The car ride is tense, he's yapping about how I did great but I shouldn't feel like I have to prove myself to anyone next time or some such thing and I'm sitting there trying to remind myself that this is my boss and I can't tell him to bugger off. He started off by pointing out which parts of the presentation had blown him away and then moved on to chastising me for all the ways I was constantly trying to one-up him or prove myself to someone. It was wholly unnecessary and now here I was, giving him air. I'm kind of past tipsy but not like properly sloshed, I think, but I've figured out that if I just ignore him he won't realize how tipsy I am.

I really wanted to point out that I wasn't drunk and he couldn't prove that I was and he should mind his own business, so I mumble this to myself all the while relieved as the office comes into sight finally. I open the car door before he's fully parked, thanking him for the ride and then struggling to walk as straight as possible into the office in my heels, which felt as if I were walking a very wobbly tight rope. I'd had just about enough of him and was willing to do anything to avoid him, including pretending to be sober.

The office was empty save for him and I, and I had wobbled my way to my work space, leaving him with his boring lectures standing by the door. What had possessed him to drive me here anyway? I could've taken a cab. He heads to his office and I decide that I'll sit down for a bit, pretend to be going over some file or notes and wait for him to leave before I call a cab.

Whew, the scotch was just swirling so warm and sweet all over my body and there was a thin film of sweat on my skin from just how warm I was feeling. Sitting down was definitely a good idea. Now all I needed to do was let the delicious buzz pass. I was sitting at my desk with my eyes closed just taking in the sea of feelings my body was experiencing, a warmth,a vitality, a delicious ecstasy just roiling through me when his voice broke into my peace.

"Get your stuff, I'll drop you home." He offers decisively,

I open my eyes, my heart beating in my clit from the jump scare, I hadn't heard him walk out of his office and I didn't know how long he'd been standing there looking like the understudy for David Beckham so I quickly pretend to flip a report page open as I shake my head.

"I'm going to start the Tosh and Harrigan file." I slur softly back at him, hoping I sounded sober and focused and not butt hurt that he was vexed about me drinking with Tosh and Harrigan.

"It's late Funke. Whatever it is you can look through it tomorrow. Besides, you don't have anything to prove to me, go home and get some rest." He states, walking to me now

I'm already shaking my head at this. I wasn't trying to fight this man but I didn't want him thinking I was trying to prove myself to him. I was trying to build a working relationship with Tosh and Harrigan for my own architecture firm, maybe that included proving to Luc that I could handle such a thing on my own but more than anything I was proving it to my self. Who did he think he was always centering himself in my deeds like that? Always trying to rescue me for his ego's sake. I look the toff right in his pretty face and say

"You don't have to be swinging your John Thomas around here like that. You're my boss, for now, but you sure aren't the boss of me innit?" (John Thomas=Dick)

I hear myself say it, my voice still soft and lush, intimate even

Had I said that out loud or in my mind? I quickly look to his face, to see if I'd said it, if he'd heard me, if this was an illusion. Something dark is coming over... he gets this look on his face, and the part of me that's not plastered is telling me I just cocked up... I think I actually said that...

"I am your boss!" He reminds me, moving so close to me now I pop out of the chair

I don't even know what Whitlam is about to do, and for the second time my heart beats in my clit from the fear, my ass pressed against the edge of the desk. I could apologize, of course, but what was the fun in that? What I really wanted to tell him is to sod off!

"Yeah? Why don't you put me over your lap and spank me then if you're so intent on being my dad!" I hiss back, lifting an eyebrow in challenge

I watch his eyes spark at that, dangerously, and I steel myself to the possibility that I'd made things worse. At this point he looks absolutely nutters and I know... I know I've crossed a line. He's miffed, I should've just shut up, everything is arse over tits. He wasn't going to do it though. He wasn't going to spank me, it was too outrageous even for him, and I calculate that the best thing for me to do is grab my bag and run for the door. I'm so confident I've won the argument that I turn around to pick my bag up from the floor, and then, and you have to believe me fam, he spanks my left ass cheek.

I hear the sound of it before the sting settles up my spine.

Naturally, in shock and out of reflex, I turn around and smack him right across his lovely mug, the sting from the spank so alive on my poor ass cheek, my palm warm from when it met his face. He grabs me by my waist and the next thing I know his lips are pressed against mine, hard, determined, searching, desperate and passionate, punitive even. I try and fight against it but his hand is on my neck propping my chin in place and my heart is beating against my clit. I'm shook by just how tantalizing his kissing is and then I decide I was going to win this kiss so I kiss him back. The crown lothario of Whitlam thought he was about to spank me and then kiss me dizzy but I was about to show him who the better lothario between us is!

I slide my body close to his and run my hand up into his hair, kissing him back. The scotch was heightening the ecstasy of the kiss obviously, but I was determined to win, even when his hands grabbed my ass, pressed my body into his and secured me to his body. I one-upped him by moaning and pressing my crotch into his and crossing my legs at the back of his thighs. He pushed my back onto the wall and I gave the sultriest moan I could conjure up in response, kissing him with more abandon, my grip in his hair tightening slightly as I crushed my crotch into his again. Would you look at that, the lothario of Whitlam is hard! He was losing! Hah!

