Business and Pleasure
I was leaving town the next morning.
I told him that.
I could tell that he didn’t like that, but it would have been inappropriate for him to say so, so he kept it to himself.
My work takes me all over the world. Sometimes Paris, sometimes Dubai, and sometimes Pittsburgh.
Would you believe me if I said I preferred Pittsburgh?
Maybe it has something to do with the fact that James is here. And maybe not.
Is it cruel of me to call on him every time I am in town, even though I know how he feels?
Maybe. But also, we are in our 30s. We are not so young. He could make better choices. He is a grown man.
We met in Mount Washington, which is just a short walk away from his house. We stood up in the hills under the full moon, looking down at downtown Pittsburgh, which was lit up in the night. It’s reflection gleamed in the river.
“How have you been?” He always asks.
“The same.” I always say. I don’t think I have ever once asked how he is. If he had a better opinion of himself, he would run far from me.
Soon we were standing hand in hand and he was leading me down the road to his house, where I knew that wine was waiting.
I also knew that we wouldn’t drink it.
James’ home was just like him. Good looking and non-controversial. Every time I saw him he was wearing jeans that fit him well but were not too tight, and a button-up shirt in a neutral color unbuttoned just two buttons, with the sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms.
His eyes were warm and brown and his hair was somewhere between blonde and brown. He always had the same exact haircut. It was short on the sides with some to play with on top. He could have walked into virtually any situation and fit perfectly without drawing any attention to himself.
I was braced for it. I had seen him maybe half a dozen times over the past three years. I knew that when we got through the door his hands would be on me.
I have a few men I see semi-regularly in a few cities, as my schedule allows. James is by far my favorite.
Almost the second he shut and locked the door behind him he had me pressed between him and the door. I stepped out of my heels as his hands started to roam from my shoulders to cup my ass. He squeezed my breasts, his large hands cupping them entirely as I felt his lips and teeth tease my neck and my ears.
“Fuck…” He breathed out at one point, as he started to slide his hands up my skirt. I spread my legs as wide as the fabric allowed, giving him space to do his work.
I always relished the look on his face when he got to touch me for the first time in a long time. He would always brush his fingers across my lips through my panties for a while as if he was savoring it. I imagine he might have been.
I would always have to goad him on to do more. I am not a patient woman. And I can only take so much teasing.
He slid two fingers inside me instantly, hardly even moving my panties aside. His fingers were long and he remembered where my G-spot was. He began to curl his fingers against it and I shuddered between him and the door. As he brushed against it I felt his thumb teasing my lips through my panties. I wanted to rock against him to increase pressure, but couldn’t figure out which direction to even move in.
I whined and he let out a long and low noise of triumph. I knew he always wanted me to be louder and more expressive and more out of control. The more my will control slipped, the more he would reward me. He increased the pressure of his fingers inside me and fully pushed my panties to the side. His thumb brushed against my clit every so often as he worked me ruthlessly inside with his other fingers.
It felt endless. It felt like a second. I was on the brink of orgasming when he stopped.
We locked eyes. I was about to tell him the fuck off.
Then he sank to his knees.
He unzipped my skirt and it fell over my hips and down to the floor. I stepped out of it.
He pulled my panties off of me so quickly that I wondered if they snapped. He lifted my foot in his hands.
James kissed my ankle before throwing it over his shoulder and kneeling between my thighs. I was aching and empty where his fingers had been and when he slid them back inside me I almost sighed with relief.
When he pressed his tongue against my clit and started to flick it in time with his fingering I couldn’t help but let out a long low whine.
It felt so good.
Sure, I had Yogesh in Dubai and Kenneth in New York City and whoever else wherever else.
James eats pussy so well that is almost offensive. He once brought me to orgasm so many times in a night that I started to cry.
I was becoming limp. I could feel my thighs shaking. He was bracing most of my weight on his face and only finger fucking me harder. I could feel my inner walls shaking around his fingers without rhyme or reason. I was close and he was only bringing me closer. He sucked on my clit, and I wailed. I was dripping down his face.
I leaned down to hold his head in my hands so I could grind against his face. He didn’t stop me.
I noticed some vague sensation against my leg and looked down to see that he was rubbing his hard cock against my leg. He was pressed almost entirely against me.
I lightly scratched my nails against his scalp, playing with his hair as he ruthlessly finger and tongue fucked me.
I must have finally made the noises he was looking for because he started to pound my g-spot with his fingers. My whole body was shaking.
When I finally orgasmed, it crashed into me from head to toe like a wave of searing pleasure. I felt everything and nothing as my body shook against the door.
I must have squirted because he was wet in spots down to his chest.
I was sliding down the door and about to hit the floor when he scooped me up. He carried me from the doorway to his bedroom, where he laid me on his large bed. I quaked with aftershocks as he undressed.
James was hairy, and I loved it. He undressed in seconds and then was naked in bed with me. I put a hand in his chest hair immediately and started to play with it, making little swirls as I pleased.
His dick was rock hard against my leg, and I had no intention of touching it. Outside of when he fucked me, I don’t think I had ever touched it at all.
He really deserved better.
It was only a matter of time before he crawled on top of me and spread my legs. He lined himself up and slid inside me and it took me a long moment to adjust.
He was bigger than I was used to. I needed a second to catch my breath. As my chest heaved, he unbuttoned my shirt and unclasped my bra. He let out a little noise of appreciation.
James started to move, and I lost coherency. He must have spent a while eating me out because he was fucking me with wild desperation that was driving me absolutely insane. He slammed into me like he was dying for it, and I wound my legs around him to get him even deeper inside.
I was hanging off of him as he pounded into me. I was digging my nails into his back and biting his shoulders. His noises of pleasure reverberated throughout my entire body as I hung off of his torso and he fucked into me again and again.
Suddenly he was sitting upright, and I was speared on his dick. I rocked back and forth as we kissed, totally intertwined.
I squeezed down on his cock inside me and he let out a strangled wail. I did it again and he almost collapsed against me.
In hindsight, I should have stopped doing it so he would have lasted and kept fucking me well into the night, but I couldn’t resist wringing all of those noises out of him.
I squeezed again and he came with a strangled shout. I felt him filling me up inside.