tagErotic CouplingsFlannel & Gold

Flannel & Gold

byAndyLuvder©

Mark's alarm clock blasts on like a buzzsaw. He punches the sleep button and settles back to hump his bed a little. He has a terrific hardon.

Vague outlines of a dream linger... something about a woman in unexpectedly slinky gold-colored lingerie...firm, bare, modest cleavage...low top reaching almost to the bold pointy nipples...full moist lips curling into a smile, parting, waiting... piercingly clear blue eyes ...who was this woman?

It wasn't his girlfriend. She has brown eyes, large breasts, and nothing surprising about her clothing...Mark drifts back to sleep.

The alarm rudely buzzes him awake again, and this time Mark makes himself get up. It's still dark out. He's alone. He feels some urgency because the convention starts today and he has to do all the set-up.

No temptations from his girlfriend this morning; she slept at her apartment last night. Alone, he hopes. Well, he doesn't really think she cheats on him, but he has a habit of worrying about it, probably because of the way they got together.

She had been living with another guy at the time and he could never forget how uncontrollably crazy it had sometimes made him feel. Oh, she had assured him she was moving toward the breakup, but he couldn't stand how much time she thought she needed to give the other guy a "soft landing."

Mark makes some strong coffee, thinking about the big day today. Before audio-visual companies were all about computer video and powerpoint presentations, the first day of a convention meant someone like Mark driving up very early to the A-V office, loading all the equipment onto a van, driving the van downtown to the hotel, unloading everything at the loading dock and hauling up all the screens, movie and slide projectors to the staging area.

It's a lot of heavy work, but Mark likes it for the freedom. No office to be cooped up in, plus he gets to drive the van, work behind the scenes, and be in charge of himself.

He also likes living for a few days in the bright clean world of smartly dressed women and men, all being paid to take a break from their offices, open up to new ideas, make new contacts, and flirt ceaselessly, with bars and hotel rooms at the ready to back them up.

Mark is burly and strong, and his flannel shirt and jeans fit snugly. He zooms up the highway to the office, his radio rocking.

His young boss, Charlie, is there to give him a hand, pick out the right equipment and help load it. They get to work checking the work order, sorting and carrying.

Mark stops for a moment in the back room and smiles, but then gets on with the work. He's daydreaming about the time he came back from a job to discover Charlie and another guy watching a porno flick in that back room. They invited Mark to join them.

One scene from the flick stuck with him and it brings the smile to Mark's lips this morning as he gathers the equipment together.

The plotline was that a mysterious master kept several women as sex slaves for his clients, but no one but the master was allowed to cum. One of the "slave" women was clearly a master cocksucker and enjoyed it, and didn't look like a sex slave at all. In fact, the "clients" seemed to be completely at her mercy. The scene Mark remembers was when she was working her magic on one guy as he lay on his back, sucking him steadily, taking every inch of him in her mouth and pumping him slowly. You could see how excited he was getting, and suddenly he jerked to sitting up, and you knew he was cumming but wasn't supposed to look like it. With a single motion of her hand she calmed him and made him lie back without missing a beat, as she sucked him and no doubt took every spurt of his cum in stride, swallowing as she went, and making it look like nothing had gone wrong.

The van loaded, Mark hops in and heads for downtown. He can't seem to get sex off his mind. Things are mostly good with his girlfriend Carrie, but he also likes to get away--to work, to his apartment, to his fantasies--so much that he sometimes wonders if they should be sticking it out. Maybe he needs someone new. Easier said than done. The thing is, he can't put his finger on anything wrong with her. She even buys him expensive presents, like the cross-country skis that erased his doubts about breaking up, at least through the ski season.

On the highway, he remembers the camp counselor jobs they had last summer. He and Carrie had one night off and he paid her a surprise visit at her cabin in the woods.

Her face lit up when she saw him walk in. He remembers her showing him a postcard over by the crude wooden desk, and as she turned to him, he kissed her soft mouth, and her body turned to meet his, her large breasts pressed full against his chest and his hands tracing the soft curve of her hips.

He lifted her up so she sat on the desk as they slid tongues and lips together, and then he managed to check that all the curtains were drawn before dropping his pants and freeing up his hard cock. She reached down to feel its size and heat, and edged closer to him, straddling him with her legs so he could feel her heat too.

