Business

Mack sat at the table in Antoine's. Nervously. The table was in a prime spot, the client was a big deal and Abby had been gone about thirty seconds too long. "She'll be right back, I'm sure she's fine. We had a long day with the flight down here and all."

His rotund, big deal client, Mr. Landreth tipped his whiskey at a precarious angle swallowed and sat the empty glass down with a clink. His face brightened as the missing woman slipped back into her chair. He greeted her merrily upon her return, "Oysters gettin to ya, miss?" The Louisiana accent was just as rich as the ettouffee and the whiskey.

"Oh, no, They're delicious. They slide right down. Sometimes a girl just has to fix her makeup, Mr. Landreth." Abby patted his fleshy hand with her delicate fingers and Landreth laughed, oblivious as she slid her napkin toward her husband with a message on the corner reading, "how much longer"

Mack smiled a "this is business, we'll just have to put up with him for as long as he wants to talk" smile; until she reached across the table and slipped the panties into his hand. Recognizing the feel of the fabric, he pulled his hand off the table and wide eyed shot glances at his wife and their guest.

Landreth was worrying the final oyster from its shell. Abby merely smiled.

The panties, silk with lace edges, taunted the palm of his hand but were dropped with lack of interest as Abby reached under the table and pulled his hand between her smooth, bare thighs. Business was not that important anymore.

"Check! We're going to need to get the check Mr Landreth." Mack scanned the restaurant floor for any sign of staff.

The waiter returned with maddening slowness, reviewed the order and made a correction with the speed of a sloth. Landreth barely made an attempt to reach for the tab. Mack expected no different, slipping his gold card into the holder and passing it to the waiter before the man could saunter away. The three stood, the men shaking hands, Abby placing a discreet kiss on Landreth's gin blossom cheek. Mack smiled, that deal would close, no questions asked. At last, with a final handshake he took Abby's elbow and led her from the restaurant, her silk panties waiting for discovery on the five-star restaurant's carpeted floor.

New Orleans humidity hit them like a smack in the face and before they had walked a full block their skin was bathed in fine perspiration. Neither spoke. At a darkened street corner he stopped and pushing her backwards, trapped her in a deserted doorway.

His mouth was on her's before she could breath and his hands were on her thighs and then just as quickly on her bare ass. The night air circulated under her lifted skirt as he kneaded her soft flesh, then boldly, he slipped one hand around to her pelvis and between her legs. His fingers moved quickly as they found their way to her own moist and humid place and she gasped and threw her head back against the plate glass of the door. The old wood creaked in response to the pressure of their bodies as he worked his fingers inside her.

The whoop of a group of frat boys down on Bourbon broke the spell and as quickly as he had begun, he removed his hands from her bare flesh. He replaced one hand on her elbow and the other he slipped into his mouth...fingers only...the taste of her a suitable finish to the evening meal.

The hotel was at the next corner. They arrived in silence and sweat and he took the fingers until recently inside her and slowly pressed the button to call the rickety old elevator.

She turned to face him as the car arrived and the doors slid open. "I hope you aren't finished..."

"Hardly. Now get in." His grasp on her elbow tightened and he moved her inside the oak paneled lift. She reached to press the button for floor six but he pushed her away and into the corner.

"No," was all he said. Turning, he took a key from his jacket pocket and as the elevator began its ascent, he slipped the key into the emergency slot on the control panel. The car came to a lurching halt. "Too bad they have such trouble with these old elevators. They should really call someone to fix them." He spoke calmly as he returned to look at the woman in the corner.

"Now, about your behavior at dinner. That was a four star restaurant. You were decidedly under dressed."

"What do you mean!" she shot back. "This dress cost nearly two hundred dollars and these heels are LaBoutin."

"You know what I mean. Turn around and lift your skirt." He moved closer. "Do it now."

Abby stared into his eyes, daring him without a word but he was taller and stronger and when she failed to comply he took her by the shoulders and spun her. With both hands holding her, he leaned into her back. His breath was hot on her neck, hotter than the humid street, hotter than the stagnant air of the elevator. "Raise your skirt," he said again.

