Under The Table

James pulled the big Chrysler to the front entrance of the Ritz Carlton, then turned his head and chuckled as he watched Louisa pull down the visor mirror to check her makeup for perhaps the tenth time during the short drive from the office to the hotel.

“You look beautiful,” he said, and Louisa blushed at such an effusive comment coming from her boss, a recently-divorced man twenty-five years her senior. He looked pretty damned nice as well, she thought, in his dark blue suit and red tie. She was the first to admit that she loved a man in a suit, and he filled his out perfectly. The invitation had said ‘cocktail attire’; she hadn’t known what that meant, but hoped her green halter dress and black shawl would not be out of place.

It was the MAEM Awards. Though she’d asked repeatedly, Louisa couldn’t remember what the acronym stood for, but she knew it had something to do with marketing. She had only worked at the magazine for a month or so when James asked if she’d like to attend the dressy shindig with the rest of the staff, and naturally, she had said yes. Not because she gave a rat’s ass about the advertising business, of course, but because it would give her an opportunity to make her move. After tonight, she might well be unemployed, riding the next bus back to Indiana. But after weeks of analyzing and fanaticizing, she was ready to risk it all.

Inside, about six hundred people, mostly impossibly attractive, impeccably dressed and coifed advertising executives, packed the Grand Hall, milling about and making liberal use of the bar. The theme was something Spanish-related, apparently, as a salsa band blared and flamenco dancers whirled on a raised platform at the front of the room. Then, directed by some imperceptible signal, everyone broke from their chatty clusters to array themselves at tables of ten. Louisa slid into the chair beside her boss as the lights dimmed, a massive screen appeared, and what promised to be an interminable multimedia presentation of winners began.

“Get comfortable – this is going to take a while,” he said to her as he poured her a glass of wine. Had he been keeping track, he would have realized it was her fourth.

Beneath the table, James’s legs bumped Louisa’s, but neither of them pulled back or muttered apologies. They were knee to knee, wool suit pants touching silken leg. Impulsively, beneath the folds of the tablecloth, Louisa gently put her hand on his upper leg and squeezed.

James glanced at her, a bit surprised, and smiled. Louisa smiled in return and moved her hand slightly, a bit higher.

As the hubbub around them continued, and as the Chablis worked its magic, Louisa felt herself grow moist at their proximity, and excited at the prospect of forbidden touch. On James’s left sat Bebe, his publisher, and around the table sat the president of an advertising agency and partners in two real estate firms. They chatted amongst themselves, chuckling and pouring more wine.

Louisa’s hand hesitated, then moved up further until she encountered an obstruction that was clearly not bunched fabric. He was erect, and his organ was splayed across his thigh, stretching and straining to reach her waiting fingers. How far would he let her go? She glanced at him and noticed that his forehead was perspiring as he attempted to make casual conversation. But he made no move to stop her.

So she moved her hand again, her fingers gripping his zipper and slowly pulling it down. He seemed to take a deep breath and close his eyes, just for a second. Then he valiantly resumed a conversation about escalating home prices in east Orlando. Reaching inside and pushing away a second layer of softer material, Louisa grasped the shaft and pulled him free.

He was thick – her fingers were a fraction of an inch shy of totally encircling him – but that was moderated by a more modest length. As she explored him further, she encountered the bulbous, velvety-smooth head sitting atop the shaft. Running her thumb over the tip, she found a drop of slick seepage, and spread it liberally. Reluctant to move her hand too rapidly for fear of calling attention to her ministrations, Louisa continued holding the shaft tightly in her fist, rapidly rolling her thumb over the increasingly swollen and lubricated head. She knew it was the most sensitive part of the penis – almost too sensitive to stimulate directly – but still, he made no move to stop her.

Taking a sip of wine and trying desperately to seem interested in Bebe’s chatter, James took a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed at his forehead. At a break in the conversation, Louisa leaned over and, her lips tantalizingly close to his ear, whispered, “I want to make you come. Put your handkerchief down there to catch it. ”

James said nothing, but discreetly took the handkerchief and laid it in his lap, placing it atop his organ and the hand that grasped it.

