An Afternoon with your Boss

"I'll go for the service training course." You said, meekly, as you looked at your feet.

Emma stood up, and parted her shortly cut red hair to the side. "Right choice there, kiddo. That customer seemed weird as hell." Emma sighed. "Now, where should we start? Look up at me." You listened, and looked up at your boss. She towered over you while you were seated, just a little less so while you were stood at full height. She began unbuttoning her blazer, leaving only a button-up white shirt and short business skirt hiding the rest of her body. She was very well built; strong, even, and it showed. "First step of the company-ordered disciplinary service training of a male staff member. What do you think it is?" Emma smiled, lustfully at you.

"How to treat a customer?" You had no idea, but that was the first thing out of your mouth. "Well, sorta." Emma laughed. "Sensitivity training. Stay in your chair, and do not move." Emma proceeded to unzip her skirt, unveiling a pair of old white and blue striped panties. A bulge was straining through the underwear, her cock almost breaking free before she covered it with her hands. "I haven't had a mouth on me in ages. I've always thought you were a good employee, and with such a cute mouth. Looks like I'll be your mentor the next few months." She chuckled, before shoving your face into her crotch.

The smell of stale coffee and sweat wafted lazily under your nostrils, as Emma's hips gyrated into your face, her hand wrapped around the back of your head. The cotton fibers on her underwear were already pilling, clinging to your face as Emma groaned loudly. Her hand snaked up around your hair and grabbed, tightly, before pulling you backwards, so that your eyes were centered on Emma's face, looking down at you with an almost sinister intent.

"First step of sensitivity training is to be cordial, even in the face of our rather rude customers. How about a little role play?" Emma said, smiling down at you. Her blue eyes pierced through yours, betraying her masquerade of corporate professionalism as you could literally smell the desire that she was radiating. Emma, still maintaining a vice grip on your hair, used her other hand to scrunch your lips together. Her hand was cold, and smelled of the same stale sweat and coffee that was imprinted on her underwear - even stronger than her underwear, causing you to recoil. Emma noticed that you were trying to inch away from her, and laughed.

"Oh, my hand. Yeah, kiddo, I knew that you were going to choose me for the disciplinary training before I asked, so I spent some time... preparing." The last words from her mouth slipped from her tongue almost animalistically, as Emma's smile stretched to both sides of her cheeks.

"Right then, kiddo. Role play time. I'm a customer who has had their order *ahem* wrongly made. I have come up to the counter to correct my order, but... you... the barista... have not offered me the complimentary FutaBux guarantee. Begin." Emma's hand was still forcing your lips into a scrunched, 'O'-shape; you realized she wasn't going to let up, so you attempted to speak through her grip.

"I'm soury thwat yer cauhfee wasn't mwade to expwectashuns" Emma's eyebrow raised, her lips still parted in a sadistic smile.

"I can barely understand you, Doug. Minus one point." Emma spit onto your face, causing you to visibly recoil again. Maintaining her vice-grip on your cheeks, she brought her face an inch away from yours. The office chair you had sat down in began to creak, filling the room with an uncomfortable squeal, as Emma's weight was practically over you - her pudgy body straddling you over the seat. A small hint of lavender was encompassed by a much stronger, acrid odour of sweat as Emma breathed her lewdity onto your face.

"Listen here, kid. I come here for a coffee, and you offer me some half-assed apology instead of solving my problem? I want to speak to a manager, now." She hissed her final words, now sitting in your lap, her short, fiery red hair resting on your forehead.

Well, that was meta. You looked up at Emma quizzically, as she was an inch from her face, breathing heavily. The air between you two was statically charged with her sex drive, as her cheeks reddened. The top buttons of her white business shirt had come undone, revealing an equally reddened chest, as her massive breasts were struggling to break free from the confines of her undersized shirt. Looks like she can't fit in a large, after all.

"So, kiddo." Emma broke character for a second, exhaling her hot breath onto your face. The smell of coffee once more filled your nostrils with a heavy heat, as she brought her lips mere centimeters away from yours.

"You gonna make this customer speak to a manager? Or are you going to problem solve and potentially get a raise?"

Swallowing the fearful lump that had cemented itself in your throat, you meekly brought your arms up to Emma's hips, and squeezed, causing her to groan loudly before she tightened her squeeze on your face. Her vice grip on your cheeks began to sting - a low, rumbling pain that ebbed and flowed with her lust.

"Well, you fucking idiot? Where's your manager?" Emma hissed once more down at you, nearly face-to-face. She pursed her lips, forming a small droplet of spit that leisurely followed gravity down into your mouth. Mustering up any courage that was fearfully hidden away, you dryly swallowed her spit, and croaked out a few words from your scrunched mouth.

"Plrease, miss. I wrant to sholve this. Wht can I do?" Emma smiled; a wicked, triumphant smile, as she leaned back off of you and removed her grip before standing up, a weight feeling like it had been lifted.

