The Boss' Secret (Callahan's Secretary)



Grace Marcum entered the office that Wednesday morning, her dark skirt skimming her rounded hips and thighs.  The perfectly lady-like hem stopped just above her knees.  Beneath the skirt, she wore no panties, as instructed.  The new garter belt and stockings that Anthony had presented her with just that morning were soft against her skin.  He bought her lingerie frequently, as well as other gifts.  Initially, Grace had resisted accepting gifts from him, but he could be persuasive.  He’d been her boss for two years, but it wasn’t until he’d discovered her journal, chocked full of naughty fantasies about him, that he’d ever given any indication that he returned her feelings. 

Grace thought of the argument they’d had only the week before.  Anthony Callahan was not a man to be crossed.  He normally got his way in most things, but in that particular battle, Grace had stood her ground.  She wanted to maintain the secrecy of their relationship.  People at the office tended to look down on her anyway due to the fact that she was at least three dress sizes larger than anyone else who worked there.  She wasn’t ashamed of their relationship, but the idea of all those snarky women from the office speculating on what Anthony could possibly see in her made her feel sick. 

Striding into the executive corridor, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, Grace unlocked the outer office and walked to her desk.  Placing her purse in the bottom drawer, she hung up her coat, and turned to the coffee maker to begin making the coffee that was requisite for the weekly staff meeting. While waiting for it to brew, she fired up her computer, and then began preparing a tray with styrofoam cups and an assortment of creamers.  It was imperative to her not to change anything about her routine.  Some of her coworkers had already noticed that something was different about her.  One of the accounting clerks had commented on it in the elevator just that morning, remarking that it took a very special man to put that kind of glow in a woman’s cheeks.  Remembering the intense spanking Anthony had delivered to her bottom last night,  Grace had blushed furiously and mumbled a noncommittal response. 

“Good morning, Ms. Marcum.”

Grace smiled to herself at the sound of Anthony’s voice behind her.  Turning her head, she glanced at him over her shoulder, trying not to think about how amazing he looked naked, his hard body looming above hers.  “Good morning, Mr. Callahan.  The coffee should be ready momentarily.”

“Thank you.  I could use a little extra caffeine this morning... I had a very late night.”

Grace blushed, wanted to scold him, but knew that he was just trying to goad her into saying something at the office that would give them away.  “Maybe you can get some rest this weekend,” she suggested mildly, pouring a cup of the steaming liquid for him. 

His fingers brushed hers as he took the cup from her.  It was the slightest of touches, but it was charged.  “I sincerely hope not,” he said. 

Grace’s breath hitched in her chest at the hot look in his eyes.  “Behave,” she admonished quietly. 

“Make me,” he said, just as softly, but with intent. 

“Not at work,” she hissed, glancing worriedly toward the door. 

Anthony relented.  He didn’t like it, but he’d agreed to Grace’s condition that their relationship be kept a secret.  Personally, he would have shouted it from the rooftop.  “Okay.  But I’ll be damned glad when it’s Friday.  I’ve booked a suite at the Grand.”  The Grand International was one of the oldest and most luxurious resorts in the state.  It was also one of the most romantic.

“I’m looking forward to it too.  Now we have to go.  Your meeting is starting.”

Anthony took a sip from his coffee and followed Grace down the hall toward the boardroom.  He was about to step forward to hold the door for her when one of the other executives beat him to it.  Richard Beatty was the assistant VP of Marketing.  He was young to have that kind of position, but he did a damned good job of it.  Still, in spite of his work record, there was something about the guy that bugged him.  Anthony had always felt he was working an angle.  Now, seeing the way that the younger man smiled at Grace, Anthony gritted his teeth. 

“You look very nice today, Ms. Marcum.  Have you done something different with your hair?”

“Thank you, Mr. Beatty, but no I haven’t changed it,” Grace replied.  Anthony watched her duck her head, saw the blush steal up her neck.  He knew that Grace was shy and very self conscious about her appearance and that blush represented true embarrassment for her.  He also knew that Richard Beatty would see it as something else altogether.  It would look like flirting to him and that could only make matters worse.   There was something dark brewing inside him.  It was jealousy, and even though it was irrational and he didn’t doubt Grace for a moment, it still rankled that he couldn’t publicly claim her. 

“Enough with the pleasantries.  We’ve all got busy schedules, so let’s get started,” he said.  If his tone was a bit harsh, he chose to ignore it, as did everyone else.  He noted that Grace took up her position in the corner of the room, observing and taking notes for him as she always did.  More than once during the course of that meeting, he saw Richard Beatty stealing covert glances at her long, curvy legs. 

The meeting went quickly, addressing various issues related to the acquisition of a new company that had been floundering under its current management.  Anthony found that he was less interested in it than the byplay of Beatty’s lingering glances.  As everyone filed out of the room, Anthony was hot on Grace’s sensible heels when one of his VP’s stopped him.  It was an inconsequential matter, really, but it was something that they would have to address eventually.  Finishing the conversation, Anthony headed down the hall and into his office.  Grace was seated at her desk and Richard Beatty was standing in front of her. 

“Did you need something, Beatty?” he demanded, his tone short and abrupt. 

The other man looked startled and turned to face him, “No, Mr. Callahan.  I was just chatting with Ms. Marcum about her plans for the weekend.”

“I have a business to run, Beatty.  There’s no time for chit chat.  Can I see you in my office, Ms. Marcum?”

“Certainly, Mr. Callahan,” Grace replied evenly.  “Excuse me, Mr. Beatty.”

