- For holly_delight -
* * *
"Ted, this is Holly, remember me?"
I instantly pictured the beautiful 30something engineer whose employer had flown her all the way from Germany to attend the seminar I presented on "State of the Art Security in the new Century". I had wanted so badly to cradle my face in her firm ripe breasts, but the crowds of well wishers and time wasters interfered. All we managed was a coffee in the Airport lounge, where she mentioned her interest in handcuffs.
Okay, we did pull off a quick straight fuck in the airport ladies room, but that didn't count, it was almost totally vanilla. The foreplay was primarily verbal, describing to each other our tastes in kink. She admitted never being tied with real rope: "Doesn't it burn?" she asked.
"Only if you want it to," I replied, "or play with amateurs."
I expressed a preference for handcuffs: "There's something about chrome, it's become a fetish with me- nipple clamps, handcuffs, even chrome butt plugs."
By that point, Holly's skin was glowing; her breath was becoming a pant. "If I slipped my fingers into your panties, would I find dampness?"
"Who's wearing panties?"
I ran my hand up her leg right in the coffee shop, not carrying if her remark was a tease, a dare or an invitation. Her whole thighs were drenched in sweet dew. I just had to taste her. I removed my hand, and with full drama, looking her directly in the eyes, licked every drop off my flesh, languidly savouring the flavour. "I think we just have time before your flight for you to go to the ladies room."
"Wha... I 'm fine...."
"No, Holly, you need to go into the ladies room."
Her eyes sparkled with awareness and fear. Although she had confessed over cocktails the previous day to a few affairs, at this stage she was very married. Her husband however was too straight to excite her. She knew she needed a newer, rougher, lover. I waited patiently, staring into her eyes. After a moment, they gleamed with excitement. The moment of acceptance. Just as quickly, fear, and shame at her weakness, took over.
Her shoulders slumped in surrender, and she shuffled dejectedly to the ladies room off the lounge. I followed discretely, ensuring the waitress was across the room. Holly's defeated attitude temporarily caused my hardness to flag, but upon seeing how the modern powder room featured chrome on every possible surface, I broke into a huge grin. Holly was in the first stall, her skirt hiked around her waist, her blouse open, panting. Passion had overcome indecision.
"Out here," I beckoned.
"But what if we're caught, what if they tell my husband?"
I sneered. I waited. Slowly, she emerged. Her breathing was even more rapid. The fear of discovery seemed to excite her after she had accepted her fate. I bent her over the counter, facing the mirror, her reflection shining up off all the bright surfaces. I mauled her breasts forcefully with both hands, paying special attention to her huge erect nipples. Straight fuck or not, she deserved some painful pleasure. She moaned in response, almost a bark.
Realizing time was not our ally; I unzipped quickly and drove my already rigid cock straight up into her dilated pussy in a single stroke from behind. I added to the sensation by biting her ear, pistoning rapidly, driving her into the counter top. Holly came almost instantly with a groan, then a yelp. I doubt I had stroked more than four or five times. It may have been the public location; it might have been the infidelity. Perhaps a mix of both. Holly continued bumping back into my, pushing back away from the countertop. My orgasm followed soon after. I continued pumping as my cum flooded inside her, the excess seeping out, running down her thighs.
As we slumped gasping for breath, a woman exited the second stall. Calmly, this matron soaped up, washing her hands thoroughly. I expected a censorious remark. Instead, as she left, she whispered "I had to make sure to wash all my cum juice off- can't be turning on the son-in-law, or shocking the grandkids." Grinning, she left.
"Too bad she didn't help out," I remarked to Holly, who was still recovering. Before she could even respond, her flight was called. She ran to catch her plane so quickly; I never got her phone number. In fact, she left me there with my wilted cock hanging out of my fly, soaked with her nectar. I must admit, I took a taste, and enjoyed the ripe odor until my next shower.
I returned to my midwestern base of operations, alternating sales of high end computerized security systems with samples of the neglected trophy wives found around the community pool of our condominium. Holly was not forgotten, but was certainly not on the forefront of my plans, either future or immediate. Until she called.
"I got your number from the program bios. I'm in your part of the world, doing some special assignments. I have a few days to kill."
