The Regional Directors' Meeting, Part 2 of ?? (MF,MF,MF,MF)

By Chaz Thain

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WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it may not be sold or changed in any way. I encourage comments and criticism. 
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A couple of weeks later Debby called me at work. 

"Hey handsome, is your dick still sore?" she began, letting me know she wasn't at her office. 

"I'm almost recovered," I said, "So are you coming out to make me sore again?"

"Actually, no," Debby said. "I'm calling to apologize."

"What did you do NOW!"

"Um, well, the office had a girls'-night-out and I got drunk and told five people the whole story of Mark and Debby and how lousy you are in bed."

"WHAT!"

"Calm down, silly, I told them the truth ... with lots of details ... followed by a question-and-answer session. The ladies were fascinated. I believe all six of us went home with wet panties."

"It only occurred to me the next day that it might be better to keep my mouth shut," Debby said contritely. 

"I can't see any harm," I countered. "Those babes are three states away from me."

"You forgot we send admin staff to every Regional Directors' meeting, and those girls are in the rotation," she said. "So one of them might be waiting outside your building to rape you one dark night."

"You told them where I work!" 

"Did I mention I was drunk?"

"Sheez," I said, but it was impossible to get mad at her. And the likelihood of her co-workers getting the hots for me seemed near zero. So I shrugged it off. Debby helped me forget by calling me on my cell phone while I was driving home and giving me great phone sex. She was lying naked on her bed, describing every movement of her fingers. I had to pull over at a park near home and jerk my joint to keep from crashing.

Weeks passed.

Then the phone rang one night as I was getting organized to leave work. A woman’s voice introduced herself as Margie, a friend of Debby’s from her office in New York. We chatted briefly about Debby, then Margie got to the point.

“I’m in town for the Regional Directors’ meeting and wondered if you would like to get together for a drink and some conversation,” she said. “Debby recommends you highly.”

I hesitated. A drink and some lively talk would be nice, I thought, and a better alternative than my dark house and sleeping wife. 

And Debby’s female friends tended to be smart -- sometimes brilliant. Debby wouldn’t tolerate people who were stupid, or pretended to be. She loved the sparks that flew when well-informed people were talking about books, movies, art or her other passions. And Nancy wouldn’t even notice if I came home late.

Then there was another possibility. Maybe she was just a lonely worker bee looking for some friendly conversation in a strange city. Or maybe she was one of the five who knew the story of Debby and Mark. Maybe she had something more than talking in mind? I wondered if she knew about my encounter with Debby at the last Regional Directors’ meeting.

“I’d like to have a drink with you,” I said. “Where should we meet?”

“Why don’t you come to my room,” Margie said. “Debby told me what you like to drink and I have all the makings in the mini-bar. And that way I won’t have to put on my suit again.” 

I was suddenly aware of my dick pressing against my leg, somewhere between limp and half-erect. It seemed at least possible that Margie wanted more than conversation.

‘If she’s awful,’ I told myself. ‘Then, all I have to do is play dumb, finish my drink and go home.’

I agreed to Margie’s plan and she gave me her room number. Fifteen minutes later I was driving towards the Marriott, racking my brain to remember details Debby had told me about her co-workers. Was Margie the 20-something party girl, the 30-something black girl who lived with her mother, or the 40-something widow? Hell, she could be anybody in Debby’s office including somebody she hadn’t mentioned. I was a little nervous, a little aroused, and a little intrigued. My heart rate and breathing were definitely advanced.

Some of my questions were answered a few minutes later when I knocked on the door to Room 1126. The spyhole darkened briefly and the door swung wide. 

“Mark?” she asked.

“Margie?” I replied.

“Come right in,” she said and turned to walk down the tiny hall away from me. I already knew she wasn’t old or ugly, although she was not young, either. 

Margie was attractive, in her 40s, with thick, brunette hair cut in a mid-length style that nicely framed her pale, fine-boned face. She was wearing a calf-length robe of green silk that covered her completely, but was snug in strategic spots. I hadn’t had time to assess the front view, but the view from behind was just fine. 

She led me to the small table beside the window and gestured me to one of the chairs. There were the usual signs of a business traveler’s room, including a laptop on the desk. A king-size bed took up most of the space. The room’s light came from the bedside lamp and the open bathroom door, and the view of the city lights was spectacular. 

A plate of fruit and crackers sat on the table, along with my favorite drink already mixed. 

“Let me know if that’s too strong, Mark, and I’ll try again,” Margie said. “The company pays our mini-bar bills, within reason.”

I took a sip and raised my glass to my hostess. 

