Hot Shower

I pulled out my chair, hardly even looking at those sitting at the table already. I was frustrated, embarrassed, and still a little shaky after the orgasm I was still a little dizzy from. My heart raced almost as fast as my mind did as I took a seat. I smiled at those sitting around me, barely even registering who I saw. I listened with half an ear as everyone discussed the week, the food, business, the weather, and any other menial topic that didn't seem to even register with me in my current state of arousal. I know I carried on conversations, but I couldn't tell you what I said. Apparently, I never made a major fool of myself because no one stopped me. I ate dinner, still in my own little world, reliving the ride down in the elevator, and the scene in my hotel room from earlier. Every once in a while, I blush, thinking of the camera watching us in the elevator, but more often, I smile, remembering the orgasms I've already had.

I feel your hand reach below the long table cloth to run along the inside of my thigh every now and again. With the lights dimmed as they are, it is still not dim enough for you to linger there. I know you can see me shiver when you stroke your fingers lightly across my knee, and see me bite my lip as they caress just a little higher before innocently removing your hand. I wonder if you notice when I take my hand and slide it up under the tablecloth, under the protection of the napkin spread across my lap, up 'till I can lightly rub my fingernail across my clit. It makes me shift in my chair, more arousal coursing through my body.

The lights dim more as the speaker takes the podium, and everyone adjusts their chairs to give him their undivided attention. I never plan to, or hear a word he says. I've found that even with the lights up, my napkin provides me with enough protection to covertly rub my clit. But now, with the lights down, only the small candle at the center of the table offering light, I am more relaxed as I rub my finger faster and faster across my clit. I stop to push one, then two fingers inside my pussy, then bring the slick moisture up to rub against my clit again.

You move your chair closer to mine, and lean forward a bit, as if you are listening to the man at the podium. I know you can see exactly what I'm doing. You sit silently for now, letting me enjoy myself, watching my face as I enjoy myself. I blush a little, still a little uncomfortable with you watching me. Still self conscious.

And then, I don't care, I don't even see the room we are in, in my head, I'm back up in my hotel room, as if we hadn't come downstairs at all. I'm standing in my tight skirt with my white button down shirt hanging, untucked at my sides. You kiss me hard, pulling you tight to your body, and I shiver as I feel your hard dick against my belly. I reach behind me, trying to undo the clasp for my skirt, but my fingers don't work as quickly as I'd like. What seems like hours later, I release the hook, and slide the zipper down and allow the skirt to drop to the floor. I reach for your belt, and struggle to open it, then your pants. You take over, and quickly shed the pants and push me down onto the bed, following my down, sliding against me, kissing me, pinning my body down against the bed. I try my best to quickly unbutton your shirt, wanting to feel your hard body against my soft one. Wanting to feel your skin against mine. I finally get the final button and you move away from me only long enough to pull it off and throw it to the chair. My hands move to my own buttons, ready to open them, but you look at me and shake your head.

"You are too slow," you whisper as you grab the sides of my shirt and pull it open, popping the buttons off as the shirt comes violently apart. You push it off my shoulders and pull it down my arms, trapping my hands behind me, rendering me unable to move. You smile again, once more in complete control. I shiver at the cool air that now rushes across my chest, but more, I shiver at the intensity in your eyes.

I watch as you look at me, completely bare now, completely vulnerable. I close my eyes, that self consciousness is back. I know how I look to my own eyes, and worry that you see a slightly overweight, nearly thirty woman with too many curves in all the wrong places. And then, when your body pushes into mine again, and I feel your dick hard against my thigh, I don't care.

I wrap my legs around your waist, wanting you inside of me, filling me. I feel your hands slide across my body, tracing circles around my nipples, then moving lower, until I feel your thumb graze across my clit. You move your thumb so slowly, in deliberate, agonizing strokes as you just as slowly push your dick into my pussy. Before you are even half way inside of me, the orgasm sweeps through my body hard and fast. My heart is racing, my breath comes out in a pant.

I open my eyes just as the crowd moves to its feet in applause as the speaker concludes his remarks. I look at you, and you too are clapping, but I think it has more to do with the performance I just put on than what the speaker said. But that might just be wishful thinking on my part. I try to stand, but my legs are still unsteady. You reach out and help me to my feet, and I lean slightly against you as I begin to clap as if I knew what has been said, or what the applause is for.

You lean down to whisper into my ear, "Care to tell me about that?"

I turned around and smirked a little at you, then surreptitiously moved one finger to my mouth, and after sucking what remained of my juices off, I said, "Maybe later."