Ascending Lauren Ch. 15

"I think he wants you to come closer."

Quietly, Lauren slid off Corey's lap and knelt in front of the disembodied cock. It now extended at least seven inches onto their side of the wall. Slowly, she reached out and touched it, quickly pulling her hand back. It trembled and bobbed. Lauren giggled and looked back at her husband.

"Well?" was all he asked.

"Do you have a condom?" she whispered.

"Oddly enough, I didn't think to bring a condom to go clothes shopping. But it'll make the list next time."

Lauren stuck out her tongue, then turned back to the protruding member. She grasped it with both hands and began jerking it off, slowly at first, then increasing with each stroke. The skin was brownish in color, and she tried to remember if there had been a Latino or Indian in the store. Lauren studied the cock with great interest, spitting onto it every so often to reduce friction. She could hear the guy on the other side breathing heavily. And he wasn't the only one.

Back on the metal shelf, Corey had fished out his own dick and was matching the rhythm of his wife's hand on mystery man's cock. The faster her hand went, so did his.

Before long, the couple heard the stranger grunt loudly. Lauren's fingers felt the blue veins beneath them pulsate, followed by apparent gasping of the slit in the circumcised glans. It was not gasping. Suddenly, it began spitting out several ropes of thick milky cum into the air, arcing across the room. The first couple blasts nearly hit Corey, with less forceful ones landing on the floor. Lauren's jeans were a casualty, as was her top.

"OH SHIT!" Corey cried as the mystical cock from the other booth quickly disappeared back into the hole. Lauren knew that wail well and dashed to him, lowering her lips over his shaft in the nick of time. Their earlier lovemaking had taken most of what the 61-year-old had, but what was left she took like a champ. Rising from her knees, she opened her mouth and showed him her slimy prize, before allowing it to slither down her throat.

Jesus, Joseph, and Mary.

"Do you have any more change?" Lauren asked innocently.

+++++

The temporarily reunited couple arrived at the opulent Jamais Vu hotel at half-past five and checked into one of Rekrap Industry's comp'd rooms. Corey dutifully played the part of personal assistant, using their last name to address her, and lots of "yes ma'ams". Dressed in a sports coat, button down shirt, and nice slacks, he looked the part too, toting her overnight to the elevator, a small tablet she used as a PDA in his hand.

The one-bedroom unit was nicely appointed, with a queen bed and refrigerator. Lauren quickly realized that it just happened to be adjacent to the event's reception suite that her CEO, Stephan Jones, had rented for their clients. She had to hand it to Jones. He was a prick, but he was always thinking ahead.

While his wife took a shower, Corey checked his camera. He had brought it along, quite coincidently, hoping to capture some sea birds along the beaches. Now, here he was, preparing to take self-serving photographs for a company he wasn't even employed by.

Newsletter, my ass, he thought, checking the memory card. Ever since Lauren had explained what may be required to advance some of her business opportunities, Corey had been extremely tense. "I may have to get a little flirty, she had warned. "Do whatever it takes" had been his reply. Did he really mean that?

As she exited the bathroom and began to apply a sweet-smelling lotion to her skin, Corey's mind recalled watching her get ready for her date with Zane. His anxiety had been off the charts then too, but unlike then, tonight he'd actually get see Lauren working her charms in person. It didn't matter whether there was really any flirting or not, just the potential knotted his stomach. Such is living life in the kink.

For now, all he could do was sit on the bed and admire her naked and toned 48-year-old body. It was something she worked hard for the gym. Something he had started to take to heart. Her still wet, straight jet-black hair fell loosely about her shoulders, some of it covering her tomato-sized breasts, the rest extending down to just past her shoulder blades. Small beads of water dripped from the ends and trickled down her back and belly, drawing attention to well-defined abdominal muscles. Below those taut abs were slightly rounded hips, giving way to a hairless cleft that any man would pine for. Corey couldn't have been prouder. She was the definition of a MILF. And unlike most, men didn't just want to fuck his MILF, they actually were.

Lauren felt his eyes as she finished drying her hair and wrapped a red strapless bra around her breasts.

"What?"

"Nothing. You're beautiful."

She turned her nose up in mock distain. "Why, thank you, but my assistant shouldn't be saying such things."

"Your assistant shouldn't be watching you get dressed."

