Dentist Gets A Filling Ch 02

The next morning Marsha rises early and meets her friends for breakfast. Her oldest friend gently scolds her for disappearing the night before.

'Where did you get to last night?' she queries.

'Oh I just wanted to get an early night,' Marsha tries to cover up.

'But didn't you leave the bar with that Carl?' her friend insists.

'Oh, well yes but we just had a dance and then I left him.'

'Hmm, well I hope you did. Anyway, what are you doing today?'

Marsha explains that she wants to attend one or two of the morning sessions, but after lunch she may take a walk to the beach.

'You didn't come here to sunbathe,' her friend scolds again.

'Just a little walk, I won't be long.' Her friend isn't completely satisfied with this but Marsha manages to change the subject and they talk about other things.

The morning sessions pass slowly. There are presentations on treatment techniques and on restorative filling materials. The only one of any real interest to Marsha is a presentation on UV curing adhesives for dental veneers. This form of reconstructive procedure is becoming increasingly popular, not least because of the ridiculous American make-over programmes that people see on satellite TV.

By lunchtime Marsha is ready for her walk. As she heads out she notices the exhibitors' room and decides to have a quick look around. There are all the usual displays and vendors and Marsha is slowly browsing the stands when she spots Carl standing by his company's stand. He is sideways-on to her and so doesn't see her. Marsha hesitates and considers whether to approach or to run and hide. She doesn't know if she can face meeting him. But she tells herself not to be so foolish, she can't spend the whole time avoiding him and so she decides it's better to get it over with now. Besides, he will have to be nice to her here in front of his customers.

As Marsha approaches, Carl turns towards her and immediately their eyes meet. Almost instantly she feels herself locked into the traction beam of his gaze. It's as if he is drawing her to him.

'Hi,' he says in his deep, soft voice, 'I missed you when you left last night.'

'Yes, I'm sorry, I had to...,' but Marsha doesn't know how to finish.

'Really, it's OK. I understand.'

'You do?' Marsha is a little surprised.

'Come here,' Carl gently takes her elbow and moves her back onto the stand away from the small group of people. They are in front of a display with their backs to the room and Carl continues, 'I'm sorry if I was too forward last night. It's just, well I find you very attractive and I thought you liked me too. I'm sorry I misunderstood.

Marsha can hardly believe how gracious he is being. 'He's apologising to me!' she thinks to herself, 'It was me who ran out on him.' Out loud she reassures him that she is sorry too. It wasn't his fault. But things are a little complicated.

'I know. You don't want to be unfaithful to your husband,' Carl offers, 'I understand, and I think you are a good wife. He's a lucky man.'

Shyly Marsha admits that he's right and that she shouldn't have gone to his room with him. But then she confesses that she does like him too, and that part of her wanted to kiss him, even though she knows it's wrong.

Carl laughs gently at this and they talk for a while. Then Carl announces, 'Look, my company is hosting a private party tonight in the penthouse suite. To show there are no hard feelings I'd love for you to come.' Marsha looks unsure and Carl adds quickly, 'There will be a lot of people there, you'll be safe from any unwanted advances from me,' he smiles and Marsha is reassured.

'Yes. I'd love to come.'

'Wonderful, around nine then?'

'Nine, OK, see you then,' Marsha leaves and as she does so she looks back. Carl is watching her and he waves and smiles. Marsha thinks he really is very handsome.

Marsha spends the afternoon walking and sitting by the beach. Her thoughts keep returning to Carl, his eyes and his sensuous voice. She is definitely looking forward to being with him again tonight. And she tells herself it will be good not to have the temptation of being alone with him.

Marsha is sitting in a café on the edge of the beach. She is alone at her table but there are people all around. She smiles to herself and starts to imagine a similar scene at the party. Carl would be at her table with her. They would be talking and sitting close. Carl would be telling her how beautiful and sexy she looks. His hand would rest on her thigh. She would admit that she finds him to be very attractive and he would move his hand to her knee. She would feel the heat of his palm through the sheer nylon of her stockings. It would make her gasp a little.

Noticing her reaction Carl would ask, 'You like my touch, don't you?'

'Yes,' Marsha would reply in almost a whisper.

'You liked it when I touched you last night, didn't you?'

'Yes'

'I'm going to do it again, now, here. And you can't complain or make a fuss or all these people will know what I'm doing and they will think you are wicked.'

