tagErotic CouplingsA Certain Negotiating Position

A Certain Negotiating Position

byminutes2memories©

A certain negotiating position...

They agreed to meet at the hotel 30 minutes before their meeting would get underway. The hotel lobby was relatively empty for a Thursday morning, and they spotted each other simultaneously upon his entry. She got up from a leather lounge where she'd been randomly flicking through inance fashion magazine, and moved in his direction. Without word or gesture, he led her to the hotel coffee shop. She followed a good distance behind, but to anyone really watching, she still followed.

Having spoken to the young waitress, a friendly girl with gorgeous teeth and a shortfall of height, he took a booth in the corner. Without turning to acknowledge the waitress, who had returned once more to the task of napkin geometry, she walked purposefully to a recently occupied far corner of the restaurant, swung into the booth and sat across from him.

Seemingly immersed in the menu, he appeared not to notice her arrival, although a close observer could perhaps detect a slight stiffening of his muscles, as he straightened his body just slightly in the confined space of the booth. Not one to wait, she slipped a shoe off and immediately placed her now stockinged foot against his cock. He shifted in his seat, and looked up with a highly unconvincing "what the fuck?" look as she started to work purposefully through his trousers on his awakening manhood.

"What can I get yous?"

"Oh, I'll have a double shot flat white," he replied, in a voice only slightly strained with tension.

"And for you Miss?" This girl was just dripping with formality and style.

"Just a glass of spring water will be fine." And with that the waitress left, unaware that the whole time she had been working this man's cock over. This man whom she'd only met three times, but had fucked twice already. This man who could make or break her career and her marriage, whom she knew to be arrogant and an habitual devotee of l'affaire. Yet here she was, desperate for him, and intending even now, to fuck him before their important contract negotiation. The negotiation that would see her pitted against this man; her career, and that of so many of her co-workers, on the line.

Suddenly, and in a way seemingly designed to break her reverie and the control she had until now exhibited, he grabbed her ankle under the table. Looking her in the face for the first time today, (he was even more handsome then she'd remembered), he mumbled the two words that could end her career. "Follow me."

She'd come this far and yet the doubts that had written themselves into every contractual sentence, exposed her femininity and given lie to her past persona in her dealings with her own staff, and kept her awake for hour after endless hour, returned again. Those doubts that were, she knew, the work of the angel on her right shoulder and yet, she knew equally well, would always be overcome by the work of the devil on her left. No matter how logical an argument she could mount for having nothing to do with this man, she ached for him, nightly and certainly now. The devil would win once more.

She stood and followed him out of the coffee shop. Leaving a waitress, for whom bewilderment was a way of life, suitably bewildered.

Watching as she walked, she saw him stop, look about, and then quickly enter the disabled toilets past the main hotel lift lobby. Looking about her, she followed his path by the lifts, and into the tiled surrounds of the hotel amenities.

Before she was even fully aware of his presence, and before either one of them locked the door, he grabbed her and pressed his mouth to her lips. . He moved his hand up inside her top. He felt her nipples hardening under his touch and her breathing speed up in time with his own. He was pressed hard against her, their hearts beating so fast she was sure the whole world would hear the low sounds. As they pressed ever more tightly into one another, a bump came from just outside the door. With more of a startle then an heroic movement, he placed his hand against the door and quickly rotated the door lock. The door pushed against the lock, once, then twice, and then silence.

"Fuck public hotel toilets!" she whispered.

"I thought we were?" he replied as his hands were all over her now and then his mouth; kissing, sucking, licking her breasts. She could feel his hardness against her pussy as they rubbed randomly and roughly together hard up against the cubicle wall. His foot slipped and he stumbled. "Fuck these cubicles!"

"I thought we were?" She giggled and grabbed him by the crotch, a little roughly with impatience.

Her body alive now with excitement, her doubts evaporated, and her mind now wholly consumed with the need for sex. Simple, wanton, down-and-dirty fucking. Two hundred and eighty million dollar contract negotiations were due to begin in just ten minutes and yet this experienced, responsible, workaholic executive was trading preparation time and suitable professional composure for a quick fuck in a public toilet. With the opposition no less! The power this man and his promise of sex held over her was, it may be said, not inconsequential.

