I Gave My Boss a Big Load

The school was alive with the energy of students rushing to their classes and teachers chatting in the hallways. In the main office, Principal Ellen stood confidently at her desk, a striking figure with long, sleek black hair and sharp, professional attire. Her toned physique spoke of her dedication to healthy living and frequent jogs. At 43 years old, she had spent two decades working her way up in the education system before finally achieving her dream of becoming a principal.

As she reviewed paperwork on her desk, Ellen couldn’t help but notice a new employee lingering nervously by the doorway. Jake, a fresh-faced 23-year-old graduate, had just been hired as a teacher’s aide and was clearly unsure of himself in this new environment. Ellen watched as he fidgeted with the strap of his backpack, his eyes darting around uncertainly. Sensing his hesitation, she looked up and offered him a warm smile, beckoning him over with a welcoming gesture.

“Hello there, Jake. Welcome to our school,” she greeted him in a friendly tone, standing up to shake his hand. “I’m Principal Ellen. I’m so glad to have you on board.”

Jake’s nerves seemed to melt away as he met her warm gaze. “Thank you, Principal Ellen. I’m really excited to be here,” he replied with a grateful smile.

As they chatted, Ellen couldn’t help but be drawn in by Jake’s easy charm and enthusiasm for his new role. She found herself captivated by his youthful energy and genuine passion for making a positive impact on the students. Over the coming weeks, Ellen took Jake under her wing and guided him through the ins and outs of his job. They quickly developed a strong rapport, with Jake seeking out Ellen’s advice and feedback on a regular basis.

Despite their age difference, Ellen and Jake shared a deep love for teaching and a mutual desire to make a difference in the lives of their students. Their conversations were filled with laughter and mutual respect, and Ellen couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in watching Jake grow and flourish under her mentorship.

However, as time went on, Ellen couldn’t deny the growing attraction she felt towards Jake. She was a married woman, devoted to her husband and family, but she couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in her stomach whenever she was around Jake. The more they worked together, the harder it became to ignore their undeniable chemistry and connection. Though she tried to push these feelings aside, Ellen found herself drawn to Jake’s youthful energy and optimistic outlook on life. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to give into this forbidden desire for him.

From the moment they met, there was an undeniable chemistry between Ellen and Fred. They worked closely together on various school projects and committees, and it wasn’t long before their professional relationship turned into something more.

It started innocently enough, with lingering glances and accidental brushes of the hand. But as their attraction grew stronger, they found themselves unable to resist the pull of their forbidden desires.

As the days turned into weeks, their interactions became bolder and more heated. The lingering glances turned into intense stares filled with longing and desire. Both knew what they were doing, yet couldn’t stop.

The accidental brushes of the hand turned into deliberate touches, sending sparks of electricity through their bodies.

Despite knowing that their desires were forbidden, they found themselves unable to resist the intense chemistry between them. It was as if the universe was conspiring to bring them together, igniting a passion that burned brighter with each passing day.

They tried to ignore their growing feelings, telling themselves that it was wrong and that they should stay away from each other. But the pull of their desires was too strong, overpowering any rational thoughts or reasoning.

They became moments charged with an electric undercurrent. Ellen’s fingers would graze Fred’s when she reached for a shared document, her fingers would tap on his knee under the table during meetings, and the brief contact would send a shiver up her spine. Fred, in turn, found himself deliberately placing his hand on Ellen’s back when guiding her through a doorway or lightly touching her arm when making a point. Each touch, whether intended or not, seemed to amplify the growing tension between them, leaving both of them on edge, craving more.

Their conversations, once limited to school matters, began to explore more personal territories. Ellen, usually reserved and focused on her role as principal, found herself sharing more about her past, her fears, and her dreams with Fred. She spoke about her aspirations outside of the school, the dreams she had set aside, and the personal struggles she had faced. Fred, moved by her openness, reciprocated by sharing his own stories, his passions, and the reasons behind his choice to become a teacher. Their dialogues became increasingly intimate, each word weaving a deeper connection between them.

One evening, after a particularly challenging day filled with parent-teacher meetings and administrative tasks, Ellen and Fred found themselves alone in the school’s library. The library, usually a place of quiet study, now felt like a sanctuary, cocooning them in a world separate from their professional roles. They had gathered to review some student records, but the atmosphere was palpably different. The soft hum of the air conditioning and the dim light filtering through the windows created a private, almost romantic setting. To tease him, her hand reached under the table, her fingers tickling his kneecap.

Maybe it was the pent-up lust from her previous teasing, yet Fred then and there decided to finally return the favor by putting his palm on her knee.

