"Why are you here?" I asked.
"To have some fun. To drink. You said you had some good stuff in your room."
"Why here, why me?"
"What do you mean?"
"There were at least fifty men in that ballroom. One of them was probably your husband. Right?"
"It looked like some corporate function. A Christmas Party? You should be on your husband's arm, laughing at his jokes, impressing his coworkers, sucking up to his boss."
"I'd rather be sucking up that big cock you pressed against me when we danced."
"I saw you enter the room. Your eyes evaluated everyone, dismissed them all, focused on me. They never left mine as you crossed the room. You strode toward me like a ram in a flock of sheep. You asked me to dance, like ... like you owned me, like I wasn't sitting between my husband and my boss."
"So. Tonight you do own me, for a while..."
We were in a third-floor room in a Holiday Inn. There were three parties on the ground floor. I had glanced in. Three groups of men in dark suits, with wives in new dresses. Rubber chicken, peas and tired music. And I HAD seen only her. Maybe it was the auburn hair, the tight green dress, her breasts. She was searching the room for something, her eyes surely found mine.
"Then it was your company's dinner, not your husband's?"
"Kirby Software. We're a new startup. Eight months ago I signed on as a secretary, two promotions later I'm an office manager."
"You must do good work."
"I do a lot of things good."
"Still, you and your husband should be working the room, making good impressions."
"He's not very impressive," she said, "Not like this." Her manicured fingers stroked the outline of my cock through my pin-striped pants."
"Do some good work. Show me what you do best."
She knelt. Her mouth captured the head of my cock behind a layer of serge. Nimble fingers made quick work of buttons and belt, snap and zipper. "GOD! You are impressive," she breathed, as the length of my shaft was revealed, "I will have to work, to handle all this." She kissed the head of my cock and smiled. She twisted the diamond on her ring away from my flesh.
She was determined to take it all, every inch. Once she got the head past her lips, she took the first few inches into her mouth easily, impressively. Her left hand stroked me, as her right lifted my balls. She made adjustments to her posture, leaning forward, tilting her head back, as she swallowed more of my length. She nearly gagged, several times, as the tip entered her throat, but pressed on. Inch by inch, she swallowed, taking me ever deeper as she plunged. The strain was evident.
I held her still, forcing her to rest, to breathe. "You do that so well," I said, "You love a big cock, don't you? Does your husband have one?"
"Not hardly. I'd had some large ones, but not nearly the size of yours, before our marriage."
"Why did you marry him then."
"He has other qualities. Good qualities. I try to remember those good qualities."
I stroked her face and lips with my cockhead. "Are you ready?"
Somehow it was easier for her now. She relaxed and began to take more of me, deeper. Soon her lips reached the base of my shaft. She plunged down upon me, full depth, tip to root. She paused herself now, when she needed to, resting, breathing, holding just the head in her mouth, working the shaft with exquisite twisting strokes of her hands.
She slid the shoulder straps of her gown off her shoulders, down her arms, exposing those magnificent breasts. She lifted them to embrace my cock, sliding them up and down the shaft. The sight and feel were unbelievable. When she licked the head of my cock as it emerged, I groaned and thrust involuntarily. She smiled widely. It felt just so damn good. When she closed her lips around me, and her mouth began to follow her stroking breasts, I nearly lost it.
"I am so close," I moaned, "Where do you want it?"
.... There is more of this story ...