Mark is driving too fast, thinking about all that. He brakes, checks the traffic, and makes sure not to miss the exit for the hotel.

He had lifted her soft round ass towards him and she locked her legs around him, still reaching down with one hand to feel the head of his cock.

"Condom?" she had asked through the kiss.

"No luck on that," he had murmured, hardly missing a slurp of her soft mouth.

This was the moment that always brings a smile to Mark's lips, and he quickly wets his lips with his tongue as he turns into the hotel loading dock driveway and keeps on with his daydream.

She guided his rock hard cock past her hot pussy, right to her asshole. Very gently he pushed, slowly making room for the tip of his penis. Once he was in, their urgent hips kept slipping him deeper into her until soon he was just fucking her tight hole as if it was her pussy and they still kissed, her legs wrapped round him, standing up, half leaning her against the desk, and when he rocked and bucked his loads of cum deep into her, they held tight and felt very close.

OK, back to reality, Mark thinks. Unlock the van door and start hauling up the stuff to floor 3. Screens, huge and small ones, heavy projectors for movies, lighter ones for slides, boxes for chords and duck tape.

As he lays down the last box on the third floor, a loud clopping of high heels comes down the hallway. Mark has to find the meeting coordinator now, so he steps into the hall and finds himself following those heels. And the high leather boots above them, and the saucy display of ass from an hourglass figure topped by a bleach-blonde hairdo display. As he passes her, he turns to complete the picture with a view of ruby red lips, smooth madeup face, heavy eye makeup, and a lowcut cleavage about the size of Dolly Parton's. All that's missing is a sandwich board sign: "Available for drinks and bed. Rich hunks only." Or maybe that's just sour grapes on Mark's part.

Mark takes note of other well dressed women stepping purposefully up and down the hallway. He imagines that at the dinner for "regional all-stars" that night, some of these women would be absolutely stunning in their evening gowns. Just now they are mostly business. He wonders idly which ones would loosen up and let their hair down in bed, and which ones would bring along a to-do list to make sure that all foreplay, orgasmic and post-orgasmic activities are suitably accomplished within the allotted time.


The meeting coordinator's office bustles with people registering and asking questions, and others filling out forms, handing over packets, pulling out files from temporary file cabinets, and lining materials up on folding tables. There is nothing sexy about there...until he meets the coordinator herself.

Mark finds her buried in paperwork, and waits for her to finish up some writing and notice him. She is wearing a dark feminine business suit, her light streaked hair tied in a fashionable bun. Her nails are neat but without garish polish. It's hard to guess what she really looks like because of that blocky suit.

Finally she puts away the paper and pen, and looks up with full, moist lips curled into a smile. "Hi, I'm Audrey. How can I help you?"

Mark catches his breath for a second at the sight of her piercingly clear blue eyes. Her moist lips are parted, waiting for his answer.

"Uh, yeah, I'm handling the AV for you. I've got all the equipment here."

"Mmmm. You mean all the projectors and things?" She eyes his snug jeans for a moment.

"Well, yeah. I just need to check your room schedule so I can set up."

They huddle over the schedule, and he notices a faint, fresh scent, probably from her hair. Her tan, graceful neck and smooth, lively face nearly distract him from the business at hand.

"I just need to be sure you've got Room B ready by 8:30 sharp, then we can sort out Room A. I'll come by at 8:25 to see if you need anything. I can even bring you a coffee." And she winks.

"Right, see you then," Mark says. She does meet with him and brings him a good coffee. She is a bundle of good energy and always leaves him thinking of more than just business. But in the end, she is really all business, and very good at it. She has all the information he needs. Not like some coordinators who have things only half figured out and then try to blame him or his company for not reading their minds.

Later that morning, Mark notices Audrey staring at him with a smile from across the room, while others seem to be clamoring for her attention. She's watching him and one of the meeting speakers, who is striding up to him in a huge dither about his slides.

"These slides are completely messed up!" shouts the speaker. "I had them in perfect order!"

"Actually," Mark says calmly, "I didn't touch them. Here, let's go over them."

"Here!" says the speaker, "This one! See? It's completely out of order! It should be swapped with the next one! How did this happen? Why do you people always do this to me?"

