How to Have an Affair

After a day of tiring lectures and tedious slides, I was bored, on my way to getting tipsy and antsy—antsy for something exciting to happen. As I studied the people at the milling around at the reception, though, I was pretty sure that

boredom

was the only item on the entertainment menu that night. I became increasingly convinced that the reason most people attended conferences was for the free finger food and liquor they would get on the first night. This reception crowd was taking maximum advantage of the appetizer tables, stuffing handfuls of salty, fatty little morsels into their mouths and washing them down with gulps of box wine Chardonnay.

Because I was in a playful mood, decided to wear a cute navy blue miniskirt and simple white silk blouse to the evening reception.

Not alluring

, you say? Well, consider the fact that I have large, dark nipples and consider also that a bra was

not

part of my outfit. This outfit was sure to attract a roving eye.

When the reception started, all I wanted was for someone to flirt with me, some poor guy I could make sweat by teasing him. Maybe I would let some crumbs fall on my blouse, I thought, so that when I brushed them away my breasts would jiggle. Of course, my nipples, just from being touched, would stiffen as well. In my imagination I saw some trembling man with a thinning hair line trying to make conversation with me and, when I flirted seriously with him, falling into a state of panic and scurrying away. I sighed when I realized that, after analyzing the crowd at the reception, the probability of an adventurous evening was quite miniscule. The people packing the reception room were mostly in the fifty to sixty range, mostly pale white, generally overweight and interested more in real candy than eye candy.

Convinced that my little head game was not going to happen, I peered over the rim of my wine glass looking someone-

anyone

- who might stand out from the grazing herd. Coincidentally, when I saw that person, he saw

me

. He smiled-

smirked

, actually-and headed straight toward me. I could tell by his gait that he was cocky and a tad obnoxious, a know-it-all guy who would undoubtedly find someone to have sex with that night. I decided that, if I wanted it to be,

I

would be that person. I wasn't sure at that point that I wanted to have sex, but I left the possibility open. It all depended on how he handled himself.

"I'm not even going to make an attempt at a pickup line," he said. "I'll just tell you what you know already—you're incredibly gorgeous."

I flinched at his clichéd clumsiness, but I smiled, took his hand and glanced at his wedding ring. "I see you're married," I said. "Does your wife know that you say those kinds of things to complete strangers?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm married. And, no, my wife doesn't know. By the rings on your finger, I'd say that you are, too. Married, that is. Does your husband know that you...um...display your wares so magnificently at these conferences?"

I raised an eyebrow as though I didn't understand his comment. "My," I asked, "my

wares

?"

Ah ha! I sensed the first inkling of nervousness in him. "Your body," he said. "Your outfit...um...your slenderness is ideally suited for the type of outfit you're wearing."

My

slenderness

. Who was he kidding? But, I played along. I took a slow sip of my wine, letting the glass linger on my lips before I answered him. "Yes," I said. "My husband knows how I dress and it turns him on to know I turn other men on. Does it turn you on to know that your wife turns other men on?"

"I don't remember mentioning my wife," he said. "But...um...she would not look as good as you do in an outfit like yours. I guess it's just my good luck that you husband...um...appreciates your...um...

packaging

," he said.

I laughed. Whatever nervousness he had felt seemed to be fading and it seemed that he knew the rules of the game-flirt, don't push and don't become desperate. I smiled and held out my hand. "I'm Casey." No point in giving him my real name.

He took my hand in his and held it for a few seconds while he stared into my eyes, undoubtedly trying to see if I would blink. Then he tightened his fingers around it and shook it, the warmth of his body flowing into mine. "I'm Tyler," he said. "I like that fact that you're braless under your camisole. It shows confidence."

I was pleased that he noticed my little

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. I didn't really have to entice him any more than he had been, but I fluttered my eyes a bit for effect. "You think I'm braless? What makes you say that? Even if I was, my boobs are so small that not even if you stared..."

"I have a trained eye," he said. "And the fact that you're Asian provides a bit of a...how do I say...visual advantage. "

A tingle ran through my body-the game was definitely on. I finished my wine and flicked my hair over my shoulders. "Hmmm," I murmured. "Why don't we take a walk outside on the patio and discuss my

visual advantages

in more detail?"

At this point, Tyler was completely under my control. When I turned to leave the reception area, he followed close behind. As we strolled toward a dark corner of the patio overlooking a golf course, I asked, "Can your trained eye tell if I'm wearing any undies?"

By his hesitant response, I sensed his nervousness returning. Excellent! Whatever was going to happen from that point on was totally up to me. "Um...no," he stammered. "Are you?"

I stopped walking, turned to face him and, in a deep, throaty voice, asked, "Why don't you find out?"

Tyler swallowed hard and gulped, "Here?"

I let my lips curl into a sneer, albeit a cute, come-hither sneer. "Yes. Here. Or are you...

chicken

?" I took a few steps away from him, leaned against a wide limestone column, started to slowly raise the hem of my miniskirt and hissed, "I asked...are you

chicken

?"

Tyler was on me in a second. He crushed his body on mine, pinning me against the column. He pressed his lips on mine, drove his tongue into my mouth and slid his hand up my dress. The touch of his fingers on my thighs made me shudder, and the heat he created went straight to my pussy. He paused for a second, uncertain about what to do, before he slipped two, and then three fingers into me.

