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Young black man continues affair with married blonde woman.
Now it is just a waiting game.
As I look at you, you can see and feel the desire burning in my eyes. It is time for our own brand of entertainment. We have never gone beyond teasing each other before, but it is amusing all the same and intensifies our love-making later on in the night.
You lean over kiss my cheek softly whispering your hot breath into my ear. "Pull up your dress, baby." From the past experience I know you want to see the thigh highs on my legs just at the top of my thighs where they stop. I remove the napkin from my lap and expose my silk wrapped leg to you. You brush back my hair and simply say, "Beautiful." I feel myself tingling as your voice grows a bit huskier betraying your passion.
Conversation swirls around us still, but our minds have drifted away. We sip our wine with benign expressions. Now it is my turn to tempt you. I lick my lips, my dark eyes traveling downwards, lashes netting my eyes flirtatiously. Your hand slips down to my thigh and rub it softly pushing my dress even higher. You know some others sitting next to you can see, but we don't care; you want to see my most private region, now starting to ache and dampen with desire. You can see by my breathing deeper that my body is beginning to react to your touch. You know I want you - I know you have to have me - and I know you will find a way to take me away from here so we can take off the pretense. You know me so well and know my body so well, a knowing smile hidden in your wine glass as you sip. I twist in the chair against your finger now tracing my lips.
You can see me sucking on a drink straw just like I suck you, bluntly stating my need. My hands slides into your lap under your napkin, stroking softly, squeezing gently, feeling your own desire. If we don't do something now I may just moan out-loud giving it all away.
The music begins to play, bringing us into reality enough to remind us where we are. You ask me to dance, and not a few eyes from our table watch us walk off onto the dance-floor. The music is soft, and the lights a dim as our bodies come together. The prolonged teasing causes a shiver to run through my body pressed to yours. I have been waiting for this contact, and I feel as if I am on fire for you, burning from the inside out with a flame only our mutual pleasures will put out.
You whisper in my ear again as we sway seductively to the music, "I know you're getting wet; I can feel it, right here." Your thick cock pushes against my dress so that I can feel your bulge throbbing against me.
I am wrapped in your arms, and we barely move as we dance. Actually, it is more like a slow grind, almost like we are fucking on the dance-floor. My legs spread a little wider wanting your cock deeper. We rock to the music and your cock presses harder and harder against my slit. Your tongue licks my neck, driving me crazy as your cock pulsates harder and harder against me. People swirl around us dancing to the music as our bodies grind.
It is too much, I suddenly moan. You know my pussy is beginning to drip down my leg with desire. "I can't take this anymore. We need to leave, now!"
You say nothing; just take my hand and walk off the dance floor. My pussy is soaking my hot pink lips, and my nipples are now aching and erect for you so much that they are almost showing at the top of the dress.
Leaving the ballroom, we are back in the Concourse as we walk hand in hand in a hurried step. I push open a door to a banquet room, tugging you in behind me. There are men in the back kitchen working, but we are blind in our need and purpose to feel skin on skin, rocking against each other. The room is dimly lit and no one else is actually in it. I can see one lone chair sitting against the wall. We walk over to the chair, and you sit with me standing in front of you.
"Pull up your dress baby," you tell me, hands already busy.