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Co-Worker Makes Her Move Ch. 02

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It’s weird making small talk during a lengthy elevator ride, just after you have had a dirty, raunchy blow job from a beautiful woman in the back of a taxi. You want to come up with something pithy and clever to keep the vibe going, but you are concerned that anything less than brilliant will ruin the moment and your slam-dunk night of hot, hotel sex will evaporate in an instant, with a little “poof” sound effect to go with it. So you say nothing. The deal is signed at this point. You don’t want to risk buying the car back from the customer, as it were.

As we rode the elevator up to Lisa’s hotel room, which was on a high floor, other guests left us one by one until we finally had the place to ourselves, so to speak. One older gentleman was just blatantly checking out Lisa’s ass during the entire ride up. He winked at me on his way out the door, which made me chuckle at the thought of turning into an old horn-dog myself one day.

I noticed an advertisement on the little TV screen next to the elevator doors. The venue was the hotel’s penthouse bar. Hmmmmm. The ad was a 30 second slide show, depicting an impossibly cool atmosphere complete with dim lighting and sinewy, beautifully groomed patrons laughing, drinking, and exchanging flirty side-glances.

Who were these people from the ad! They don’t exist in real life! I have been on a million business trips and rarely have I encountered this hypothetical group of “pretty people” hanging out at the bar of a big hotel in a big city on a typical weeknight.

I searched my memory for any recall of a group setting where every single person is fabulous. The only thing I could come up with was a wild Tuesday night in Memphis – at the Peabody Hotel – several years ago, where a crew of young Northwest Airlines flight attendants were holding court at a rooftop event called Sunset Serenade. Unfortunately, those scenarios don’t present themselves very often. I now realize they are the exception that proves the rule.

While I was having my Seinfeld-esque moment, silently musing about the power of suggestive advertising to make us all feel envious about what everyone else is doing, Lisa put her arm around my waist and pulled me in for a clinch.

“Wow, I am still buzzing from our little interlude in the cab. How much do you think the cab driver saw,” she cooed.

“Oh, he saw plenty. I am sure he would have liked a bigger tip,” I replied, “but that was all the cash that I had with me,” I replied. “At least he didn’t wreck. That was a real possibility for a few moments.”

Still mindful that our “little interlude” was entirely one-sided, I formulated a plan to search for those “pretty people” from the advertisement. I needed to see if my theory that they don’t exist still held true. Besides, the beauty of this idea was that I could scout for an opportunity to keep the sex-in-public electricity going for a little while longer.

“Why don’t we go and check out that view? It looks amazing,” I suggested.

Lisa smiled at me and said “ok, let’s have a drink. I just hope we don’t run into anybody from the company.”

I hadn’t thought about that, but what the hell. The possibility of a chance encounter with any of our local colleagues was minimal, but it would just add to the naughtiness and kink factor of what we had been doing a few minutes ago. It was safe to assume istanbul escort that many of these guys had fantasized about fucking Lisa, while being forced to ignore those urges and make polite conversation with her at a company meeting.

We walked into the bar and, surprisingly, there were lots of people still there. Nobody from the ad, of course, but it was a relatively attractive crowd all things considered. Music was playing in the background – somewhat loudly – and there was a buzz of crowd noise that hit us at the door. With nobody at the hostess stand, we made our way to the bar and I ordered limoncello martini’s for the both of us.

While we sipped and talked, I noticed that Lisa was scanning the room to see if she recognized anyone there. If she did, she didn’t acknowledge it, so I figured the coast was clear for whatever was next.

We spun around on our seats and faced the open room, marveling at the lighting and décor. It was dark and very tastefully done. The furnishings consisted of both low-slung lounging areas and secluded booths. The place seemed to have a vaguely Asian design theme yet was clubby too. The only thing missing was a dance floor. The bar ran the length of an entire interior wall, so there was no problem finding seating space there. Opposite the bar area, there was an exterior wall with floor to ceiling windows that provided a dramatic view. It was a clear night, and the skyline had a soft, yellow-orange glow from the concentration of lights all around us.

We ordered another round of martini’s and walked over to the windows to take in the view. We stood there silently. It was certainly a long, long way from the small beach town where I grew up down in Florida.

I put my arm around Lisa and said, “so this is why they can get away with charging $28 for a martini.” She grinned at me and gave me a quick kiss on the lips.

“Well, it also takes some effort to haul those liquor bottles all the way up here,” she added “The hourly rate for the delivery people is probably $28. Blame the United Liquor Bottle Hauler’s Brotherhood of America, Local 229.”

“Well played,” I said. “I can’t top that.”

Suddenly, I could sense that somebody was standing right behind us. I turned around, half expecting it to be somebody from work who was going to crash our little moment high above the streets.

“Are you folks enjoying yourselves? I can see that you have fresh drinks. Would you like me to show you to a table? It was a waiter, who stood just far enough away from us that it wasn’t awkward. But he was close to crossing over that invisible line. Lisa didn’t seem to mind, as he was a very handsome guy. Movie star handsome, actually, with the requisite square jaw and dazzling white teeth. Probably college-aged. She gave him that split-second up/down evaluation that all girls use. Good for checking out guys or estimating the level of female “competition” around the room. Needless to say, he passed.

“Yes, that would be nice,” I replied.

“I’m Hank,” he said, “please follow me.”

With Hank leading the way, Lisa took my hand and headed for a booth in a dark corner that was perfect for an intimate conversation. I pinched her butt while we were walking and she gave me a little wiggle.

