The Boss’s Wife

From the Erotic Novel Deadly Adultery


1894.

“You’re a good, strong worker, aren’t you, Piotr?”

Piotr looked up, wiping his hair from his sweaty brow, to see Mrs Harmann standing framed in the workshop doorway.

“Need the money,” he nodded, returning to measuring out the timber.

“Of course you do. Now you’re getting married.” She watched him working. His strong hands, his thick limbs. “You will soon have a wife to support. Don’t you need to get to the wedding?”

“This afternoon. This morning, work.”

“How very diligent of you. My husband does like a dedicated hard worker.” She stepped in, her long skirt brushing against the door frame, and she pulled the door shut behind her. “We’re building this town, Piotr. Soon, this old estate will just be part of a city. And we need strong workers to do that.”

“Mrs Harmann?” He stopped work and looked up at her, trying to work out what she wanted with him.

“It is true. The town grows. Every day, boat loads from the old countries – Germans, Irish, Italians… Poles. But of course that also means that there are lots of workers. Every day, men come to the door, looking for work. Your Maja is very lucky, that she has a man with a job.”

“Yes.”

“What would you do if you lost your job, Piotr?”

He gave no answer.

“I suppose, you could go west. Lots of people do. To start a new life, on the plains or in California. Farming, fruit picking.”

“I am not a farmer.”

“Oh dear. Well, then I suppose you really need to make sure that you keep this job.”

“Why would I not have this job?”

“I can think of no reason.” She stepped a little closer. “My husband is happy that you are such a hard worker. And I have no reason to tell him to fire you, do I?”

“No, Mrs Harmann.”

She gave him a cruel smile. “And you aren’t going to give me any reason, are you?”

“No, Mrs Harmann,” he frowned, nervously.

Her smile broadened. She pulled the two hair pins from her hair, threw them onto a shelf, and shook out her long brown hair.

“Mrs Harmann, I….”

“No, Piotr. Shut up.” She unbuttoned her dress at the neck, and then moved down, unfastening each button in turn, her dressing falling open as she did, showing off her pale neck, then the mounds of her breasts as her corset pressed them together.

“Mrs Harmann, I…”

“No, Piotr. Shut up.” She continued to unbutton her dress. “For Maja’s sake, you would not want to lose your job. So you would not want to upset me.”

He watched as her dress fell away, leaving her, his boss’s wife, standing before him in white corset and cotton bloomers, black stockings and shoes.

And then she started to unclasp her corset.

“Mrs Harmann, I…”

“Piotr! I have a wedding present for you. Perhaps you think that you do not want it. But I know you want your job. So, Piotr, shut up.” She cast her corset aside, and stood before him, swivelling her hips, letting him admire her large breasts from the front and sides. She saw him staring, and she laughed. “Your turn. Get undressed.”

“But. Mrs Harmann….”

“Shut up. And undress.”

“But I….”

“Your job, Piotr. Keep your job and lose your clothes. Or keep your virtue, and tell Marja you have no job. Is that what she wants to hear? Or your wedding day?”

He gritted his teeth, and started to unbutton his shirt.

She grinned smugly, and reached behind her to jam the latch of the door shut.

He stripped off his shirt, and began to unbutton his pants.

She watched him, and ran her hands up to her chest, letting her fingers circle her nipples. “Everything, Piotr. Take it all off.”

He stood naked before her in the shadowy workshop, while she smiled. He looked at her round breasts, her hard buds.

“You like these, Piotr? Then come here, and lick them.”

He hesitated.

“Now, Piotr. They are hard and sensitive, and want to feel a man’s tongue. And you want to keep your job. So, lick me.”

He stepped forward, and reached down to put his hands on her hips, and leaned down.

She cupped her breasts in her hands and held them for him, and felt his warm tongue press against her. “That’s right, just there.”

She looked down at him while he licked, offering him first one, and then the other, then back again, feeling his tongue on her. Seeing him there amused her, but he lacked conviction.