"Fuck," he whispered. "You're

soaked

."

He was right! My boiling hot juices, freed by his penetrating fingers, literally flowed down my thighs. "Yeah," I said. With one hand I pulled his head to my mouth again and with the other unzipped his pants. I reached inside and grabbed his cock, pleased to discover that, unlike many guys would have been, he wasn't intimidated by the situation—he was as hard as a rock. "Why don't you feel my tits," I whispered. "Why don't you feel my

hard

, small tits. Squeeze my aching..."

I never finished my sentence. Tyler rammed his tongue into my mouth and, gasping for air, yanked my blouse out of my skirt and slid his hand under my camisole. He grabbed my breasts, kneading them, squeezing them, pinching my nipples, sending ripples of voracious lust pulsing through my body. The harder he mauled my nipples, the faster I stroked his cock.

I knew that if I didn't redirect him, he'd be spilling his cum all over the patio and probably all over me. "Why don't you feel my ass?" God how I wanted to feel the cool night air on my butt along with his hot, sweaty hands.

Like an animal, Tyler ripped his hand out from under my blouse, lifted my skirt over my hips and grabbed my butt with both his hands. In the distance I heard woman gasp. I had to control my urge to laugh when I heard mumbled, garbled words reaching my ears, words indicating disapproval. "Put your finger in my ass," I whispered.

I could tell that Tyler, despite his self-assuredness, was on the verge of passing out. He gulped, "My God!"

"

Do it

."

Tyler spread my ass cheeks as best he could given our position and eased the tip of his finger into my tight hole. It is, after all, difficult to effectively penetrate that space when you are both standing up, so I helped him by wrapping one thigh around his waist, opening myself up to his probing digit. From his trembling, I could tell that the heat from my body traveled right up his finger straight to his head, and then straight from his head to down to his cock.

"Why don't you eat my pussy?"

His upper lip trembled when he muttered, "Here?"

God! That question again! "Haven't you ever eaten a woman's pussy while she's standing up?"

I had to control my urge to snort with derision when he blurted, "Of course."

"Well, then," I said. "Do it and, when you do, keep your finger in my ass."

He inhaled to build up some courage and dropped to his knees. When his tongue tickled my clit, I moaned and rocked my hips, lifting my skirt to my waist. I prayed that someone would turn the corner and see us, and my prayers were answered. Two minutes into my tongue lashing I heard a male voice gulp, "Holy shit." Seconds later I heard the sounds of high heels clacking as some couple scurried away from us.

"You feel so good, Tyler," I said. "Let me return the favor. Let me suck your cock."

Tyler, holding onto the column, pulled himself to his feet, his glazed-over eyes staring into mine. I dropped to my knees, inhaled his cock and moved my head up and down as fast and hard as I could. Again I hoped that we would be seen and again my wish was granted-twice! When Tyler grabbed the back of my head, I knew it was time to stop.

"What...what are you doing," he groaned.

I smashed my lips against his and growled, "Wouldn't you rather fuck me?"

"Your room or mine," he moaned.

"Mine," I said.

Duh!

I had to remain in control and that meant

my

room, not his.

We took a second to adjust our clothes before riding the elevator to my floor, bouncing from elevator wall to elevator wall on the short trip as we groped each other. Crashing into my hotel room we tore off our clothes in a mad, lust-fueled frenzy. Tyler flung his body on the bed and I flung myself on top of him, ramming my body down on his stiff prick, rocking back and forth. As much as I wanted to hold off, I came in less than a minute, screaming

yes yes

as my orgasm ripped through me. Tyler was close behind me, a couple of loud

mmmphs

emanating from his mouth when he shot his cum into me.

I leaned back to let his hands roam over my breasts while I did a slow motion roundabout hip roll on his cock. I leaned over, dragged my breasts over his mouth and whispered, "Suck on m y tits."

He was a good, obedient boy. He alternately sucked one, then the other, breasts into his mouth, spreading his saliva over them and letting my nipples slip through his fingers. I felt another orgasm building, grabbing at my vagina like a vice. I leaned back to flatten my breasts, focusing his attention on my nipples which, by now, were pointed straight into the air. I used his cock like a dildo, rocking my hips faster and faster until I felt his hot stream burst into me. The vice on my pussy tightened harder and harder until my orgasm caused me to scream in ecstasy.

I fell onto the bed, gulping for air. Tyler tried to lie on top of me, but I pushed him away.

"That was fun," I said. "You can go now."

Tyler sat up and laughed. With his half-limp cock dangling in front of him, he said, "Are you kidding?"

"No," I said. "I'm not kidding. And if you don't leave now, I'll start screaming."

"You're crazy," Tyler said. He scrambled to pull on his clothes and said, "You're a fucking crazy

bitch

."

"Yeah," I said. "I know. Good bye."

I lay in bed letting the aftereffects of my orgasms ripple through my body. After a while, I reached into my purse for my cell phone and tapped in a few numbers.

"Hi," I said. "The conference is okay. Kinda boring. Yeah. I miss you, too. Love ya'." I ended the call and let my fingers ease in and out of my pussy. I glanced at the bedside clock and realized that the reception was far from over. I pulled on my skirt and blouse, letting my panties and camisole lay where they had fallen. It was time for round two and they'd only be in the way, right?

Right!