My Friend is your Friend
Irene awoke, realizing when she scratched her nose she could smell her own sex on her fingers and immediately realized she was still naked from the waist down. She started to move, her leg bumping against her dildo beside her in the bed, and realized she needed to wash it, wash herself, and get some clean underwear. Glancing over at Tina, she was on her side facing the other direction, so she just got up, gathered clean underwear and bra, and went in to take a shower. She washed her toy in the sink and put it on the back of the toilet before climbing into the shower.
She wasn't one to normally luxuriate for long periods under running water, but she didn't normally share a room with someone other than her husband, either. She was right in the middle of washing her hair when she heard Tina's knock on the door, just before she opened it, and a query of "Can I come in and use the toilet?"
"Of course, come on in." She was facing the wall, but heard Tina open the toilet and piss, the toilet flushing a moment later. She heard her wash her hands and the door open and shut, just about the time she reached and turned the water off. Turning around to reach for a towel, her eyes focused through the water splashed glass onto the toilet and her extra-large, ebony black, friend resting on the back of it. She hadn't even thought about it when she'd told Tina to come on in but knew now that there were no longer any questions about what her toy looked like. There wasn't anything she could do about it now; she just put on her bra and panties and picked it up with her pajamas and went out and put them away.
She hesitated, standing in front of the several clean blouses she had left. She'd known last night what she was going to wear today, she'd already pulled on her pants, but
show a little skin, show a little cleavage
was stuck in her head. Hesitantly she took the
other
blouse from the closet and slipped it over her head. A deep U neck exposed some of the tops of her breasts and, from putting on makeup when she leaned into the mirror, she knew when she bent over it was quite possible to look down somewhat between them. Truthfully, she didn't know why she'd brought this blouse along; she'd had it in mind to wear for Oscar when she went home, but too late realized the train home would have been
really
late. She'd have to change at work or wear it during the day. But she did have it along, and she'd put it on. Turning to look at herself in the mirror, she was about ready to pull it off when Tina turned and said, 'Oh, now that ought to get his attention." Irene blushed.
They were in the small elevator heading for the cafeteria in the basement when Tina leaned in to her and whispered conspiratorially, "I'll bet the bulge in his pants is bigger than it was yesterday."
"Tina!" Irene exclaimed, and then giggled, feeling her nipples harden to the thought of her own implied exhibitionism.
~
For the first time Irene truly really recognized that Ryan did seem to be paying quite a bit of attention to her. She met his eyes several times, and when they'd grouped around Lori's computer to see a problem she'd encountered, he rested his hand on the small of her back. At least once she'd had to bend over for something and, realizing by doing so she was exposing her cleavage even more, lifted her hand to her neckline. As she straightened up, she saw Ryan carefully looking elsewhere, which meant he'd gotten a good look down her blouse before she put her hand there. She was immediately embarrassed, as she would never have had a problem like that with her normal work clothes, but moments later was even more embarrassed when she recognized that Ryan again had a significant bulge in his pants, and that just after she'd flashed much of her boobs at him, it was much larger than yesterday. She may have been embarrassed, but it didn't keep her from looking again when she got a chance.
An itinerary was delivered to Irene mid-morning, and after reading and thinking about it, she saved it until lunch time. "Everyone, here's what we've got. They've gotten us a mini-van and were able to find us a hotel for Friday night in Alicante. That will be about a 4-hour drive for us from here, so we can go after work. They weren't able to get the same hotel for Saturday, so we will be going on to Valencia. Benidorm is about halfway between, so if we want to take Sherry's suggestion and go to Benidorm tomorrow, that will work perfectly. Then Sunday they have the hotel booked in Barcelona and we'll be there for the week."
"Last night in Madrid!" Ryan, said to nobody in particular as they sauntered their way through the streets, back to their hotel, after dinner. "I've got a bottle of wine in my room, if you all would like to join me?"
"Good Wine or White Wine?" Irene giggled aloud, repeating the oft repeated Spanish joke.
"What?" Ryan said, not understanding the question.
"Good Wine, or White Wine? All the best wine comes from Spain; white wine comes from France."
"Ah!" he chuckled in return. "In that case, Good Wine. Will you join me?"
