Boss Lady's Daughter

It was my turn to slump back from exhaustion. Margie placed her right nipple into my eager and very appreciative mouth. I started sucking.

"Rest baby. You deserve it." She stroked my cheek with her soft fingers, alternating with strokes of her fingernails. It was no problem closing my eyes.

I felt Jean Alyce wipe both of her hands clean on my softball uniform pants. She was thorough but must have glanced at her watch in the process because I heard her shriek.

"I'm going to be late for work!" she said.

I paused. "I thought you already worked the day shift." I said, then went back to sucking.

"No butthead. I was at the game specifically looking for you, to tell you to stay away from my mother. When you popped your ankle that was just a gift from heaven."

Lucky me, I thought, and then heard my boss, her mother, speak. "Honey, check the mirror before you go out in public."

A groan. "He shot his jizz all over my face and hair. I look like a slut."

"Yes, but a very successful slut, my dear. Guess you aren't boring in bed anymore," said Mom.

Jean's tone softened. "Guess there is that. Thanks, Mom."
I heard them kiss as I continued to be nurtured by the sweetest tasting breast in the world. My front door opened and was slammed shut. My boss continued to caress my face as I nursed on her.

"Mind if I stay for a while?" My muffled response caused her to giggle.

**

The ringing telephone next to my head awoke me from a sound sleep. As I moved to reach the receiver, I discovered my hospital boss, Marjorie intertwined with me. Five rings into the call, before voicemail, I was finally able to get to the phone.

"Hello?" I said, looking at the clock in the process. Dinnertime had come and gone. "Yes, Mrs. Ryan. Calm down. Mrs. Ry. What's wrong?" The babbling voice on the other end of the connection cried and rambled on at the same time. Suddenly, my brain started to catch important phrases like "collapsed, fainted, unconscious and not breathing."

"Gotta move, Boss," I said, gently pushing her off and regretting every second of it. "I need to get up. Mrs. Ryan across the hall needs help. It seems her husband fell and she thinks he's not breathing. 911 put her on hold. She called over here on her cell. I need to."

Margie was awake and headed for the door. "Where?"

"Across the hall, but," I tried to say before Marjorie Whitcomb, RN extraordinaire started knocking on Mrs. Ryan's door. The door swung back.

"Barry, he's in the," she said, taking in the full measure of my boss wearing only very hot lace pink panties and my softball jersey flapping open. Edna Ryan's voice trailed off. "In the living room."

My barefoot blonde boss ran by the wife who started breathing again herself when she saw my familiar face then my cast and crutches. She just pointed to the living room. I found Margie kneeling beside Joshua Ryan, flat on his back on the antique rug his wife had won in an online auction. "I'm certified in CPR. Let me help."

"Not on a bum leg," she said. "Call 911."

Mrs. Ryan, shredding a tissue like an accountant, spoke. "I did and they put me on hold, the idea."

"Call again!" barked Margie. Then she proceeded to check Joshua's vital signs. She pinched his nose and tilted his chin up. Her lips locked onto his and she blew air into his mouth. Three puffs were all it took for Edna's husband to cough and open his yes. Blinking twice, he smiled.

"I must be dead and this has to be heaven," he said.

Why not? A minute ago he was communing with white light and then he is looking up at a half- naked knockout giving him mouth-to-mouth as her bare breasts swing back and forth in his face.

"Hi Barry, what are you doing here?"

**

The summer flew by and the big news in early fall was that our little non-profit hospital was gobbled up by a medical conglomerate. Changes were in the wind. A late fall afternoon told me how drastic they were going to be.

"I've been transferred to their medical center in North Carolina," said Marjorie. "It seems they value my experience with orthopedics and robotics."

"So let them get Steven Spielberg and R2D2," I said in a snarl. A sudden chill brought my coat collar up.

Her smile was weak. We paused for coffee near the big cat exhibit. "I've accepted the position."

"What about," I said, and then stopped. No strings meant no strings. "When do you leave?"

"Two hours. I need to go home and pack. I told Jeannie that she could come to you if she got into trouble. I hope that was alright." I nodded, she continued. "Barry, you know me. I don't do good-byes." She handed me a thick manila envelope. "This will explain everything. Please don't read it until I've left."

Marjorie Whitcomb kissed me briefly, and then left me in the middle of the zoo as lost as I had been the day before I met her for the first time. The very large Siberian tiger, staring at me from behind very thick glass yawned. I looked back at him.

"Great. Now what?" I said and started to open the envelope. The tiger growled. "Really? I should wait? Don't think so. Besides, what is she going to do about it if I don't?"

I tore at the envelope dropping its contents promptly to the ground. Picking them up, I got one last whiff of her scent. My heart started to cry. Then I looked at the envelope items. A map of North Carolina with the route from here to there highlighted, auto club turn-by-turn directions from my front door to the place she was transferring to, and a small plastic bag with a door key and a short note. The familiar handwriting simply said, "Could we please let for now last a little bit longer?"

The End