How To Get Fired While Having An Affair With Your Boss.

Heather and I had started out as employer and employee on her horse ranch, but we quickly moved into another realm. After about three months of working for her, I was suddenly getting paid differently. Needless to say I had to pick up another job as working for Heather wasn't paying bills. Luckily, with her help, I got on as a local horse trainer and only had to work three or four hours a day to be able to have more than enough money to pay bills.

Her workaholic husband was oblivious to me and my goings on around the ranch. He hardly noticed as Heather and I would step out of the barn, fixing our clothes or the way she would look at me flirtatiously. Hell, he didn't even like horses and hardly ever went out into the fields, much less near the barn. The times I did see him, he was yelling at Heather because of this or that. She never took that well and would turn red in the face yelling right back at him. As for me, I kept my distance from the man and never said more than a hello or good bye.

In part, that is why I think Heather was attracted to me. As a rule, I never yell. From my years working with horses, yelling was one thing you never do. Cooing and baby talk work best with animals in my experience. Any form of reprimand was quick and to the point, followed by calm, collective and positive urging. Women like that, I've been told.

Anyway, while her husband was away, Heather and I were usually busy screwing each other like rabbits in spring. Damn we were hot for each other. Working away from the barn in the open fields was all Heather could do to keep her hands off my ****. Open fields never stopped me as I was always handsy when the chance presented itself.

Hell, that woman would taunt the hell out of me. She come out to work in a little bikini, chaps and boots. Then she would work all day like that, not ever letting me put a hand on that sexy tight body, like holding a t-bone steak in front of a starving dog. Later, in the barn she would finally let me at her and I was ravenous, tearing at her little bikini. Soon it became a game, and when I finally got my way, I would leave her chaps on. Just her smelly chaps, that's all. Soon, she wanted me in only chaps and we were ******* like dirty cowhands. Well, that is, until the day I zipped my butt in my chaps. Still have the scar and its and beautiful memory for sure.

Our affair went on for a year. Odd really, when I think about it. Heather was like my girlfriend of sorts. During the day we would go out to lunch, like it was diner, and movies. At night, when her husband returned, I would head for home completely satisfied. I never realized there was anything different about us. Well, until I had to explain to my family why I wasn't dating any girls. My brother actually asked if I was guy, being that I never tried to pick up any girls at the bars we frequented.

Yeah, yeah, that got me thinking. Was my relationship with Heather healthy? I asked her and she laughed at me saying, "Go find yourself a girlfriend. Have fun." She then told me that she still slept with her husband several times a week and loved him very much.

"What about us?" Was my next question. Again she laughed saying we were having fun. I like the ideal of fun.

So the next friday I went with my brother to the bar and tried my damnedest to pick of a chick. Well, you all know how that goes. Yeah, nothing! Not even a phone number. I'm not a bad looking guy. Hell, I think I'm pretty good looking. Besides that, I worked with horses for a living at that time. That's like going fishing to the best bait in the world, guaranteed to catch the biggest, baddest fish, and coming up dry. Anther two Friday nights and I was done. Heather wasn't holding out, so why try to find something else.

We went on doing our thing like before and just for fun I would go to bars with my brother and pretend to hit on women, just for show. Then it happened. I met Allison. She was this little sad looking redhead sitting alone at the corner of the bar downing margaritas like there was no tomorrow. She was wafer thin with little pert **** and hardly a butt to hold on to. She had nice red lips that matched her hair. Now, I'm a redhead too, so it was just natural for me to playfully ask where she got her hair. (Its a redhead kind of joke, because random people ask that. That or the common man joke of do the curtains match the drapes, which has been over done.) I said I found my hair abandoned on the street.

She laughed and we started talking. Allison was married and her husband, she had found out, was cheating on her with a neighbor. Not that he told her, she just saw them at it one day as she was coming home. She said that the house was empty but his car was in the drive. She just happened to look out the side window and saw her man kissing the woman in the kitchen next door. She didn't know what to do or what to say. She just started diner like normal, smiled when he came in and pretended it was all a nightmare. Come Friday she is sitting alone at the bar contemplating what to do next.

After a few drinks, I share my Heather escapades with her. I tell her how I feel like I don't want to see other women, but then again how I'm finding the whole situation of being with a married woman crazy. She asks if I love Heather. Again it got me thinking. In a way I loved her and I still love her now. If Heather needed me for something I would come running no matter where I was or where she was. And however odd it seems now, Allison and I had something in common.

I met her at the same bar Saturday and Sunday night. And by that time her husband had grown suspicious and was calling her cell phone every ten minutes wanting her to come home. Finally, she just turned off her phone and offered to pay cash for us to stay at the local hotel.