Carl's hand would then move up her thigh, slipping under her skirt and on up past the tops of her stockings. When his hand makes contact with the skin of her inner thigh, Marsha would start and gasp. Carl would stop and gently pinch her flesh making her whimper in pain and desire.

'Do you want me to touch your pussy?' Carl would ask.

'Yes'

'Yes, what?' Carl would insist, 'Ask me properly.'

'Please, I want you to touch my pussy.'

Carl's hand would then move along until his fingers pressed into the silky gusset of Marsha's panties. He would press the material until it creased between her labia, and the pressure would make her groan in pleasure. His fingers would then begin to massage her vulva sending little ripples of sexual pleasure surging through her body. Marsha can feel her pussy lips becoming slick with her juices. The action of Carl's fingers is making small, wet, squelching sounds, that Marsha is afraid people will hear.

'Do you want my fingers inside you?' Carl would now ask.

'Yes, please put your fingers inside me.'

'You are a bad girl, Marsha. You want me to make you cum right here with all these people around, don't you?'

'Yes, I really need it. I want you to make me cum, please,' Marsha would beg Carl to finger her to an orgasm.

Carl's fingers would find the gusset of her panties and prise it aside. Her exposed pussy lips would feel cool from the contact with air and their wetness. Immediately Carl's fingers would find their way inside and the intrusion would make Marsha gasp aloud. Soon he would be finger fucking her and she would be slowly losing control of her senses. Her arousal would take over and she would want sexual fulfilment more than anything.

'You want to be fucked, don't you?' Carl would demand. The others around could now not help but see what was going on only a few meters away.

'Yes, fuck me!' At this Carl would pick her up and push her back across the table. The drinks would be knocked to the floor and smash and splash all around. Carl would tear off her panties exposing her willing cunt and would immediately expose his iron stiff cock and start to fuck her. He would drive into her energetically and Marsha would be lost to the feelings of his powerful manhood filling her. On and on he would drive, and Marsha would cry out, oblivious to the fact that she had now become the star of a pornographic floorshow at this elegant party.

Almost without warning Carl would withdraw from her pussy and his cock would be replaced by a second, just as hard and just as long. The new man would be Carl's friend, she wouldn't know his name but that wouldn't matter, his cock and spunk were all she wanted. Carl would move to her head and offer his cock for her to suck. Almost at once another cock would appear on her other side. Now she had three cocks at her disposal.

'Would you like another drink or something to eat?' a male voice would ask.

'What? How can you ask me that now? No just fuck me,' Marsha thinks to herself. She is confused at the strangeness of this request and then suddenly her reverie is shattered. The voice is that of the waiter at the café. Marsha snaps out of her dream and looks up into his smiling face. It takes her a moment to collect her thoughts and she manages to say no and to offer payment for the coffee she has had.

Leaving the café she feels a little wobbly on her feet and she can't help thinking that the other people notice her unsteady gait and that they know too that it is caused by extreme arousal. But somehow Marsha makes it back to the hotel and to her room. It's almost five thirty and she decides to take a long, leisurely bath and then to prepare for dinner and her evening at the party.

Lying in the hot water Marsha is aware that her pussy is very sensitive. She strokes her lips with her fingers and enjoys the little tremors of pleasure this creates. It is very tempting to play with herself properly, and to enjoy an orgasm, but she decides not to do this. She wants to savour the naughty feelings of arousal and to know that she will be feeling turned-on when she is talking to complete strangers tonight at the party. Marsha loves the idea that she will be feeling aroused, even though she will be unable to do anything about it.

To reinforce this feeling, Marsha decides to dress in her favourite, sexy lavender coloured lingerie, with ultra-sheer, moka coloured stockings. She scans her reflection in the mirror and nods approvingly. She really does look amazingly sexy and Marsha thinks that it is a shame that nobody but her will get to enjoy this sight. She finishes dressing with a fitted liberty patterned dress and camel coloured heels. She twirls in front of the mirror for full effect. She is gorgeous, and the glow in her pussy makes her feel as radiant as she looks.

After a light dinner Marsha makes her way up to the penthouse suite. It only takes a few moments to find the door to the correct room and she knocks. The door is opened by a tall, heavyset man. He is handsome in a rugged kind of way, with short cropped hair, and Marsha smiles at him.

'You must be Carl's guest,' he says in a gruff but friendly tone.