“That’s perfect,” I said, “What are you drinking?”

“Roger taught me how to mix vodka martinis, and I got addicted,” she said briefly. “I even carry my own bottle of olives.

“Roger was my husband,” she added, a little sadly. “He’s been gone about three years now, but I often think of him.”

We talked about her husband (sudden heart attack), her kids (staying with grandma), her job (responsible but not powerful), and her hobby (sailing). I talked a little about myself, but stayed off the family topic. After 20 minutes, I liked Margie, admired her fortitude in raising two kids alone, and badly wanted to jump her bones.

She had kind dark eyes, a generous mouth and a keen wit. Her hands looked strong and she had short, practical nails covered by a pale pink polish. Her breasts were not large, but they were big enough to sway slightly when she leaned forward, and her nipples must have been fully erect. They made obvious bumps in the green robe where they pointed slightly to each side. Her well-proportioned ass I had seen when she let me in the room.

The conversation came to one of those natural pauses, and Margie took a deep breath -- lifting her nice breasts.

“I’m glad you dropped by, Mark, I dread coming to these things because I don’t know anybody in town and I’m too tired to do much after sitting in meetings all day.”

I murmured something sympathetic.

“Now,” she said, leaning forward and gazing directly in my eyes, “You could go over to the door, say ‘Good night’ and let yourself out ... with my thanks. Or ... you could go over and turn out the lights and see what happens.”

I admired the way she had managed the evening. She had invited me to her room and checked me out in private, then decided what she wanted. She also gave me a choice and a gentle way to accept, or turn her down, with nothing explicit being said.

I got up and walked to the door. And flipped off the lights.

There was plenty of light from the bathroom and the window, so I saw her stand and move quickly towards me while I was walking to her. We met at the foot of the bed and I took her in my arms, my hands enjoying the sensuous smoothness of silk over her firm, straight back.

Her mouth was eager, and more than that. The longer we kissed the more hungry she became, pressing her tongue deep into my mouth, fencing with my tongue, sucking at my lips. She was moaning, breath hissing in and out of her nose. Her hands pulled my belt open, then unbuttoned and unzipped the front of my pants as I tugged her robe open and pushed it off her shoulders. 

She dropped to her knees, roughly yanking my slacks and underwear to my ankles. And a moment later her hands guided my dick into her wet, warm, hungry mouth. She moaned again and the pleasure made me throw back my head, gasping and thrusting my hips. 

I had been 99 percent erect while we had our drinks, but now my dick felt bigger and harder than it had ever been. It felt huge, filling Margie’s mouth, and she sucked me hard, her tongue swirling around the head. My hands gripped her thick hair.

Then her mouth released my dick and she was on her feet, pulling me to the bed and shedding her robe to the floor. She climbed onto the bed, spread her legs wide and pulled me on top of her. Hobbled by my pants and shoes, I kicked madly until one foot came free and I was kneeling between her legs. 

She had one hand on my dick and the other on my shoulder, guiding me. 

“Inside me! I need you INSIDE me!” she cried, her face strained and intent. She pressed the head of my cock to the mouth of her pussy.

She was dripping wet. Her juices were already flowing from her pussy so that her coarse hair was soaked, her outer lips were coated and deep between them she was a warm river. I pressed down when the head of my dick felt the mouth of her pussy. And I slid inside her slowly, but steadily -- with only token resistance as her inner walls parted to admit me. 

Then the front of my hips was pressed flat against her widespread crotch. And she groaned, and groaned again a deep desiring moan of pleasure and need.

“God! Oh God! I need this, I NEED this! Fuck me! Fuck me now! Hard! Harder! HARDER! HARDER! HARDER!”

I obliged, pounding her as fast as I could. She was demanding in her need, sometimes pleading, sometimes ordering or encouraging me. She was explicit about what she wanted. The room was filled with the 'slap, slap, slap’ sound of our hips slamming together.

“Give me your dick! Give it to me! Harder! Fuck me harder! HARDER!” she cried, urging me on and on.

Her cum was so fast it surprised me. As aroused as I was, I was just beginning to feel my orgasm approaching when she began to whimper, her hips began thrusting wildly and her fingers dug painfully into my biceps. 

“Oh! Oh! Oooooh, yes! Oh, yes! Oooooh, I’m there, DON’T
STOP! Please! Please! Don’t ever stop! Don’t stock fucking, fucking me! Don’t STOP! FUCKING! ME! FUCKING! MEEEEEE!

