A Cunning Plan

She paced herself so anyone motivated to do so could follow her. Now she looked back and saw Mr. X a casual distance behind her. In her travels, she had noticed one decent-sized alcove that was the perfect stage for Phase II. It contained a few upright armchairs with broad backs facing one another in loose formation, obstructed by a stair case, and buried in a small wing of disused conference rooms. The sort of spot that someone looking for a quiet place to prepare a presentation would have been pleased to discover. With a slightly self-conscious smile, she moved into the inviting nook and sat down in a chair facing away from the corridor.

She wouldn't be able to hear his approach across the well-carpeted floors, so she waited for him to appear, breathing slowly through her nostrils to still her heartbeat.

Mr. X wandered into the nook with a distracted half-curious air, as if he also had a special appreciation for hotel design. He didn't greet her directly -- perfect! -- but took his obvious mark in a chair slightly offset from hers and perhaps 2-3 metres away. He smiled -- almost shyly! -- and started to open his mouth.

She put her finger gently to her lips. This was so much more intimate a space than a hotel bar! She knew that conversation would seal them within that intimacy, and she didn't want that. Instead, she wanted a kind of anonymous intimacy -- and that required keeping communication to its barest essentials. And to ensure that the train of her plan stayed on its very slippery rails, she needed to control that communication completely. She looked at him and spoke:

"I should clarify a few things before this goes any further, and please understand that I don't mean to be rude. I just don't want there to be any confusion." She paused for a moment. His face fixed into a bemused, curious expression.

"I'm not propositioning you, and I'm not looking for a lover, or even for a friend. I already have a wonderful lover -- my husband -- ", she said, as her eyes actually twinkled, "and frankly, when this is over I hope never to see you again."

She waited a moment for this to register.

"What I am offering you is something that -- based on your reaction so far -- I think you'll enjoy. I know I'll enjoy providing it."

"But there are some basic ground rules: First, no talking unless I ask you a direct question. Second, I alone decide what happens and when it happens. You are not to make a move without my having asked you to do so. Third, I expect you as a man of obvious integrity to keep what happens between us to yourself. Fourth, if at any time you feel that you can't abide with these conditions, you can simply leave. Don't feel that you need to thank me."

That last statement she ended with an endearing half-wink.

"Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Now, then. When did you first seem my panties this evening?"

"When you first sat down at the table. You were a bit clumsy and I got a quick glimpse at them."

"Did that 'quick glimpse' make you want to see my panties again?"

"Yes."

"And were you looking in my direction with the hope of catching another glimpse?"

"Well, not a serious hope. More of an ideal fantasy hope."

"Were you surprised when you saw my panties the second time?"

"I had a hard time believing my eyes at first. I thought it was another accident."

"But it wasn't an accident, was it?"

"No, but it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that", he said wryly.

"Did you like looking at my panties?"

"Yes, very much so."

"What did you think when I opened my legs for you?"

"I thought 'Holy shit, she really wants me to look at her panties'", he said, laughing.

"Did you think that I must be a slut?", she asked, not knowing what she wanted his answer to be.

"No, I knew you weren't a slut. You are a quite lovely, obviously responsible, professional woman. That's what made the whole thing so exciting."

"So that was what I wanted his answer to be", she thought, and said aloud:

"But responsible women don't show their panties to strangers."

"Yes, I know... that's what made the whole thing so damn confusing." And he laughed again.

"Would you like me to show you my panties again?"

"Definitely."

For the third time that evening, she spread her knees apart. As much as he was an experienced man of the world, Mr. X actually couldn't help himself now, couldn't quite keep his cool demeanor together. When she exposed her underwear to him this time, he let out an appreciative sigh-groan and his face lit up in a boyish grin.

Would an observer have found this repetition tiresome, she wondered? A silly schoolgirl tease, going nowhere?

From time to time, late at night when her husband was away, she read erotica on her little iPod while masturbating before falling sleep. If she had been reading about the events of the last hour or two, she would be one of those questioning the author's pacing and considering whether to cut her losses and find some better material to finger herself off to. She would be skimming ahead, looking for that quick jolt of sexual action that she needed to push her over the edge. She liked the stories with lots of action!

