This story 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 model 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 college 
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 men sitting next to me that I 
definitely had a garter belt and stockings on.  In 
fact, I caught the old 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 man 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 TV 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 wife would!)  I 
look just like the girl 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 wife 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 blond 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 panties 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 man 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 man 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 girl 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 man 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 tv 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, drawing 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 men would be 
constantly aroused."

I could feel my panties moisten slightly at the 
thought of him aroused, and I shifted slightly in my 
seat, pretending that my stockings 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 stockings 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 stocking 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 girl 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 man 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 breasts 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 breast 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 pussy 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 guys 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 breast 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.
