© 2010
At 11:30 I knock on Roger's door. He's in casual attire, and I'm in my sweatsuit. He invites me to make myself comfortable. I go to his honor bar, and pour myself a glass of wine.
I am ready for this conference to be over tomorrow, but I sure am going to miss you."
"We have a great reason to look forward to the next one now, right?"
"You must think I was joking about that transfer."
"You'd better be," I laugh. "My fantasy is not too unlike the dream you had, and I think I want you to help me with it."
It takes him a second to connect what I'm talking about, "I'll do what I can."
"I have fantasies of being seen, but I don't want my identity on blast, you know what I mean?"
"I think so."
"That's why I couldn't do a club."
"Understandable."
"But one of the things that I liked about your dream was your friends being there with you, watching me."
"They all loved you."
"Do you think they would for real?"
"Watch you?"
"Yeah."
"How could they not?"
I took a breath, "Are they online?"
Roger sits down and sits at the desk and logs on to his instant messenger. He sends a message out that he has something to show them that they will not believe, and then we adjust the webcam so that nothing above my neck is showing when I sit down.
Five messages boxes pop-up. Roger says these are his poker buddies. I ask if I can type to them, and let them know that I have a fantasy of being exposed that Roger is going to help me with. None of them believe that I am not Roger pulling their leg. When the cam is turned on, they see Roger at first. I take off my sweatsuit; I have on a white wifebeater and boyshorts underneath. I then go and sit on his lap -- and they go nuts.
As Roger's hands rubbed my legs. I let them know that they can take requests, within reason, but for the most part I wanted them to enjoy the show Roger was going to give them. With that, Roger got up so I could sit in the chair. He stood behind me rubbing my shoulders, causing my breathing to get heavier with anticipation. Each of my audience members makes a comment about the way my chest is heaving, exciting me all the more -- my hard nipples straining against the cotton of the tank top.
Roger asks how I am doing, then he takes the glass of he was drinking from off the desk. I think he is taking a drink, but I see him hold the glass over my shoulder and pour some onto my breasts. The cool sensation gives me a chill, causing my nipples to draw tight, and the liquid immediately soaks the area around my nipples. My audience loves that!
Roger rubs my shoulders a little longer, as the calls for my shirt to come off get stronger. Roger is laughing at their eagerness, and I tell them how much he is enjoying their torture. "Are you ready?"
I smile, "Pour more water on my top."
He laughs, "You're bad." Roger takes the glass of water and asks me lean my head back. He kisses it, and licks it with his tongue.
"Ohhh yesss!"
Roger begins to pour the water right next to his tongue. The water begins to slowly trickle down my neck. My tank top begins to soak it up, and clings. He moves the glass lower and pours water right over my right breast. My tank is transparent at this point.
I look at the screen, and the guys are clued to their screens.
Roger then moves the glass over to my left breast, and soaks it too.
"He's gonna fucking kills us!" one guy types
Roger and I both laugh. He puts the glass down and runs his hands from my neck, across my shoulders, down to grab my breasts. He cups and gently squeezes them, only to perk my nipples up higher -- and harder. He moves his hands down to the bottom of my tank and starts lifting. I watch as my breasts come into full view on the screen. The messages start flying in. I raise my arms for Roger to left my tank off, then answer the most frequent question -- 36C.
They also ask how I am feeling, sitting there topless, and I try to describe how being on display for them is making me feel. "I love having his hands on me, and having your eyes on me. It's very exciting."
"Is your pussy wet?"
"Oh yes," I respond.
"Let us see."
I look over my shoulder to Roger, and then covey his message of, "Later."
He keeps feeling my breasts; I lean my head back at how good it feels. Roger takes that as an invitation to kiss my neck. I jump at first, but then reach up to pull him closer. As he kisses, he grips my breasts tight. "Squeeze it, baby," I say through the kiss.
Roger broke the kiss, and kneels behind the chair. With a hand on each breast, he rubbed and squeezed them intensely. I try to type more responses, but it is hard to concentrate enough to respond quickly. His grip is turning me more on.
He sees the smile on my face, "You like that, huh?"
"Yesssssss."
Roger gently rubs on my nipples; brushing over them to see how perky they are. Each time, they spring back. All the guys smile at the sight. Roger turns the chair to the side, and angles the camera so they can see him suck my nipples.
The guys cannot believe what they are seeing.
I try to read all the messages, but give up when the feeling gets too good. I lean back, and let his lips and tongue please my nipples. He moves back and forth, not leaving one unattended for long. Every once in a while he tugs on one, but mostly he licks and sucks me to the edge of an orgasm.
Roger starts talking as he licks, "All of them, right now, are sitting on the edge of their seats watching you. All of them with erections, and their hands in their pants -- if they have on pants. They are all gently rubbing themselves as they see your lovely, wet, topless body.
I laugh a little at him saying they didn't have pants on.
"What's funny?"
"Do men really sit at the computer without pants on?"
"When looking at someone like you they do."
I laugh again.
He turns to the laptop and tells the guys to show me how sexy I am.
All of them lower their cams to show erection.
I'm shocked that none of them have pants on, and are all very erect. "That's for me?"
"All for you," Roger goes back to my nipples. I look at the guys stroking as Roger sucks me over the edge of that orgasm. I smash his head into my chest as my body has a series of small convulsions.
When I calm down, I notice the guys still stroking. There are requests to see my pussy; demands and pleads, actually. Roger stands in front of the camera, and I remove my boyshorts and position myself so that my legs are over the sides of the chair. He lowers the camera, and steps aside. The guys see me rubbing my pussy. Roger kneels behind the chair to play with my nipples and nibble my ear -- increasing my sensations.
For a few minutes I run my hand back and forth along my pussy, letting my palm graze my clit. I slip my two middle fingers inside, then slide them around my clit. I do it two more times, then give into the requests to spread my lips. I know this isn't the proper thing for a Black, married, business woman to do, but all the attention is making me feel so good right now. Roger's strong hands all over my body, and the eyes of these strangers enjoying me, just feel so damn good -- and I go with it. I put my hands between my legs, and open my pussy.
One guy closes his eyes and shakes. Another one licks his cam. Another types, "Roger, you'd better fuck the hell out of that beautiful pussy!" And the last one adds, "Pump it a few times for me!"
I laugh, but turn my attention back to rubbing. I hold my lips open and rub my clit with just my index fingertip.
"It's a shame you didn't bring a toy with you," he breathes in my ear while taking a big squeeze of my titties.
"Guess that means there'll have to be a next time," I press my titties into his hands.
"Put your fingers in her, Roger!" one guy demands.
