As the 737 lifted off I was horny. Today was my husband's birthday and he had been away from home on business for two weeks. He didn't expect to be back for another week, but we had never missed celebrating his birthday or mine since we had met ten years ago, and we always celebrated with sex.
Dave and I talked by phone every night and the phone calls had become phone sex a couple of times a week during the past two weeks. As much as I like masturbating while listening to his deep, growly voice talking dirty to me over the phone, it just wasn't the same as listening to his deep, growly voice talking dirty to me while his hard, hot cock filled my pussy to the brim, and he pinched my nipples and massaged my breasts. No, the real thing was always so much better.
So, I had taken direct action. Dave's secretary, Suzy, was an old friend of mine. Before I met Dave, Suzy and I used to troll the bars for sexy men. She knew how much I enjoyed screwing and was more than happy to help me arrange a surprise for Dave. We had gotten together for lunch and hatched a plan to insure that Dave's and my record of birthday sex would remain intact. She had booked an appointment on his birthday for a dinner meeting with a prospective client at the restaurant in his hotel. The plan was that I would be the prospective client, but Dave wouldn't know that until I arrived.
I knew it was going to work, because he told me about it the evening after Suzy booked the appointment. He wasn't happy about having to spend his birthday working and told me how much he would rather be home screwing with me. We both got so excited fantasizing about how we would fuck, if he was home on his birthday, that by the end of the call we had gotten each other off.
Now it was Tuesday, Dave's birthday, and I was on my way to Los Angeles where I would be the "new client" that he was going to meet. Once the plane was airborne, I opened my tablet and began to read a dirty story I had loaded on it. I hadn't thought about anything but fucking Dave since I had gotten out of bed, so I really didn't need to read porn, but this story had a great seduction scene that I wanted to recreate for Dave tonight. The story on my tablet was a good one, but I really couldn't get my mind off Dave. All I could think about was how good my pussy felt when it was stuffed full with Dave's cock. By the time I got to Los Angeles, my panties were soaked.
I had reserved a room in Dave's hotel so that I could clean up and get dressed for our meeting. I wanted to make sure that my pussy was freshly shaved for our meeting, and I couldn't very well do that in his room, if I was going to surprise him.
I took a cab to the hotel. Suzy had assured me that I wouldn't run into him, because his calendar was booked for an all day meeting. But, as some wise person said, the best of plans sometimes get all screwed up. As I walked into the lobby of the hotel, I realized that Dave was sitting there in the middle of the lobby, chatting with one of his colleagues from work. I did a U-turn and just kept going back around the revolving door until I was outside again. As I passed the gentleman who had followed me into the door, he looked at me like I was nuts. After all, most people don't go around in circles in a revolving door.
Once I was outside, I grabbed my cell phone and called Suzy. "Suzy, he's here!" I said, with a tinge of panic in my voice.
"Of course he's there," Suzy responded. "Do you think I would send you all the way to LA and not make sure he was going to be there?"
"No. I know that, but I mean he's sitting in the lobby chatting up one of his salesman. I can't check in with him sitting in the middle of the lobby! What do we do now?"
"Not to worry. I can take care of it," Suzy said. "You stay out of sight, while I call him and send him off on a goose chase. I will call you once I have him out of the lobby."
A few minutes later my phone rang.
"Okay, Shelly. Get in there and check in. I sent him up to his room to get some papers and then fax them to me from the business center on the third floor. It should take him at least fifteen minutes. They don't mean a thing, but he thinks the CEO wants to see them."
"Thanks Suz, you're a doll."
"Well, I appreciate that compliment, but I wish I could find a man as handsome as your husband who thinks that way. Now go!"
I hustled through the check-in process and got myself out of the lobby and into an elevator before Dave got back to the lobby. Once I got into my room with the door safely closed behind me, I let out a huge sigh. That was close! Now I had three hours to get ready for tonight.
I unpacked my suitcase and then filled the oversized tub with hot water for a bath. I had rented a suite. If I was going to spend the evening and weekend with Dave, I didn't want to do it in the kind of postage stamp room that his company was willing to pay for.
The bath was luxurious. After half an hour of sitting in the tub reading more porn on my tablet, I carefully shaved my legs and my pussy, leaving only a small landing strip of neatly-trimmed hair just above. Then I wrapped myself in the robe supplied by the hotel and stretched out in the reclining chair to think about how I wanted to seduce Dave tonight. I had a wonderful view of the city through the windows of my 34th floor suite and, given the height, I saw no reason to close the curtains or to be particularly careful about keeping the robe closed to cover my pussy or my boobs. Okay, maybe I am just a little bit of an exhibitionist.
Of course, I knew that my ultimate objective was to get Dave up to this room and to get his cock rock hard and stuffed into my pussy, but the issue that needed thought was how to go about it. I had brought a variety of very sexy outfits, but most of them were not something I could wear when I went to the restaurant to show up as his new client, so the first question was, what to wear to dinner—a woman's never-ending problem.
After about half an hour of thought (okay, a lot of it was fantasizing about sex with Dave), I settled on a tight, short, dark skirt, sheer black thigh-high nylons with a seam up the back, a nice pair of four-inch spike heels (hoping I could still remember how to walk in them), a white blouse, and a string of pearls. Bra and panties were not to be a part of the ensemble. What I really wanted to wear, of course was just the heels, the nylons and the pearls, but that would have to wait for later.
