AFTER HAPPY HOUR...
‘Show me’ he said…and she did.
After the Happy Hour, he approached her. She was
drunk, that was assured. It was the same old jokes with the same old crew.
Predictable. But not him. As everyone dissipated into their separate rides
(many of which could be found at the side of the road, in back seats), he
approached her, and said ‘You should come with me.’’ She just looked at him…and
grabbed her bag.
She was a little frightened, a little offended
and very excited.
She was surprised when they walked the short
distance back to the office. She didn’t expect that. They found their way to
the Conference room, the huge period table, and the tall and wide windows that
looked over the city.
There was no conversation since he first spoke
at the bar. He walked to the table, and pulled 2 chairs out, about 6 feet
apart, facing each other. He sat down in one and just looked at her. His eyes
were a deep green, which caught glimmers of the headlights from the road below.
‘Show me’.
She started to remove her business suit jacket,
and he shook his head. ‘No. Show me yourself’.
She sat down and looked at him, stared in his
eyes. She felt her legs spread, felt the climate controlled air prickle her
thighs, felt the pressure of her garters and stockings, the delicious elastic
stress which distracted her through the slow days. She felt her palms on her
thighs, and felt her self open more. She could smell her own sex. This man,
this night, was having an amazing effect on her.
‘Show me’
And she sat back deeper in the chair, thrust her
hips out. Her steadily soaking panties were in plain view, her hands rubbed her
thighs and small traces across her clit, quick lightening bolt quick pinches
that made her breathe heavy. She slipped on finger through the top of her
panties and laid her finger on her clit, small circles and increasing speed.
She was panting, her skirt rode up obscene, her perfectly done hair started to
drop from its arrangements. And she stared in his eyes the whole time.
And he looked back; into her eyes, between her
legs, then her eyes again. He didn’t seem affected, and this drove her wilder,
more lusty, she needed to make him react, whatever it took. She put two more
fingers down her panties and wet sounds came through, she could feel her juices
running out of her, staining the expensive chair. She slid a wet hand up her
blouse, felt her nipples with her own juices, pulled at it, made it very long.
She could smell her pussy on her fingers, on her chest. She brought the finger
to her lips and licked it hungrily.
He moved a bit in his chair, the room was
scented with desire, the temperature and complete silence goading them into
more. She stood, and let her skirt drop, her thoroughly dirty panties drop,
stood in her garters and business suit jacket. She started at him as she
turned, and looked over her shoulder at him. And bent over the ornate table, her
ass in the air, less than 3 feet from him. And slid in her finger from below,
opened her self to him, showed him what he was doing to her, daring him to
taste. It was an animal thing now, it was pheromones and sweat and she needed
satisfaction.
And he stood, and roughly turned her over on the
table. He held he calves in his hands, looking down at her, at her riffled
clothes, her heated sex. He started in her eyes even as he started to lower his
mouth to her pussy, even as he strongly gripped her ass cheeks and kept them a
bit open. He slowly licked he clit, but with a steady and increasing speed. His
thumb slid a bit more, a bit closer to her ass, opening her more. She felt him
tenderly lick and then a small bite. The bites made her moan loud, no muffling
this desire; she called out to the Gods. She felt his strong hands hold her
open while his tongue whipped her pussy and bit at her thighs. She felt fingers
inside her, how many she had no idea, and didn’t care. They worked with a slow
rhythm that caught her own rhythm, and the whole table rocked back and forth.
And when she came, it was so loud she was afraid the people would hear from the
street below. She came hard…and she
awoke, alone, half naked and still on the conference room table, no trace of
her mysterious lover.
She expected him to return. She was his, and he
knew that too.