The conference had been surprisingly fun so far. When my boss asked me to go, I didn’t see why, but the company was paying my way, and I would have some free time to visit with a friend who had moved here a few years ago, so I agreed. Even though it was for industry professionals, and I was just a lowly assistant, I still found the topics useful, and was sure I’d be able to bring some of what I’d learn back to the office.
Now I was all dolled up, eating a fancy dessert after the fancy dinner, and drinking the free drinks, silently listening to the shop talk at the table. The band was getting ready for the dance, and the staff asked us to move tables so they could clear a dance floor. My boss and I stopped at the bar on the way by to refill our drinks.
“I hope you’re having a good time.” It was more of a question. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“That’s because I’m an insufferable introvert.” I laughed. “But I enjoy just listening to the conversation. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“That’s what I like about you, Anna.” He smirked. “I never have to worry about you.”
I followed him to a new table, and watched him as he easily struck up a conversation with his peers. I knew he was putting on a show, that he was also an insufferable introvert, but he had to network for the sake of the business. We were close in age, although he had already crossed into his 40s, tall and fit, with short, curly auburn hair, grey eyes, and a bright smile. He was also awkward, particular and detail oriented to a degree that most employees would find frustrating, while I found comfort in his consistency. Our personalities were very similar, except I had no reason to put on an air of confidence beyond my polite smile and good manners. On the heavy side, I hid my insecurities behind a few tattoos, an edgy haircut, and always perfectly manicured nails.
The band finally started playing the usual vintage party rock, and conversation became impossible. My boss’s peers peeled off one by one with their spouses, or hookups, or bid us goodnight. I sat listening to the band, awkwardly aware of his awkwardness, for a few minutes before my drink was finished and I thought it was polite enough to take my leave. I turned to him but before I could say anything he stood and held out his hand, gesturing to the dancefloor. I took his hand and allowed him to lead me, trying to think if this was the first time he’d ever actually touched me.
With my hand in his, and his hand on my back, he lead me in a bouncy two-step. “You’re a good dancer.” He sounded surprised.
I nodded. “Jack is a terrible dancer, so he makes me look bad.”
He laughed at the jab at my husband. They had known each other in school and didn’t realize it until the first staff BBQ after I’d been hired. Although they’d never been close friends, Jack was the kind of guy that could sustain a conversation with anyone for any length of time.
“Looking forward to seeing the family tomorrow?” My boss inquired.
“Of course,” I winked, “But not having to tend to the children has been nice.”
As the night wore on, the dancing continued. We’d sit for the songs that weren’t good for two stepping, and he’d invite me up for the ones that were.
“You know,” I said at one point, “you don’t have to humor me. You can dance with someone else.”
He looked at me seriously and shrugged. “I don’t want anyone else.”
The odd choice of words bounced around in my head for the next couple of songs. And was it my imagination, or was he holding my closer? Was his mouth closer to my ear? Did he have a look in his eye? Maybe it was the booze. More than likely I was imagining it. I had never been on the receiving end of much flirtation so any attention I was paid went instantly to my head.
And then, as the band announced the next few songs would be their last, he slipped his hand a bit lower on my back, he held my hand close to his chest, and he was definitely holding me closer. My breath quickened. What the hell? I thought to myself. I’m a married woman. He’s my boss. But I didn’t take any steps in protest. No, I kind of liked this feeling. It had been a long time since I’d had someone new…
I mustered the courage to speak. “What’s happening, James?” I caught his eyes which sparkled mischievously. “Do I need to worry about YOU?”
His hand slipped even lower to the top of my ass. “Just a bit of fun.” He breathed in my ear.
“There’s other girls…”
“I don’t know them.” He pulled back to look at me meaningfully. “I know you. I like you.”
“I didn’t think I was your type.” I flushed. “You… you know… you work out…”
“I know who you are.” He deflected. “I see you every day.”
“I don’t want to blow up my life for this.” I declared.
“We don’t need to bring it home.”
The last song ended, the band thanked the small crowd left, and the house lights came on. James stepped back from me completely, putting perfectly respectful distance between us. But his eyes smouldered with desire, and a shiver of excitement bolted through me.
“I’ll walk you up.” He offered and invited me toward the elevator. We were the only two who stepped inside. As the doors closed, he closed the distance between us, hands on either side of me on the wall, and sunk his mouth into mine. The tension melted and I reached out for his hips, pulling him toward me. We made out until the elevator bell rang, and he deftly stepped away, leaving me breathless, just in case someone was waiting outside. No one was, and he grabbed my hand and led me to my room. I fumbled for the room key, finally got the door unlocked, and pulled it open for him. He stepped in, shedding his shoes and his jacket, then took my hand again, pulling me toward him.
There were no words between us, only moans and heavy breathing. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I mine around his neck as we kissed. He slid the straps of my dress down as I fumbled with his shirt buttons. He undid my bra and I unbuckeled his belt. He kissed my neck as he slid my dress to the floor, and I ran my hands over his muscled back and into his hair. He stepped out of his pants and layed me down on the bed, climbing on top of me, his knee against my crotch. I ground my pelvis into his knee and felt his cock through his boxer briefs, pushing into me.
He fondled my ample breasts and sucked on my nipples as I massaged his cock through his shorts. He moaned and dug his fingers into my thick ass, pulling me closer still. He kicked off his underwear as he rolled off me, sidled his erection up to my face and put a strong hand on the back of my head. I opened my mouth to let him in and he wasted no time fucking my mouth. Urgently, he thrust in and out while my spit ran down his shaft. He shoved his hand into my soaking panties and drove two fingers into my slick pussy. I squealed, my mouth full of him, which only made him shove his cock further down my throat. He alternated between massaging my clit and finger fucking my pussy while he pushed my head forward and back, using my face. I squirmed out of my panties, and opened my legs for him.
I could feel the buildup of my orgasm clenching in my belly, and he must have felt the spasms in my muscles. He withdrew his cock from my mouth, and in an instant was back on top of me, pinning my wrists to the bed and whispered in my ear, hungrily. “Let me fuck you.”
“Oh, please,” I breathed, on the edge of release, his cock now teasing my clit. “Yes, please.”
And with that, he plunged himself into me. I gasped at the fullness of it, and he at the tightness of my pussy. He was urgent, but not rough, kissing me deeply and running his hands up and down my curves as he thrust. I moved my pelvis in time with his, and suddenly felt the dam of my orgasm break. I squirmed beneath him, moaning with pleasure; his rhythm never faltered. As my spasms slowed down, he withdrew, and curtly ordered me to roll over. I did, and he hooked my hips, drawing them up to him, and buried his cock into me from behind. I whimpered at the feeling of this new angle, pushing my hips against his as he pumped. His rhythm increased and I could tell he was getting close. I reached back to massage my clit and I could feel my own muscles start to spasm again. By the time he growled in my ear that he was cumming, I was orgasming, my pussy milking the juices from his deeply buried cock. He buried his face in the crook of my neck as the last of his sperm spurted inside me.
He let out a string of profanities in satisfaction as he rolled off me and I couldn’t help but laugh, still breathless. He laughed, too. He gathered me into his arms, and we made out gently as we cooled down. Later, my head on his shoulder, I wondered if he was also thinking about what an awkward hours-long drive we were going to have tomorrow, he back to his life as boss, and me to my family, as we fell asleep.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/xi2pz2/the_conference_mf_40ish_cheating_bbw_fpov
Very impressive.
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