Ayla
The first thing I noticed was her hard nipples through her top under her blazer. She wore a blue chenile pant suit - pants, top and jacket. She finished off in short black stilletos and impossibly time consuming hair and makeup. The suit, tailored and well creased, was deliciously soft, flexible and responsive to her form. It practically begged to be touched. Indeed, her whole persona oozed just that. Touch me. Now.
I remained standing, collating my paperwork at the end of the conference table as she sat down. She leaned forward, turned her head up to me to talk to me about our current project. Hard to believe she didn't know exactly what she was doing. Reflexively and not suprisingly, I surveyed from her collarbone to the lacy edge of her bra cup. Possible to be mistaken for looking her in the face, then returning my focus down to my work, I hoped I had not fooled her, nor that she had been offended.
Her cleavage was soft and generous. She would have large breasts that maybe fell a little long by some folks tastes. But not mine. I really don't care. What I care about is the softness, the response to a gaze and a touch and, of course, the invitation. She had just invited me to play. Again.
~ * ~
Ayla was a bouncy, flirty, fun-dancing, party girl in her late forties. Very clear that she was aware of her power with everyone. She was not shy by any means, happily inserting herself into conversations with a funny quip where most would be polite and resigned to wait out their turns to speak. She was crisp professionally, with bright eyes, a clear voice and solid information. She never hesitated to offer recommendations and followed through with pinache.
The first time I met her, I was immediately reminded of the fact that age and body were always secondary to attitude and love of life when it came to sexual attraction. The fantasy of taking her in any number of places immediately came to mind and practically overpowered all my abillities to resist.
Later, in phone conversations taken on as a matter of course in our work, I shared with her some of my background and wider issues facing me. Though consistent with her open attitude, her depth in responding with empathetic stories of her own was suprising and welcome. During one of those most difficult periods in my life, she was one of many who offered her best to me. It added to her charm and my attraction to her.
It was very clear this was a lady not afraid to live life. Thus the drums began to drone and the stage was set to expand our flirtations.
~ * ~
Our meeting in the conference room went as far as it could go without actually viewing the work itself. We took a walk to the site. I stared at her hands for evidence of matrimony she had refrenced before and came up with an empty ring finger. I stole every glance I could and was rewarded by her chenile pants responding to her wonderful ass trembling ever so slightly as she walked. My hands there, my crotch pressed, grinding there. Oh, the lust was strong. I chided her for not getting together for drinks and in response she simply quipped, "because you haven't asked." And there it was, again. "Let's fix that!"
We lingered in the elevator lobby, having fun with our mutual client by joking around and laughing. She moved in close to me more than once and I made sure I was close enough to make it easy for her to touch my arm and our hips. I held her arm once or twice in that funny gesture people make to reassure them when they are joking around. As she boarded the elevator, promising to get me samples, I told her we should meet over lunch. She agreed and that was that.
~ * ~
Under the well appointed table, her stocking clad leg had departed the confines of its shoe and had begun an expedition. The exposed toes scouted their way in short, sweeping strokes up and down my leg, until she finally rested her heel on my seat cushion. The warmth of her foot at my crotch and the position were just right to get me and keep me excited. This dance began right after we had ordered lunch in the rocous din of the high ceilinged restaurant. I had responded by losing my own shoe and stroking the inside of her anchored leg. Her eyes sparkled and we laughed often as we went over our work.
The couple across the way was having their own flirt. Ayla and I joked about it without breaking our gaze and began to edge around what they were doing. We saw both the gal, with a respectable golden silkish, button down shirt open to just above her bra and the guy in khakis and a polo ogle us periodically. The woman's nipples easily shaped the shiny, loose fit fabric as did his through the cotton weave of his tunic. The idea of the woman being excited by Aylas foot in my crotch drove me wild. And it seemed to drive her boyfriend a little nuts too as he lingered to adjust his napkin - regularly.
Aylas scouting foot had arrived in my crotch right after the salad course. We were now on desert, and the massage she delivered had brought me to the edge of coming once already. The conversation had ranged over wide territory as we surveyed the multitude of common experiences. Like two kids doing the old dance, all that remained, really, was navigating the last mile. The conversation had been polite, and thus far, designed to appear as a couple of friends getting acquainted. She pressed her toe just right and I was inspired.
"Do you think they'll fuck now or wait till tonight?" Ayla's eyes widened over the edge of her coffee cup and I knew I had beat her to the inevitable punch.
"Oh God," she said, "they won't make it out of the parking lot!"
Our uproar was like water from a fountain. The room's din had been tested and no one had given us a second look. To prevent my besting her again with the next comment she countered, "Should he fuck her slow and hard or just do it fast and walk away?"
"Are you kidding? If it were me, hot as she is, I would fuck her dressed as she is now, then again in just her lingerie, then again as I stripped her naked then again in the tub and I'd finally come with her as she was face down on the bed." Again, her eyes widened as she swept her hand quickly over her laughing mouth. "How about you? Would you want him fast and hard, or ...."
"Now you're kidding me! Who wants him! I'd strap a dildo on her or me and go at it fast and slow all night long!" She pressed the entirety of her foot into me and I bit my lip. She laughed again. Then we stepped onto the ramp for that last 10 feet.
She beat me to it and said, "So how should we fuck?" It was just too much. I just didn't have a good one for that. Now it was my turn to cover my laughing mouth. "As long, as gentle and as hard as you can stand!" We both laughed and I pulled her foot against my crotch as I ground my hip a little too obviously. I was way, way, way over the edge.
The woman across the way had heard and seen that last bit. Her dropped jaw closed and she gave us both that "guuyyys, coool it!" look. Her charge had gotten on the phone without our realizing it and was not paying any attention. Ayla and I both looked at her and bit our lips at her. Her boyfriend still engaged, Ayla looked at me, then her, then me, then her, then me again. I nodded excitedly and Ayla caught her eye, pointed across the room and mouthed "restroom!" Our new friend's eyes got large this time and she looked at him, looked at us, looked at him and got up to head that way.
"Oh shit!" Ayla said.
"What did you expect?"
"Certainly not that she'd go for it!!" I suddenly realized she had only been doing this as a flirt for my benefit. She hadn't expected it to go anywhere. "You have to come with me!" she pleaded.
"To get you out of trouble?"
"No, you fool. To get me in it!!"
~ * ~
Our tryst in the bathroom was only fast enough for all of us to generate enough heat to sustain us until our next encounter. We dared only enough to bundle in a huge hug and french kissing fest. Her name was Beth and she left us a card. "I have to go. Call me. Soon." she pleaded as she gave us each a final, deep french kiss. She had grabbed Ayla's thigh below her skirt and dragged the hem up to expose Ayla's nylon clad ass. I was so moved, that when Beth's brunette goodness came to me, I returned the favor. Ayla could not take her eyes off of Beth's ass. "I gotta go!"
Ayla and I just looked at each other, then at the door and miraculously, came out of the fever enough to treat each other professionally again. Not to let the moment go, I kissed her deeply. She responded passionately, but was clearly a bit anxious about being discovered. We both went to the mirror to straighten up to exit with some sense of propriety.
We caught each others eyes in the mirror as we dryed our hands and shared that kind of "now what" look. We shook our heads and giggled as though all that had happened was that a good friend had shared a joke with us.
We paid our tab and she offered a place we could go and continue our conference. Once there, in her secluded office, we did fuck each other slow, hard and wild.
Of course, we did the same for Beth a few nights later and later today, I'll see them both again. We'll all dress as professionals in a way designed to inspire confidence and lust in our coworkers.
I wonder what we'll each be wearing ...