My name is Easton. No, I don't know what my parents were thinking, so don't ask. You may have read some of my other Inn Club stories, and while this one doesn't take place at an Inn, we were both members even if we hadn't hooked up before. And while I've had some wild Club stories, I'd be hard pressed to come up with anything as strange as what happened during a recent trip with one of my co-workers.
On this occasion a few people from each of the company's many business areas were invited to a group training session. Two people from my area were selected: myself and a woman from contracts, Aimee. As a coworker I would say Aimee is very competent in her line of work, but she can be opinionated and is really quite the pain in the ass. As a man I have to say she is almost comically sexy. And by comically I mean devastatingly good looking. One of the best looking women I have ever met, with a body that is somewhere off the chart to the right. Unfortunately, as a coworker, I had to ignore the great looks and deal with the pain in the ass. What made the situation even worse for me is that while we both knew the other was a member of the Inn Club, we both also knew I was never going to fuck her.
The session was initially slated to take place in Las Vegas, but someone balked at the idea of claiming to do business in Vegas. Oddly, when I proposed the National Harbor Conference Center it seemed no one realized, or cared that the venue was co-located with the MGM Casino. Accomplishing that feat would normally be strange enough for one trip, but it turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg.
Aimee and I were on the same flight into Reagan National and had agreed to using one taxi. I was fine with the arrangement, though it did mean sitting with Aimee for the short ride. Biology is a funny thing...the stunning woman next to you has the expected effect almost regardless of what your brain is trying to say. Still, I was really turned on by her presence and wondered fancifully if we might have an Inn Club kind of evening.
After checking in we agreed to meet for breakfast at seven so we didn't have to eat alone before the event began. "What about dinner tonight?" I asked, a bit too hopefully.
"Plans," she said as she turned and headed toward the elevators. I shrugged as I watched her fine ass walk away. So, nothing changed.
After dinner and a stroll around the property, I did my chores (like ironing my shirts), went to bed early, and got a full night's sleep.
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At 7am I was down in the restaurant with my breakfast on the table and looking around for Aimee. Knowing her to be punctual, I was surprised when she didn't show up until ten minutes later. Walking into the restaurant she was as beautiful as ever in a blue jacket, blue skirt and a frilly white top. She spotted me, nodded, then started to serve herself before deciding to drop her bag with me at the table. As she did so I was able to observe her a little closer (always pleasant with no conversation) and thought she looked a bit disheveled. Anyone who did not know her would not have noticed, but her hair was not perfect, her eyes were slightly tired, and her movements were not as precise as I'd typically seen.
When she returned to the table a few minutes later, her plate was quite literally piled high with potatoes, eggs, bacon and sausage. This was at odds with my memory of past events, but then again how was I to know what she ate before joining the group breakfast. Trying to hide my amusement with her ravenous morning appetite, I checked email.
"What do you think of them holding this session at the MGM?" I asked when she was washing down a mouthful with some water.
She looked at me a little vacantly, then shrugged, and belched loudly before shoveling another spoonful into her mouth. I'm pretty sure I gawked at this as Aimee is typically nothing but professional and proper around business associates.
Keeping track of the time, as she cleared the last of her plate I suggested we leave so as to arrive a couple minutes early. Continuing to remain silent, she simply nodded, dabbed her mouth with her napkin, reapplied some lipstick, and nodded again. Strangely, as she stood facing in my direction, she adjusted her breasts in her bra and tweaked her nipples, which were at once standing proud and visibly on display even through the material of her dress. Shaking my head in amusement and confusion, I ignored the urge to adjust my dick and followed her out of the dining room as we made our way toward the conference room for the session.
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After a brief introduction by the facilitators, the session started as all things do: go around the room, give us a very short intro of who you are, where you are from, and something people typically don't know about you.
As you might expect, this was equal parts banal yet mildly interesting. I expected Aimee to say something like, 'I'm Aimee from upstate New York and I run 40 miles a week.' But instead, she stood slowly and said in a very labored voice, "Aimee, New York," and then she sat down. And now, just an hour since I saw her sit down to eat, she was flushed and appeared quite distracted.
