Three Blacked Wives, Volume 5: An Interracial Cuckold Collection by Daphne Hart

Author:Daphne Hart
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2017-03-16T04:00:00+00:00

The Boss’s Bed

Lydia spun around in her chair lazily, doing her best to avoid looking at the clock on the wall. She knew about what time it was. Each lazy rotation of her black office chair gave her a lovely view of the cityscape outside her window, where an orange sun hung low on the horizon. The tall buildings cast mile-long shadows across the streets below, bustling with activity but completely quiet for their distance. She loved Chicago. Lydia grew up in a town not far from here, just a little suburb, but her dream as a child was to work in one of those buildings she saw on the horizon. She wanted a desk next to the window, high up in those magnificent concrete buildings.

Someone should have told that idealistic little brown-haired girl that it was hell. She desperately wanted a time machine so that she might travel back and smack herself in the back of the head. She could be doing anything she wanted. Maybe a life as a musician, struggling to make ends meet; maybe a pilot; or maybe even fulfilling that crazy fantasy of joining the military. Instead, she was here. Oh, she worked in an office, that much came true, but she even if the view was nice, her job was shit. Every day she came into work, checked the boss's messages, forwarded his calls, and told people to wait until he was ready for their appointments. An exciting day was when Mr. Chandler, her boss, was running behind and she got to chat with one of his appointments to kill the time for him. A golden cage hung high in the sky with a view, she thought to herself.

She set the chair spinning in the opposite direction when she caught a glimpse of the clock accidentally. Just ten minutes left until she could leave the office without raising someone's eyebrow. Lydia decided to take the opportunity to start packing it in for the evening. She grabbed the edge of her desk as it spun past her and took a deep breath. The room insisted that she was still moving. “That was easier when I was a kid,” she muttered to herself. The second ticked away on the clock ever slower as she loaded everything back into her over-sized purse when the door to Mr. Chandler's office opened.

“Leaving so soon?” his deep voice echoed through the front office. Her eyes shot to the clock out of instinct, and she practically dumped the contents of her purse back onto her desk.

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