“You can do better than that, Piotr.” She pushed him back, and looked at him. His muscular torso glistened with a light sweat in the warm workshop. His half-erect cock showed promise, but needed encouragement. She pushed down her bloomers, and sat back on the workbench, leaning back against the wall and spreading her thighs. “Maybe you need something better to lick at.”

“Mrs Harmann, I…”

“No, Poitr. Shut up. Just luck.”

With a grimace, he leaned down, and taking her hips in his hands he licked at her mound.

“Lower… lower. Hmm – there!” She watched him, glaring up at her, as his tongue flicked at her. She grinned, knowing that he would have to do whatever she told him. And for several minutes she enjoyed him licking at her. “You can still do better! Stick out your tongue.”

He paused and stuck his tongue out.

“Now…” She reached forward and grabbed his hair, and pulled him in to her. “There!”

His tongue pushed deep into her slit, and his cheeks pushed up to her pussy lips.

She held fast to his hair and pulling him in, again, and again, making him fuck her with his mouth, and she laughed.

Still he glared up at her, making him tongue her, and when she let go he stood up angrily, gasping for breath. He wiped her juices from his mouth with the back of his hand, and glared down at her.

She looked him up and down. His muscles glistened. And his cock was now fully hard, standing straight up before him.

“Well, it looks like you do want your wedding present!” she smiled. “And it’s right here, wet and tight, waiting for you. So, take it, for Marja’s sake….”

“No!” he snarled, and clamped his hand over her mouth, pushing her head back up against the wall. “Shut up!” And he rammed his cock into her, hard, until his balls slapped against her.

“Mmrrmm!” she struggled against him as he pounded into her. She flailed with her arms, she tried to push his hand away, while he fucked her. Then she slapped him, hard, across the face.

He let go of her mouth, and slapped her face in retaliation.

She slapped him back, and he grabbed her wrist.

“How dare you!”

“You want it!” he growled, slamming into her.

She looked down at his cock, pounding her pussy. She looked up at his muscles, taught as he flexed his body. She saw his snarl. “Yes! Oh, yes… Harder… I want…”

“No!” He slapped her face again and clamped his hand over her mouth. “Shut up!” Again he hammered in, and again. “Shut up!” And again, and again. “Shut up!” He took his hand away, and wrapped it around her throat, still slamming his cock deep into her wet pussy. “I will do this. You want it. I want it. You will shut up!”

She looked up at him, and grinned as she gasped for breath, as he snarled down at her.

Then he stepped back, grabbed her hair and dragged her across the workshop, pushing her face down over another workbench.

She spread her legs, and immediately he was in her, hard.

He grabbed a handful of her hair, and pulled her head back, pounding into her, taking her roughly, bracing against her hair.

Her eyes watered with the pain as he pulled her hair, and she laughed, loving his pounding cock.

Then, suddenly, he jerked, and shuddered, and stopped.

He released her hair, and she slumped forward as he staggered back.

She lay on her front on the workbench for a moment, as dampness seeped from her pussy and began to trickle down her thighs.

Then she stood, turned to him, and grinned. “A good, hard worker! But you lack stamina!” Smirking at him, she collected her clothes, and began to dress. “Well, I am glad you liked your wedding present. I certainly enjoyed you taking it. A good hard worker!”

He stood silently, getting his breath back, and then he, slowly, began to pull his clothes back on.

“Well, Piotr. I am certainly impressed,” she mused, as buttoned up her dress. “And I would hate my husband to fire you. I will do all I can to make sure you keep this job. And I will be back, whenever the mood takes me, so that you can remind me just what a hard worker you are, and why I want you here.”

And she turned to go.

“Mrs Harmann?”

At the door, she turned. “Yes?”

“I hate you.”

“Piotr? Shut up.” And she swung the door open and headed out into the yard.

Inside, he held his head in his hands, angry and confused.

At the back of the workshop, around the store cupboard, he heard movement.

“Who is there?”

And then there was steel.


Piotr’s imminent murder is not the only death in the centuries-spanning erotic mystery Deadly Adultery. But to learn who is killing and why…

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