Over the next two hours our group worked through a number of scenarios, with Aimee contributing little more than nods, head shakes, and occasional one word comments. She was totally out of character, and now her behavior tugged at my awareness to distraction. I'd never seen the like. While she may be a pain in the ass, it is partly because she is so critically insightful and quick witted. Today it seemed like she was hungover, which would have been a reasonable conclusion except for the insane amount of chow she put down at breakfast. Still, as our early lunch break approached she seemed unable or unwilling to contribute and seemed uninterested in what we were doing.
During our first break I visited the restroom and then checked email in the hallway where reception was better. I was startled by someone touching my shoulder. I jumped, but the hand remained. A feminine, husky voice said in starts, "I'm feeling, off. Check on me later, please?" And turning I saw Aimee looking as confused and distraught as anyone ever. She pressed something into my hand and departed at a quick pace. She had given me a key card as well as a slip of paper that listed her room number. Watching her leave, I wondered if she remembered what room she was in.
After finishing for the day I went for a run and then showered in preparation for the mixer that evening. I figured I would meet up again there with Aimee as she never missed those events. But thirty minutes into it there was no sign of her. Given how out of character she had been all day, I was a little concerned. I made a head call and then nonchalantly departed the party and headed up to her room.
I arrived at the door and knocked, "Aimee?" I called out. There was no reply. I repeated my actions, with the same results. Now I used the key card and slowly pushed the door open. Fortunately the security locks were not engaged and I entered the room. Two things hit me right away. The most obvious was the smell of sex. The room positively reeked, though in a good way. The second were the sounds: moaning accompanied by a low hum. "Aimee?" I called out, and again got no reply. Closing the door behind me I walked further into the room and peeked around the divider wall. There was a lot to take in.
Lying in the middle of the bed was a very nude Aimee. On her back with her legs spread, she provided me with an excellent view of her pussy, which was very wet as evidenced by the large dildo she was intermittently thrusting into herself. With her other hand she held a wand vibrator against her clit. Her whole body was flushed, her nipples solid points atop truly glorious breasts; her eyes squeezed shut. Her breathing was labored and it looked like she had been crying all afternoon, which did not agree with the rest of the scene. Now sporting a raging hardon, I walked forward and touched her foot. "Aimee?"
Her eyes blinked open and she slowly focused on me, "E, Easton?"
"Aimee, are you okay?" I asked.
Closing her eyes she said haltingly, "Please. Fuck. This. Slut. Now."
I would like to say that all kinds of thoughts of consent and such went through my brain, but my very fuckable, very horny, very out of her mind with desire, co-worker had just called me by name and asked me to fuck her.
Only one option: got to give the lady what she wants.
I took off my clothes, hanging them neatly in the closet. Returning to Aimee, I took the dildo from her and dropped it on the floor. Taking a hold of her ankles, I pulled them together and rolled her onto her belly. She had a wonderfully tight looking butt that was everything I'd thought it would be. Straddling her hips I guided my cock down into her pussy, and I reveled in the feeling as I sank into her in one long stroke. Her skin was hot and flushed, and her pussy felt like it was on fire. There really wasn't much conscious thought on my part. I held on to her hips as I withdrew, paused, and slammed back into her.
Aimee groaned loudly, face down into the pillow, and I had a feeling that pillow was going to be a good thing. Though I wasn't trying to tease her, I held myself fully sheathed for some long seconds before slowly pulling out and then quickly thrusting back in. About the fourth time, her body started to shake and the groaning stopped. I gave her two more quick strokes then held onto a bucking bronco as she came like a firecracker. Her pussy clamped down on my cock and then started to spasm. Then she screamed into the pillow for a good ten seconds before her whole body started to twitch; kind of like her muscles were doing 'the wave.' Somehow this show didn't push me over the edge, and I cannot say how that was possible. After half a minute of twitching she relaxed completely. I reached under her and took the vibrator from her loose grip.
Still slowly fucking her, I rocked her side to side so I could reach under and take hold of her fabulous tits. Hands now full, fingers pinching her very taut gum drop nipples, I leaned down and kissed her ear. Her pussy clenched me, and her eyes fluttered open. "Don't. Stop," she said, and her breathing started to pick up again.
As I said before, got to give the lady what she wants. Not having a lot of mobility in that position, I stayed deep within her and fucked her with slow, shallow strokes. Her breathing increased, and her pussy started to flex around my cock again. I was seriously enjoying myself, but after a few minutes she again opened her eyes and gave me a smoldering look, "Fuck. Me. Now."
