The lounge was virtually empty when she walked in. She glanced at her watch. He had told her to be there at 4:30...and she was right on time. There was a middle-aged couple sitting at the bar, but all of the little tables with their high stools were vacant.
She proceeded to the one located in the center of the room...precisely as he had instructed her to do. She climbed into the stool and looked around. The lounge was dimly lit, but everything about it was rather tasteful...not sleazy at all. What did she expect? This was a first class hotel catering to business people...people who probably were still attending one of the several conferences the hotel was hosting.
"What can I get for you?"
She was startled out of her thoughts by the overture from the cocktail waitress. She pondered a minute, then made her request. The pretty young woman jotted a note on her pad, then gave her a strange smile as she headed for the bar.
Suddenly, she was acutely aware of her appearance. The outfit that he had selected for her was flattering...but perhaps not as tasteful as her surroundings. The plunging neckline of her silky black dress revealed a considerable amount of cleavage. And the short hem showcased her legs...but despite her frequent tugging, it failed to hide the fact that she was wearing hose and garters rather than pantyhose. Then there were the high heels. Definitely more of the "fuck me" style than fashionable.
She wondered if the cocktail waitress thought she was a hooker. Nah...he had ordered her to leave her hair and make up simple, according to her personal preference. No self-respecting prostitute would leave the house like that, she giggled to herself.
"Here ya go."
The young woman placed her drink on the table, marked it on the tab, then gave her another strange smile before walking away. What was she thinking?
She sipped her drink slowly and resumed looking around. There was now a lot more activity in the hallway outside the lounge. She looked at her watch. It was getting close to 5:00. Where was he?
A group of businessmen came into the lounge and occupied a table nearby. She tried to ignore them...but she couldn't help notice them glancing over at her as they talked among themselves. Fortunately, more people were coming in, and several of them took tables that blocked their view.
Her relief was short lived. One of the men got up from the table, and after making a remark to his colleagues over his shoulder, he approached her.
"Would you like to join us?" he asked.
"Thank you," she replied as matter-of-factly as she could. "But I'm waiting for someone."
"Okay...sure," he said. "You're welcome anytime you change your mind."
She averted her gaze as he walked back to his table. But she could not avert her ears, and she heard scattered snickers followed by a large group laugh permeating through the intervening space.
She sipped her drink and glanced repeatedly at her watch. Where the hell was he? She tugged at the hem of her dress again. Damn. No way to keep the skin above her stockings from showing. Well...at least she could keep her legs together and make sure no one could see she wasn't wearing panties...
"This is from the gentleman over there," the cocktail waitress said as she placed a refill on the table and nodded toward the bar.
She looked over quickly, expecting to see him at last. But instead, it was another businessman. Oh my God, she thought. What is going on here?
But suddenly, she felt herself smiling. The guy from the group had not been particularly attractive. But this guy was gorgeous. And relatively young. He actually looked like one of those male models in the Ralph Lauren Polo ads...
Oh shit! She mentally chastised herself as she saw him smile back, lift his glass, and then start approaching. What the fuck do I do now?
"May I join you?" he asked politely. And then without waiting for a response, he seated himself on the stool beside her.
"Um..er..I'm waiting for someone," she managed to stammer.
"That's okay...I'll wait with you," he shot back with a grin that indicated a little conceit and a lot of confidence.
"He..he..he should be here any minute...He's already late."
It was no use. The young man wasn't going anywhere. He launched into his small talk routine. She couldn't concentrate on what he was saying...but she couldn't help but hear him...nor could she help hearing more snickering coming from the group at the other table.
"Are you hungry?"
The question caught her off guard. Dammit. She was hungry. But he had instructed her not to eat before he arrived. She had been disobediently nibbling on the pretzels the waitress had placed on the table...but the drinks were essentially hitting an empty stomach.
"I'm...yes...well...I'm waiting...I mean..." she stammered in reply.
"They've got a nice restaurant here," he continued while ignoring her discomfort. "But I've got a suite upstairs...and maybe you'd prefer room service."
He punctuated the last comment by placing his hand on her leg. She stiffened as she felt his fingers slide along the top of her stockings and tickle the exposed flesh.
