First Meeting, Meeting Room

This is Part 2 - - - Part 1

He whispered into her ear, "Come with me sweetheart." and they went up the long flight of stairs. At the top they stood at the end of a long wide lobby with doors to meeting rooms along each side, and floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end. In a few hours the area would be teeming with conventioneers, but for now it was as if they were in a private personal place, quiet, elegant, lavish, just the two of them.

He took her by the wrist, and started walking toward the windows. In response to his grip on her wrist she fell quiet and calm, walked slowly, and lowered her gaze. When they reached the windows, he moved and stood behind her. He put his face into her hair and breathed in her scent, fresh and clean. He pushed his hands up her neck and moved her hair aside, she tilted her head forward in response to the pressure. He took his pen and made the mark -- -- on the back of her neck just below her hairline, then let his hands slide down so they rested on her shoulders. He tilted his head and kissed and then bit the nape of her neck – he felt her shiver, then a slight shake. He savored the feel of her skin on his lips, skin he had imagined for so long, finally present, under his touch, it stirred him to hear her soft murmuring sounds.

She lifted her head up slightly and broke his concentration. He moved his arms so they were wrapped around her, enveloping her arms/torso, with one arm under and one on top of her breasts. He moved his arms and squeezed them together, clamped her breasts between them. He longed to pull the top of her dress down and take a breast in each hand, clenching each between the heel of his hand and his fingers, massaging and tormenting. But again, he fought against the urgency of his desire, and loosened his hold on her. He let his arms down and took hold of a wrist with each hand, brought them behind her back and crossed her wrists at the small of her back. He held her wrists/hands there long enough that she understood to hold that posture, leaned to her ear and said, “Wait here.”

He walked down the rooms on the right side, reading meeting announcements and times, down to the end, across and back up the other side until he found one of the smaller rooms, not scheduled until 1:00 pm. He opened the door, looked in and saw a conference table, surrounded by chairs, but otherwise empty. He walked back to her where she stood as still as a statue, her wrists crossed behind her back, head down and hair over the sides of her face, humming a soft and soothing unrecognizable tune. He stepped back in front of her, lifted her chin with his fingers until she looked at him. Her gaze faltered from his and he lifted her chin again. “Are you ready now?” she smiled slightly, and he knew.


He let go of her chin, put his hand on the back of her neck and guided her to the room, opened the door. She walked in, and stopped. “Give me your hand.” and he led her to the far end of the room. He boosted her up and seated her on the end of the long conference table, legs dangling, her knees slightly apart. He stepped up to her, pushed the hem of her dress up her thighs, his legs against the end of the table between hers and pressed his thumbs into the tender flesh where her thighs met her hips, she winced. He leaned in and kissed her, biting at her lower lip until she flinched and pulled back.

He took hold of her wrists and placed her hands between her thighs. He took the thin black rope out of his back pocket, lifted her wrists up, and held her hands together. She held her wrists crossed and stared intently as he wrapped the rope around her wrists, then around itself, and tied the ends together. He let her hands back down, resting between her thighs. She looked up at him, and he saw tears in her eyes.

He stepped in close again and moved her bound hands so they were pressed up against the front of her bikinis, and held her hands in his and worked their fingers against the damp fabric. He moved his free hand to her cheek, tilted her face up more towards his. His lips moved very gently against hers, softly touched his lips to hers, and felt her breathing become more and more ragged.

His other hand pulled at the waist band of her bikinis and slipped down into the warmth and wetness. Her bound hands pressed hard against his, forcing him further and deeper. His hand cupped her pelvis, fingers forced deeper inside her. Her breathing becomes more and more ragged as she gasped for more air. He moved his mouth slightly to let her grab a bigger breath, then pressed back against her mouth and muffled her scream. Their hands remained in place, he pressed even harder and told her, “Now, more.”

Continued at Part 3