sobs.

He stood back up, and his hand spanked my ass; this time, it was his hand, not his belt and his had stayed in place and firmly gripped my butt cheek.

“So you think that I haven’t seen that you’ve been in love with me? That I haven’t seen the times you’ve worn loose blouses or the times you have come in here in slinky outfits. Do you think I haven’t realized those were for me? Whom else would they have been for, the boyfriend you’ve had no time to make? Do you think I haven’t noticed all the extra things you have done for me, taking care of me, making sure I have taken care of myself when I was working too hard?” he asked.

I tried to look up at him, but his hand still held me against the desk.

“I don’t know, you have never said anything. Sure, you have thanked me for the things I have done, but you’ve never said anything that would make me think you realized I was mad for you.” I said.

His hand released my butt check and then quickly made contact again with a hard swat causing me to jerk from the pain. Again though, he didn’t remove it, instead caressing my cheek as though to rub away the pain.

“So you thought that instead of asking me or talking to me, you would come in here and molest me in the middle of the most important call I’ve had in the entire time you have worked for me?” he said, sternness returning to his voice.

“I’m sorry” was all I managed to whimper out.

His hand smacked my ass again, and then I felt it grip my pussy.

“Your actions were rash and dangerous, and I think your punishment needs to fit the crime,” he said. Then he started rubbing his hand against me.

I was frozen in shock and had no idea what he meant or how to respond.

I heard his pants fall to the ground, and then both hands gripped the sides of my thong and pulled it down to my knees.

I heard him spit into his hand, and then he returned to rubbing my mound with his moistened hand.

I had dried up from earlier, especially given his initial reaction, but something stirred in me with his touch.

Oh, I was furious at him for spanking me, raising his voice to me, and firing me, but there was something so erotic about how he was forcefully touching me right now in the midst of all of this.

He removed his hand gain, adding more spit before returning it and rubbing me more.

“How do you like being touched when you don’t have a say in it?” he asked, but I did not answer.

When his hand was sliding freely in a combination of my lubrication and his spit, he stepped up behind me and pressed his cock into me. He was forceful but not so forceful as to hurt me.

“Is this what you wanted? You wanted my cock so bad that you couldn’t ask, you couldn’t let me choose?” he said, thrusting forcefully into me.

All I could do or say was whimper.

He took me with force for a couple of minutes, then he lifted me up a bit and reached an arm below me, his fingers finding their way to my clit.

I was mad, I was hurt, I was confused, but yet my body betrayed me at his touch, and I found pleasure in it. Soon the ministrations of his finger on my nub and the force of his cock slamming into me had me near climax.

I let out a moan, and he grabbed my long caramel-colored hair pulling it towards him. He thrust into me even harder, and I went over the edge, my climax releasing against his manhood.

He pulled himself from me and released me. I nearly fell to my knees despite being laid over the desk.

“How does it feel to have someone force themselves upon you?” he asked, but I did not answer.

“Go in my bathroom and clean yourself up.” He said as he pulled his pants back up.

I quickly pulled my panties back up and grabbed my skirt from the floor. I tried to grab my bra from his keyboard, but he stopped me. “No, that stays with me. You gave it freely, and I am keeping it.” He said.

I didn’t argue and made my way into the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet without opening it. My mind raced. He had never acted like this before, and punishing me? What the hell was that? But then him fucking me and making me climax? How could my body even betray me like that? So many thoughts shifted through my mind.

After a few minutes, I regained my composure. I wet a hand towel in the sink and used it to clean up my smeared makeup. I straightened my outfit and left the bathroom. I saw Duncan sitting on the couch but didn’t say anything to him as I headed for the door.

“Meghan, wait, please. Come join me on the couch.” He said, his voice much softer this time.

I looked over at him, and he patted the spot next to him. I pondered momentarily and then made my way to the couch. Instead of sitting next to him, I sat at the other end.

He turned his body to look at me.

“I’m sorry for my actions a few minutes ago.” He said. “I felt very violated earlier, and I took my anger out on you in a very unprofessional manner.” He finished.

“I see.” Was all I said in response.

He scooted closer to me and reached out his hands for me to take. I turned towards him, and seeing his face and the longing sorrow in his eyes, I took his hands.

“Meghan, I also love you very much. Like you, I have been in love with you for some time. I have not acted on it because it would not be possible for me to maintain a relationship with you and you to remain an employee here. I have also not discussed this with you because if I had misunderstood your actions, well, that would have put both of us in a bad situation. I am sorry that I did not find a way to discuss this with you sooner.” He said.

“Your actions today have forced my hand, though. I meant what I said earlier when I told you that your employment development has been terminated, effective immediately. I cannot be in a relationship with an employee after all.” He said.

“Beginning tomorrow, you will return to the office as a contract employee of Duncan Townsend. To the best of my knowledge, there is nothing that says my executive assistant has to be a direct employee.” He said.

I looked up at him in disbelief. “Does this mean I am not really fired? You’re just going to pay me yourself?” I asked, seeking clarification.

“Well, you have two options. We can forget today ever happened, we go back to the way things have been, but nothing will ever come of our feelings for each other. Or, you are technically fired from Townsend Development. You will lose the apartment and the car. However, I will personally contract you as my executive assistant and pay you a contract rate that will compensate for the loss of benefits.” He explained.

“You will have a week to move out of the apartment, but you will need to turn in the car tomorrow. If you need more time to find someplace, I have a guest bedroom that you can use.” He said.

“As for us, I would very much like to see you on a personal level.” He said with a grin on his face.

I practically jumped into his lap and kissed him with every bit of passion in my being. He returned my kiss and embraced me with his arms.

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