Five minutes later, both emerged from the closet, Misty's hair disheveled, and a smile on her face. Ingwaz followed, wearing a new suit of skintight white leather, admiring her beautiful form, presently encased in a form-fitting black satin gown, with a low neckline and a high slit up her thigh. She looked over her shoulder, and shook her head. "No, no - I will not ruin another dress. You will just have to live with your lust for a little while." She grinned despite herself at his smile. "Now, fly me to the hall, and don't get me dirty."
The crowded hall silenced itself at the sound of a silver fork rapping on a fluted crystal champagne glass. "We are here tonight to thank the Aensland family, and especially Misty, for giving one million gold for the construction of the new library, as well as her husband's assistance in helping us build it in record time." Cheers went up as Ingwaz and Misty stood and bowed. The room fell silent once more as they seated themselves again. "And now, to quote the famous Mange Aensland... dig in!" The crowd cheered again as food was served, and the sounds of conversations filled the air.
Misty was sitting on the edge of her seat, talking animatedly to another contributor to the cause, and barely noticed Ingwaz dropping his fork. She saw him sit back up, but did not notice that there wasn't something right about him. She did not notice the hem of her dress being lifted, didn't notice the form beneath the banquet table, until she felt a warm, wet tongue flick against her warm, moist nether lips. She gasped softly, her eyes sliding out of focus for a moment, before she recovered her composure. She kept talking, though now a note of urgency in her voice as her hands grasped his head, trying to push him away. He only redoubled his efforts, his lips now pressed against her sex, his hands holding her thighs. She was breathing heavily now, her face flushed, and she took a long draught of cold water to try to regain her composure. His ministrations grew more intense, and she started trembling, wanting more, until she climaxed. She bit her lip, drawing blood, as her nectar flowed over his lips like a fine wine, and he drank deeply, relishing every drop. He resurfaced moments later, blending with his illusion, dabbing his lips with a napkin. She looked at him evily, and his look of mock suprise melted her frown away.
“I couldn’t wait for desert,” Ing said with a grin. “I thought a nice peach, with it’s own cream, would realy hit the spot... and I was right, I feel wonderful.” He took a bite of a superbly well-cooked steak, and nearly bit through the fork at the next sensations that passed through his body. He felt soft caresses on his thighs, and the leather of his trousers parted and slid away, freeing his hardened member from it’s prison. She lovingly stroked it a while, it’s steely hardness pleasing to her touch, before kissing it gently. Just then, much to Ingwaz’s chagrin and Misty’s delight, the chairman asked for a speech from Ing. He remained seated, and began speaking. What he was saying, Misty could not tell, but the tremulous undercurrent in his voice told her she was doing her job right. He continued speaking, noticing the little jumps in his voice when she nibbled on his hardness. Just as he finished, she decided to end it. With a small tentacle, she slipped underneath his pants and plunged it straight into his rear. With a soft cry, and an involuntary bucking of his hips, he climaxed, emptying himself into her mouth. She sucked it down greedily, and surfaced a minute later, a telltale droplet of cum on her chin. She got up, excused herself, and he followed her moments later, politely excusing himself, and together they flew back to the mansion.