Our dinner date was for 6:00 p.m., so I had to fix my hair and make-up and get dressed. I slipped off the robe and stood naked before the mirror. Okay, so I was 32, but the bod still looked pretty good. I stood five-eight with short, dark hair cut in a pageboy and long sexy legs. My 34C boobs had not sagged and, as I rubbed them, my dark brown nipples stood out like pencil erasers. Fuck, that stimulation of my nipples sent a shot straight to my crotch, but I had been resisting the impulse to masturbate all day, and I wasn't going to succumb now. My belly was still flat, and as I turned, I could see that my pear-shaped ass had not sagged or gotten flabby. Apparently all those hours in the gym were paying off.
I stepped into the heels I planned to wear tonight and inspected my legs. Still long, lean, and shapely, and there was no flab sagging into saddlebags along the tops of my thighs. My legs were probably a bit more muscular than a runway model's legs, but Dave had always told me he liked that, especially when they were wrapped around his back while he fucked me or around his head while he ate my pussy. Oh, the thought of each of those was so delicious. I spread my pussy lips apart and slipped a finger into my glistening cunt. It felt so good, but then I made myself stop. Tonight was for fucking, not masturbating. As much as I like our phone sex sessions, I like fucking better.
Still in front of the mirror, I kicked the pumps off, sat down and slowly pulled the shear black nylons over my legs. Then I stepped into the pumps again and fastened the string of pearls around my neck. I posed before the mirror again, wearing just those three items and thought about how much fun it would be to greet Dave as his new client, just wearing the pumps, the nylons and the pearls. Of course, I would be arrested before I could get to his table, but the fantasy was sinfully delicious. So nasty!
Next, I sat down before the mirror, dealing with my hair and make-up. My hair is always easy to deal with since I keep it cut short—it was just a matter of combing it out. I did spend about half an hour putting on my make-up. I usually don't wear much make-up, but tonight I spent some time on it, making sure that my eyes were just a touch short of a slutty teenager's make-up. I always enjoyed sitting naked or near naked before a mirror as I put on make-up. I wonder if that is some kind of minor league perversion?
Once I was satisfied with the make-up, I pulled on the skirt and put on the blouse, leaving a couple of the highest buttons unfastened so that anyone that looked could see a generous vision of cleavage. I twirled before the mirror to evaluate the overall affect. Not bad I thought—conservative and slutty at the same time. I particularly liked the way my tits bounced as I walked. The bounce of my boobs could be just a soft bra, and then again it could be the absence of a bra. Men loved to speculate about that sort of thing. No one could tell that I had dispensed with panties but the exposure of my wet pussy lips to the air made sure I felt extra naughty. I smiled a wicked smile as I thought about the ways I could make sure that Dave knew about it.
I looked at my watch and realized it was time to go, so I picked up a small clutch (Women never go to dinner without their purse. Who knows? Some gracious waiter might want to card you when you ordered a drink, and it would be a shame not get my vodka tonic on a night like this. Also it helps to have your room key when you plan to bring a man back to your room.)
I walked out the door of my room and down the hall to the elevator. I tried to add a bit more swing to my hips as I walked, and I was greatly enjoying the air on my naked pussy and the bounce of my tits under my conservative white blouse.
The elevator door opened and there were two older ladies already aboard headed for the lobby. I stepped to the back of the car and leaned against the wall. As we descended they stood with their backs to me gossiping about a mutual friend who apparently was courting her fourth husband. Since they were ignoring me, I released one more button on my blouse and slid a hand in to pull on one and then the other of my nipples. I looked at the mirror on the side of the elevator as we approached the lobby and saw my now rock hard nipples were plainly visible as they lifted the blouse up into a little tent on each side. I smiled to myself. The two old ladies continued to ignore me, but from what I could hear of their conversation, they certainly thought their friend was a slut.
The elevator opened, and I walked through the lobby, continuing to swing my hips as I had practiced in the hallway 34 floors up. I captured the attention of several good-looking men (and a couple of slugs, but they don't count) and I enjoyed it thoroughly, but I did not pause as I headed directly to the restaurant.
As I approached the maître d', I stood tall and pushed my boobs out against the blouse. My nipples were still hard and obvious to him, unless he was so gay as to be oblivious.
"May I help you, Madame?''
Not gay. He was talking to my face but looking straight at my boobs and their protruding nipples. What fun!
"Yes, I am looking for a Mr. Richards," I responded. "But I haven't met him before, so I don't know what he looks like," I lied. "I am just in town for a couple of days, and it is an opportunity for us to talk about a business relationship." Well, the last sentence was mostly true, except for the business part. I had no intention of charging him for what I was going to do with him tonight, although the idea of role playing as a hooker and her John was interesting, but not for tonight.
The maître d' tore his eyes away from my tits long enough to look at the paperwork on the evening's guests that was before him.
"Oh, yes. Mr. Richards. Right this way, please." He paused before turning to lead me to Dave's table. I know he wanted to figure out how to lead me from behind so he could ogle my long sexy legs and swinging ass, but he couldn't figure out how to do it, so he led and I followed, swinging my hips for everyone but the maître d' to see. Every job has its downsides, poor guy.
He led me to a booth in a dark corner of the restaurant. Dave was looking down at his Blackberry and did not see us approach.
"Mr. Richards, your guest has arrived."