Ryan had asked for some extra glasses for the room in anticipation that the others might join him. One bottle was enough for everyone to have one glass, but not much more. Sipping hers, Irene hadn't gotten anywhere near the bottom of her glass when Sherry bid goodnight and left. A short time later, Lori also left, which left just Tina and Irene. Tina and Ryan were chatting, Irene opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony of the room, looking out over the noise and bustle of Madrid. Even though it was well after midnight, the sound of cars, the occasional honking of horns and muted voices of pedestrians sifted up to let her know the city was still alive. She leaned over the balcony to look down, and moments later felt a hand. Not quite on her hip, not quite on her bottom, the touch was more familiar than she would have expected. She realized it wasn't a woman's hand, which meant it could only be Ryan's. She didn't move, he didn't move his hand. She didn't need to look, she knew who it was.
"Help me finish it?" he asked, holding the wine bottle so she could see. Turning slightly, about to reject the offer, she could see there was barely any left and Ryan's glass was nearly full. She moved her glass over, and he emptied the bottle, again giving her half a glass. She hadn't heard Tina leave but now, turned so she could glance back into the room, she realized she must have. She turned back to look over the city, Ryan stepping in closely beside her.
"Pretty, isn't it?" she said aloud, her heart quickening at his proximity. If he'd been a complete stranger, she would have moved away, understanding it was an advance on his part by moving into her personal space.
"It is," he responded, his hand gently returning to the small of her back as he moved up beside her to lean over the balcony and looked down, his other arm and wine glass resting on the railing. Nervously she began to point out highlights, anything recognizable by the nighttime lights. Ryan listened, asked questions, but never moved his hand from the small of her back, if anything letting it slide a bit lower onto her bottom. She should have moved, should have stopped him, but she didn't. When she tilted her glass and finished the last mouthful, Ryan finally moved his hand from her backside, reaching to take her glass. She handed it to him, and he turned, stepping inside to put the glasses on the counter. She stepped inside behind him, only to meet him turning back to her.
"I guess I'm the last one here? Time for me to go," she said, reaching out to give him a hug and the European double cheek kiss. His hand gripped her arm, pulling her to him, and as she turned her lips to his cheek, he turned his face to hers.
There was no doubt that he fully intended the kiss. He didn't pull away, although he probably would have if she had but she didn't. His hand came up to her cheek, holding her face with his open palm, while his other was again behind her back, holding her close. His lips locked on hers and she couldn't help herself, returning the kiss with her whole body, feeling his body heat melting her own. She'd been caught by surprise at the suddenness of it, surprised as her eyes closed, surprised at how thoroughly she enjoyed him pulling her close. She could taste his mouth, taste the wine from his lips and hers; she could smell
his
smell, and she could feel the growing bulge between their bodies as his hand slid lower, this time completely gripping her bottom and pulling her against him. Her mind was simultaneously screaming "no, you're married," and "yes, I want you," with neither of them making an attempt to break the kiss. Finally, she broke away, inserting her arm between their upper bodies and pulled back slightly, not enough to pull away from him, but enough to break the kiss.
"Ryan," she said, pulling away from his lips and looking up into his eyes, and regretfully saying, "I'm married." She could feel his erection pressed against her hip where it had to be strangled inside his underwear.
"I know." His hand eased from her bottom, easing the pressure of his cock on her hip and she realized he'd been holding her against his erection as much as feeling her bottom. His hand slid up her side, her mind understanding that he was reaching for her breast. She knew she should stop him, to grab his wrist and tell him no, even though her nipples were on fire anticipating his touch. Instead she did nothing, and his hand cupped her breast, his thumb running back and forth across her nipple. An electric shock went through her clit as his thumb caressed her nipple. "I haven't been able to keep my eyes off you since we met on Monday."
"I know," she said, her hand rising to his cheek, caressing the light stubble on his chin. She turned, her arm pushing his hand and arm away from her breast and stepped for the door, knowing that if she didn't leave now, she was going to stay. She stopped at the door, turning back to look at him. The bulge in his pants was visible through her peripheral vision, she didn't have to look down to see it, just as he didn't need to drop his eyes to see the hard pebbles of her nipples accentuating her blouse. "Good night, Ryan," she said, stepping out and letting the door rapidly close behind her.
She stopped outside his door, turning to put her back against the wall.
What am I doing?
She thought to herself, recognizing that one kiss, one look, one light caress of her bottom and breast, one hard cock pressed against her belly had instantly turned her on more than her husband
ever
had by doing the same, leaving her quivering and weak kneed .
I'm married,
she thought, trying to reconcile why her nipples were aching and her panties were soaked. Her thoughts shifted to Oscar, and his constant questioning of whether she'd ever been attracted to someone else, whether she'd ever thought of touching someone else, whether she'd ever wanted someone else to touch her.
