I always thought that being a secretary for a boss like Mr. Harris would be a chore—coffee, reports, calls. But damn, he was a real character: tall, with those broad shoulders that stretched his shirt, and eyes that sometimes slid over me like I was something tasty rather than just an employee. I was 28, he was in his late 30s, divorced, and there was talk around the office that he was no saint. And me? I was just trying to keep it together, but inside I sometimes fantasized about him pinning me to the desk. Silly, right? But that business trip changed everything. We flew to Chicago for a conference – he was speaking, I was assisting. The hotel was fancy, one room for two, but with separate rooms, like a suite. "We're saving the company's budget," he said with a grin when we checked in. It was a free evening, the conference started the next day. "Anna, let's go have dinner? We can't just sit in the room," he suggested, and I nodded, feeling something inside me skip a beat. I put on that black dress that hugged my hips and high heels – not for him, of course, just... well, you know. The hotel restaurant was cozy, with dim lighting and a view of the city. We sat at a table by the window, ordered steaks and a bottle of red wine. "Tell me about yourself, Anna. Are you always so focused at work, but outside the office?" he asked, pouring me a glass. The wine was tart, warm, and after the second sip I relaxed. "Well, Mr. Harris..." "Call me Alex, for fuck's sake. We're not in the office." Okay, Alex. We chatted about all sorts of stuff - his divorce, how his wife was annoying him with her demands, my exes who were losers. He laughed, touching my hand accidentally, but I felt a thrill. Inside, I was thinking, Damn, he's looking at my lips. Does he want to kiss me? Or is the wine playing tricks on him? Dinner dragged on, the wine ran out, and we ordered a second bottle. I was already giggling at his jokes, and he was telling stories from his youth, about how he almost got into trouble with some girl in college. "You're beautiful, Anna. You know, I've noticed for a long time," he suddenly said quietly, and his leg under the table touched mine. I didn't move away. My heart was pounding, my legs were warm, wet - damn, I was aroused from just looking at him. "Alex, you're my boss. Is this... unethical?" I whispered, but with a smile, provocatively. "To hell with ethics. We're on a business trip, no one will know." We finished our wine and went to our room. In the elevator he pressed me against the wall, kissed me – roughly, greedily, his tongue sliding into my mouth, his hands squeezing my ass. I moaned, feeling his cock pressing against me through his pants – big, hard. “God, Anna, you’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, and we stumbled into the room, tearing off our clothes. He pushed me onto the bed, pulled my dress down, and his lips found my breasts, my nipples hardening under his tongue. I ran my fingers through his hair, thinking: “Yes, finally. I want all of him.” He moved lower, spreading my legs, and his tongue darted between my legs. The cunnilingus was... amazing. His tongue circled my clit, sucking it gently, then harder, and his fingers slid inside – I was so wet I could hear a slurping sound. “Delicious, Anna. So sweet,” he whispered, and I writhed, clutching at the sheets. The orgasm washed over me in a wave, and I screamed, squeezing his head with my thighs. “Yes, cum for me,” he growled, not stopping. Then I rolled him over onto his back. "It's my turn now," I said hoarsely, pulling his pants down. His cock burst free, big, thick, veiny, the head glistening with lube. I licked my lips, took it into my mouth. Deepthroat, I sucked greedily, swallowing as deep as I could, feeling it pressing into my throat. He moaned, holding my hair, "Suck it, baby, deeper. Fuck, that feels good." I choked, but kept going, drool running down my chin, and he fucked my mouth, thrusting his hips. My thoughts in my head: "I want him to cum inside me so badly." But he stopped me, turned me over. "I want your ass, Anna. Do you mind?" he asked, and I nodded, although I knew it would hurt. He applied lube - a lot, stretched the hole with his fingers, and slowly entered. It hurt, yes, it burned like fire, but I relaxed, and the pain mixed with pleasure. "How awesome it is to fuck you in the ass," he growled, accelerating. I moaned, pushing back, his big cock filling me completely. Anal was intense, rough - he slapped my ass, pulled my hair. "All wet, flowing," he said, and his fingers found the clitoris, rubbing it. We fucked like this, doggy style, he went deep, and I felt the orgasm roll over me again – from the anus, from his hands. “I’m cumming!” I screamed, my body shaking, squeezing around him. He growled, pushing harder: “Me too… fuck, I’m cumming!” And he came inside, the sperm hot, filling me. We collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, sweaty, happy. Afterwards he hugged me and kissed my neck. "It was incredible, Anna. Do you regret it?" he asked quietly. I turned over and smiled: "No. I want more." And we fell asleep like that, intertwined. The next morning everything was awkward, but with a spark – the relationship changed, became closer. On the business trip we repeated this every night, and when we returned, we sometimes hid in his office. He became not just a boss, but my lover. Emotions? Passion, fear of exposure, but also joy – we both enjoyed ourselves, real, without falsehood. Life became brighter, filled with meaning.