"So, you like watching me get ready?" Lauren smiled, pulling a pair of red frilly panties and matching garters out of her overnight. "Even if it's to impress other men?"

"You know I do."

She smiled, pleased by his response. Walking over to the bed, the raven-haired beauty stood before him, her bald pussy mere inches from his face. "You are such a perv."

Corey pulled her close and put a cheek against his wife's tight stomach. He inhaled deeply, smelling her freshness, wondering just how long it would stay that way. Sadly, she pushed him away and stepped into the lacy garter belt, pulling it along her legs and into place above her hips.

"It's nice to see you wearing sexy things for me," he commented, admiring the straps dangling down her thighs.

Sitting in a chair next to the bed, Lauren held out a pair of black thigh-high stockings and lifted a leg. "They're not for you, Twisty," she smirked, carefully watching his reaction. "Here, help me with these."

Kneeling in front of her, he slid the opening of one over her foot, gently shimmying it up her calf. He repeated the same for the other leg. As he smoothed them out under her watchful gaze, he stared at her still bare slit and a hint of pink within.

"Focus," Lauren reprimanded him, tapping the top of his head. Standing up, she put one foot on the chair. "Fasten," she commanded, pointing at the garters.

Corey did as he was asked, attaching the suspenders' end-clasps to each stocking, first in the front, then the back. Hand still on his head, she lingered for just a moment, allowing him to gaze at her pussy and smell her sex.

"Thank you," Lauren finally broke the awkward silence, giggling inwardly. The tent in his trousers told her all she needed to know.

After pulling the panties over the garters, she stepped into the little red number purchased earlier in the day. Adjusting the one and only shoulder strap that held up the bodice, she turned her back to her husband, offering him the full-length zipper. "A little help, please."

Corey inserted the pin into the bottom stop and carefully guided the slider up and over her buttocks, then along her delicate spine to the back of the neck. As the teeth closed, it pulled the dress tight, conforming to every curve.

"Wow," the awestruck project manager exclaimed, stepping back.

"Looks nice, huh?" she asked, disappearing into the bathroom to finish her makeup, already knowing the answer. "Very Christmassy."

Twenty minutes later Lauren reemerged, her hair now wrapped in a classy bun atop her head, a couple wisps framing her picturesque face. Corey was blown away. She looked fabulous. Business Sexy was a term that came to mind, along with others that he chose not to articulate. True to its name, the dress fit like a bandage, wrapping her body like scarlet gauze, from just above the knee to just above those bite-sized breasts. Unlike last night, her makeup was light and airy, presenting an overall package that was professional, but with heat.

Lauren picked up her wedding ring and slid it over her finger.

"You sure you want to wear that?" Corey asked, "considering you are trying to create, um, business opportunities?"

She nodded and looked deeply into his lonely eyes.

"I'm proud to be married to you. Yesterday, today...tomorrow. In that perverse little brain of yours," she whispered, taking a hand in hers, "you may want to share this." Lauren touched their intertwined fingers to the thin dress material just below her waist. "But," she added, raising them to her heart, "no one will ever share this."

The long-married couple stared at each other for a long time, until an alarm on Corey's phone broke their tacit proclamation of love.

It was time for a party.

"Safe word?" he asked, gulping.

Lauren picked up her clutch and headed towards the door.

"What makes you think I need one?"

+++++

The Grand Ballroom was certainly that, replete with Crystal chandeliers, colorful carpet and ornate statues. The hotel's brochure said it held 50 guests, but it could have easily held twice that many. Upon arrival, Lauren and Corey manned the reception desk for a bit, checking in guests from The Detrevrep Consortium and Polymer Thermoset, issuing name badges and directing new arrivals to the bar. In short order, CEO Stephan Jones saw to it that Rekrap's best asset of the evening was freed up to make the rounds. He watched with amusement as Lauren moved from pod to pod, introducing she and her assistant "Carson".

Corey immersed himself in the role, taking photos of his "boss" with client execs and their wives. Eventually they came to the president and owners of the two companies, Angel Tagliatelle and Stretch Madison. Both were perennial bachelors and were particularly jovial that night. Tagliatelle had brought a date, a young blonde woman who giggled too much and appeared very trophy-like. Madison, on the other hand, was alone, and although he tried to hide it, was obviously smitten when he turned around and saw the pretty office manager in the tight red dress. The wealthy Detrevrep owner extended a hand and introduced himself.

