Doug and Paige worked in the same industry, for two different companies, not really competitors, for the first was a small business, and the second was one of the largest companies in the field. They met at what Doug anticipated to be a mundane briefing. Little did he know that Paige had already scouted him out, and before the first chart had graced the screen she ambushed him with an introduction by a mutual friend serving as her partner in crime that afternoon. A beaming smile, a curvy figure nicely packaged in fashionable business clothes, and mid-back length rich brown hair with a touch of a perm sealed the deal. A whirlwind romance later, they became Mr. and Mrs.
Seven years later, they were mutually rewarded by their firms with an all expenses paid trip to one of the most important trade conventions in their industry. After seven years, they had long since exhausted every conceivable sexual variation, and their romantic life was showing signs of stagnation. They had discussed a variety of adventurous exploration, but neither of them were quite brave enough to engage in anything stronger than friendly flirting. Thus, they welcomed the opportunity to spend a long weekend in a paid suite in a top star hotel without the stresses and distractions of the daily grind. Doug had been working out harder and more regularly in anticipation of the trip, and Paige spent the better part of a day visiting various lingerie boutiques at their hometown.
The first night of the conference they received a joint invitation to an elite reception, at an exclusive club across town from the conference center. They had a rental car, but decided to take a taxi so that they could both relax without being worried about a DUI. Paige wore a new bright green tightly tailored sleeveless cocktail dress with a daringly low back and button front, that highlighted her eyes perfectly, with matching black seamed stockings and green heels. She looked simply stunning, and Doug couldn't stop complimenting her. The reception was strictly a social event, held at a private club decorated to resemble an English Gentleman's Club, complete with wooden paneling, leather seating, low-level lighting to resemble historic gas or candle light, and even a butler and servants. It was a wonderful evening, and both of them drank more than the single evening's drink that they normally indulged in.
After a couple of hours, they found themselves sharing a table with a gentleman, and two ladies. The man was a ruggedly handsome attorney of indeterminate age by the name of Daniel Wilson, with an imposing presence. His wife was also Paige, but she was blonde rather than brunette, and absolutely stunning. Paige Wilson was in her mid-thirties, 5'7", well rounded where she should be well rounded, slender and sleek where she should be slender and sleek. Her legs were long and shapely, her hips perfectly shape, her ass high and tight. Her hair was so blonde as to be almost platinum, and she wore it slightly curved and thick barely to her shoulders. Paige was the type of woman who stopped men in their tracks. Paige and Doug were not surprised when they learned that this Paige had once modeled in Playboy.
Their female friend was somewhat of a mystery, whether a lover, friend, or sister was anybody's guess. Jennifer was a stunningly hot younger redhead, younger than the first Mrs. Paige, with a long tangled mane that reached almost to her ass. She was small and petite but nicely packaged, large breasts, slender waist, tight firm ass. Her fishnet stocking clad legs were strong and athletic. It was casually revealed that she had also modeled for a number of prominent magazines, and neither Doug or Paige were surprised. Her spectacular flesh was adorned with a number of bright tattoos, clearly executed by an accomplished artist. One of her entire arms was decorated, with the tattoos vanishing beneath the sleeve and back of her black dress.
Paige whispered to Doug, "How far do those tattoos go?"
Doug responded, "I don't know but I'd like to find out!"
They squeezed each other's hands.
The five of them spent the remainder of the evening together. All five were well-traveled, highly-educated, intelligent, and soon became familiar and comfortable with each other. Paige and Doug both felt relaxed, with their inhibitions loosened. Lots of sexual innuendo was being passed around the table. When a dance band started to play a set, Jennifer and Paige Wilson both practically dragged Doug onto the floor.
Paige looked at Daniel hopefully, but he apparently had other plans, for he rather pulled his chair up, perilously close to hers.
He smiled at her, staring into her eyes, "I thought this would give us a chance to talk privately."
She didn't notice that his left arm smoothly slid underneath the table, into the darkness behind the table cloth.
Daniel continued the conversation, "You're a stunningly beautiful woman, Paige. How long have you been married?"
Paige cocked her head to the side in a trademark gesture, twirling her hair in her finger, "Seven years, why?"
Daniel placed his right hand lightly yet sensuously against her cheek, "I'm guessing, from your earlier comments, that you're suffering from the seven-year itch, am I right, dear Paige?"
At the same instant, Daniel's left hand closed upon Paige's lower thigh, just above her knee, barely touching the hem of her dress. Paige jumped, just a bit, and her body quivered. She felt like she had just received an electrical shock.
Paige and Doug had talked about doing something like this to spice up their sexual life. Paige wasn't drunk, but she had imbibed enough wine to weaken her resistance. In fact, she was quite horny. Mr. Wilson was extremely handsome, and his hand felt really good on her leg. She decided to take the plunge. She remained very still, letting him have his way with her.
He moved his chair slightly closer to her, all the while moving his hand cautiously up her leg, massaging her silk-clad muscles, taking his time. He enjoyed witnessing Paige's face and upper chest flush. He dropped his right hand from Paige's cheek, stroking it down her neck, to her bare shoulder, then down her arm. The lovely young brunette stayed completely still, making no move to resist his seduction. He could feel her trembling beneath him.
He grinned at her, leaned closely forward, barely kissed her on the tip of her nose, and breathed into her ear, "Do you like what my hand is doing?"
Paige gasped, more desperately than she intended, "Oh, yes."
He stared into her eyes, and she was mesmerized, simply incapable of breaking his gaze. He commanded, "Tell me what you are feeling, Paige."
Her voice quivered, "My heart is pounding, my pulse is racing. I should tell you to stop."
Daniel chuckled, "But you're not, are you?"
