Frustrated, I sit, pulling up a small table and opening my laptop. It's been a hell of a day already, and I desperately need the coffee in front of me. Taking a sip, I open my email, and smile at seeing your name. Suddenly lighter, I open and begin to read.
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We stand facing expansive plate glass windows that look out onto San Francisco Bay. The fog is rolling in over the hills towards downtown. The Golden Gate will soon be enveloped and the blinking red warning lights illuminate the white canopy from below in a steady throbbing pulse.
You sip your glass of wine with your back pushed up against my chest as we take in the view.
"I've always wanted to try this," you say.
Behind you, I look down to see your beautiful hair and amazing body from a nearly vertical viewpoint. Your polka dot dress is one of my favorites—I love polka dots. Your long lovely legs are smooth and matched with a set of comfortable black heels that are simply smashing. From my vantage, I can see down your ample cleavage and marvel at how firm and full your breasts are. You are a beautiful woman.
I gently wrap my hand around the front of your waist and draw you close to me. I can feel my cock start to stiffen against the small of your back as we make contact. You feel it too and faintly smile knowing that it's turning us both on. You shift your weight back and forth knowing what the friction will do.
The party in the room is in full swing. Well-dressed men and women mingle as the sun sets and the fog continues to gain ground, floating across the bay and towards us.
"It's beautiful" you say.
I lean down and gently brush your hair to one side and kiss your neck while whispering in your ear that you look incredible and that I can't wait for the evening to unfold. My tongue travels down a discrete section of your neck and I can feel your goose bumps spring to life. I look down to see your nipples jump to attention. The thought of them straining against your sexy lingerie, wanting to be free and attended to, makes me even harder. The head of my cock pushes well past the top of my shorts and grows wet with anticipation.
Diana Krall plays over the stereo system as the room's energy builds in anticipation—it's almost electric.
"Hi, I'm Peter," says the dark haired good-looking man next to us.
We introduce ourselves, and begin to chitchat. Work, food, travel, the view; the conversation meanders as we sip our drinks and nibble at the trays of hors d'oeuvres that move about the room in the hands of the caterers.
The sexual charge in the room grows, and as the conversation continues we see small groups cluster and form, enjoying one another's company. The music plays on, the wine flows and the horizon begins to darken as the last of the sunset fades away. The soft room lighting and the raging fireplace throwing off heat make the evening all the more magical.
The general din and noise of the room begins shifting—the level moves lower and the sounds begin to change. Conversation gives way to deeper tones, sounds of kissing, and sounds of passion.
"Jennifer," says Peter, "You are a stunning woman, and Trevor, you're a very lucky man."
"Don't I know it," I say. "Jennifer is an AMAZING kisser—you should see for yourself."
Peter catches my eye and we both smile. You look over your shoulder to me, "are you sure you're okay with this?"