'Yes,' Marsha responds girlishly.

'Come in please,' he announces, stepping aside. 'Carl, your extra guest is here,' he calls across the room.

Carl turns from the group of people he is with and crosses to Marsha. 'Good to see you,' he greets her, 'I see you've met Stefan. Don't mind him, he's our big friendly bear.'

Carl laughs at his own joke and Stefan rejoins, 'And don't mind our Carl, he thinks he is the funny man.' They both laugh now and Marsha can't resist joining in with these two affable rogues.

The party is a typical professional gathering and Carl leads Marsha around and introduces her to each little group in turn. Most are dentists and some are suppliers or distributors. Most are trying to show how important they are. But Marsha is impressed with only Carl, who seems easy and relaxed with everyone. Although this is obviously an important part of his job he is not pushy or insincere with people. Everyone seems to like him. Especially the women, Marsha notices how they smile and laugh at his jokes and flirt with him.

Amongst the crowd Carl introduces three other men who work with him and seem to be his friends. One is a bald, army looking guy with a powerful build. Another has blond curly hair and strong features, like a footballer. The third is shorter and slim, but roguishly handsome with dark hair and piercing, blue eyes. Marsha can't help but think that this group looks like a bunch of Casanova types. They are all handsome and dressed in sharp, fashionable suits, with well-groomed hair and clean, strong doctors' hands. She has often thought that is a funny expression but it sums up neatly the look of clean, manicured, strong hands that convey trust and confidence. Marsha thinks that these men appear confident and at ease, especially around the beautiful women at the party.

She finds herself in conversation with first one then another as she floats around the room enjoying the champagne, the music and the chat. This group of men are definitely the best of the crowd in the room. Marsha is already deciding that they will each have starring roles in her masturbation fantasy tonight when she is alone in bed.

Suddenly Carl is at her elbow, 'Come with me,' he urges her to follow. Obediently she follows as he leads her across the room and through an airlock style of double doors. They are in a very plush lounge with expensive furnishings. 'Wonderful, isn't it?' Carl suggests, 'But the best part is through here.'

They cross the room and pass through another set of double doors into a bedroom. But this is no ordinary bedroom. It's enormous. There are more expensive furnishings, including sofas and armchairs and cabinets. But in the centre of the far wall there is an absolutely huge bed. It is about three metres square. Marsha scans the room and her gaze finally lands on Carl's face. He his beaming at her.

'Truly incredible, no?' he announces.

'Truly incredible indeed,' Marsha agrees.

'Try it!' Carl suggests.

Marsha hands her drink to Carl and breaks into a run to the gigantic bed and leaps up, landing in the middle of it and rolling onto her back laughing. She feels girlish and silly. Maybe it's the champagne, or the feeling of sneaking into a forbidden room, but whatever it is, Marsha feels carefree and mischievous.

Carl is now standing over the bed looking down at her. 'You're gorgeous,' he compliments her. Marsha just smiles up at him. 'I can't resist you,' he continues. Then, setting the drinks aside he bends down and kisses her lightly on the forehead. When she doesn't object to this he lands little kisses all around her face. When their lips touch Marsha kisses back and Carl kisses her full on the mouth. Their lips part and their tongues slide across each other's in a warm and passionate French kiss.

Marsha loves being kissed by this beautiful man and she responds to him by clasping the back of his head and holding his mouth on hers. She is aware that this is taking a risk, but she is confident that she can stop at any time and simply return to the party. The thought that people are nearby is comforting, but at the same time it heightens the feelings of girlish mischief. Marsha submits to his kiss and squirms under him, relishing the feelings of arousal welling up within her.

As they part Carl notices that her dress has ridden up and is exposing quite a lot of her sexy legs. Marsha follows his gaze and scolds him with, 'You shouldn't be looking at me like that, you're not much of a gentleman.' But instead of covering up she playfully reaches down and takes hold of the hem of her dress and pulls it up a little more, revealing the tops of her stockings and the bare skin of her thighs.

'How can I be a gentleman when you're such a bad girl,' Carl pretends to chastise her.

'You make me bad.'

'Me? And how do I do that?'

'You're very sexy and you make me go too far.'

'Oh and what is too far? Is this too far,' with this he places his hand on her exposed leg, just above the knee.

Marsha feels the heat of his hand on her leg and whispers, 'No, that's not too far.'