Drunk sex is not the pretties experience in the world, but it was fun at times. I recall I was ******* Allison over the side of the bed right after we went in the room. I just hiked up her dress, pulled her panties off and started drilling. She loved it, asking me to pull her hair and slap that little ***. Slapping her was not what she expected and she let out a scream of pain, asking where I learned to slap a woman. Heather liked it hard, so why not Allison, I thought. Though in retrospect, Heather had the meaty round *** of a dancer that you could hold in an open hand, Allison a tight cheerleader like little butt more suited to pinching.

I held back a little and we got into a rhythm of rocking back and forth, until Allison stated, "Oh, MY GOD!"

Not what you think, believe me. She jumped off the bed and ran into the bathroom holding her mouth. Over the toilet you puked up everything she had to drink that night and more. I held her red hair there, until she drifted off to sleep. Being that she was covered in puke, I started a bath and put her in. She was symi-lucied as I washed her, even helping me fill her up. It was as if she was directing me from her sleep where to move my hand and how long it should stay there. It wasn't like she was going to get off, she just liked being touched, I'm sure.

Several times, she drifted off and almost submerged in the bath water. The the third time trying to keep her head above water, I let the tub drain, watching the water slowly reveal her slender form. My **** was still standing at attention and I needed a release, so I took it in hand and started to rub one out. Toward the end Allison woke and watched me ************. Thankfully she contributed to the end by leaning over the side of the tub with her tongue out of her mouth just asking for my cream. I had a hard time with my aim and sprayed across her left breast. She laughed, drunkenly saying that I had a big load for her and what should she do with it.

That was a crazy night and I was late for work the next day. Well, I say work, but Heather wasn't paying me in cash anymore, so is that really work? She was made. The horses had gotten through the fence, that I had been neglecting and she had spent the morning wrangling them up wearing nothing but a long bath robe. "Where the hell were you!" Was her first response, before proceeding into a rant about she's not paying me to be late and why haven't I've been looking after the fence and what does she look like? "I pay you to work!"

I fought back a laugh, but couldn't hide the smile. In that moment I could see it in Heather's eyes. She knew she wasn't paying me in cash and I wasn't coming to work everyday for the cash. Then she said it and I still laugh about it today. "You're just my *****." Sounds harsh, right? Well, in a lot of ways it was true. Don't you think? I laughed and I'm still laughing. Hell, Heather and I laughed about this not more than a year ago, and it's been like 12 years since she told me this.

As I fixed her fence we talked about why I was late and all the sorted details. Heather just ate it up, asking what Allison looked like, what she felt like. In detail I told about ******* her over the side of the bed, never having turned on the lights of the room. She was thrilled that I had washed her after holding her hair back. "Not even my husband wants to be near me after I puke," she had admonished. She playfully toyed with the bottom of her robe so that occasionally I would catch glimpses of her vagina. She even helped pull the fence taught at one point, letting her breast pop free.

As we walked back to the barn, I told her how Allison helped my rub one out and that was it. Heather was down on her knees pulling my **** from my pants and sucking the stiffness into it. Man could that girl suck **** when she really wanted to. I picked her up and propped her over the water trough. Her robe was easy enough to bypass and I was back inside Heather's tight little *****.

Both Heather and Allison were tight, but in very different ways. Heather had long ***** lips, that would swallow the sides of my **** and I loved watching how they moved as I banged her. Allison had a slim lipless ***** with a large ****. Well, larger than I had seen at the time. Come to think of it, her **** looked large because of the lack of ***** lips. But she was tight and almost shallow type of vagina. She told me on a number of occasions that I was being too rough and was hitting her cervix. I don't really understand how, but she was tight like that.

Anyway, at some point I told Heather who she felt and said Allison was somewhat different. That was that. Heather stood up, asking if I was done yet. Still hard, there was no way. She told me to ********** like I did in front of Allison. I did, while Heather was watching. It was very different as Heather seemed and was indifferent. I felt like a stallion being watched to see my reaction around mares. Well, I didn't really care, because Heather was there leaning on the water trough with her robe open, just watching me. So I rubbed one out. Holly crap, did I shot a ribbon of *** right over Heather's face. I wasn't aiming for her, heck I was a good two feet from her and her face was well above my ****. But I shot it like I had intended to shoot right in her face. It was like a stun gun had shocked her into cardiac arrest as she just sat there with a dumbfounded look across her face, along with my dripping ***.

And she was livid again. She fired me on the spot. The up side to it all, she didn't say a thing about never seeing me again. She actually called me that afternoon, saying that she needed some help getting hay later that week. We talked and played around, but it was a long while until we actually had sex again. However, see the look of shock and astonishment etched across her face as my *** slowly dripped from her chin was priceless and I wouldn't have given that up for anything.
jbeer944 jbeer944
36-40, M
1 Response May 22, 2012