And wasn't this the point in those stories where she should be pulling a bottle of astro-glide out of her purse and handing it to Mr. X? Bending over the arms of her chair, pulling down her panties, lifting up her skirt and draping it up and over her back to get it out of the way? Begging him to lubricate her anus and shove his meaty cock into her? Feeling him pound into her with desperate ferocity while saying very dirty things to her?

"How do you like that, you naughty tease? I could tell what a dirty slut you were as soon as I saw you spreading yourself shamelessly in the bar. You're even naughtier and nastier than I thought! You like being bent over and fucked like a barnyard animal? But you know, most female mammals don't ask to be fucked in the ass -- they've got more self-respect than that. I'm not even going to bother with your cunt. I'm sure its had many visitors, and I like a nice tight hole. Know what I'm going to do with your soft round ass? I'm going to fuck it until you are begging me to fill it, and then I'm going to cum deep inside of it, and leave you here with my sperm dripping out of it on to this expensive mother-fucking carpet. You'll have to wipe up your messy, sore, well-used, cum-covered asshole with your panties and then hope you can get back to your hotel room and clean yourself up before your unsuspecting husband gets back to your room. You like that idea don't you? Then beg me. Beg me to come in your ass. Fuck, you're going to make me come. What a nice little fuck-toy I've found to use while I'm in town. Wait until I tell the other guys! I've got a big black friend with a nine-inch cock that would be happy to fill up your other hole for you!!"

Well, she had to admit, that did have a certain appeal... But she was discovering something important: how distant the experience of reading about a sexual act could be from that of actually doing it. As distant as between that of reading a spy novel in bed late at night and that of having someone fire an automatic weapon in your direction with lethal intent.

So, no... she wasn't finding this getting old yet. And judging by Mr. X's rather dazed expression, he wasn't either. What she was doing now was already almost too intense to handle. She couldn't imagine herself doing anything more now. She needed to take each step at a time. And anyway, she was finding that the journey was its own reward. She wasn't going to hurry just to get to the ending.

So now she really splayed her legs -- let them hang open and rest against the sides of the chair as she reclined into it. She wanted to see for herself what he could see, so she lifted up from the chair so that she could yank her skirt up and bunch it around her waist.

There were her panties. Again, that intoxicating wave of exposure washed over her as she looked at herself on display. The entire front panel of her panties was visible and you could see from edge to edge of the gusset -- see her fine pubic hair spilling out from under the stretchy material surrounding each leg hole. See the sweet little indentation on the interior of each leg where a small gap appeared -- the perfect spot to slide a finger under. See the soft outline of her now full inner lips pressing into the fabric.

And -- oh, god -- she was revealing more than her panties, she was revealing her state of arousal. In terms of exterior wetness, she was not one of those women who dripped with excitement at the drop of a hat. When she became excited, she became very well-lubricated inside, but it took some manipulation for that moisture to make its way out. But now, she could see a quarter-sized darker spot smack in the middle of the gusset of her panties, about 2/3 of the way down the line of her lips. She felt a kind of deep, positive shame. What would her panties betray as she went further?

And from her distance, she could see that he was reacting to all of this in a physical way as well. A pronounced tent had formed in his pants and he kept shifting in his seat and adjusting himself. At what point would he begin rubbing himself, she wondered?

"Would you like to watch me touch myself?"

"Urgh. Uh-huh. Yes."

And so, just as if she were participating in the fantasy she shared with her husband, she touched herself in front of a stranger. She wanted to touch her pussy because she wanted Mr. X to see her do it. But she also needed it. It was an itch that needed to be scratched. She began to stroke her fingers over the fabric between her heavy outer lips, over her inner lips, starting at the bottom and moving to the top. Each time she made a stroke, her lips would be pushed apart a bit further and the fabric between them would get damper.

