Being Bad Never Felt So Good

[DLL]

The moment I see him, the restaurant's luxurious white room suddenly seems to shrink and the crowds around us dwindle. The sound of laughter and clinking glasses quickly fades into the background. I can hardly believe it's him. His dark hair falls irresisibly in front of his big brown eyes. He flashes me a nervous, forced smile, exposing a row of perfect teeth. He's wearing a pale gray sweater and black pants, which shows just the right amount of effort without suggesting hes conceited. He looks simply breathtaking. He's everything I pictured from our conversations and much more.
I flash a nervous grin. He flags down a waiter and asks for a couple of glasses and a bottle of their finest champagne.The awkwardness of our intitial meeting quickly fades, and things between us begin to feel like we were together for years.
We talk for what seems like hours. Then his voice trails off and he looks straight into my eyes, sending a chill up my spine."Lets go somewhere a little less frantic."
"Sounds like a good idea ," I tell him.
We leave the restaurant and start to stroll along the river, but my feet are aching so I suggest a drink somewhere where we can sit and talk quietly.We hail a cab, and ask to go to the nearest bar , which happens to be part of a swanky hotel. My mind is already going to a very naughty place, but I do my best to stay in the moment.
We have a seat at the bar.He places his hand on my thigh and smiles into the broadest grin. He takes my chin in his hands, tilts my head, and kisses me right there at the bar.The kiss is strong, absorbing and complete.And before long, we find ourselves heading to the lobby, and then taking the elevator up to a room.
Once inside the suite, I feel that I want this man so ferouciously that I don't know how I'd continue to live if he stopped kissing me now. So while he is pressed against me and warming my body with his strokes, I think god how wonderful this is....
We fall onto the bed, and he forcefully and repeatedly kisses me. My legs entwine around his, and our hands race to discover every curve and crevice of each other's body. We shed our clothes in a matter of seconds as our skin burns and melds into each other's. He kisses, strokes, and licks every inch of my body: my shoulders, my breasts, my thighs,discovering the discreet parts, my toes, the crook of my elbow, the space between my fingers..I consume him, tasting his sweat and smelling his body. I concentrate on the feel of him, which parts of his body are rough and which are smooth.




to be continued...............

 

[DLL]

I listen to his heart and breathing , both becoming quicker and less controlled.And when he finally enters me, he grabs my head in both his hands and looks deep in my eyes. I tighten my muscles in my thighs and groin in an effort to cling onto him, to keep him exactly where he is now.He begins to thrust then, becoming faster and faster and harder and harder. I can feel my body tingling, and the sensation is rising.

 

[DLL]

It's coming from my toes and circling up through my legs. But it's started in my fingers too, which are lost in his hair then running up and down his back. My mind spins with ecstasy. The intense feelings creep up my back and through my heart, filling me with sheer rapture. And when he screams out I brim over with a feeling of gladness and smile....

 

[underbraust]

I love the guy in the grey sweater. I dont know how, but you've created the man i want to be. And so simply.

 

[DLL]

Originally posted by underbraust
I love the guy in the grey sweater. I dont know how, but you've created the man i want to be. And so simply.

Hi underbraust you can add to the story if you want make up a character of who you are...the setting right now is a hotel

 

[cjh]

a prequel

The walk to the restaurant seemed to take forever. It didn’t of course. It just seemed to.

Our initial contact seemed innocuous enough: a letter from some publishing house attorney outlining a proposal to secure the rights to a book owned by one of my clients. That was followed by multiple exchanges of contract drafts, trading demands for a greater royalty, a smaller advance, the right to approve the illustrator, and so on.

All of our initial exchanges were by email: time differences and travel demands just made it easier. At first the emails seemed like any other email from any other professional. All business. Polite, efficient, but not necessarily interesting.

My client was rather difficult, though. Her father, a dead, famous and somewhat notorious author, had written one children’s book in his life. It was a book he wrote for her for her fifth birthday, and it had been published only once decades earlier. My client was not pleased with any of the suggested illustrators. So my email exchange with the publisher’s attorney lingered longer than it otherwise would have. And, along with a growing sense of exasperation, in her emails I could see slivers of her personal life.

She was obviously well educated, and well read. Once, before traveling to a business meeting in a city about an hour from where I lived, she sent an email asking for recommendations for a good restaurant to which to take a client. During the exchange that followed, I learned that she had adventurous tastes, both sophisticated and earthy. She understood the nasal burn of wasabi and the mouth burn of green chiles.

Sometimes she sent emails at the end of the workday, telling me what a prig my client was, and, inevitably, letting her professional demeanor down just a touch. It was in those emails that she revealed her fondness for full-bodied reds, her affinity for roadhouse blues, and – if I read between the lines correctly – the toll work was taking on her personal life.