So I kept that pace while I felt her pussy walls clasping my dick, trying to hold me inside her while I pulled out and pounded back in, time after time. Margie gasped and cried out and whimpered and squeezed me with her legs. Her eyes were wide open, staring up at me, her mouth gasping, her face twisted into a beautiful mask of desire.

“Waaaaagh! Uh! Uh! Uh! Aaaaagh!” she wailed. “More! Harder! HARDER! Don’t stop! Mmmmaaaaaaaaagh!

Eventually her orgasm began to fade and her mouth became slack and her eyes closed. But she was still panting like a sprinter and I still, more slowly, pulled out and gently pushed back inside her until finally she wrapped her legs around me and held me motionless. Her arms pulled me down and when I resisted, worried about crushing her,  she whispered, “Lie on me, stay inside me, I want to feel you.”

So we laid there for a long time, while her pussy sometimes pulsed around my dick and her breath in my ear slowed and our skin stuck together with sweat.

“My god I needed that,” she finally whispered. “I wanted to rip your clothes off as soon as I saw you. I don’t know what I would have done if you had left.”

I said nothing, but kissed her ear and the side of her face. 

After another long, contented silence, Margie said, “Do you mind if I ask you for another favor?”

“Not a bit,” I replied. 

“Well ... I’d better show you,” she said.

Gently she rolled me onto my back, and then she undressed me. I enjoyed watching her body move in the dim light, curious about what she wanted next. 

When she had me arranged the way she wanted, she lifted my knees and lay down between my widespread legs. I saw her looking up at me with a grin. 

“I always loved doing this,” she said, and lowered her mouth onto my sticky cock. 

Margie started slowly, sliding her lips down my shaft until the head of my dick bumped the back of her mouth. Then slowly she slid up -- until only the head was in her mouth. She stayed that way for awhile, with just my head in her mouth, her tongue licking slowly along the bottom, the side, top and other side. I  moaned with pleasure as she applied suction, then went back to licking.

“Margie,” I croaked. “I’m not going to last long if you do that.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said, her mouth briefly deserting my cock.

So even though she was torturing me with slow pleasure, I could feel my dick swelling even larger, and my balls tightening as my hips lifted of their own accord. I tried to hold back, but it was no use. A dam burst inside me and pleasure exploded like a white light behind my closed eyelids. A flood of hot semen rushed up my dick and blasted into Margie’s mouth.

“AAAaaaaagh! Oh! Oh, shit! Ohmygod!,” I cried. My awareness was reduced to my dick in her mouth as I continued to shoot and she continued to suck hungrily. 

“GAAaaaaa! Uh! UH! Ohmygod! Oh! Oh! YES! YES!” I blurted, thrusting my hips and holding her head in my hands. “Oh! Margie! So good! So GOOD!”

My first strong jets of semen were replaced by weak dribbles, but still she sucked and slid my dick in and out of her mouth. Then she just took me as deeply as she could and held her mouth still, her head resting on my thigh, her tongue sometimes caressing the underside of my shaft.

We laid that way for a long time as my dick slowly deflated, but still she kept me in her mouth, occasionally giving a light suck.

Finally she let me fall out of her mouth, sighed and raised herself on her elbows, smiling. 

“I think you LIKED that!” she said lightly. 

“Liked is not a big enough word,” I whispered weakly. “That was incredible! I’ll have to go home in an ambulance!”

“Not yet, you won’t,” she said, and hopped up to bring the fruit plate over to the bed. 

“Eat this,” she said, popping a grape into my mouth. “We need to get your strength back up.” 

So we spent the next half hour talking, eating and drinking in the middle of the rumpled bed. We sat facing each other, our legs intertwined. And when she noticed my cock twitching back to life, she reached down and stroked it lightly. 

“Do you think we could do it again?” she inquired hopefully.

So we did it again; but first I explored her pussy with my tongue until she squirmed, whimpered and exploded with long, drawn out moans of joy. Then she pulled me on top and guided my dick inside her for a long, slow fuck. She was beautiful when she climaxed staring wide-eyed up at me, squeezing with her legs, her hands pulling my head down for deep, moaning kisses.

Afterwards we lay spooned and contented until we were drifting on the edge of sleep and I reluctantly got up to leave. I thought she was sleeping, but she reached out for my hand as I headed for the door. 

“Thank you, thank you,” she said faintly before her hand fell and she drifted away.

End Part 2

------------------------------------------------------------------ 
WARNING -- This is a work of erotic fiction intended only for readers of a legally responsible age in the jurisdiction where they live. This work may be archived and redistributed, but it may not be sold or changed in any way. I encourage comments and criticism. 
------------------------------------------------------------------ 