I showed up to the office late that Friday, thinking everyone had cleared out. My black boss Marcus was still at his desk, tie loose, shirt sleeves rolled up over thick forearms. He looked up from his laptop and locked eyes with me. "Close the door and lock it, Ryan."
I did it without thinking. Marcus stood up slow, all six-foot-three of him, broad chest stretching his shirt. He walked around the desk and grabbed my belt. "You've been staring at my dick for months. Time to do something about it."
He yanked my pants down and shoved me to my knees. His cock was already hard when he pulled it outthick, veiny, dark brown, nine inches easy and leaking at the tip. "Open your fucking mouth."
I opened. Marcus pushed in deep, no warm-up, just straight to the back of my throat. I gagged but he held my head and fucked my face anyway. Spit ran down my chin onto the carpet. "That's it, take that black cock. Suck it like you mean it."
He tasted salty and strong. I worked my tongue along the shaft while he pumped my mouth. His balls slapped my chin every time he bottomed out. After a few minutes he pulled out, strings of spit connecting my lips to his dick. "Stand up. Bend over the desk."
I kicked my pants the rest of the way off and leaned forward. Marcus kicked my legs apart and spat on my hole. One thick finger pushed inside, then two, stretching me open rough and fast. "Tight little white ass. Gonna wreck this."
He lined up and drove in. The burn hit hard but I pushed back anyway. Marcus grabbed my hips and started pounding, long deep strokes that made the desk shake. Every thrust forced a grunt out of me. His heavy balls swung against mine. He reached around and jerked my cock in time with his thrusts.
"Fuck, your ass is gripping me," he growled. "You been wanting this black dick, haven't you?"
"Yes, sir," I managed.
Marcus pulled out, flipped me onto my back on the desk, and shoved back in. Now I could watch his abs flex while he fucked me. Sweat dripped off his chest onto my stomach. He hooked my legs over his shoulders and went harder, the slap of skin loud in the empty office.
My cock bounced against my belly with every slam.
He leaned down and kissed me rough, tongue pushing in while his dick stayed buried. Then he straightened up and hammered faster. "Gonna fill this ass up."
I felt him swell and then the first hot pulse hit deep inside. Marcus kept thrusting through it, pumping load after load into me until it leaked out around his shaft. He didn't pull out right away. Instead he stroked my cock until I shot all over my own chest, thick ropes hitting my chin.
We stayed like that a minute, breathing hard. Marcus finally eased out and watched his cum drip from my hole. "Clean me off."
I got back on my knees and licked his cock clean, tasting both of us. He tucked himself away and told me to get dressed. Before I left he said, "Same time next week. Don't be late."
The next Monday the tension was thick every time he walked past my desk. By Wednesday I was hard just hearing his voice on the phone. Friday came around again and the office emptied early. Marcus texted me one word: "Office."
I locked the door behind me. This time he had me strip completely. He sat in his chair and had me ride him. I lowered myself onto that thick black cock, feeling it stretch me open again. Marcus held my hips and made me bounce, controlling the pace. Every time I dropped down he thrust up to meet me. The chair creaked under us.
"Look at you, taking every inch like a slut," he said, voice low and rough. He reached up and pinched my nipples hard. I moaned and rode faster. He spat in his hand and started jerking me again while I fucked myself on his dick.
When he got close he stood up, still inside me, and bent me over the chair. He fucked me standing, one hand on my shoulder, the other pulling my hair. The angle let him go deeper than before. I could feel every vein dragging along my walls. He came again, flooding me while I shot onto the leather seat.
After that it became regular. Sometimes he'd have me suck him under the desk during lunch. Other times he'd fuck me against the window with the blinds half open, city lights below us. He liked to talk dirty the whole timecalling me his office bitch, telling me how my ass was made for black cock. I took it every time, raw and deep, and always left with his load inside me.
One night he kept me late after everyone else left. He had me naked on all fours on the conference table. Marcus walked around me, running his hands over my back and ass, then slid back inside. This time he went slow at first, long strokes that made me push back for more. Then he picked up speed until the table rocked. He reached under and twisted my balls just enough to hurt good while he pounded me.
"Whose ass is this?" he demanded.
"Yours, sir."
He came harder than usual, grinding deep and holding there until every drop was pumped out. When he pulled free he made me stay on the table while he watched his cum run down my thighs. Then he had me lick the table clean.
We never talked about it outside those nights, but the arrangement held. Every Friday the door locked, clothes came off, and Marcus used me however he wanted. I stopped pretending I didn't need it. His cock owned me and we both knew it.