Sensing that it would take a bit more to put him over the edge, Louisa slowly slid her fist from the base to the tip, gently pumping until she felt him grow thicker still in her hand. He enclosed the handkerchief around the tip as the spasms began, releasing stream after stream of hot semen. Designed more for show than utility, the handkerchief caught some, but the rest oozed over her hand as she squeezed, released, and squeezed again.

“Would you like some coffee, sir?”

Gripping the table and grimacing, staring straight ahead, James didn’t hear the server holding the stainless steel pot.

“James, pay attention,” said Louisa, speaking up for the first time since they had sat down. “Are you thinking about work again? You’ve got to learn to relax.” Beneath the tablecloth, she felt him shrink and retreat, and she carefully tucked him back inside.

“Let’s get out of here,” James suggested when the server departed. “I mean, do you want to?”

A coy smile played upon Louisa’s lips. She’d dreamed about doing these things to her boss, creating elaborate scenarios in her mind as she lay in bed, a hand pressed between her legs, but had never imagined that she would ever become emboldened enough to act upon them. She traced circles, then the letters of her name on James’ knee, and replied, “Of course I want to, silly.”

The awards ceremony had just begun and their category had not yet been presented, but at the moment, that was of little concern to James. He bid farewell to his dinner companions, tossed off an excuse to Bebe, and rose from the table. If not for the intoxicating combination of wine and Louisa’s touch, he would have realized that this departure appeared somewhat suspect, but that was of little concern to him as well and he followed her out of the banquet hall.

How convenient it was that the gala was held in a hotel, Louisa thought, as James crossed the sprawling lobby to check into a room. She hung back, trying to look inconspicuous, but found it hard not to giggle. She had wiped the product of James’ climax on her napkin, which she had then tossed on the chair upon their departure, and the thought of the hapless busboy who would find it was almost too much. But she successfully composed herself as he returned to her side, room key in hand.

James and Louisa strode casually to the elevator, but as soon as the doors drew closed behind them, they pounced upon each other. The meeting of lips was tender at first, then aggressive as their tongues thrust and swirled with abandon. Her arms flung around him, Louisa ground her body against his, desperate to relieve the urgent throbbing in her womanhood. She tensed with anticipation as his hand reached beneath her skirt, but it dropped away again as the elevator came to a stop on the third floor and a middle-aged woman holding an ice bucket walked on.

“No machine on my floor,” she explained to the disheveled couple, now standing a respectable distance apart. Another floor and she was gone again, and they snapped back into their desperate embrace as the elevator climbed to the top of the building.

James fumbled with the plastic key, one of those electronic, credit-card-style devices to be inserted in a doorfront slot. The tiny light flashed an annoying red. “Goddamn it,” he said, tugging at the door handle and rattling the frame.

Louisa giggled, took the key, turned it over and inserted it again. This time, the light flashed green, and the door opened. “You had it backward.”

“I suppose I’m kind of anxious to get in,” he replied as they entered and surveyed the room. A king-sized bed, plush with a billowy, white comforter and an assortment of oversized pillows beckoned. The door closed behind them, plunging the room into cozy and welcoming darkness. James rushed to the window to pull the curtains against the sinking sun, then noticed the view. There in the distance, far below and toward the horizon, was Cinderella’s castle and the Epcot globe, two tacky but ubiquitous tourist-town icons.

Louisa stood by his side. “It’s pretty.”

“No, it’s ugly.”

“You’re right, it’s ugly,” she agreed with a laugh. “I just didn’t want to insult your town. After all – South Bend!” The downtrodden, bucolic town was behind her now. He hadn’t rebuffed her advances, hadn’t plucked her hand from his leg with a scornful glance. It thrilled her to think that maybe he’d dreamt of this moment, too.

They turned to face one another, and didn’t speak for several seconds. Then James put his hand on her cheek and bent down to kiss her. She turned her face upward and their lips met, then parted. Through his trousers, James’s erection strained against the wool and nestled against her abdomen, and he wondered if she could feel it.

His question was answered when her hand dropped to his waist, then below. She rubbed his inner thigh, then moved quickly to the cylindrical bulge, which pointed awkwardly upward and to the right. “There you are,” she whispered as her palm caressed its length.

