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Rendezvous
This contains sexual themes, words, and actions.
And I don't think it's very moral either. If you
don't are under 21, go away. If you don't like that
sort of thing, go away.
If you DO like that sort of thing, read on!
This is a departure from my usual style. Once again,
I sat down, and this sort of just came out. I wrote
it in the first person, which I don't think I have
ever done before. Any feedback, whether good, bad,
indifferent, is always appreciated. And I usually
even write back! LOL
Rendezvous by Pami (pami1968@aol.com) (M/F)
So, there I was. I couldn't believe that it was me.
Where had my morals gone? I had always been a very
upstanding citizen. I never did drugs, never got into
trouble, was a student, had a promising career,
and I even voted in every election. After all, if you
don't vote, what right do you have to complain?
Geeze, I had even waited until I was 18 and a
freshman to lose my virginity. (It wasn't very good,
by the way, but I guess first times usually aren't.)
Anyway, back to "The Incident". There I was, sitting
at a hotel bar. Dressed in a rather clingy black knit
mini-dress that accentuated my large breasts, and was
short enough to show the sitting next to me that I
definitely had a garter belt and on. In
fact, I caught the guy next to me checking out the
lacy tops of them when my skirt rode up a little too
high. Hair curled and one lock falling over my
shoulder into my deep decolletage. Deep pink
lipstick, and matching fingernails. Borderline
trashy, but not enough for an observer to be certain.
What could I say? I was mesmerized and fascinated by
the who asked me to meet him there. He was
intelligent, witty, clever, handsome, and oh.. yes...
married. I was "the other woman".
It had been a typical day at work. I actually had
gotten quite a bit accomplished, and I was feeling
pretty proud of myself. I was happy, because it was
my weekend off, and if I was lucky, HE would come over
to see me. And we could laugh, and joke, and tickle,
and fuck for hours. Being the other woman isn't ALL
bad. You get all of the excitement of a relationship,
but don't really have to be concerned for the mundane
details like who is going to vacuum, walk the dog, and
honey, could you PLEASE turn the down so I can
sleep. Oh, you wouldn't know that I was a "ho" just
to look at me. (Well, I didn't think of myself that
way, but I am pretty sure that his would!) I
look just like the next door. You know, I dress
conservatively, not much makeup, golden hair, fair
skin, huge brown eyes, a pouty lower lip. Oh... my
body? Well, zaftig is a nice way to describe it.
Abundant. Larger than average breasts. A larger
than average waist. And rounded hips. Long legs.
And a shapely yet tight ass. Yep...if you liked
somewhat larger women, you would probably like me. A
throwback to the "real" women of the 40's and 50's.
Wow, I keep getting sidetracked. Anyway.... he called
me at work and told me that he couldn't see me that
night, because he and the had to attend some
bigwig formal-type dinner for some political guy in
from another city. It was black-tie, of course, and
he wanted me to know that he would be wearing the
cuff-links that I gave him. And no underwear, of
course. He just said it to tease me. Make me
daydream of his curling hair over the collar of
the black tux that he owned. He is someone semi-
important in our small city. Although he assured me
that his opponent in the last election wouldn't ever
reveal my existence, because he had a mistress on the
side too. (Sigh...politicians are all the same,
aren't they?) I was disappointed, but what is a
girl to do? So I took a long luxurious bubble bath
scented with raspberries, shaved every inch of my body
from the neck down, and put on one of my lacy
negligees. To sit at home and watch TV. (Its not all
fun being the other woman too, you know!) Around 8:00
the phone rang. I answered and it was him.
The dinner was boring as hell, he told me. She was
driving him nuts, and he hated having to smile and be
nice to all of the people who really just wanted to
kick him in the nuts and watch him squirm. What was I
doing? So, I told him about the bath and the candles
I had lit, and the satin sheets on the bed. He
laughed his throaty laugh and then made the
proposition. Meet him at the hotel bar. Just for a
drink or two. We could pretend to be strangers. And
flirt. His wife? Oh, well, she would be in the
banquet room, doing the pretty and schmoozing. She
loved that sort of thing. She wouldn't miss him for a
half-hour or so.
