For Trillian, somewhere in Madagascar. You know who you are.
We'd met before at this annual conference. But it was last year that we really started to get to know each other. There was a mutual attraction to which neither would readily admit. And over this past year, we stayed in touch through email, or the occasional phone call, often flirtatious, the attraction building. At some point, I made my desires known. It's complicated, I recall you saying. You see, we're both married to others. Still, we secretly couldn't wait to next see each other at the upcoming conference.
On the first day of this year's conference, we're both occupied during the day, but exchanged pleasantries in passing. Later in the evening, more time for us -- work hard, play hard. Drinks, talking, gazing, touching. Arousal. It's getting late. I see you to your room. You unlock the door, but as you turned to say good night, I bring your hand to my lips and place a lingering kiss on your knuckles. You smile and slowly withdraw your hand, and turn to walk through the door.
But you leave the door open. Is it intentional? An invitation? I watch you walk slowly over to the window and take off one of your earrings, placing it on the side table. After a moment, without saying a word, I slip into the room, and you jump slightly as the door clicks shut behind me. Your back is still toward me as you continue to gaze out the window. Do you know I've entered? Do you think I've left? I stand silently for another minute as you take off the other earring, me taking you in, your curves, your gown gently stirring in the breeze from the open window.
Still, without speaking, I come up behind you, pull your hair to one side, and plant a gentle kiss just below your ear. You tilt your head to give me better access as I graze my lips down your neck, with a few more kisses along the way, to your shoulder, pulling your neckline down for one more precious inch of soft skin and one more precious kiss. That sigh I hear is encouraging. So I nuzzle back up your neck toward your ear, while my hands slide slowly down your sides. When my lips return to your ear, I murmur a vague obscenity. This causes you to grasp my hands, which have come to rest on your waist, and pull them in front of you, pressing our bodies tightly together, and your butt on my groin, as you try to gauge the effect you're having on me.
My tongue traces the semi-circle of your ear and arriving at your earlobe, I gently tug on it with my lips. Another sigh of encouragement. Meanwhile, one of my hands has escaped your grasp and has found its way to your chin. I turn your face toward me, grazing my lips down your jawline; the rest of your body follows, rotating, as you turn to face me. I brush my thumb across your lips, up your cheek, to your ear, sliding my hand around to the back of your neck and up into your hair. My other hand has found its way to the small of your back and I pull you in close. We are nose to nose, aware only of our labored breathing and the sparks in each other's eyes. Our heads tilt as we close the distance, but I grasp your hair and prevent that longed for contact. I said I like to tease. I allow the gap to close, but only slightly, just close enough to barely brush my lips back and forth on yours. When you can no longer stand my toying, you slide both of your hands up over my shoulders and behind my neck and pull me home, lips melting, bodies melding.
Fingers in hair, sparks flying, arousal building. We pull back, eyes locked, bodies embraced. I can feel your breasts against my chest, rising and falling with your breathing. We approach again, this time more slowly, more tentatively. I take you lower lip between mine and tug in playfully. You close yours and tug on my upper lip. We press together again, mouths open, tongues tempting.
All the while, my hands are exploring your backside. Down to your ass, taking a buttock in each one, squeezing, pulling you against me. I want you to know exactly the effect you're having on me. You are pleased to know, but you would never reveal it. You do, however, slide a leg up between mine, just to be sure. It hurts me so good, eliciting a groan of pain and pleasure, and a sly smile comes to your lips.
Now my hands are moving upward, into your slim waist, fingers on your back, thumbs pointing to your belly button. Are you an innie or an outie? I will know soon enough. As my hands slide further up your sides, my thumbs glance the sides of your breasts, and you let out a subtle gasp, not knowing if it was accidental or intentional. Then back around to your shoulder blades, my hands pull you into me again, pressing your breasts into my chest, and now I can feel how excited you are. At the same time, I'm doing a little reconnaissance -- yes, the clasp is in the back.
Your hair is mussed, your lipstick smeared, but you remain so beautiful when in amorous rapture. Kisses subside momentarily, to catch our breath and to gaze at the fire in each other's eyes before another wave crashes onto the shore.
My hands have moved south again. Another squeeze of your glorious ass before my fingers begin gathering up the fabric of your dress. You raise one knee up the outside of my leg, and I respond by sliding my hand along your exposed thigh and down as far as I can toward your ankle. My hand then moves to the backside, to your calf, for the return trip, pausing to delicately stroke that sensitive skin behind your knee. Resuming its journey up the underside of your thigh, my fingers, reaching for the silky smooth inside, eventually find the crotch of your panties. It's warm and moist. My touch here shocks you into locking your arms around my neck and lifting your other leg up, locking your ankles behind me, and I carry you this way over to the bed.
Releasing my grip on your ass, you unlock your arms and legs, falling to a sitting position, and take advantage of your now lower position to begin unbuttoning my shirt. Pulling it up to free the last button, you can't resist grasping me through my trousers. I emit a guttural moan of such intense pleasure that you are momentarily frightened; I don't hide my response nearly as well as you. With increased vigor, I push you backward on the bed, onto your elbows, following you, pursuing you. You frantically scoot back, feigning an escape, but I restrain you, and am quickly on top of you, ravishing your lips once more. Your hands are on my chest as if to push me back, but you offer no such resistance. My hand slides up to cup one of your breasts but staying off the nipple for now. At the same time, I press one of my knees up into your crotch, and you can't resist rubbing yourself up and down on my thigh.
Suddenly, I roll over, pulling you with me, so you are on top, freeing my hands to address the fastenings of your dress. As I release the hook and slowly pull down the zipper, deftly unclasping your bra on the way. Your feeble, repeated whimpers of "No... No..." are belied by your fingers feverishly unfastening my belt.