We sat there for a while, just taking in the atmosphere and making light conversation. escort bayan Hank came back by to check on us and I noticed that he appreciated Lisa’s touching him on the hand when he returned with a glass of water that she requested. That was the way Lisa behaved around me too, touchy and tactile, and it was a huge turn-on because you didn’t have to wonder if she would be receptive to your advances. The answer was given before the question was asked.

The table was lower than normal and the booth seats were set down in a type of pit, situated a half-step below the grade of the aisle. Sort of like the seating in a Japanese steak house where you take off your shoes and sit cross-legged. Again, vaguely Asian.

“Lisa, I want you to do something for me. Nobody will be able to see. Well, maybe Hank. You seem to like him, so it may not matter,” I said.

“Ok,” Lisa said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Take off your jeans and hand me your underwear.” I watched intently as her expression changed from nonchalance to surprise. Nevertheless, Lisa began squirming side-to-side in her seat as she shimmied off her jeans. We never broke eye-contact the whole time. Next came her panties. When she had them off, she tapped my hand under the table and gave them to me. They were plain white, lacy, hipster style panties. Very small, very sexy, and damp.

“Now what,” she asked?

“Spread your legs and touch yourself down there,” I commanded. “I want to watch as you make yourself cum in public.”

Lisa’s face flushed. She was naked from the waist down. Her eyes darted around the room. True enough, nobody was paying attention. The place was loud. With fire in her eyes, Lisa made serious eye-contact with me and nodded. We fixed our gaze on each other and did not look away. She slipped down in her seat, but then she hesitated.

“Before I do this, you have to take a quiz,” she said.

“What do I win if I get the answer correct?” I asked.

“You get to peek under the table and see my pussy,” Lisa replied.

“What if I’m wrong?” I asked.

“You still get to peek under the table and see my pussy,” she answered.

“Ok, what’s the question?” I was getting a hard-on and getting antsy.

“Landing strip or Dorito chip? Which one do you think I have?” she asked.

“Wow. It could go either way here. I am going to guess Dorito chip.” I answered.

“Why don’t you see for yourself, just to make sure,” she smiled.

I leaned over as if picking up a napkin, and looked under the table. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see. I emerged from under the table and told her that I couldn’t tell, which was reassuring to her since she had no pants on – in a crowded bar no less.

Lisa handed me my cell phone. “Always be prepared, boy scout!” she stated. This was a good rule to live by in general and an excellent one at the moment. With that, I turned on the camera function, reached under the table, and took a picture. The flash went off, looking like a miniature thunderstorm under the table, set against the dark lighting of the bar.

Twenty feet away, unbeknownst to us, Hank was watching. I looked at my phone and just laughed. The screen was filled with pussy. I couldn’t have aimed the camera better if I had used a tripod. Sure enough, Lisa had a small Dorito chip down there, neatly escort istanbul trimmed and light brown.

Lisa began to manipulate herself, very slowly. She looked around the room for a moment, but nobody was watching. Or so we thought. Hank moved closer, now maybe 15 feet away. He busied himself wiping down a nearby table and watched with great interest. Lisa was beginning to breathe more quickly at that point and her arm started to move more rapidly – almost involuntarily – to her own stimulation of her clit. It looked like she was strumming an air guitar. Building toward a huge climax, Lisa clenched her jaw fiercely to keep from yelping out loud. She uttered a guttural “arrrrrr” as she reached under her top with her free hand and began pinching her right nipple. It was stunning to watch. There were maybe 40 people in the place, some only a few feet away from us, and Lisa was sitting there with no clothing on below the waist, getting herself off. Nobody noticed. In fact, it was weird that nobody noticed. It was like we were invisible. I pinched myself to make sure this was really happening.

Lisa bucked a little bit under the table. She finally out a muffled “uhhhhhhh”. It was a truly sexy sound, that deeply satisfying grunt that follows an orgasm. I was absentmindedly rubbing my cock while this was going on, and I nearly jizzed in my pants when Lisa came. Craziness. This was one for the old memory bank. I now had enough masturbation material in my head to last a lifetime.

As we both climbed down the sexual ladder and began breathing normally again, Lisa and I just looked at each other, not saying a word. What was the point? This was a moment that was unscripted and wacky and dirty and wonderful. Words would only cheapen the experience.

As if on cue, Hand appeared and asked “Can I get you two anything else? ” He had an unmistakable tone to his voice that let me know in an instant. He knew everything, saw everything, and probably got off on it just as much as I did.

Lisa froze, suddenly very aware that she was still naked underneath the table. “Water, please.”

“Sure thing,” said Hank. He headed towards the bar and we watched him to see if would turn around and look back.

“Do you think he is on to us?” asked Lisa.

“Yes. I am sure of it,” I answered. “But you like him, I can tell. Basically, you just gave a college kid a huge thrill. No big deal. He can tell all his buddies about it”

I was trying to reassure her, because for the second time tonight, Lisa had performed a very public sex act and I didn’t want her to regret it. After all, we were going to be here for the next few days. The possibilities were mind-boggling.

“I am going to put my jeans back on now,” Lisa said. As she was buttoning up, Hank was on his way back to the table with her water.

“Here you go,” he said cheerfully.

“Hank, Lisa was just telling me how much she likes you,” I said. “If you are planning on telling your friends about her, you may need these to convince them that she is real” With that, I handed Lisa’s panties to Hank. He took them, gingerly, and looked at Lisa with a confused smile, as if he was asking her for an ok.

“It’s alright,” she said “But please tell me that you know better than to run your mouth to your co-workers. Not a word to any of them, right?”

“Of course,” Hank replied, with Lisa’s panties now safely stuffed in his left front pocket.

“Good. Glad we have that understanding, since we are going to be in town until Thursday,” Lisa continued. “Guys that can keep secrets just might get rewarded.”

To Be Continued

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