James took a deep breath and slowly raised Louisa’s skirt. He felt the baby smoothness of her upper leg, then moved his hand toward the front, where he felt found a thick, luxurious triangle of hair and a warm, damp opening below. Going commando, he thought. God, she felt good.

He moved his hand down further, until his fingers slid into the moist folds below and were engulfed there. Louisa gasped and trembled as his two middle fingers began to move, slowly at first, then in a faster, tighter, more circular motion.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, breaking a kiss and burying her face in his chest. “Oh, Jesus. Stay right there. It’s going to be huge.” Louisa’s breathing became unsteady and her moans became louder. Suddenly, she let out a cry and her fingers dug into his shoulder. Her knees buckled as wave after wave of almost unbearable pleasure washed over her.

With his arm around her waist, James held her upright as she gasped, the orgasm seeming to peak, retreat, then peak again. She thought for a moment that she was going to faint. He kept his fingers resting at the center of her passion, but held them still as her breathing slowly returned to normal and she found her balance.

“That was incredible,” she said, then kissed him deeply. “I didn’t know it would happen – well, so quickly.”

“It’s fine,” he replied. “You’re not finished yet.”

“No, I know I’m not. But now you. Let me please you.”

Being a man, and a relatively sane one at that, James did not protest to Louisa’s whispered plea. Her small, graceful hands quickly unfastened his trousers again, then reached inside to grasp his rigid manhood. It was already slick and glistening, and she stroked the flesh with a teasing finger. “Hello again,” she murmured.

They took a few backward steps; James sat on the edge of the bed and after a brief kiss, Louisa dropped down to kneel between his legs. After giving him a winning smile, she took his head in her mouth, gently caressing it with her tongue. She wrapped her hand firmly around the base of his erection, and began to pump with a steady speed. James’s breaths were quick and heavy as she leaned in further, slowly consuming him entirely. She dragged her tongue down the underside of his length, then pulled back slightly as she felt him grow stiffer still. Her hand resumed its massage and her tongue swirled anxiously.

As she worked, she again felt herself throb insistently for him. Without breaking rhythm, she spread her legs just far enough apart for her free hand to drop between them. She ran a finger up her damp channel to her protruding little clit, giving it the attention it craved as James looked on in appreciative delirium. Glancing up, she saw that his eyes were half-closed and his lips slightly parted, but for a moment, he met her gaze and smiled. Soon, she realized, she would taste what she’d been hungering for.

After a deep, low groan, he climaxed, a series of spasms shuddering throughout his body. Louisa gulped down the salty-sweet release and sighed happily for him, taking almost as much pleasure in his orgasm as she had her own. Lightly, sweetly, she kissed his sensitive tip once more, then climbed up to join him on the bed. “Was that all right?” she asked.

“Wow!” James exclaimed breathlessly as he lay down, literally and figuratively drained. “I tried to hold back, but I couldn’t. Did you mind?”

She shook her head with a smile. “I wanted you to.” Sitting Indian-style, she held his damp, deflating organ in her hand. The thick, throbbing hard-on that had dwarfed her hand and filled her mouth was now small and soft, the head shyly retreating into folds of loose skin.

“It’s not much good to you that way,” James remarked, nodding toward his incredible shrinking penis. “I may need a little time before…”

“We’ve got plenty of time,” Louisa said, gently squeezing him between her thumb and forefinger and, somehow, coaxing one last drop of fluid from the tip. Then she reluctantly let go and lay down beside him, kissing his cheek.

As they embraced, they moved to the center of the bed and began to remove their clothing. James reached behind her neck to undo the halter top of her dress, letting it fall away to reveal a pair of flawless, alabaster breasts. They were larger than he expected, and tipped with small, rosy pink nipples that hardened at his touch. He kissed one, then the other, flicking his tongue over the tiny points and causing her to moan. He wriggled out of his shirt and pants, and they were skin to skin for the first time. After another deep kiss, he moved down her tiny, curvaceous body, teasing her with his lips, until he reached her crotch, still open and inviting.

He kissed her there, gently at first, then harder, his mouth engulfing her and his tongue finding her most sensitive pleasure point. The taste was musky and warm as she began to grind herself against his mouth and chin, gasping and sighing as another climax began to build. Instinctively, Louisa lifted her legs into the air to give him better access, and his tongue began to work faster and more frantically. As the point of no return approached, she touched her breast and squeezed the tip with one hand while the other hand reached below and grabbed a clump of James’s thick, black hair, pressing him further into her.