Mark's calm, rich voice seems to help. "Don't worry," he say, "It's just two slides that were swapped. Everything else seems okay. I'll put your slides in safekeeping and make sure everything's perfect. When is your talk?"

The harried speaker thrusts a program in Mark's face and points to the listing.

"Okay," says Mark, reading the listing, "Stress Management. Today's top techniques for calming your mind and handling all possible conflicts with ease..."

"I KNOW THAT!" roars the speaker, ripping the paper out of Mark's hands. "I wrote that part! I'm showing you the room and time--see here? Right here--Room A, 2:30 this afternoon. Okay? Be there, and don't screw up!" And the speaker takes off in a huff.

Mark catches Audrey's eye, and walks over to her. "Stress management?"

She laughs, a boisterous relief from that stressed-out speaker. "We get all kinds," she says merrily. "I just make it all run. And thank you for making your part easy for me. You're really very good." Is it Mark's imagination or did she seem to eye him in all the right places as she said this?

The next day at lunchtime, Mark has to visit another building to show some slides. He hails a cab out back, and just then spots Audrey on the sidewalk.

"Hey, how come they let you out of the fishbowl?" he calls.

"Oh, I have to check up on the Business Priorities meeting over in another building."

"That's where I'm heading right now. Want a ride?"

"Oh, okay, I guess. Here, I'll cover the fare," she says.

They hop into the back seat of the cab together.

Mark finds his stomach curiously churning because he's been thinking about Audrey more and more. As they start up some small talk about the meeting, he can't help noticing her tightly crossed legs. It's the first time he sees up close how shapely they are. But there's also something else going on. She's friendly and great at small talk, but her legs are so tight that they seem to be saying "keep off."

No, it isn't quite that. It's more like "I have to keep you off" or "I really can't go any farther" or "I shouldn't be liking you like this."

Mark invites her to lunch. Whatever those crossed legs might mean, he wants more time with this cheery, beautiful woman.

"No, I already had my bag lunch in that dreary office. Maybe tomorrow," she offers.

So they meet for lunch the next day in a small diner in a strip of hotel shops. Mark's been thinking of her all night. Twice, people notice Audrey and lean in to interrupt and ask meeting questions.

"Well, it's the last day today," says Audrey. "Tomorrow, it's home--and my birthday!"

"Really? That's great, I hope you have a party or something special."

"Yeah, more like I'll be exhausted from this meeting. I usually need a day or two to recover from these things."

Mark finds her refreshing and captivating and keeps thinking about her as he goes back to work running the projectors and showing films or slides for the remaining meetings.

As the afternoon wears on, he feels increasingly sad. He may never see Audrey again. He may not even get to say goodbye, given the way these meetings break up all of a sudden and everyone disappears.

He is getting ready to show a film but has to rewind the previous reel. He starts the reels rewinding, and then peeks out through the curtain to watch the businesspeople sitting around and chatting, reviewing trade show materials, making notes, waiting for the meeting to begin.

Suddenly he sees Audrey nearby, checking on the room. Is it a coincidence? He motions to her, and she comes over to say hello.

He brings her behind the curtain into his booth.

"I'm so glad to see you before you go," Mark says.

"Me, too," says Audrey. "Thanks for lunch, that was fun."

"Listen...I just want to wish you happy birthday!"

Mark reaches to give her a birthday hug, and she takes it, and he lingers longer than he should, and notices that she is holding him tightly. He pulls back to look at her, and they fall into a very passionate kiss. All business is left behind. Their lips and tongues are searching each other out like long lost lovers with no tomorrow. His hand massages her lower back and moves lightly down over her ass. She makes no move to resist him.

Suddenly the film is finished rewinding. The reel is spinning, going thwap thwap thwap in the projector. Mark ignores it and kisses her even deeper.

Finally they break off, hot and flushed, and he quickly turns off the projector.

"Here, take my address and phone," says Mark, jotting them down quickly. "Write me!"

She grabs the scrap of paper and blows him a kiss and fixes him with her clear blue eyes as she collects herself and briskly walks out. Mark peeks out from behind the curtain and sees her march out of the room in a no-nonsense walk, without seeming to notice all the heads that have been craning to see why a rewinding film was thwapping away untended, only to see a beautiful woman leave the projection booth.

