Bent Over By The Boss: The Collection

By Erika Masten

From Bestselling Erotica Author Erika Masten

Bent Over By The Boss: The Collection
Four Erotic Short Stories

Four hot young men discover the thrill of submitting to the skill and authority of their gorgeous male bosses. Bent over the conference table, forced to the ground, double-teamed, bare-assed and belted, they experience a very different version of the 9-to-5 grind in these four explicit erotic short stories.

Included:
Making Partner: Bent Over By The Boss #1
Down & Dirty: Bent Over By The Boss #2
Riding First Class: Bent Over By The Boss #3
Whipping Boy: Bent Over By The Boss #4

All stories also available separately.

Warning: Explicit sexual content. Intended for mature readers only. All characters depicted in these stories are 18 years or older, and all sexual activities are of a consensual nature.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erika Masten
• Release date: May 28, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476493114

Erika Masten

I'm the girl next door with an unexpected wicked streak (and an addiction to sexy high heels). I love turning forbidden desires and secret fantasies into erotic tales with literary flare and a dirty mouth. Let me tell you a naughty story...

Book preview

BENT OVER BY THE BOSS: THE COLLECTION

by

Erika Masten

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Copyright © 2012 Erika Masten.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Erika Masten

[e-mail]

http://erikamasten.com

Published by Sticky Sweet Books. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored on, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons or events are purely coincidental.

Warning: Explicit content. Intended for mature readers only. All characters depicted herein are 18 years or older, and all sexual activities are of a consensual nature.

This is a work of erotic fantasy. In real life, please protect yourself and your lover by always practicing safe sex.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Making Partner: Bent Over By The Boss #1

Down & Dirty: Bent Over By The Boss #2

Riding First Class: Bent Over By The Boss #3

Whipping Boy: Bent Over By The Boss #4

MAKING PARTNER: BENT OVER BY THE BOSS #1

There’s something about being called into Mr. Easton’s office that makes my stomach knot up and my face get hot. Out of the blue on Friday afternoon, O’Connell—he’s the firm associate I’m clerking for in the few waking hours not consumed by law school—tells me we’re expected in the partner’s office a.s.a.p., and my gut churns. Tightening my tie and smoothing the wrinkles out of my plain jacket and shirt, I hurry down the corridor of polished wood a half-step behind the pudgy associate. I run my hands through my brown hair before I remember I just got it cut and it’s too short to be messy. Thank god for small favors. We’re at Easton’s door before I have time to wonder if I have food stains from lunch on my tie or printer ink on my fingers and slacks, as though I could do anything about it now.

It’s a long office made narrow by the bookcases lining the walls floor to ceiling on both sides of the room. We have to walk past a long mahogany conference table to get to Easton’s massive wooden desk, both of which are probably three or four times my age. The firm takes pride in its storied past, hence the restored turn of the century offices, the hardwood, the antique furniture and fixtures, though mostly just for the partners.

A large part of what makes me nervous in here is the smell—polished wood, leather-bound books, leather chairs. It makes me feel like a junior high school kid in the principal’s office. Which would make Reid Easton the principal.

Reid stands staring out the massive windows behind his desk, his back to O’Connell and me, but there’s no mistaking him. He’s only been a partner for three or four years, though his family has been on the partnership roster for decades, from his father to his uncle, two of his three brothers and a sister. In his mid-thirties, he carries himself like legal royalty, broad shoulders pulled back, jaw squared, in tailored suits that cost more than my rent for a year. In this light, his black hair has a bluish highlight to it that makes me wish I could run my fingers through the thick waves. A bad idea all around. I don’t know that it would make a difference to the firm that I’m gay, but I can’t help thinking they’d frown on me making a pass at a partner as my way of coming out at work.

When Reid turns around, my heart beats double-time for a few seconds, and I lower my gaze. The problem isn’t that Easton is drop-dead gorgeous, though he is, with a close-cropped mustache and beard shadowing his sculpted face, ringing sensuous, expressive lips I’ve thought about kissing, feeling on my skin. His eyes, however… Those could melt the secretarial staff with a glance, soften the hardest-hearted judge, seduce the most hostile jury. Black hair and gray eyes. The combination is one of my weaknesses.

Gentlemen, he says in greeting, his voice smooth and deep, as we draw near to his desk. Damn if I can’t feel that sexy rumble all the way to my balls. I won’t keep you long. O’Connell, I understand you’ve just learned your son has gone to the hospital with a burst appendix. I’m sure your family needs you with them right now.

The associate looks relieved at Easton’s reaction to the news.

My only concern about your work schedule is the Dempsey case, Reid continues. It’s slated to start on Monday, isn’t it? I’m going to take it for you. The partners are anxious about maintaining our ties with the Dempsey family. I’m anxious about how ready we are to start without you.

Before O’Connell can respond, I pipe up, though lord knows why. I handled all the research on that case, sir. It should be simple enough to bring you up to speed.

Easton actually smiles at me, a crooked smirk of a grin that looks rakish and wicked, or maybe that’s just my overactive imagination. But if I was out at a club and saw that expression, I’d lay down money I’d be seeing action before the end of the night. The thought of meeting Reid out at a club somewhere and ending up back at my place with his thick cock pumping my mouth puts a bulge in my pants that I hide behind my folded hands.

I was hoping you could do just that, Mr. Marshall. Aaron, isn’t it?

Yes, sir, I cough out, stunned he remembered my last name, let alone my first. I am, after all, just a law clerk. A law clerk standing in front of a partner while fantasizing about being mouth-fucked by him.

I know it’s Friday afternoon, and you’re probably eager to get out of the office to enjoy your weekend, but if you can write up a briefing for me and attach all the related documents, I’d certainly remember the extra effort.

I nod vigorously, way too anxious for the chance to impress him. Absolutely, sir. Then, I don’t know why, I add, No plans for the weekend, sir. I can help out on this as much as you need.

It’s a total lie. I’m supposed to go clubbing with friends tonight and rock-climbing Sunday morning. I reason with myself that I can get this briefing done for Reid and still hit the club, though without the convenience of a shower and a change of clothes. And I’m sure Easton won’t need me after that. He has a reputation of being a brilliant lawyer all on his own, without having to fall back on the family name.

Very good, gentlemen. I’ll leave you to it.

Instead of heading straight back to my desk, I hurry to the men’s room, shirking off my jacket as I stride through to the last stall and slam the door behind me. Good thing I’m alone. I hang my jacket on