Gingerly, she reached behind and eased the expensive fabric up over her thighs and her rounded bare ass resting her hands at last on the small of her back. Even though she knew what was coming, the first smack took her by surprise and she gasped and gave a tiny jump as his right hand landed on her naked butt.

"Do you know what sort of trouble you could have caused, slipping your underwear across the table like that?" Two more smacks were delivered -- one to each quivering cheek -- then three more.

He leaned into her again and she felt his breath and the weight of his chest. She felt the cold metal of his belt buckle and below it, the swell in his pants. Pressing into her, his hand landed two more hits and the swell of his cock grew with each contact made. She pressed back into him.

"No," he spoke firmly. "Not like this. Turn around." He smacked her ass once more and spun her to face him. Hands on her shoulders, he pressed downward, his head giving her the motion which with he intended her to follow.

Slowly, she began to slide to her knees. Her dress, released from her grasp, slipped coolly over her stinging backside as her fingers began to work at the buckle of his belt. Her thighs quivered as she knelt down and deeper inside a tingling sensation had begun.

"God, are you going to move as slow as that waiter? It must be this damn humidity." He spit the words at her, but a smile tickled the corners of his mouth and he released her shoulders for a brief time and undid the buckle and the button of his trousers.

She smiled back and keeping her eyes on his, she lowered his zipper and slipped her fingers inside. His cock, pressing tightly against the cotton of his briefs, sprang free as she found the opening. A glistening drop of cum formed at its tip and without a word, she leaned towards it and with the tip of her tongue, licked it free.

It was his turn to gasp.

She let her tongue lick the tip of him once more then moving slowly again, she slid her tongue down the length of his shaft. He throbbed in response and she slid her tongue back and forth, up and down until neither thought he could grow much larger.

"Put me in your mouth," he said, the words barely a whisper. His hands back on her shoulders he pulled her closer.

She opened her red lips and exhaling she took him into her. Her hot breath brought one final swell as his cock stretched to meet her mouth and its promising, heavenly wetness. She kept him deep inside and let her tongue move around, getting a feel for the thickness of him, the bulge at the head, the pliable vein. Her breath took in his musky scent, of soap and cotton and gulf inspired perspiration and she sucked harder.

His hands were now on the crown of her head, guiding her movement to his pleasure. She moved her mouth as he directed, along his shaft -- licking at the base, sucking his head. She broke free and moved deeper into his briefs, darting her tongue around his balls, his scent stronger, arousing a primal need deep inside her own groin. The tingling increased.

He moaned quietly and pulled her back to him, tucking his cock back into her mouth. She sucked deeply then stopped with just the head of his penis in her mouth, her tongue gently swished back and forth in tiny waves as he tried to contain the beginning flow. A tiny bit of cum slipped out and she sucked harder. He twisted his fingers in her hair and once again began the rhythmic movement he craved.

She obliged and as he directed she sucked and lapped at him until tiny spasms, began deep inside his thick hot shaft. The spasms began to swell until he no longer tried to hold them back, or even cared to try.

"Oh god," he gasped and she moved closer, his cum spilling hotly into her mouth. Its salty bitterness washing across her tongue and she sucked harder and he shuddered and thrust himself deeper into her mouth.

A shrill, metallic buzzer brought them both back. Their breath coming in short bursts; he pulled her to her feet and began to buckle his belt. She smoothed her skirt and then with shaking fingers, she pulled his zipper up, over his still swollen cock. The tingling inside her was relentless.

He pulled the key from its place on the panel and slipped it into his jacket pocket, grasping her elbow as the lift began to move once more, descending this time to its home.

"I hope you aren't finished...yet," she said as the car came to a stop and the doors slid open.

"Oh my, were you stuck for very long?" Mr. Landreth stood in the lobby, his face flushed, beads of sweat dripping at his temples.

"No," she replied. "Not nearly long enough. Honey, I don't think this elevator will do it for me tonight. Let's take the stairs."

He followed her to the stairwell as Mr. Landreth muttered something about walking six flights. The older man stopped just shy of the door and returned to the elevator as in the echo of the stairwell he heard the smack of skin against bare flesh and a woman's squeal of delight.