Are we past the days when a powerful man can demand sex from a woman? It happened to me 15 years ago and I gave in, as I recount in delicious (leaving a bad taste in my mouth) detail on my sister site, The Fellatrices. What about you, ladies? Tell your stories. And you guys...I know you're out there. What were you thinking when you used your authority to get laid?
Give it up. Tell me everything.
11 comments:
I slept with my boss in my first job right out of high school. I was pretty and sexy then, and have no regrets. He was married, of course. But he never pressured me. Now the human resources nazis and lawyers would have fired him. Of course there are situations like yours that are our of bounds. But I loved the feeling of being desirable to this smart, talented man -- him wanting me instead of his wife -- and it was great. No regrets.
surprised you didn't take out your government issue 9mm and shoot him in the foot
Too much report writing!
well, true about that, but just imagine the new name they would have given you to replace Strawberry.....
When I was a young boss, I had an affair with a younger colleague under my supervision. She was gorgeous and willing, but also very innocent. I never applied conscious coercion, but it was still wrong, given my position. But, my god, she was so beautiful...
When I was 18, I slept with my boss -- I worked in a dry cleaner. He kind of intimidated me, but I also found him attractive. He sure was better in bed than my bf of the time, but we only did it a couple times -- he was married and afraid of the wife. Later I heard he tried to sleep with all the new girls.
Alright, here goes. I'm not proud of my story, but it happened, so why not share? Maybe someone else will benefit...if not from sheer titillation, then at least from the aftermath. Think of it as an erotic story with a moral.
I'm thirty-two, the manager at a local gym. Two years ago I had an 18-year-old employee who was super flirtatious, and open about her sexual exploits. We began hanging out socially. I was going through a breakup at the time, and she was fun and silly and energetic, the perfect distraction. One night she attended a party at my house (one of my female roommates invited her), and at the end of the night I found her passed out on my bed.
No, I didn't take advantage of the situation. Yet. I entertained some chivalrous notion that I'd lecture her in the morning--insist that we maintain professional distance, etc.--and I did exactly that, slept beside her and then gave this poor hungover teenager my rehearsed spiel.
But she started in with the pouting. Did I not find her attractive? Was this some kind of excuse to justify rejection? Finally she gave me the standard young-girl-older-man rationale about how she wasn't looking for a boyfriend, just a friends-with-benefits style relationship, and guys her age were too clingy. She knew I was stressed out, and she just wanted to help. What could it hurt?
And even though alarms were blaring in my head--too good to be true! too good to be true!--my typical Guy Brain did the blinders thing, and I thought Fuck It. What could possibly go wrong?
Nothing, for about eight months. It was glorious, a completely selfish one-way sexual relationship. She had an amazing mouth with a soft tongue and she enjoyed our power dynamic, was willing to do whatever I told her. She sucked me off in the car, at work, at her friend's house. She'd give me hour-long backrubs while we watched movies together and then gradually work her way down...I'd roll over and switch on some porn, and she'd bob tirelessly above my lap until I emptied in her mouth.
She liked it rough, or said she did (probably because she sensed that I was innately dominant--women can vibe these things--and wanted to make me happy). Whatever. I wasn't going to question my luck. Days when I woke up with morning wood I'd reach over, get a good grip on her hair and just piston her face up and down until I unloaded in the back of her throat. She was like a live, warm, obliging sex doll, and I took full advantage.
I lost count of how many times I fucked her face, how many loads she swallowed. I probably saw more of the back of her head than any other portion of her anatomy.
But it couldn't last. Call me delusional but I believe i am, at the core, a decent person, and the guilt began gnawing away at my conscience with sharp little ferret teeth. I began changing our routine, emphasizing the Friends over the Benefits. She still blew me whenever I wanted, still dropped to her knees and slurped my cock while I called her a whore and fingered her ass, but we also increasingly spent our time going out to movies, restaurants...relationship stuff. Stupid.
She finally confessed her undying love. I was angry, felt like she'd suckered me in with sex. We argued. She quit her job, but not before she came clean to a couple of coworkers. Word got out. I kept my job, but it was not pretty.