He gave me 25 minutes. Whew, did I run around the
apartment! Plugging in the curling iron, putting on
my makeup, smoothing on my stockings. Trying to
figure out which to wear. Not that he would
see them, but I wanted to feel sexy. And dangerous.
I drove the ten minute drive to the hotel in about six
minutes. I went into the lounge, and plunked myself
down and ordered a whisky sour. With a cherry. I
looked around at the other people sitting at the bar.
I caught more than one staring at me. I smiled at
a couple, but kindly refused the drinks that they
offered me. I wondered what they thought of me. Did
they think I was a hooker, looking for a trick? No, I
didn't look THAT trashy. Maybe a call girl. Yeah,
THAT was it. I kind of liked that idea. An
attractive in jeans and a sweater came over and
sat down next to me. He smiled and handed me a couple
of lines. It had been a long time since I had heard
"what's a beautiful like you doing in a place
like this?" or that insanely stupid one about "if I
told you that you had a beautiful body, would you hold
it against me?" But I smiled and laughed. This was
fun. But he eventually went away when it was obvious
that I wasn't biting. I asked the to my right the
time. He looked me up and down, VERY thoroughly,
lingering on my tits. But he told me. Hmmm....my
stranger in the night was late.
I grew absorbed in the hockey game on the large off
to the side of the bar, and was slightly startled when
a hand touched my shoulder and a slightly accented
voice asked if the seat to my left was taken. I
smiled, and asked him to please, sit down. His blue
eyes sparkled down at me, full of mischief, and
he seated himself, pulling the cuffs of his white
shirt down, my attention to the cufflinks.
"My goodness, sir, what interesting cufflinks you have
on? May I look a little closer?" I asked with a
coquettish toss of my hair.
"I could never refuse a beautiful woman," was the
response I got as he lifted his long-fingered hand and
placed it upon my forearm.
I picked his hand up, surreptitiously tickling his
palm with my forefinger, and commented upon the
unusual workmanship of the small oval holding his
shirt-cuffs together.
He shivered once, and his eyes darkened slightly.
"Ah, well, someone special gave them to me once, so
that I would remember her forever."
"And will you, sir?" I asked, batting my eyelashes.
He laughed. "Oh yes. I will never forget the look in
her eyes when she...." and he stopped.
"When she?" I prompted, really enjoying this little
role play.
"Well, I am a bit embarrassed to explain to a
stranger, but she had a unique look in her eyes when
she wanted me to touch her. It was very flattering
and exciting, and if she had been able to give the
secret of that look to others, we would be
constantly aroused."
I could feel my moisten slightly at the
thought of him aroused, and I shifted slightly in my
seat, pretending that my needed to be pulled
up, so I could show my garters to him.
He didn't miss the signal, and he commented about how
women who wear rather than pantyhose were
the most erotic and exotic creatures he had ever met.
I shot him a playful look out of the corners of my
eyes, and asked, "And do you think I am erotic and
exotic, sir?"
He threw his head back and laughed loudly, so that
those seated at the bar who hadn't noticed our little
by-play already looked over. "My dear, although I
don't know you very well at all, I would hazard a
guess that you are one of the most erotic and exotic
females that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."
And with that comment, his right hand touched my left
knee and slid slightly up, caressing my inner thigh.
I felt myself blush as his fingers slid just
underneath the lacy top of the and rested
against the soft skin there. About three more inches
and he would feel how wet I was just from this teasing
badinage that we were engaged in.
He told me that he was a stranger visiting our country
from Argentina, where he was a wealthy landowner. He
raised bulls on the pampas, and as he told me that he
raised one of his eyebrows suggestively at me. I
giggled, enjoying the little game, and told him that I
was a poor working who had been stood up for my
date this evening. As I finished my drink, I
ostentatiously looked at my watch.
I looked around, and making sure that there wasn't
anyone new in the lounge, I leaned a little closer to
him, and asked if he would like to walk me to my car,
since it was getting late, and I really should get
some beauty sleep.