I caught myself looking for her emails, trying to gather more glimpses of her personal life. I wondered about her age, about the color of her hair, about the perfume she wore. I wondered whether she was married, what her politics were, where she had grown up. I also wondered about the timbre of her voice. So I called her.

It wasn’t as if I had no reason to call her. We were ironing out the details of a contract. But from the outset, it was obvious that the call was not about whether a children’s book should really be illustrated with woodcuts.

She had such a warm voice, and an inviting laugh. It drew me in immediately. We both commented on how it seemed as if we had known one another for years, and how odd it was to finally speak with one another.

Over the course of the next few weeks, the phone was substituted for email as we bickered and negotiated. We discovered that we had common acquaintances, shared the same joys and defeats in our marriages, and that we enjoyed, increasingly, just talking.

She called late one afternoon to tell me that she had been instructed to pull the plug on the project if we could not come to terms – to agree on an illustrator – within two weeks. She also told me that she had just finished a deal on another book with a Ukrainian artist, a recent émigré who worked in egg tempera, whose paintings were luminous and mystical and the slightest bit dark. She offered to arrange a tour of his studio for my client and me.

We bemoaned what seemed to be the inevitable end of a pleasant working relationship. I felt the loss of a friend, although we’d never actually acknowledged that aspect of our relationship. Only then, certain to lose what had become a sweet constant, did our conversations turn personal. Only then did we explore our desires and needs, and did we share what must be described as intimacies.

I arranged the visit to the artist. The attorney agreed to meet us there. I suggested that she and I meet the evening before to finalize the details in event, however unlikely, my client liked the artist’s work. Thus our decision to meet at a restaurant the evening before the studio tour.

She sent a fed-ex a few days before the trip. My secretary brought it in, opened, with a bemused look on her face. It contained some illustrations that were representative of the artist’s work. These I expected. It also contained a manila envelope, sort of lumpy, marked “Personal and Confidential.” This I did not expect.

I opened the envelope and found a pair of white cotton panties. They had such a soft scent, what must have been a lingering trace of her perfume. The crotch bore the slightest discoloring and an unmistakable musk. A brief note fell from the envelope, “A momento from our evening on the phone.”

As I said, the walk to the restaurant seemed to take forever.

 

[DLL]

The First Kiss

Everything about this man disrupted my concentration- the way he smiled, his low sexy voice, and his body...oh god his body!!!
I sensed that the attraction was mutual, even though I knew getting involved with him would make my life more complicated than it already was.
The walk up to the hotel suite he shot me a flirty look, took the key out of my hand and unlocked the door. He went in first my heart racing with the anticipation of what was to come.I followed him and shut the door. Just being close to him made me breathless.My mind wandering to very dirty thoughts certainly no profession ones were even close .
He leaned closer to me placed both hands on the side of my face and said, "Guess what?". We are both not at work right now.Lets take advantage of our "down " time. The little black dress I was wearing suddenly seemed like way too much clothing. In my mind I am thinking this man is so sweet and smart and he has the power to turn me into Jell-O with just one smoldering glance. I feel his breath against my ear as his mouth touched my skin. Before I could hold back, I grab his shoulders and kissed him long and hard. The sensation was hot and wet; I felt like I was melting against him. I couldn't believe what I was doing, but he incited my most primal urges. One kiss I promise myself..then I'd go and say goodnight.
He held me tight as his mouth pressed against mine. When he pulled away, I took a deep breath.
He said to me , "Remember I was the one who started this." With that he tilted my head back with a scorching kiss that didn't leave any doubt how much he wanted me. We were frantic to get our clothes off. I pulled his sweater over his head. His chest was defined muscle..not too hairy and his skin was slightly tanned still. He was , beyond any shadow of a doubt, beautiful. He longingly pulled me back into his arms, and I felt his hot skin against mine. It wasn't enough. My problem I always want more. I wrapped my arms around his neck and run my fingers through his hair. He reached for the zipper of my dress and pulled it down to the base of my spine. "You're so beautiful," he whispers....I never felt this kind of intense desperation before. All I wanted to do was hold onto him tight and refuse to let go. I instantly froze when his strong hands slid inside my dress and he gently caressed my soft skin. His hands circled my shoulders, and when at last he touched my round , heaving breasts, I made a tiny gasp in the back of my throat..Trembling, with desire, we fall together on the bed.....

 

[sirhugs]

why are you posting this on this forum, rather than submitting it on the story side?

 

[DLL]

Originally posted by sirhugs
why are you posting this on this forum, rather than submitting it on the story side?

whats that???

 

[DLL]

ok we moved this story to SRP.....check it out there