The unexpected warmth of his touch sent a shockwave of thrill through Ellen’s body, causing her to catch her breath. Her heart raced as Fred’s hand remained steady on her knee, the weight of his palm both reassuring and daring. In that clandestine corner of the library, surrounded by towering bookshelves that whispered secrets of their own, something irrevocable shifted between them. His gaze met hers, heavy with unspoken promises and smoldering intensity.

Ellen knew they were crossing a line from which there could be no retreat. The professional boundaries that had once seemed so clear were now blurred by the haze of their mutual attraction. The air between them was charged with anticipation, each silent heartbeat echoing louder than the last.

“Fred,” she started, her voice a mixture of warning and invitation. “We should stop this.” But her words lacked conviction, betraying her true desires.

Fred leaned closer, his voice low and husky. “Ellen, I know we should… but I don’t want to.” His words hung between them, raw and honest. He reached out to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers gently brushing against her skin, setting it aflame.

Ellen’s resolve crumbled like ancient ruins beneath the weight of her longing. She tilted her head back as he kissed the nape of her neck, his hand sliding up her skirt, discovering her skimpy panties. Both knew she was married, just like they knew she had been forsaken for far too long. The touch of his lips was electric, sending shivers down her spine that mingled with a sense of forbidden delight. In the quiet of the library, every small sound seemed amplified — the soft rustle of fabric, their shallow, hurried breaths, the faintest whisper of pages being turned somewhere in the distance.

Ellen found herself sinking deeper into the sensation, into the allure of the moment. The rational part of her screamed that they were on a dangerous precipice, but it was drowned out by the loud beating of her heart and the heat of Fred’s body so close to hers.

His hands were now exploring with more certainty, as if each touch confirmed his intent and deepened their connection. Ellen responded in kind, her own hands untucking his dress shirt, feeling the solidity of his abs. The professional decorum they upheld so rigorously during daylight hours was peeling away, layer by layer, revealing their raw, unguarded selves.

The world outside all faded into obscurity. Here in this secluded corner, there was only Fred and Ellen and a burgeoning desire that refused to be ignored any longer. Fred released a deep moan when her fingers unzipped his pants, his erection springing forth through the slit. Her hand grabbed his shaft and she stroked, their tongues dancing while he slid a finger inside her warm wetness.

Suddenly, they froze as the library door opened and closed, footsteps approaching. They quickly composed themselves just as a colleague rounded into their aisle with a stack of books.

“Ellen, Fred, are you here for the late shift as well?” the colleague asked, his eyes scanning the rows of books rather than their hastily-composed appearances.

“Yes,” Ellen managed to say, smoothing her hair back into place and adjusting her blouse. “Just sorting out some references for tomorrow’s meeting,” she added, hoping her voice sounded more steady than she felt.

Fred nodded in agreement, stepping slightly behind Ellen to adjust himself and regain his composure. “Exactly, just trying to stay on top of everything.”

Their colleague nodded absentmindedly, clearly more focused on his own task than their explanations. “I see. Well, don’t stay too late. The weather is turning worse outside.” With a casual wave, he continued down the aisle, leaving them once again in their secluded corner.

Fred and Ellen exchanged a look of relief mixed with frustration as they heard the footsteps fading away. The moment had been broken, the spell of their intimacy momentarily lifted by the intrusion. They knew they were playing with fire, every stolen touch a spark that could ignite into something uncontrollable.

Ellen sighed deeply and stepped back from Fred, her eyes conflicted. “We should stop,” she murmured, though every fiber in her being protested against the words.

“I know,” Fred replied quietly. “But it feels so good to be doing this.”

She nodded, her eyes bugging when she witnessed Fred shedding his shirt. His toned upper body was on display for her, Ellen’s lust rising exponentially.

Ellen’s heart raced at the suggestion, her mind torn between reason and the wild drumming of her pulse. The library, with its looming shelves and the scent of old books, had always been a sanctuary, not a place of reckless encounters. Yet here she was, standing on the edge of something thrilling and utterly irresponsible.

“Let’s go somewhere private,” she suggested, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Somewhere where we don’t have to worry about being interrupted.”

Fred nodded, his eyes dark with anticipation. He quickly buttoned up his shirt, grabbed Ellen’s hand, and led her towards the back of the library where the seldom-used archival rooms offered more discretion. They moved silently through the dimly lit corridors, their steps quickening as they put distance between themselves and their regular workspace.

Finally reaching one of the older rooms at the end of a long hallway, she pulled out an old key and unlocked the door, ushering them inside before closing it firmly behind them. They looked at each other with excitement and apprehension, before finally giving in to their devilish desires. Ellen’s long, soft fingers found the musculature of his chest, rubbing it while his hands cupped her buttocks.

Fred leaned in to kiss her, softly at first, then with increasing urgency as their suppressed desire found an outlet. Ellen responded fervently, her hands traveling up to tangle in his hair as she pressed closer to him. The room around them seemed to vanish, leaving nothing but the echo of their quickened breaths and the faint rustle of pages from books long forgotten.