He slipped his hand out of its resting place and
stood, pulling my chair back to help me alight. He
held my sweater for me, and I slipped into it. The
hem was about two inches shorter than my mini-dress,
and it didn't button up the front, instead
accentuating my curves to the eyes that watched us
leave.
We walked out to the parking lot, and as we got to my
car, he pulled me into his arms, and kissed me
thoroughly. His tongue darted into my mouth, rubbing
against mine, and I moaned, allowing him to push me
against the side of the car with his body. I was
grateful in that moment that I had been forced to park
almost in the corner of the huge lot, so that no one
would see us.
He lifted one of my legs and wrapped it around his
waist, allowing me to feel his erection against my
pussy. "You look SO incredible," he moaned as he
licked my neck. "Every at that bar wanted to fuck
you. I could see it in their eyes." He possessively
reached up and pulled the fabric of my neckline down,
exposing my full encased in a black lace bra
that you could easily see my nipples through. I
moaned again.
"Touch me. Please....touch my tits. Feel how hard
they are for you. Please," I panted.
He did better than that, bending his head and latching
on to the right nipple with his teeth, right through
my bra. My hands pulled on the hair at the nape of
his neck as I knew he liked, and I loved hearing the
groan he made as I did so.
He lifted me up onto the trunk of my car, and pulled
the bra cup down so that my milky white shone
in the faint light, tipped by a dusky peak that ached
for his touch.
"God, you are so beautiful. Look at your nipple. Look
at how hard it is," he commanded me, and we both
watched as his fingers circled it so that the areola
erected as well. He flicked his fingertips back and
forth over my engorged nipple quickly, and we both
moaned at the sensation.
I reached down and touched his hard cock through his
pants. He felt like a steel rod, and I wanted to
touch him. I unzipped his trousers, and his prick
practically leapt through the opening, pointing at me.
It wasn't the largest cock I had ever seen, but just
the sight of it made my mouth (and parts south) water.
I pulled him to me by wrapping my legs around his ass,
never letting go of his erection. I reached down, to
rub him up and down me, and I arched my back slightly
and he slid deep within me.
We both moaned, pretty loudly, I guess. The pleasure
and the danger was heady stuff. He just smiled at me
and said two words, "No panties?"
"I wanted to feel dangerous. Good thing I didn't have
to bend over at the bar for anything, eh?" I smiled
back at him as he began to thrust in and out of me.
"You... are... the...most...erotic...woman...." he
panted as he moved in and out of me.
His hardness felt incredible, and I knew it wouldn't
take long for me to come. I was so excited at this
point that I could feel my orgasm right around the
bend.
"Oh... please.....make me come," I begged. "Keep
fucking me. You feel so good."
He reached down one hand and flicked my clit back and
forth in time with his thrusts, and I was there. I
put my fist in my mouth to keep from making too much
noise (I'm kind of screamer if its done right!) and
felt the walls of my clamp around him. God it
felt incredible.
He thrust one final time deep into me, and held it
there with a groan as I felt the semen shoot out of
his cock and flood me. Well, I didn't actually feel
him shoot, but I felt the pulsing of the underside of
his cock telling me that he was coming. And the look
on his face tipped me off too. (Have you ever noticed
that get this really intense almost like they are
going to die look as they come?)
He just held himself inside me as he pulled my bra cup
over my and rearranged the neckline of my dress
to cover my undergarments. He leaned down and kissed
me deeply and pulled out, wiping himself on the skirt
of my dress (well, no one's perfect!), before putting
his cock away and zipping up.
He helped me down off of the trunk, and we could both
see the wet spot gleaming from the lights of the
parking lot. He ran his finger over it and licked it
clean. Wow, was that nasty, but that is one of the
things that I love about him. He can always be
counted on to make things interesting.
"I have to go babe," he told me. "She's going to be
wondering where I am, and I am sure someone wants to
shake my hand."
I smiled, got into my car and drove back to my empty
apartment. Sometimes being the other woman stinks.