The convention day finishes, and Mark can think of nothing but Audrey. He walks out into the hotel lobby trying to put a plan together to pack up all the equipment and drive the van back up to the office.

He passes a hotel phone and a crazy thought comes to mind. He knows her last name. He picks up the phone and asks the hotel operator for her room. The phone rings. He can't quite believe it's that easy. He hears Audrey's voice.

"Hello?" she says.

She's going to be ticked off at him, he thinks. The one-track male mind, etc.

"Hello?" she says again.

"Hi, Audrey, this is Mark."

Silence. "Mark. Well, hi. I'm just packing up. Where are you?"

"I'm in the lobby. Can I see you?"

More silence. "Well...okay. Room 618."

"See you in a minute."

His knocks on her door are hardly louder than the pounding of his heart.

She opens the door, and smiles with her full, moist lips and her clear blue eyes.

He is barely inside with the door shut before they are kissing, Mark leaning against the wall, Audrey feeling his chest, his hips, Mark feeling her back and ass, her long hair, now let down from the bun, the collar of her robe as she kisses his chest and sinks lower to her knees.

He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his pants as she feels his ramrod cock under his pants, her eyes closed. She reaches into his pants and feels his cock through his underpants.

Mark is enthralled but odd thoughts come through his brain. He feels dirty; he feels grimy; he's been doing physical work all day. Would she want to kiss him down there now? Maybe he should suggest they take a bath or a shower. But Audrey was inhaling the male aromas and loved the mix of sweat and sperm she could smell. Thoughts of her through the day, and their kisses, had released some powerful sex odors, and she was buried in it.

But then Carrie comes to Mark's mind. She's meeting him tonight at his place.

Audrey has her lips on Mark's cock through the cloth of the underpants. He feels his thumbs ready to peel down his underpants for her.

If they go for a bath or shower and do everything up, then by the time he unloads the equipment and gets home, Carrie will be waiting for who knows how long, and if he has sex now what will there be for her? But for God's sake, what are these stupid thoughts going through his mind at a time like this?

Then comes the thought: does he have any choice at this point? And as if to prove that he does, with a superhuman effort of will, Mark refrains from peeling down his underpants and feeling Audrey devour his naked cock. He slowly pulls together the button on his pants. The gently closing pants cause Audrey to back off and look up at him.

He leans down and kisses her deeply and pulls her toward the bed. They drop onto the bed and he opens her robe, only to catch his breath at a startling sight: gold-colored lacy lingerie, shapely legs, a low cut braline reaching almost to nipples that practically poke holes through the flimsy material.

Mark strokes her legs and kisses her firm chest. He noses down to her nipples and licks and sucks and kneads them as she moans and holds his head. He slips his mouth down to her belly button lower to the edge of her panties. His hands rub her slit through the panties and he bends down to kiss the insides of her thighs, first one leg, then the other. He places his mouth firmly over her panties and breathes hotly onto her cunt. He wants to pull back her panties and kiss and lick her wet slit, and tease her clit, but more searing thoughts race through his brain. If he goes down on her and kisses her cunt and fills his mouth with her delicious juices, there's no way he can get rid of the taste and smell of her before meeting with Carrie.

Meanwhile Audreys hands are pressing his head into her groin and she is grinding against him.

He can't bring himself to pull down her panties.

Again with a huge dose of willpower, Mark pulls himself up to her breasts to suck her nipples and lick her chest again and then kisses her mouth as they entwine in each other's arms and legs.

"I have a girlfriend," Mark says.

Audrey smiles. "I have a husband."

"When are you leaving?" Mark asks.

"In an hour. My flight gets home to Texas at around 8 your time. My husband will pick me up. I guess I'll be home by 8:30. I'll think of you."

"I'm supposed to meet my girlfriend about then. I'll probably be thinking of you."

They pause and sigh. Finally, Mark gets up. Audrey traces his shoulder and chest with a gentle hand and smile.

"It's been unbelievable but I wish this was only the beginning," Mark said.

"Me too. I've never let myself do anything like this, and it's not as if I wouldn't have takers at some of these meetings. I just don't go for it. But you devil, you...come here." And she kisses him for all she's worth, and then pushes him toward the door.

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