When her orgasm came, it was even more mind-shattering than the first had been. As it peaked then exploded, she made a noise that was something like a scream, but somehow more primal, from deep inside her chest. The convulsions continued for as long as James’ tongue continued to work. “My God, I can’t stand anymore. Stop for a minute. If I come like that again, I’m afraid it will kill me.”

“But what a way to go,” James said, lifting his head and gently stroking her tangled pubic mound with his hand.

“You got that right,” Louisa replied as she sat upright and reclined against a mountain of pillows. James sat beside her, put his arm around her shoulder, and she rested her head against his chest. “But I want more. I want you inside me.”

“Hey, I thought you said we had plenty of time,” James reminded her. “I’m an old guy, remember?”

She looked down as saw that his flaccid member had already plumped up a bit. She held it gently and felt it firm up even more. “I can get you back there again,” she said, lowering her head and burying him in her mouth.

He was easy to swallow in a flaccid state, and Louisa took him all the way to the hilt, her nose buried in a mat of curly black hair. She swirled her tongue around its spongy shaft, savoring its softness. Then she slowly pulled back, the head lodged between her lips, stretching it like a tiny slinky. It stiffened and expanded in her mouth, growing thicker and longer. The head, small as an acorn just moments before, swelled and ripened like a plum, and the folds of loose skin became taut.

“See? There it is,” Louisa said, clearly proud of her ability to excite him.

“Jesus, babe, you’re going to wear it out,” he chuckled.

“Like you said, what a way to go,” she answered as she gripped his length with two hands, one atop the other, and began to move them slowly in unison, up and down.

“Is that good?”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

Louisa smiled then changed her grip, interlocking her fingers and encircling the base. The strokes were tighter now, and faster. James’ breathing became ragged.

“I want to be up there,” Louisa said, careful to slow her pumping motion before he ejaculated again.

“Come on then. I can’t last too long.”

“You won’t have too,” she promised as she straddled him, using her hand to guide him to her moist opening. She felt his head part her swollen lips, paused for a second, and then slid down his length until their public bones touched, their hair intermingled.

“Oh, Jesus,” she whispered as his hardness filled her. She began to rock back and forth, slowly at first, then faster as his hips bucked to match her rhythm. His hands reached up to caress her breasts as they jiggled and bounced. Louisa grabbed the headboard to steady herself for the explosion that was just seconds away and told him she was getting close.

“Me too,” said James.

“Hold out for just a minute,” she pleaded. “That’s all I need. Oh my God.”

Soon she felt a familiar warmth in her genital area, and a tingling that spread from her loins to her breasts. So close. Just a minute more. Then, suddenly, she was coming – fast and hard. It wasn’t unexpected, but it was quicker than she anticipated, and more intense than ever. This time, she did scream.

Indeed, Louisa was so transported by her own orgasm that she didn’t notice James tense up, moan, and release. “That was it,” he said, grabbing her hips and slowing the circular, grinding motion that had sent them both over the edge. “Sweet suffering Jesus, I can’t believe it.”

“Me neither,” said Louisa, breathlessly. “Let me stay up here for just a minute longer, though.”

She felt his hardness break and the fullness inside her diminish, but she continued to rub herself against his crotch, a bit more slowly and carefully now so his flaccid penis wouldn’t slip out. “I think I can come again,” she said, sounding a bit surprised. “Please, help me do it again. Then I’ll give you a rest.”

“Hey, who do you think you’re giving orders to?” James asked mischievously. “I’m the bossman, aren’t I?”

“Not here, not tonight,” Louisa retorted, rocking back and forth against him. “Please?”

James reached across his stomach and caressed her at the junction of their bodies, his fingers rubbing the exposed outer lips while she moved her hips. In seconds, she began to tremble, her upper body flushed red and she came again, although less explosively this time. Finally, she collapsed on the bed beside him, laying her head on his shoulder and running her hand along his chest. She rested her left leg over his right and flashed him a killer smile. “Okay, now you get a break.”