It's the last day of the conference, and I have an important breakfast meeting, so I sneak out of the room, leaving you peacefully asleep. I return mid-morning to find you lazily propped up in bed, flipping channels. I step in to the room in my best blue silk suit, black lace top, black silk stockings and heels.
"I'm done!" I announce, "and now I need your attention, right here please!" I've picked up the desk chair, (armless, of course) and placed it between the two beds. I pat the seat with my hand.
"Please, be my guest!" I exclaim.
You smile, get an amused look on your face, and crawl out of the covers. You are naked, and the seat's a little cool as you sit down.
Your jaw drops and you start to laugh as I drop to the floor and start to crawl toward you. Your laughter changes to a moan of pleasure as I make my way between your legs and take you fully into my mouth.
"Mmmmmm," I moan, and the vibration makes you come alive. I back off as you grow, and I release you when you become fully erect, licking playfully as I smile up at you. One more time I drop my head into your lap and take you in my mouth. You run your hands through my hair as I run my mouth up and down your now hard shaft. I stop, lean back, and reach into my jacket pocket, pulling out my little bottle of astroglide. I open the top and let a few drops drip directly on you before adding my hands. Your expression tells me it's driving you crazy, and watching you and feeling you slide through my hands is getting me extremely hot.
I start to stand, trailing my tongue up your chest, to your lips and across your neck while one hand still massages you. I cross to your neck, and when I reach your ear, I take your hand, set it on mine and say, "You take over here while I undress. It's show time!"
I moan wickedly in your ear, and stop briefly at you mouth for a deep, hot kiss before pulling away. I cross to the dresser, where a tape player sits, and press 'play'. Michael Bolton's sultry tune "Can I Touch You There?" begins to play.
First, I undo the buttons on my jacket. As it falls free, it's obvious that the little bit of lace you saw before is a tank top, with no bra. I shrug the jacket from my shoulders and toss it carelessly on the bed. I gyrate to the beat of the music and my hands caress my body, across my hips, up my ribcage and over my chest, up behind my neck and through my hair. My eyes are closed; I'm focused on the music, on the pleasure, and I lick my lips. When I open them briefly, I am treated to you, eyes glued to me, hand stroking away.