Leaving the other man mumbling to himself as he exited the office, Grace followed Anthony into his office.  Outwardly, she appeared calm, but inside she was fuming.  She could not believe how he was behaving.  Closing the door behind her, she whirled on him immediately, only to be greeted by his face mere inches from hers.  Before she could even utter a protest, his lips were on hers, forcefully, as he pressed her against the door.  His hands tugged at her hair, tilting her head back to ravage her mouth.  She was gasping for breath, fighting to hold onto her anger in the midst of the sensual onslaught.  It was impossible.  Even though the kiss was punishing, a reflection of his temper more than his lust, she was helpless in the face of it.  Eagerly, she kissed him back, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. 

Grace moved her hips against him, feeling the hard ridge of his cock against her.  After the first time, they had decided it was too risky to engage in that type of behavior in the office, especially during office hours.  But at that moment, Grace could think of nothing but having him inside her, feeling his hot, hard length sliding into her.  When he put his hands beneath her hips, lifting her and pinning her to the door, so that his erection pressed against the bare mound of her sex, she moaned against his mouth and clasped her hands around his neck. 

The kiss broke finally, his lips dragging away from hers, only to settle into the hollow of her neck.  His teeth scraped against that sensitive skin and she shivered.  “Anthony, I need you!”

“Not Beatty?”

She smiled at him, “No one but you.  Please!”  When she felt his fingers sliding over the damp lips of pussy, gently stroking the cleft, she closed her eyes on a groan.  “Yes!”

“It drives me insane,” he said, his voice a hot whisper against her neck.  “I can’t stand seeing other men look at you.  I hate not being able to tell the world you’re mine!”

“I know... But what would people say?  I’m your secretary!  It’s every bad cliche in the book!” she protested.  It was hard to think of all her very good reasons while he was doing such delicious things with his mouth and his hands.

“It’s bullshit, Grace.  Nobody’s opinion matters but ours.”

“I don’t want to fight,” she said, stroking his face gently, trailing her fingers along the roughened skin of his jaw.

“Then what do you want?” he asked. 

Reaching between them, she deftly loosened his belt and then unfastened his pants.  “I want you.”

Anthony was lost.  He wanted to demand that she drop the secrecy, he wanted to push her on why she felt it was such a terrible idea.  But with the wet heat of her welcoming sex pressed against him, framed by the midnight silk of the garter belt and stockings he’d bought for her, it was too much temptation.  He pressed his cock against the damp cleft of her pussy, moving against her until those soft lips parted and her heat surrounded him.  He groaned deeply, savoring the silken glide of his cock between the honeyed walls of her sex.  There was nothing else that compared to that feeling.  It was perfection. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded. 

“I’m yours, Anthony... only yours,” she said, her voice little more than a breathless moan. 

He thrust into her again, driving so deeply that it was impossible to tell where her body ended and his began.  The inner muscles of her sex clenched around him, increasing the delicious friction with every advance and retreat of his cock.  No woman had ever gotten to him the way Grace had.  The unrequited lust from before he’d found her naughty little journal was nothing in comparison to the insatiable need that he felt for her after having her.  “Fuck, Grace!  You drive me crazy.”

She smiled at him then, and then she began to whisper, her breath hot against his ear, and the most deliciously wicked things falling from her beautifully shaped lips.    “You feel so good inside me.  Your thick cock filling me up... Feel how wet I am for you, how much I want you!” He knew she was only doing it to drive him crazy, and it worked.

Reaching between their joined bodies, Anthony touched the swollen bud of her clit, trapping it between two fingers.  With every thrust the pressure on that sensitive bundle increased, and she was soon gasping for breath, unable to do anything more than moan incoherently.  He felt the first flutters of her orgasm, the walls of her sex clenching rhythmically around him.  Gritting his teeth, he fought the urge to simply lose himself in her.  When the last of the contractions receded, he withdrew from her, instantly regretting the loss of her warmth. 

“You didn’t... Why did you stop?” she asked. 

“I need your mouth, Grace,” he whispered.  “I want to see your beautiful lips closing around my cock.”

She smiled at him, and as he lowered her legs to the floor, she dropped to her knees before him.  Grace loved the taste of him, the satin over steel of his cock gliding between her lips.  She’d thought frequently over the past month with him that she enjoyed performing the act as much as he enjoyed receiving it.  Deliberately, she looked up at him as she traced the thick ridge below the head of his cock with her tongue.  The breath that hissed out between his clenched teeth told her just how close he was.  Another long, slow lick, this time from the head all the way to the base of his cock, and then further, until she could massage the tight spheres of his balls with her lips and tongue. 

“Grace, you’re fucking killing me,” he whispered. 

Her fingernails scraped lightly, gently over his balls as she worked her way back up, this time closing her lips over the thick, blunt head.  She could taste her own essence on his skin.  His hands delved into her hair then, holding her head tightly, as he thrust into her mouth.  She forced her jaws to relax, taking him deeper, allowing his cock to slide in and out of her mouth with ease.  His thrusts became shorter, faster.  In response, she tightened her lips around him, pressing her tongue firmly against the thick veins and ridges along the underside of his cock.  The hands in her hair tightened painfully for just a moment as his release came.  The hot liquid flooded her mouth and she savored it, swallowing each drop.  He was utterly spent, one hand pressed against the door, leaning his weight heavily against it as he breathed raggedly.  Looking up at him, she knew she was desperately in love with him, but she kept the words to herself, unable to take the risk that would come with speaking them aloud. 

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