Carl leans forward to kiss Marsha once more. He kisses her mouth and then kisses her neck. 'Have I gone too far now?' he whispers into her ear.

'Not yet,' Marsha answers breathlessly, 'That's nice.'

'So do I deserve to see more?'

'I suppose so. But you must promise not to touch me. And you have to sit over there,' Marsha points to an armchair.

Carl quickly moves the armchair round to face the bed, 'Is this OK?' he asks sitting.

'Hmmm hmmm,' Marsha responds sexily. She rises to her knees and starts to do a slow swaying movement. As she does this, she draws her dress up past her crotch and slowly up past her waist. Revealing her panties and suspenders. 'Do you like what you see?' she asks.

'Very much. You are very sexy, the most beautiful woman at the Convention.'

'Really. Well for that I will give you a special treat.' Marsha now reaches back to undo her dress and squirms out of it. Pulling it off over her head she kneels on the bed in only her alluring lingerie.

Carl lets out a long sigh of approval. She really does look fabulous and he can feel his cock hardening in his trousers. His heart is pounding and he dares to hope that tonight he might even get to make love to this delicious woman. Casually his right hand moves to his lap and he unselfconsciously squeezes his solid manhood.

Marsha is now moving around on the bed to give Carl a series of different views of her divine body in her pretty underwear. She notices that Carl is touching himself through his trousers and she feels a sudden bolt of electricity in her pussy. The thought occurs to her that maybe he will masturbate while watching her. Marsha has never watched a man play with himself, and the idea that she can excite Carl to do this in front of her, just by putting on a raunchy show for him, makes her feel powerful and sexy.

'Am I making you excited?' she can't resist asking.

'Very much. In fact you've made me very hard.'

'Let me see!' Marsha almost snaps. The sexual urge within her is growing by the second and now she desperately wants to see his hard cock. To know how she is affecting him. This is a new dimension to her flirtation fantasies. Marsha has never before imagined that she could take her flirting this far. That she could take a man to the height of sexual desire and then allow him to masturbate for her while she kept control and kept her distance.

Carl slowly unzips his trousers and slides them down and off. From the bed Marsha can see his boxer shorts tenting up with the hard cock inside. Carl then slides his shorts down to is thighs and Marsha gasps when she sees his cock spring out. It is very long and magnificently straight. It is also perfectly shaped and proportioned. She can't help thinking that it's the most perfect specimen she has ever seen.

'Stroke yourself!' she instructs him. She is now adapting to the role of mistress very well and she is even beginning to wonder if she can make this beautiful man cum for her.

Carl submissively clasps his hand around his long cock and starts to stroke rhythmically up and down. Marsha is staring at this erotic sight with dreamy, half-closed eyes. She is kneeling on the bed facing Carl. She has now forgotten all about giving him a show. She doesn't want to move or turn away in case she misses even one second of this incredible exhibition.

'Why don't you join me?' Carl's voice penetrates her dream-like state.

'Join you?' she is genuinely confused.

'Yes. You could play with yourself too,' Carl encourages.

Marsha hadn't thought of this but now she wonders if maybe she could dare to play this dangerous game. Could she take her teasing to that next level? Could she expose herself in that way and to do that most private thing in front of this man? Almost without realising she finds herself instructing Carl to undress completely but to stay in the chair. As he removes his remaining clothes Marsha admires his toned and muscular body. His chest is smooth and perfectly sculpted, his stomach flat with just a hint of a six-pack.

When he is completely naked he sits back down and resumes his stroking, 'It's your turn,' Carl reminds her.

Marsha lies on her side facing Carl. Her right hand strokes her thighs and traces across the front of her panties. Pausing at the waistband for just a second. Marsha makes eye contact with Carl as her hand delves past the top of her panties and down to find her hot, slippery pussy. She gasps involuntarily as her fingers press on her clit and then slide between her soft labia.

Carl's pace quickens on his cock at the sight of Marsha fingering herself. For a few minutes they each play with themselves while intently watching the other. Carl's cock seems to have grown longer and its head is now shining with silvery pre-cum leaking from its tip. Marsha is amazed at how relaxed she feels. Even though she is masturbating in front of this man she has known for barely 24 hours, she is not at all embarrassed. She even brazenly spreads her legs a little wider to allow her hand to work unimpeded. All the while she is staring either at Carl's cock or into his eyes.