Long and short of it is that sexual relationships based on power disparities are doomed to turn ugly. If the only reason you're blowing a guy is because he's your boss, you'd better have a realistic and attainable short-term goal in mind. Get that promotion, or personal validation, or blackmail photos, whatever, and then move on.
That's my twenty cents. Hope it helps...
But did you go down on her?
Here's my story. When I was seventeen, I was in the girls' room at highschool, smoking a joint. It was after school and nobody was around. Until I heard the door swing open and there was Mr. Jones.
He was one of the coaches and was very imposing, always hassling the students about PDAs and smoking in the bathroom. Did I mention he was black? So I am totally busted, and I think he's going to call the cops until he walks back to the door and locks it.
"You're going to jail for that," he said. I was already in tears -- I was not a major stoner at all, just stressed out from school and home. "Or," he said, "you can do me a favor."
"What?"
He pointed to his crotch. I was still a virgin and was terrified. I wasn't on the pill. I was provocatively dressed in a miniskirt and tank top.
But he had other ideas. Obviously he'd done this before. He came close and started kissing me, ramming his tongue down my throat, feeling me up.
"Shit, you're a hot little bitch," he said. Then he unzipped his pants and his very hard cock popped out. He pushed me down on my knees and pulled my face toward it. It all happened so fast, it was in my mouth and he was giving me instructions. I must have done okay, he was leaning against the wall, moaning.
"god I want to fuck you,"he moaned, which make me work his cock even harder. Suddenly he came in my mouth. It seemed like a deluge and ran out on my blouse and his pants. It tasted and smelled vile. He held my face against his crotch and kept fucking my mouth.
I agonized about what to do. He would just deny it, and he was a teacher who could have gotten me arrested for the pot. He was a predator bastard, and I wish I had had the guts to bite it off.
I bet for the rest of the year he gave you a knowing smile. My high school girlfriend had a similar situation, except it was a woman predator. She was caught by he volleyball coach. She was actually dealing, so she was really afraid of jailtime. The coach said she should come over that night and they could talk about it. And she laid it on the line: I'll narc you out or you sleep with me. So it happened. She told me about it much later. I wanted to kill the bitch.
I'm 16. I used to work at a huge restaurant franchise that generally employs teenagers and young adults. While I worked there, the boss of another of the same store in an area close by used to visit a lot and see how things were going. 30, gorgeous, married with kids, very personable and friendly. Everyone loved and respected him.
We talked a few times, things were bad at my home and he noticed if I was upset so he would chat to me about it.
Eventually I quit, but we were
friends online. I would still talk to him. One night, he was on really late. I started talking to him and he told me he was drunk so he "probably wasn't the most sensible person to talk to". I said I didn't mind and pretty soon we were flirting. A lot. He alluded to wanting to meet up with me, so I encouraged it. I snuck out, we met up at stupid o'clock outside in the night.
When I first walked up to him, I lent in to hug him and he kissed me. Open mouth, tongue, deep kisses. He tasted like wine. I sucked his dick, he fucked me from behind while I stood moaning, leaning over railings. He liked to spank me and he gave me the best oral sex I've ever had. Later that night he told me he thought I was a sweet, quiet church girl. I have been told a fair few times that people's first impression of me is "innocent". How far from the truth.
Two days later he told me he was sorry and that it never should have happened, blah blah. I told him that was a shame because, given the chance, I'd do it again more than happily. He put up a little fight, there was a bit of genuine resistance. But persistence prevailed, and we met up again. And again. And Again.
I couldn't say how many times we've met in total so far. His wife wouldn't have sex with him, so I do. Our meets started at night with him drunk, but the longer it went on, the braver we got. after 5 or 6 months we were fucking on my bed while my family wasn't home and he'd taken a little break from work.
I've always had a thing for older men in a position of power. I don't regret it one bit, it's been fucking amazing and honestly, I hope it continues for a while.
My next conquest is going to be a teacher at my school (;
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