This is the second story in the saga about my long and wild affair with my co-worker Jennifer. Thanks go to Sinfully Hevanly who edited it and offered critical comments. Your feedback is most appreciated.
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Jennifer opened the door to her hotel room. She looked like she was almost ready to go to the office. She had on a lovely royal blue blouse and a snug, but not too snug, black skirt that came to a couple of inches above the top of her knees. No shoes yet, but fiddling with her earrings.
"Hi Jennifer, you look nice," I said, taking in her beautiful curves and nicely done hair.
"Hi there, I'll just be a few more minutes," she said as I walked in and closed the door. She had on a lovely perfume that I picked up after I closed the door. The aroma, which lingered in the air, was heady and intoxicating.
"I asked the front desk to send up some coffee and tea," I said.
"But we don't have time, Dave," she said.
I let her comment linger and decided to not say anything. I made myself comfortable in a lounge chair and checked email messages on my phone while she put on her make-up in the bathroom. Soon there was a knock at the door and I told Jennifer I'd get it.
I had put her up in a suite in a downtown hotel that had recently opened. The hotel was just a few minutes from my office building and wasn't too pricy. Formerly a turn of the century office building, the rooms were spacious and nicely decorated in retro art deco. The suite included a separate bedroom, bathroom, and sitting area furnished with a desk, loveseat, lounge chair, a sideboard with a stocked fridge, and a couple of tables. Tastefully decorated but not over the top.
Jennifer and I work for the same company, but in different offices. We had hooked up during the annual company meeting the previous fall. We had chatted on the phone quite a bit since then, which helped us continue developing our relationship. She is the company librarian and an information management specialist, and I am a client service manager that handles several hi-tech companies. I had asked her to come to my office for a week to help me organize literally hundreds of documents for a current project for a very large client. At work, Jennifer is efficient, business-like, and not overly chatty. She is really good at what she does.
I tipped the fellow from room service and laid the tray on the sideboard next to the loveseat. The tray held pots of coffee and hot water, a nice assortment of teas, a small pot of cream, and several sweeteners. Since I had forgotten to ask for ice, I grabbed the bucket, propped open her door a bit, and quickly found the ice machine.
Upon returning to the room, I poured myself a cup of coffee and went into the bathroom, stood over Jennifer's shoulder, and watched her work on finishing up her eyes and painting her lips. Her scent was intoxicating. I found the whole make-up thing intriguing, and arousing -- the way she did her eyes to accentuate the hazel color, evening out her complexion but not concealing it, the color to the brows, the paint on the lips.
"The coffee is good. Do you want a cup?" I offered.
"We don't have time. It's after eight and we need to get to the office," she replied, slightly irritated.
"Why the rush?" I asked innocently. "No one knows you're coming to the office and I more or less set my own schedule," I said.
She gave me a long knowing look in the mirror and then resumed her work.
I set my coffee cup down on the vanity and wrapped my arms around her from behind. I felt her flinch a bit.
"Dave, no," she said, squirming. "We need to get to the office. You're going to wrinkle my blouse," she gently snapped at me.
Her perfume and the scent of her hair made me dizzy. I placed my hands on her breasts and gently kneaded them. Inhaling deeply, I pressed myself into her backside.
"Dave, don't. Quit it. Please," she said as she tried to squirm out of my embrace.
Her plea hung in the air as I leaned into her and kissed and nuzzled her neck. I tugged on her earlobe with my teeth and I could feel her nipples harden. She was trying not to, but I could feel her body betraying her and giving way to my advances as I gently blew into her ear and whispered how attractive she was and how the skirt showed off her beautiful behind.
"Dave, please don't," she said softly as she put down the brush. "Oh, God," she whispered as she leaned back into me and held me.
In the mirror I saw her close her eyes and lower her head a bit. I felt her shoulders relax into my advances.
She was melting into my arms. I turned her around, bent my head down, and kissed her gorgeous painted lips. I held the gentle kiss, tangling one hand in her hair. Electricity sparked, our lips parted, and our tongues tangled gently as she wrapped her arms around my neck. One of my hands slipped to the top of her skirt and I started tugging her blouse out of her skirt.
"My clothes. They're going to get wrinkled," she murmured between kisses.
I eased back a little and starting with the top button, began unbuttoning her blouse. Her eyes were closed and her head hung down a little bit. After undoing the last button, I told her to turn around and look in the mirror. Watching her watch me, I slid her blouse off and laid it on the toilet seat. She was flush as her breathing became shallow and her nipples hardened.
Goose bumps raised her skin as I gently slid my nails up and down her back, watching the trails take on a rosy hue. I took her shoulders in my strong hands and then gently kneaded them as I kissed gently all over her upper back and upper arms, taking in the scent of her hair.
"Move your hair to the side," I breathed into her ear.
She pulled her shimmering hair over her left shoulder. I continued kissing her -- feeling her gently shiver, listening to her soft moans -- then moved up to her neck, kissing and biting gently, running my tongue behind her ear and kissing her ear.
"Oh, Dave," she moaned softly. "Keep kissing me ... don't stop."
I moved to her ear and whispered, "It's nice to be with my dirty girl again. I can't tell you how much I've missed you." Sliding my hands down and reaching around her, I unclasped her bra, took her breasts in my hands, and gently massaged them as I blew gently into her ear and kissed her. I could feel her grinding her ass into me. As I kissed her neck I watched her in the mirror, holding her breasts, gently rolling her hard nipples, hearing her gently moaning and gasping as I tugged and rolled them a little more firmly. She opened her eyes, looking at me, and I could see lust filling them up.
"Why don't you go sit down while I get out of my skirt," she said huskily.
I walked over to the armchair and sat down, flush with excitement and anticipation, my cock straining at my trousers, wondering what was to come. I watched her toss her bra onto the bed and, with her back to me, she slid the zipper of her skirt down, turned her head and looked at me, then stepped out of her skirt, and laid it on the bed. Her gorgeous heart-shaped ass was as beautiful as I remembered from last fall at the annual meeting.
Our hook-up at the company meeting was one of the most erotic times of my life, if not the most erotic. I had come to learn the type of women that I like—the type that fill me with lust and determination and make my heart beat with passion and urgency. And Jennifer was one such woman. She was my muse.
She turned to face me and asked, "Is this what you want?" as she slid her panties down and stepped out of them. She held them in one hand as silence overtook us, watching me as I took in her radiance. Each and every nerve in my body was overwhelmed by lust. I was transfixed by her and singularly focused on her sensuousness. She stood there, looking into my eyes, wearing nothing but a soft smile and gently stroking her chest with her fingers.