Lauren noticed how svelte and trim both businessmen were, no doubt products of some overpriced gym. Not hunks by any means, but sexy enough. She wondered, while shaking Stretch's hand, exactly how he got his nickname. Perhaps she'd find out. Off to the side, she noticed her boss, CEO Stephan Jones, looking in their direction and nodding.

So these are the guys he wants me to make eyes with? Hmmm. Okay, certainly could be worse.

Unaware of his wife's collusion with her boss, Corey encouraged Lauren and Madison to huddle for a couple photos. Lauren smiled politely as the polished tycoon pulled her into his large frame. Next came a photo op with Tagliatelle, who posed in his Armani suit, pearly whites flashing. He was smaller than his counterpart, but handsome, nonetheless. Both were consummate gentlemen, and thanked Rekrap for hosting a special way for their employees to cap off the holiday week.

Moving on, Lauren continued to press palms with other clients and their guests, while Corey snapped loads of pictures. At one point, a logistics manager at one of the companies expressed a desire to have a conversation with her around supply chain. "Carson" didn't miss a beat, simply nodding with a straight face and making notes in the PDA.

Oh, he's good, she thought. Maybe I should make him take a memo.

Finally, they had hit all the tables and found their place settings alongside other Rekrap employees. After a nice sit-down dinner, Jones took the podium and made a toast, ending it with wishes for long, profitable relationships. This was followed by dancing, music provided by a cover band that played hits from the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Drinks flowed and the lines at the bar were deep. At Lauren's suggestion, Corey mingled, taking photos for the newsletter, while she hung back, helping where needed. As the party wore on, the need for official chaperones diminished. At that point, it was just dancing and drinking. Predictably, Lauren was tugged to the dance floor by several women she knew from client offices. All were feeling their liquor and it showed as they shifted from one genre of music to another with ease.

Corey snapped a few pictures of his wife and her friends before noticing something both disturbing and exciting through the viewfinder. He wasn't the only one noticing their dance moves. Several groups of single men, chemical engineers no doubt, had gathered to the side and were watching the women. Not only watching, but plotting. It was no surprise when a few fanned out and began introducing themselves. Lauren snuck looks at Corey as she accepted several invitations to dance, smirking in that special way she had these days. There was some twirling and shoulder touching, but everything else was above board. Nothing that any husband could complain about, and certainly not a personal assistant. Through it all, as the younger bucks took their shot, Stretch Madison held court at the Detrevrep table, his most loyal employees fawning over him. He generally enjoyed the attention, but tonight he was more interested in the woman who'd greeted him earlier in the tight red dress. Amazingly beautiful, he thought while watching her moves on the dance floor. No youngster...but oh so alluring.

When the band took a break. Corey scurried off to the bar to place an order -- like any good assistant would -- knowing the boss would be thirsty. As he waited in line, a not unfamiliar voice came from behind, a smell of spearmint preceding it.

"You're Lauren Millers' PA, right?"

Corey turned and smiled. Stretch Madison himself.

"Yes, that's right."

"Enjoying the party?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Your boss, she's something else."

"That she is."

Madison offered Corey a mint. "She's got a ring. Is that just for show? Can't tell these days, some women wear them to ward off unwanted attention."

He's fishing, the project manager grinned as he took the white candy.

"It's not for show."

"Too bad."

The men looked over at a group of employees where Lauren was engrossed in conversation. Corey caught his wife's eye when she happened to glance their way. They widened upon seeing who he was talking with. Carefully crafting his next steps, the supportive husband continued.

"Um..., so, you own the Consortium, huh?"

"That's right," Stretch replied, his eyes not leaving Lauren.

The line moved forward, and Corey placed his drink order.

"Rumor is you're thinking of leaving Rekrap, taking your business elsewhere."

Madison tore his gaze from Lauren and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And how is that your concern?"

"Well, I for one like my job. So naturally, the more customers we have, the more secure it is."

Corey nodded towards his wife. "I also know of one pretty office manager that would probably be very appreciative if you signed a new contract."

The chemical mogul studied the personal assistant's face, letting what he was suggesting sink in.