He pushes his coat off his body, I pull his shirt untucked from his trousers and then run my fingers up his back, all while moving my crotch against his almost tented crotch. Poor Luc didn't stand a chance! He's about to give up, he's about to step back and give up! I scratch down his back and to the top of his arse, trying my best to grab it in the same way he'd done mine.

He pulls his lips away from mine, his eyes burning brighter than lit amber, I stare back, a small smile on my face, waiting for him to put me down and admit defeat. The short of it is that he doesn't. He mumbles angrily to me in what I can only assume is gaelic, and then he's kissing me again, along my chin and then down my neck, and I feel the zipper of my jumpsuit sliding down and opening and then his hand on my breast in a ferociously possessive way. I'm bloody wet for whatever reason, my arse is sore and he's kissing on my breast now, just sucking the living out of my nipple and what had initially been pornstar moans meant to win the make-out/ punishment/war of who's the most desirable had been completely replaced with real moans as I pressed my tit into his mouth. I want to say the scotch seems to have increased just how sensitive my nipples were tenfold because the way they felt in his warm firm mouth had my grip on his hair tightening to white-knuckle.

My heart is now permanently situated in my clit and I completely lose the plot and moan his name when he presses his swollen crotch into mine in a rubbing motion, effectively dry humping me against the wall as he pops my breast out of his mouth. An absolutely tormenting pleasure wreaks havoc on my body as he grinds deep into me all while he looks deep into my eyes and grips each side of my jumpsuit pulling them apart, tugging the zip fully open and exposing my chest to him. He presses his lips against mine, giving me a chance to win the situation back.

I kiss him, passionately, his hand grabs my sensitive nipple, I moan into his mouth and add some maddening desire into my kissing, his hand lets go of my breast. I can tell, for a second, that he's lost in the kissing, and that I'm in charge and I'm winning the make-out again. I'm so sure of it I struggle to unbutton his shirt and he pins me against the wall by our crotches and unbuttons his own shirt, removing it completely before pressing his chest to mine. I put my hand on his neck to better control the kiss, choking him a little and making it deliberately sensual as I explore his mouth and the feel of our skin touching. His hand dips into the jumpsuit and rubs an exploratory finger on my nub, which roars awake in a throbbing excitement.

"Fuck!" I cry, pulling away from the kiss to better understand the immense pleasure rolling through me like an electric jolt as he rubs the sensitive nub again.

My eyes were closed when suddenly the wall behind me felt like it had disappeared, when I opened my eyes again it was because of a loud thud and I realize I was being lain down on my desk, my feet were in the air and my jumpsuit and panties were coming off. I can't begin to explain the savage way he ripped my clothes off and attached his face to my snatch. I was still dizzy from the transition, but the torturous wave of pleasure from his mouth on me, from the way he moaned into me actually sent my legs trembling. At this point I'm absobloodylutely moaning like a wounded horse. I sound like a proper nutter and neither of us is thinking straight, not when he spreads me out like a jam on the desk, eating me with such precise devotion to each fevered moan and pleasured quake of my thighs and tummy.

I know I've lost the make-out, but I was definitely about to win an orgasm when he pulled his mouth away from my soaking throbbing sex. My eyes open in a panic, naturally because I thought this was his way of declaring himself winner. He deserved it too the way he'd used his mouth on me!He pulls me closer to him by my thighs and then swiftly sticks a fat cock all the way in. My back arcs off the desk to accommodate and rejoice in the feel of it. He huskily hisses something, I think I hear fuck around and make a baby but it's so unlike anything I've ever heard him say I decide to grip on the desk for dear life as he pistons into me.

I'd already been so close to cumming from him eating my snatch it doesn't take much to send me moaning and writhing in ecstasy so thick and real it reverberated through all the cells in my body. It had to be the scotch amplifying every bit of fire and bad decisions, screaming his name as he pummeled rhythmically into me on my work desk, as he lifts me off it, pins me to the wall and makes me call him daddy. It was definitely the scotch that kissed him wildly while I was in tears from the pleasure of it all, and it was most definitely the scotch that cuddled him into me after we'd both stained the office with our various fluids, breathless and overrun with pleasure.

The pleasure had been so potent I had scratched and clawed and sang and kissed and bit and dug my fingers into his ass, back, neck, lips. He was breathing heavily, pressing his lips against various parts of my face and neck as we held each other in a tight embrace. We'd somehow ended up on the carpet from the wall and everything felt mercilessly pleasant, including his chest moving against mine, his kisses all over my face, his gruff words that I had no idea what they meant, his voice husky, tired and laden with the breathy activities of the hot sweaty atmosphere. I close my eyes and let the amazing intoxicating feelings wash through my body in roaring luxurious waves.