She looked around. The lounge was quite crowded now. How could she stop this without making a scene?
"C'mon...You can have anything you want...And maybe I'll have anything I want too," he said with bold smirk.
She realized that her silence was encouraging him. But what could she say?
"I don't...I mean...thank you...but I..." she stammered as she put her hand on his and feebly attempted to push it away.
"C'mon," he repeated...
This time the punctuation was a firm squeeze of her thigh. Her eyes closed involuntarily and a short gasp escaped from her lips as she felt his fingers dig into her exposed flesh.
"Are you ready to go, sweetheart?"
Her eyes popped open. He was here! She watched him peruse the bar tab sitting on the table, remove a generous bill from his wallet, and toss it on the table.
"Let's go."
Suddenly, she became acutely aware of the hand still resting on her thigh. She leapt to her feet, effectively freeing herself from its grasp...but also sending her into a bit of a totter on her exceedingly high heels.
Her companion stood as well...And she – as well as anyone else who glanced over – could see a rather pronounced bulge in his expensive pants.
She grabbed his hand and followed him out of the lounge. "How did your presentation go?" she asked with as much innocence as she could feign.
"It was okay," he replied as he steered her toward the elevator. "I just want to drop my briefcase off in the room, and then we'll go to dinner. I'd love to get out of these clothes too, but I think the restaurant requires a jacket."
She scrutinized his "professional" outfit. He was hopeless. Ill-fitting jacket, solid color shirt and tie that were as dull as dishwater, baggy trousers, scuffed loafers. Oh, well...it evidently worked for him, and they probably would grant him entrance into the dining room.
"Did you have fun while you were waiting for me?" he asked as he quickly pulled her into the elevator just as the doors were closing.
The combination of the question and the pull caused her to wobble on her heels again, and she stumbled clumsily into the elevator. "Yes...I mean no...I mean..." she stammered and then fell silent.
He held her hand and stared straight ahead as the elevator began its ascent. There were three other couples riding along with them...And she gradually became aware that all the men were studiously averting their eyes while all the women were glaring at her.
Oh my God! She looked down and saw that her less-than-ladylike entrance had caused her dress to shift...and the aureola of her left nipple was slipping above the neckline. She blushed bright crimson and struggled to readjust her clothing as discreetly as she could under the circumstances.
The elevator stopped at the 6th floor, and all three couples exited. The doors closed, and they were alone as they continued their journey up to the 15th.
He turned to her, let go of her hand, and pressed her against the wall. He kissed her...hard...deep...and let his hands wander over her body. One hand came to rest on her right breast...squeezing gently. The other hand slid between her legs and began climbing upward along the insides of her thighs.
"You shameless little slut!" he shouted at her. "You're soaking wet!"
"No..no.." she protested. But she could not deny the evidence. "It started when I saw you," she lied.
The doors of the elevator opened. He grabbed her by the hair and started dragging her down the hallway to the room. She stumbled along, trying desperately to maintain her balance on the damned heels while praying that no one was around to see what was happening. It seemed like an eternity before he reached the door, slid the key card, opened it, and pushed her through.
"I should have known you wouldn't be able to control yourself, you skanky whore," he said as he continued shoving her forward. "Although I would've thought you'd take the group invitation...That's more your style than the boy toy."
Fuck him! He was watching the whole time! The fucking sonofabitch!
She pulled away from him and stood straight. "I can't believe you did that to me, you bastard."
"That's nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you," he snapped back as he placed his briefcase next to the bed and sank into the large easy chair.
"Fuck you," she shot back.
"You wish," he replied calmly. "Now...take off the dress so I can see how hot you've gotten yourself."
Another "fuck you" came to her mind...But it didn't make it out of her mouth. The look in his eyes sucked the will right out of her, and she found herself unable to do anything but obey.
She reached behind and unzipped the dress, then stepped out of it as it fell to the floor. She felt his gaze on her as she stood there in just garter belt, hose, and heels...and she pressed her legs together so he wouldn't see the moisture that she could feel trickling down the insides of her thighs.
"Lordy, that pussy is steaming," he sneered.
"No..no..it's not," she lied again.
"No? Well...I think you should check it out for yourself. Go ahead. Stick a finger in there."