"Is that a fact? I thought she was married."

Corey looked left, then right, like he had a big secret to share. Leaning in close, he nodded in Lauren's direction. "Married, but available."

"And how do you know this?"

"Simple. Does your secretary ever make dinner reservations for you and a date? Have you ever asked her to send flowers afterward? Has she ever been in the room when you're finishing up a private conversation?"

Stretch's features relaxed, understanding the gist. Of course, assistants know everything. He looked back to where the cute Rekrap executive had been, but she was no longer there.

"So exactly how long have you been working for..."

"What's it take for a girl to get a drink around here, boys?" Lauren piped up, suddenly appearing alongside the chatty men.

Corey turned and took two Long Island Teas from the bartender.

"It appears your assistant has you covered, Ms. Miller," Stretch commented.

"Please, call me Lauren. And yes, he does have my back."

"Here ya go," the incognito husband replied, handing both drinks to the businessman. "Well, Mr. Madison, see you around. And remember what I said."

"Carson" exited the line with a wave, looking over his shoulder just in time to see the middle-aged entrepreneur hand his wife the drink.

+++++

Lauren politely accepted the cocktail and clinked rims with Stretch Madison's glass. They both took a sip in silence.

"What was that about?" she asked of the mysterious parting words.

"Your PA seems to think Detrevrep isn't going to renew our contract. You know, Ms. Mil...Lauren, loose lips can sink ships."

Lauren giggled. "Lips can do a lot of things, Mr. Madison," she winked, hooking an arm through his. "But since we're on the topic, would you care to discuss what it would take to retain your business?"

The enthralled industrialist smiled. "I have some ideas," he said, holding his drink in the air, "and the name's Stretch. Perhaps we can review the terms later?"

Lauren returned the smile and led him back to the party. "Perhaps. And, for the record, my lips have never once sunk a sink."

Stretch Madison's grin got even bigger. "Oh, I wouldn't bet against that."

+++++

The band played a strong second set and had the crowd on their feet. Corey continued to circle the perimeter of the hall but abandoned all pretense of taking pictures. Instead, he focused on his wife and her newfound friend. The pair took to dancing like ducks to water. While the Iowan native had two left feet, Stretch was a dynamo, constantly showing his prowess. Lauren seemed delighted to have such a great partner as he twirled her about, easily transitioning from fast to slow songs. Not to be outdone, Angel Tagliatelle would occasionally cut in, much to the chagrin of his trophy date. Being overshadowed by business was one thing, but to be upstaged by a woman who had nearly 20 years on her was a hard pill to swallow.

For the most part, the dancing remained completely safe-for-work, nothing inappropriate, just a lot incidental touching. When Angel tapped in as Lauren's partner again, Corey took the opportunity to run to the restroom, believing his "boss" would be relatively safe on the dance floor with the renowned capitalist. Upon returning, however, he found that neither Angel nor his wife were on the dance floor. In fact, they weren't in the room at all.

Had she gone to the restroom? Possibly. Had Tagliatelle rejoined his date? No, Barbie was sitting by herself at Thermoset table, fuming.

Then where the hell is Lauren?

+++++

The petite office manager led Angel down a hallway to a row of identical breakout rooms, trying doors as they went. Finding one open, she pushed the Florida magnate towards the darkness and into a meeting chair, allowing the door behind them to click shut. Seconds later, Lauren was down on her knees and the wealthy business owner's cock was dangling through the fly of his tailored suit pants.

After rolling on a condom, she slurped, sucked and stroked his shaft with such enthusiasm that it was clear she wasn't just doing this out of duty, it was out of pure joy. Completely hard now, Tagliatelle leaned back in the chair and allowed her face to fuck him, using her mouth as cunt with a tongue. Wet, smacking, and gurgling sounds echoed through the dim and empty room.

"That's it baby, suck my dick. Jesus, that feels good."

"Mmmmphhfffff."

The pace at which Lauren attached his cock was truly amazing, and in his euphoria, Angel accidently grabbed the meticulously bunned hair atop her head, loosening it considerably. With each passing thrust, a bit more of her tresses came loose, strands of it falling around her ears and cheeks. Eventually the hair stick could not withstand the groping, and the silky black mane fell, cascading around her shoulders and back.