Wedding Favor for the Boss

The moment I saw her across the crowded reception hall, my cock twitched with raw want. Elena Voss, my strict-as-hell boss, looked nothing like the ice-queen who ran our office with an iron fist. Her tight red dress hugged every curve, the deep slit flashing a toned thigh, and those sharp green eyes locked on mine like she already owned me. The wedding was in full swing at the luxury vineyard estate, strings of lights twinkling over the dance floor while the bride and groom laughed nearby. My buddy's big day had turned into something far more dangerous the second Elena cornered me by the bar.

"You clean up nicely, Marcus," she said, voice low and commanding as she sipped her champagne. Her perfume—something spicy and expensive—hit me hard. "Didn't expect to see my newest employee here. Small world."

"Friend of the groom," I replied, trying to keep my tone steady even as my pulse raced. "Didn't know you knew the bride's side."

She stepped closer, her full breasts brushing my arm. The heat between us crackled instantly. "I do. And right now, I need a favor." Her fingers traced the edge of my suit jacket, bold and unapologetic. "My husband's stuck at a conference. Again. I'm not spending this wedding frustrated and alone."

My mouth went dry. Elena was married—hotwife rumors had floated around the office, but I'd dismissed them as fantasy. Now her wedding ring glinted under the lights as she leaned in, lips brushing my ear.

"Take me somewhere private, Marcus. Fuck me like you mean it. That's an order."

The explicit pull hit before we even left the bar. We slipped out a side door into the dimly lit garden path, her hand already gripping my growing bulge through my pants. "God, you're hard already," she whispered, squeezing. "Good boy."

We barely made it to the small private gazebo tucked behind flowering vines before she shoved me against the wooden post. Her mouth crashed into mine, tongue demanding entry as her fingers yanked my zipper down. My thick cock sprang free, heavy and veined, pre-cum already beading at the tip.

"Suck it," I growled, the words surprising even me. Elena dropped to her knees on the cushioned bench, red dress riding up her hips to reveal a black lace thong and garters. She looked up with those bossy eyes, then wrapped her painted lips around my dick.

The wet heat of her mouth was pure sin. She took me deep on the first try, throat relaxing as she bobbed, slurping noisily. "Mmm, bigger than my husband," she moaned around my shaft, spit dripping down to my balls. Her hand stroked what her lips couldn't reach, twisting at the head while her tongue flicked my frenulum. I tangled my fingers in her perfectly styled hair and thrust gently, fucking her face with short strokes that made her gag softly.

"Fuck... Elena... your mouth feels incredible," I panted.

She popped off with a gasp, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to my glistening cock. "You like your boss on her knees? Good. Now bend me over."

She stood, turning and bracing her hands on the rail. I hiked her dress to her waist, ripping the thong aside. Her pussy was shaved smooth, already soaked, lips puffy and shining. The scent of her arousal mixed with the night jasmine. I rubbed my cockhead along her slit, teasing her clit until she whimpered.

"Stop teasing and fuck me," she demanded, pushing back. "Fill this married pussy."

I slammed in hard, burying all eight inches in one thrust. Her walls clenched tight and hot around me, juices coating my balls as I started pounding. The gazebo creaked with every impact, her juicy ass rippling as I gripped her hips and drove deeper.

"Yes... harder, Marcus! Fuck me like you own me," she cried, voice breaking into moans. I reached around, fingers finding her swollen clit and rubbing fast circles. Her tits bounced free from the dress top as she arched, nipples hard in the cool air.

I pulled out suddenly, spinning her to face me, then lifted one of her legs high. Sliding back inside her dripping cunt, I fucked her standing, our bodies slapping wetly. "Your husband knows you do this?" I asked between thrusts, the hotwife truth making my cock throb even harder.

"He loves it," she gasped, nails digging into my shoulders. "Loves knowing I'm getting stretched by thick employee cock while he's away. Now make me cum."

I sped up, pounding her pussy with raw force, the wet squelch echoing. Her breathing turned ragged, eyes rolling back as the first orgasm hit. Her cunt spasmed wildly, squirting a hot gush down my thighs. "Oh fuck... I'm cumming so hard!"

I didn't stop. Flipping her again, I took her from behind once more, this time spanking her firm ass with sharp smacks that left red marks. She pushed back greedily, chasing another peak. My balls tightened as I felt my own climax building.

"Inside me," she begged, voice husky. "Cum in this hotwife pussy. Fill me up."

With a deep groan I buried myself to the hilt and erupted, thick ropes of cum flooding her spasming walls. She came again right after, milking every drop from my pulsing dick until it overflowed, dripping down her thighs in creamy streaks.

We stayed locked together, panting, her back against my chest as distant wedding music drifted over. Finally she turned, kissing me slow and deep, a wicked smile on her lips.

"Consider that your performance review, Marcus. Now fix my dress and buy me another drink. The night's still young... and my husband won't be home till Monday."