She carried on masturbating herself through her underwear for some time. The outline of her vulva became more and more pronounced. Over time the area of her panties covering her vaginal opening became almost saturated -- so saturated that you could could see not just the shape but the pink and yellow tones of her intimate flesh through the wet fabric.

It felt deeply satisfying to touch herself in this way, but of course it wasn't enough. It was time for the second half of Phase II -- and this next step felt like real point of no return. She could abandon things now, but if she didn't, she knew that she wouldn't be able to stop herself from taking her plan all the through to the end. But, as with each step before, there was no real question whether she would take this next one. Her logic was sound, her emotions were under control, and her body was relentless in its pursuit of the final outcome.

"Do you want to see it? Do you want to see my pussy?"

"Please. Yes, please show it to me."

And so she slipped her fingers under the band that held her underwear against her skin, lifted it slightly, and pulled it across her lips so that most of her vulva was revealed. Her light hair coverage provided a beautiful foil for her vagina's various components to play off of. Her labia minora were pronounced but not protruding -- they were always visible, but now they set the entire scene. They were slightly separated in the middle and their inside edges glistened with lubrication, and it was immediately apparent that any reasonably sized and appropriately shaped object could slide between them with ease. From a purely objective biological point of view, she was ready to be mounted. From her own subjective point of view, she wanted to be.

"Should I touch it now that it is uncovered?"

"I'm not sure if I could handle it if you did."

She smiled slyly. "Just answer the question."

"Yes. Of course. Yes." And he began to rub himself through his trousers.

Again, she put two fingers to her inner lips, down toward the bottom. But this time there was no veil separating flesh from flesh. She felt her wetness, the perfect silky sliminess of nature's own personal lubricant. It was all she ever needed. She slid her finger up the groove between her inner lips, separating them further as she went. Oh god. This is what she had been craving all night. It was truly beyond her imagination. Everything felt dream-like, but at the same time the entire room was in sharp focus.

She began to stroke herself slowly. Up and down, up and down. Spreading her wetness along the top of her lips and then their outside edges. She watched Mr. X looking at her. His gaze was intent and single-minded, as if he wished to capture a complete perfect image of what he was seeing in order to be able to retrieve it again and again. He was rubbing himself vigorously. "He's going to make a mess of those pants", her sensible self intruded, uninvited. Then she heard herself groaning out loud.

She craved to cram her fingers in to her pussy just as her husband had told her to do so many times. She craved to rub her clit.

In any fictional account those would be the obvious next steps. But as desperate as she was to go deeper into the realm of self-gratification, and as desperate as she was to her pull her lips apart for his inspection, she knew that she wouldn't. She knew that she needed to hold back for now. She needed to demonstrate the power of her self-control. She needed her observer to want more, without even knowing what that more would be.

So, ending with one last lingering stroke, she removed her fingers from between her lips. She waited half a minute to allow Mr. X to take once again take in the complete view of her full pussy. Then she slowly returned the gusset of her panties to its proper place. As she did this she watched as his look of rapt appreciation and lust change to one of disappointed but understanding resignation.

As always, his deportment was impeccable. He didn't say a word.

She smiled -- a genuine, almost sympathetic, but not at all condescending smile.

"I'm afraid that that will have to be all for now. My husband will be back soon, and I have a lot to share with him."

He nodded his head as though he understood. But really, how could he?

"If you want to continue this, meet me here at precisely 6:30 tomorrow. No sooner, and no later. Understood?"

"Yes. Completely."

She got up form the chair, smoothed her skirt, gathered up her purse, and walked away.

_ Chapter 5: The Payback_

Mary was sitting at the small desk in the Herman Miller knock-off chair. Hugh opened the door to the hotel room. "Sweetie, I'm back."

"I know..." she said, "I can see you standing there."

"Look, I really don't know what to say, except that I feel like a self-absorbed jerk. It was totally shitty of me to go out drinking with the team -- even if it was a rare opportunity to suck up to upper management. Okay, especially if it was just to suck up to upper management. It was a waste of time anyway. Tom doesn't know anything about what's really happening in production, but naturally he thinks he's the worlds gift... Um, right, I'll stop there. I just really want you to know how sorry I am. I know this was supposed to be a night for us."

