The party had been going on for three hours to far, and I'd been bored out of my mind for two and a half. Boring neighbors circulated everywhere telling boring stories about their boring vacations and boring fish they had caught, and god knows what else. My wife was happily ensconced on a couch with three girlfriends from the building, and would happily stay there all night, leaving me to my own devices. Never mind that I didn't know any of these people, let alone want to know them. I sipped at my bottle of Magners – at least the booze was good, that was something – and looked around the room for the hundredth of time, searching for someone mildly interesting to converse with.
It seemed like I smelled her scent before I saw her; a mix of sweet attar of roses with something autumnal, maybe pumpkin spice, a sultry mix that reminded me of romping in fields with Rosie Barnes when I was sixteen. Then she stepped into view, and I couldn't think of anything but her.
She stood maybe five-five, with a sleek frame that was curvy but not too curvy, pert tits that looked like a perfect handful, sexy searching eyes, full ripe red lips, and the longest, curliest dark brown hair I had ever seen. That's one thing that always gets me and as she moved across the room, tossing her head a little and making that lioness's mane move and sway as she shook her ripe hips, my cock started to twitch in my pants, stiffening along the leg of my dark green suit. I loosened the black tie around my neck a little more, my head feeling light as I watched this beauty sashay past, that scent filling my nostrils, a smell of summer afternoon sex with all the windows open.
The brunette vision was dressed in a simple black knee-length dress, though on her 'simple' hardly seemed the right word. It clung to her curves, accentuating her figure perfectly without being 'too short' or 'too tight' for polite dinner-party society. A string of white pearls at her elegant throat, black stockings (at least, I hoped they were stockings) and black fuck-me boots completed the cock-stiffening ensemble, and I knew I couldn't leave without at least knowing her name. I saw her move into a quiet corner, nibbling on a snack with those sweet lips and even white teeth and sipping a glass of wine, and I slowly made my way over to her. She saw me coming, her eyes catching mine before (I thought) running appreciatively over my body, her attention then returning to her drink, a slight trace of a smile on her lips.
"Great party, huh?" I offered, gesturing around and offering what I hoped was my most charming Irish smile.
The smile widened and she said "Actually, I'm bored as hell."
"Me too."
That got a laugh – a low, sultry laugh that made her body move in ways that sent more pulses of heat down my ever-longer dick. I held out my hand and she took it warmly in her own smaller, petite hand.
"I'm Griffin. Call me Griff."
"I'm Jen... Griff." This time her eyes moved unabashedly over my muscular frame, clad in my dark suit and black shirt, and call it wishful thinking but it seemed to me she liked what she saw. "You live in the building?"
"Just moved in last month. It's.. nice."
She laughed that sexy laugh again. "Meaning most of the people here are stiffs. I wholeheartedly agree. What I wouldn't give for some excitement," she said meaningfully, her eyes reaching mine again as she took a slow sip of wine, light glinting off the gold ring on her third finger.
"Your, uh... your husband doesn't give you... excitement?"
Jen stepped a little closer, looking up at me, something dark and playful in her eyes, and I glanced around to see if anyone was noticing this flirty display – they were all, thankfully, engrossed in boring business of their own. She trailed a finger down my tie, almost to my beltbuckle before sliding it back up again. "No, Griff... he doesn't. What do you think of that?"
I swallowed. Hard. And decided what the hell. "I think he's crazy. If I had you at home I'd barely let you out of the bedroom, let alone out on your own to a party."
Jen smiled slowly, the tip of her tongue emerging briefly as she licked her sensuous lips. "Well, aren't we the gentleman?" she purred, eyes flicking to my left hand. "And what about your wife? Does she.. let you out alone?"
"From time to time," I smiled, eyes cutting left. "She's very busy right now."
Jen followed my gaze to where my wife was holding court in the center of the room, in a crowd of people and laughter. "She's pretty," she said, sounding like she meant it. "Pretty lucky, too." Jen's eyes met mine again, and we held the gaze long enough for me to guess where this was going. Suddenly I cared about this party even less than before. I had to have this woman. Now.
"I was just about to say the same about your husband, Jen," I said, my eyes moving to her full tits in the clinging dress, to her shapely hips, elegant legs, sexy boots, and back via her lips to her wide, expressive eyes. "Want to get out of here?"
"Oh, god, yes," Jen said, looking around furtively before taking my hand in hers and silently leading me from the room along a dim corridor and up a small curved flight of stairs. I followed gladly, enjoying her swaying ass and the sound of those stockings (I was still hopeful) swishing together softly as she ascended the stairs. I resisted the strong urge to touch that fine, ripe ass.. for now.
"You know your way around this place pretty well."
"That tends to happen when you own it, handsome," Jen said, looking over her shoulder with a mischevious smile. We reached a large white door which she opened, ushering me inside as she swiftly closed and locked it. I was not very surprised to see it was the master bedroom; a huge four-poster bed dominated the room, covered in pristine black silk sheets, candles burning in every corner of the room. I turned to see Jen, leaning back against the door, her eyes burning and chest heaving.
"Now," she said, her voice low and sexy. "About that.. excitement?"
I made my way slowly over to Jen, closing the distance between us deliberately, watching her breathing quicken and her chest rise and fall faster the closer I got; I could almost feel sparks of electric heat flicker and burn between us as I stopped, standing over her, my eyes on hers, looking deep, searching. Her gaze never faltered, never flickered, as my hand reached out, sliding over her slim waist, her breath exhaling in a long, husky sigh as my fingers caressed her skin through the thin slinky dress, moving down to cup her shapely hip, then back up, outlining her figure, smoothly cupping one full, round breast, squeezing very softly.
Jen was practically purring now, her arms above her head, wrists crossed, offering her ripe lush body to me, her back arched and her head moving back and forth as my nimble strong fingers played with both stiffening nipples through the silky material of her dress, leaning closer, our faces close, our lips almost touching – but not quite. I was going to have this woman begging for everything from me, from the first kiss to the final cumshot.
