Part I (if enough interest, i can turn into a series) – X/Post from /r/sex question
I was at a conference. They always packed the seats in too tightly, but usually the session was half empty so we were spaced out. In this session, however, the speaker was highly anticipated so the seats were full. Since there was nothing worse than being sandwiched, I opted for a seat on the end.
I had spotted her a few times earlier at the session – an attractive brunette with green eyes and a slender – yet curvy – build. A quiet observer, i often imagined how she got dressed in the morning. And as you might realize, this was problematic for a man wearing a Canali suit – they weren't the most spacious insofar as my junk was concerned.
As she had approached my row for the session, I felt a simultaneous anxiety and pleasure. Anxiety because I'm naturally shy. And pleasure because I hoped that fate was finally giving me an opportunity my shyness could not sabotage.
As she sat, I heard the subtle hiss of her nylons against the fabric of her skirt material. Settling into the seat, our thighs were pressed tightly for an instant before she raised slightly, and slid her hand down the length of her upper leg as she uncreased her skirt. Tortured, I felt the back of her hand tracing my thigh through my thin summer dress pants.
I nodded gently to her to acknowledge her presence and attempt to remove some of the awkwardness of our close proximity. Her green eyes were even more radiant in the dim lights of the hall. Her red gloss moistened her lips in a most entrancing way.
Some small talk ensued before the session started. Being in the back row, we could afford to be a bit more casual at little risk to disturbing the proceedings, but still we were polite and reserved. As the lights dimmed further still, our focus shifted back to the front. At least it was supposed to shift there.
In our closeness, I became aware of her presence on an even greater level. I sensed our breathing matching pace, and our shoulders simultaneously relaxed. This brought our arms and legs back into contact, and of course my heart began to pound.
Being a distance runner for the past five years, when my heart pounds, it shakes my entire chest. I was certain that this must have translated to her awareness because I felt her take a deep inhalation and press tighter against me.
Was it possible, I thought? Might she also be interested in some physical contact? I leaned back in my chair, and made my stance more aggressive by separating my legs slightly. I followed my purple tie down my white dress shirt to where it ended at my belt buckle. I was conducting a self-check of sorts, wondering whether the hardening of my cock – or worse yet – the accumulating precum was becoming noticeable just yet.
Fortunately, it hadn't. That status quickly became at risk, though, as I lifted my eyes and caught her looking down at my package too. This – as you might imagine – initiated a "flare". For the unknowing, a flare is the unstoppable self-thrust of my penis head and shaft as a more urgent rate of blood pumping is instituted by my motioning testicles. It is both wonderous and desire inducing. It was both welcome and unwelcome given my constraints and necessary self-restraint. My lips parted, and i executed a deep, shuddering breath inward that caught me by surprise.
Emboldened now, I pressed my thigh even tighter against hers, and she reciprocated. Every sense was heightened and I sought to confirm her status and what she was feeling. I regarded her arm to trace its contact points along her body. I noticed how she had tightened it's path across her breast, though I could not infer whether she had done so to stimulate a hardening nipple, or to stimulate it. Her hands were clasped tightly in her pelvis, making a pressure pocket as she pressed downward.
The heat in my pants was surging, and my cock was rapidly growing beyond its confines. Peeking again, I could now detect the shape of my penis head – cut – outlined as it grew longer down my thigh pointed altogether in the wrong direction. If god had one mercy, it was that it traced down my right thigh so that she could see it in even closer view.
where’s part II???