He came at her again, his passion gripping him and then her. Taking her lead, he pushed his hand up against her pussy, feeling its heat through the thin cotton of her skirt. She in turn pushed against him, wanting it, something, anything that would sate this out-of-fucking-control desire she felt. Raggedly, he grabbed her by the arse and with more willpower than skill pulled her skirt up around her waist. She shuddered as the air hit her hot lust, revealing her bare desire to him. "Came prepared I see" he breathed in her ear as his frenzied mouth moved over her face, lips, neck and beyond. "Prepared to come actually" she rejoined in a voice much louder than she meant, passion overruling privacy for the moment.

"Alright you girl scout, look out" and his hand was on her, pressing against her clit and her whole cunt.

Oh fuck that feels good, she thought and then said loudly, her voice bouncing off the tiles. And then his fingers were inside her - slowly at first, then faster - he was using his fingers in a way she'd never...oh fuck, he was using his fingers...oh yeah, finger fuck me, go on. His palm continued to work her clit as his fingers did unbelievable things inside her. Jesus this was good. "Yes! Yes! Oh God, I'm coming. Fuck yes, I'm coming!"

She staggered against the wall, feeling no pain but awakening to the sensation of cold tiles against her hot skin. She grabbed his head in her hands and kissed him. Slowly and deeply. She felt his ragged breathing and passion. Fuck that was good. The words just kept rolling about in her head, over and over again as she grabbed for his pants. Fuck that was good. Recklessly and with all the lack of care her passion could muster, she dragged down his suit pants and pulled herself onto him in one gasping movement, literally leaping on his rock hard cock and straddling him with her legs.

"Oh shit, you feel so fucking hot and tight..." He drove into her as far as he could and held her there a moment. He wanted to move slowly, to lengthen the experience, but he found himself moving again, faster and faster, her gasps and breaths in his ear. They were thrashing against the cubicle door - he was holding her arse and it was soft and feminine and sexy and he could feel the arch in her back when she thrust against him. She felt him inside her, the passion, the male power, inside her, using her, giving to her. Their world folded in on itself and became their bodies, the sum of their ragged breaths, muttered oaths and beseeching calls to the Almighty. Vaguely she sensed the presence of someone nearby, the sound of echoed footsteps, but only vaguely, and as if through a fog. Then they heard the toilet door bang against the lock. "Fuck!" he said.

"Okay" she giggled too noisily and pushed herself against him. They were still breathing in unison, loud, heaving breaths - they were paralysed - with him still inside her. He reached down and played with her clit, his hand wedged between their hot bodies. She gave him a 'what the fuck?' look but didn't mean it. Her body gave her away as she felt herself morphing into another orgasm. She let go and became it. Just one big fucking orgasm, with deep gasping sighs of passion for anyone and everyone to hear. For the second time in minutes she drowned in the feeling. Slowly, ever so slowly, coming down from the best goddamn orgasm she could remember. He moved against her and inside her, impatient with passion. Fuck, she thought, I'm so wasted, but I'm so hot and randy right now. They started moving again, slowly at first, but then more rapidly and noisily. "Sssh!"

"You're telling me to be quiet?!" he whispered in her ear, but slowed down again, still hot and hard within her. There were voices outside now. Some form of discussion was going on and the incumbents could only wonder whether their privacy, such as it was, would be rudely disturbed at any moment. Someone swore outside and then the voices faded, their diminishing sound given some form of percussion by their retreating footsteps. As if cued in, he shifted her weight against him once more and she clung to him, desperate with desire. He drove deep into her. She felt him throughout her, for she was just a pussy now and he was everywhere within and about her. His movements got faster and more ragged, his grip on her harder, his mouth now all over hers, drinking her in, becoming one with her. She felt another rise within her with each deep thrust he made and as he drove and jolted deep inside her, the knowledge of his coming pushed her over the edge to another orgasm. Smaller this time, but shared. Less about the rise and more about the fall; falling together from the climax as they clung together in the harsh flourescent light. The shared, god-like feeling completely at odds with their surroundings.

Pulling themselves close, they held each other until he started to slide from within her. The sudden movement jolting them back to reality. "Fuck!" she said, checking her phone in her handbag, "five minutes to meeting time and we're a mess!"

"No." He replied calmly, "we're a fucking mess. And I have some news about the contract..."

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