Looking up at your boss, you realized she towered over you - her chubby body was heaving as you could nearly see the littany of ideas that Emma was playing through in her mind as she looked down at you. She took off her shirt to reveal a white and blue sports bra, neatly sagging over her pudgy stomach as they fought to escape from their confinement. Emma once again straddled you in the chair, this time standing up, so that her belly embraced your face. Though chubby, your initial assumptions about her strength were front and center as you could nearly feel the power behind her weight - everything about her was strong, the odours included. Her belly was slick with sweat and lust, as her hand found the back of your head once more and enveloped your cheeks against her. Soft groans escaped from her lips as she used her other hand to caress the growing package underneath her strained, sweat-soaked panties, the sound of sopping wet fabric the only indicator of her intent. Suddenly, with a rather abrupt *shlick*, Emma unstuck her belly from your cheek, and took a few steps back from you, giving a full view at her massive frame. Her thick, dimpled legs were spread, as she scrunched the massive package within her cotton panties and squeezed it a few times.

"Well, now that you mention. I am feeling a little backed up. I work long, hard days in construction, you see." Emma seemed to be having a field day with the roleplaying, as her words trailed off into her imagination.

"...and I come home to an empty house, with these sweaty, full balls."

The sharp sound of fabric snapping alerted your full attention to her crotch, as she deftly maneuvered her cock and low-hanging nuts from their cotton enclosure. Her balls had looked as if they'd been kept concealed for ages, as they dumbly fell out, acquiescing to their sheer weight and size. Wrinkled and massive, they pendulously hung, swinging to and fro as if to hypnotize you; but what truly caused a pang of fear to shoot down your spine was what lay in front. A porcelain white, wrinkled, wrist-thick, cock sprung loose, drooping freely and hanging down nearly to Emma's knee. The foreskin, aided by the gravitational pull of her menacingly veiny cock, was pulled over the entirety of her shaft, like someone's wrist not being pulled all the way through a sweater. As your eyes, nearly hypnotized by the sheer sinister nature of her meat, moved up along her length, you winced in your chair as your gaze finally rested on the thick, coarse forest of red pubic hair, staring plainly back at you. The bushy, unkempt strands of hair coalesced cleanly across her pubic mound, only sparsely dotting arond the sides of her legs. The entire time, Emma's smile and gaze was fixated on you, as her hands shook her fat cock, stirring it from slumber and infusing it with all of her lust.

"So, am I going to speak to a manager?" Her words fell lazily out of her mouth, almost in a sing-song tone, as if she knew the answer to her question already.

Sighing to yourself, and dejectedly looking down at your feet, you muttered.

"No, miss."

"Ah. I didn't hear you."

Suddenly, you found yourself face-to-stomach once more - Emma moved with a surprising speed, given how big she was.

"Will. I. Have. To. Speak. To. A. Manager?" Her final word was accompanied by a swift slap, which served to rattle you from your own internal despair. A hard sting accompanied the smack, as your face instantly pinkened from her heavy hand. You looked up at Emma's face - her smile had all but faded away to a lecherous smirk as the smell of her sweat assaulted your nose once more. She grabbed your hair, pulling it back so that your head was tilted directly up, before bringing her face down to yours once more.

"Think very carefully, kiddo. You're still in the sensitivity training." Emma retreated from your personal space, and released your hair from her painful grip. Rubbing your head, you looked up at her and meekly let the words slip out of your lips.

"I will do anything, miss. I promise."

A widened smirk indicated that Emma had finally broken through. She put her hands on her hips, looking down at you with a sense of lustful pride.

"Well done, Doug. I can see that you were ready to go the mile, even though our *construction worker* wasn't the kindest. That concludes our sensitivity training, and I must say, you excelled. Now it's time to demonstrate your knowledge of the FutaBux guarantee."

Emma sat on her desk, and spread her powerful legs. her thick uncut meat resting daintily on the edge of her table. From your chair, you saw a suspect glob of precum sleazily hanging from the tip of her cock, almost taunting the inevitability of what was to come.

"Now, Doug. Do you know the FutaBux guarantee?" Emma's hand patted the base of her cock expectantly, causing the long, veiny mast to pulse with debauched energy.

You gulped, and looked at her. "Yes, miss. It's to please the customer, with coffee or care. For the male staff, there's been an emphasis on that 'care' part."

Emma laughed. "You're a bright one, and sarcastic. I knew you had a cute mouth, but it's a smart one too. I'm going to enjoy mentoring you for the next month. Now, shall we continue with our dear construction worker?"

Emma began fondling one of her breasts with one hand, and massaging her massive, cum-filled orbs with the other.

"So, no manager, eh? Well then, c'mere and show me what you're gonna do to fix this situation there, sport. Get on yer knees, and shuffle over here."