As they kissed, Fred’s hands explored the small of Ellen’s back, drawing her even closer if possible. The intensity of their connection seemed to set the very air on fire around them, and all thoughts of caution were swept away by the tide of their emotions. The only reality that mattered was the feel of each other’s touch, the taste of each other’s lips.

Slowly, Fred broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers as they both caught their breath. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted in a whisper, his voice thick with emotion.

Ellen smiled softly, her eyes shining with a mix of desire and something deeper. “Me too,” she confessed, her voice equally low. “But we need to be careful. We can’t let this… whatever this is… affect our work.”

Fred nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of her words but also unwilling to let go of what was happening between them.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers, and whispered, “I promise, we’ll handle it. But for now…” His words trailed off as he leaned in for another kiss, this time more deliberate, as if sealing their pact with every press of their lips.

The room around them was steeped in history, the walls lined with ancient manuscripts and maps that had charted unknown worlds. The irony wasn’t lost on them; here they were, exploring uncharted territories of their own. As Fred’s hands gently roamed over Ellen’s back, finding the zipper of her dress, there was a tangible sense of stepping into a narrative that was entirely theirs.

With a quiet zip, her dress fell softly to the floor, pooling around her feet like a discarded script. The moonlight sneaked through the small window, casting silvery patterns over her skin. For a moment, Fred just watched her, marveling at the sight before him — so vulnerable yet so intensely powerful.

Ellen, emboldened by his gaze, reached for him again. Her hands worked deftly to rid him of his remaining clothes, each movement filled with an urgency that mirrored the pounding of their hearts. Soon enough, they stood there in the dim light of the archival room, their bare skin feasted on by the eyes of the other. Soon thereafter, he guided her to a large and sturdy table, and was the first to climb on. His bare body touched the table, his erection pointing vertically. He watched with appreciation as she followed in his wake, turning herself so that her head was near his erection, while her backside was near his head.

Ellen’s breath was warm against his skin, her hands steadying herself as she positioned her body over his. The ancient wood of the table creaked slightly under their combined weight, adding a thrill of urgency to their forbidden encounter. The moonlight created a halo around them, illuminating their bodies in the semi-darkness of the room full of whispering shadows and secrets.

Fred reached up, his fingers tracing the curve of her spine, sending shivers that echoed through her body. Her hands were not idle either, exploring with an artist’s touch, drawing lines of fire across his skin. Every movement was a word in their silent dialogue, every touch a sentence in a chapter that they wrote together in hushed tones and breathless whispers.

As Fred’s lips found the softness of her skin, he tasted the salt of her desire there. Ellen arched back slightly, offering herself more fully to the exploration of his mouth. Her own lips closed around his tip, tongue swirling as his body jerked with pleasure. She took more of him into her mouth, his tongue stuffed into her folds, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks.

Her movements became more insistent, drawing a groan from deep within him that echoed off the ancient walls. Fred, gripped by a surge of passion, shifted his position slightly, his hands guiding her hips as they found a new rhythm together. The air around them thickened with the heat of their breaths, mingling with the dusty scent of old paper and ink that filled the room.

Ellen’s moans grew louder, resonating in the space that housed echoes of many untold stories. With every thrust and retreat, she wrote her own story upon his body, an intimate script filled with unspoken promises and suppressed longings. Her fingers clutched at the edge of the table, her nails slightly scraping the wood as she lost herself in the intensity of the moment.

Fred felt the mounting pressure, a delicious tension that promised an explosive release. His hands roamed over her body, memorizing every curve as if trying to imprint her onto his very soul. He felt her body tightening around him, her movements more frantic as she neared the edge.

Together, they climbed toward their climax, their bodies speaking in a language older than the manuscripts surrounding them. The table beneath them seemed to pulse with their energy, its ancient grains vibrating with life once more.

Finally, Ellen shuddered above him, a cry escaping her lips as she collapsed onto his chest, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Fred followed soon after, his own release overtaking him with a force that left him trembling. They remained entwined, a tangle of limbs and satisfaction, their breaths slowly synchronizing as they descended from the peak of their passion.

As the immediate intensity of their encounter began to fade, the quietness of the library enveloped them again. The musty smell of books, normally so comforting and familiar to both, now seemed to bear witness to their intimacy. Ellen lifted her head, her eyes meeting Fred’s in a silent acknowledgment of the profundity of what had just transpired between them.

Fred brushed a lock of hair from Ellen’s face, tracing the line of her jaw tenderly with his fingertips. “I never knew silence could be so eloquently loud,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with spent desire.

Ellen smiled, a gentle curling of her lips that spoke volumes.

Slowly, they began to disentangle themselves, adjusting their clothing and trying to erase the evidence of what had taken place…