The really great thing about Hugh was that when he did have his head up his ass, he was usually able to pull it back out without any outside help.

"So, I'm here to make it up to you in the best way I know how. By fucking you in the way that only I can. Baby."

And then he could bury it back up there again just as quickly.

Well, one thing she knew: He certainly wasn't going to get his other head up her ass with talk like that! She stifled a giggle but also felt a chill up her spine at the images her third bad pun of the day had aroused. He'd been trying to buy a ticket for that particular magic tunnel ride for some time, but while she'd let him pop his head in to have a peek, she'd always turned him back, pointing at the height restriction sign.

The truth was that she was a bit trepidatious about the whole idea. Not of anal sex in particular -- the dirtiness of that act made it more appealing to her. And even the discomfort that she assumed it entailed had its enticing qualities -- she knew that if she did get fucked in her virgin ass that she would feel completely taken, and any fantasy that involved her being taken was totally appealing to her.

But there was a problem. Put bluntly, Hugh was well-equipped. She had told him that not (just) to stroke his ego -- it was a simple fact. Her husband's cock was the longest she'd had -- and she was had a large sample set to compare him to. It wasn't that she had been promiscuous, but she'd always had an appetite for sex and had had plenty of time to indulge that appetite before she met her husband. So yes, she knew he was outside of the statistical norm -- if not a complete outlier. The thought of having all of that enter her at once -- when she had never had so much as a small toy up there before -- well... it gave her pause.

She snapped out of her sodometric musings and returned to the present. Her husband was still standing there waiting for her reaction to his generous offer, like a Labrador puppy who had just dropped a dead bird at its owner's feet.

"Like I said earlier, it's okay. I am able to entertain myself, you know."

She saw a small startle reflex as his mind returned to the phone conversation earlier that evening.

"Yeah, um. So what exactly did you mean when you said that there was 'plenty to keep you occupied'? You were yanking my chain, right? Well, it worked. You got me thinking, that's for sure. Can't take you for granted. Message received."

"What message?"

"Well, um... what did you mean when you said that?"

"I meant that I had found something that could keep me occupied."

"Like what, though?"

"Shh... we can talk about that later. Right now, all I really need to have occupy me is... your cock."

She got down on her knees and waited for him to get the idea and come over to her. He looked motivated, that was for sure. She reached out and undid his belt buckle. Opened his pants and slid them down to the floor. Pulled down his boxers and admired his now quite erect penis. Cupped his balls in one hand, and then gently wrapped her other hand around the tip of his cock. Pulled its foreskin back. Blew on the underside of its head. Opened her mouth wide and moved her head forward so that its head was fully enveloped by -- but not yet in contact with -- the inside of her mouth. She wondered if he could feel the warmth of her mouth just millimeters from his cock head; encircling it.

"Oh yeah baby, that's it. Suck it. Suck my cock."

She held herself there for a while longer and then slowly moved her head back so that her mouth was no longer surrounding his cock.

"Hey! I mean, that was a good idea. Let's go with that."

"Nah, you said you'd make it up to me. I want to make sure you don't forget later."

She went over to the bed and stripped off all of her clothes except for her panties. Then she lay herself out on the bed, legs dangling to the floor, knees spread far apart, ass as close to the base of the bed as she could get it.

"Okay, that's not a bad idea either. Why don't you do your thing for me, baby?"

He waited expectantly for her to begin feeling herself up.

"Nah, I think I'll let you do the work tonight."

"Okay, okay, you got me. Fair enough."

It was his turn to kneel. He moved up to the base of the bed and put his face up to her pussy.

"Wow, it looks like you've been busy. Your smell is all over those panties."

"Lick them."

He happily complied and began to use his strong lips to massage the mound under her panties. She let him have at it or a while.

"Now, take them off of me."

Again, he was only too happy to comply.

"You know what to do."

He did. He licked up and down her slit, moaning, making little sucking noises.