How I Gave My Boss a Blowjob

Linda is in a loving relationship, but her wife is a lesbian. As a bisexual, she still craves men sometimes. Even worse, she loves giving blowjobs, and she knows that is something her wife will never understand. After all, lesbians do to have real, functioning penises. They have strap-on dildos, and that doesn't suffice when you want something more real.
WARNING:

This is a sexually explicit short story of 3000+ words about consenting adults. It is intended only for mature readers.

Excerpt:

"Sorry," I said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you and Wendy having a fight again? You know you can talk to me about that."

I took a sip of my martini. "Yes, I know. And thanks for all the times you've given me advice in the past." I took another sip of my cosmopolitan. "But, sorry. I don't think this is a problem you can help me with." That was a lie, but given sexual harassment laws, it was the right one to give. Cal is a highly successful and expensive divorce attorney, after all.

"Try me."

I shook my head. "No."

"Please?" I started to realize he was a bit drunk.

A bit drunk myself, I started to wonder about what his penis looked like. "I am afraid you really wouldn't understand."

"Like the way I couldn't understand when you and Wendy were fighting over..."
I imagined undoing his zipper. I squeezed my eyes shut to make the image go away. "No,

That's different than this."

"How?"

I pictured pulling his manhood out and stroking it gently with my soft hands. I squeezed my eyes shut again, but I realized this tactic wasn't working. "It's very personal."

"You know I'm not going to give up until you talk to me."

Now, I daydreamed about getting him hard and sliding the tip of his dick between my lips. Dear god, I could start to feel myself getting wet. I clamped my thighs together. "What you are asking to do is just making it worse, Cal. Please stop."

"Come on. It can't be that bad."

I imagined the light gag I would make once his cock hit the back of my throat. I grew wetter. "It is that bad."

"Now, you really have to tell me."

I chugged my martini. I waved the bartender over for another. "If I tell you, you can't fire me."

His face grew grave. "Ok. Agreed. It must be really serious."

"It is. Trust me." I told him everything ...