Charity Dinner

I'd given him a glimpse and gotten glances back. Now I wanted his full attention.

"So what did you blurt out instead?" I asked as I put my hands between my knees, pushed my elbows together, and leaned forward towards him. I was just leaning in to hear him better, honest.

I'm lying. I did it so he'd look down my top. Hook: baited

I watched his eyes, his eyes watched my boobs. Just leaning in would probably have been enough, propping the girls up like that may have been overkill because as the view got better and better whatever he was going to say collapsed into a stutter. A thrill shot down my spine. Hook: sunk.

I grinned up into his eyes that were not looking back into mine, his face an expression that made me squeeze my thighs together and start wondering how best to not-so-subtly hint... and that's when I saw him out of the corner of my eye:

Kelvin.

Kelvin my brother, coming towards me out of the crowd. Kelvin my brother the socialite, who should have been boozing and schmoozing with a dozen ladies who would be at his hair salon the next morning, coming out of the crowd to check on his big sister and make sure she was alright. Kelvin my little brother who is a really great little brother, who does my hair for free and takes me to the fanciest parties and wants to make sure I am having a good time. Kelvin my little brother who is about to have the worst timing in the world.

I stared at him, willing him to make eye contact. I couldn't move my arms, I couldn't say anything, not without alerting Dixon and I probably had about five seconds before he escaped the glorious, mesmerizing power of my boobs. I shot at Kelvin with my eyes, willing my little brother to see me, to see them, and to get it. He did the first two, at least: he saw me, his face lit up in a smile, and he started to raise his hand. I shot at him again and he froze. Then I glanced quickly at Dixon, then I glanced very, very pointedly at Somewhere Else. Kelvin, still frozen, also glanced quickly at Dixon and noticed that Dixon was glancing for a very long time down my eighteen seventy-three at the outlet store top. My brother, my glorious amazing younger brother who does my hair and invites me to parties and does not cockblock me, turned right around and disappeared back into the crowd.

"Anita?"

I glanced at Dixon. "I'm sorry what?"

"I asked if I was boring you."

"No, sorry," I waved, "I thought I saw my brother over there."

He started to turn, "Oh, I'd like to..."

I released the girls and put my hand on his arm again. "Nope, not him. We could go find him later, though, if you'd like to meet him." Later, like tomorrow, after you've dragged me off to a hotel room somewhere and fucked me until I can't walk straight. You know Dixon, my tits look even better out of this top...

"Your turn," he interrupted.

I coughed. For a second I wasn't sure if I'd said that in my head or out loud, but Dixon's question and expression confirmed it: I had not just asked him to fuck me until I couldn't walk straight. Not yet. We weren't quite there yet.

"My turn for what?" I asked. Come on Anita, get your head out of the gutter and back in the game!

"To tell your story. Worst story about your name."

"Worst, huh?" I asked, dredging around.

"Worst," he confirmed.

"Oh shit," I muttered, thinking, "mine is nowhere near as good as yours."

"You've got to have a good one."

"Oh I've got a dozen good ones. Probably high school for me too, new year and this grandmotherly social studies teacher, she must have been a few years past retirement already and the nicest lady. She's doing roll call the first day and I'm whispering away with my best friend and don't hear her calling me: "Wang? Anita Wang? Anita Wang here?" Everyone's giggling and snickering and she has no idea, and finally the guy behind me pokes me and I look up. The whole class is staring at me and Mrs. Beck is staring at me and she calls: "Everyone? Anita Wang?" All I want to do is sink into my chair so badly that I can't even squeak "present," and she calls it out again before my bestie raises my hand and says "she's right here, Mrs. Beck." I got a friendly but stern glare and told "Ms. Wang, please pay better attention in future." I wanted to die."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Dixon said, although he was smiling.

"But she was so nice, and she had no clue!" I responded. "And anyway, after that I was also called Ms. Wang. And a joke got going, did you miss your wang, because I heard Mrs. Beck needed it. I could handle it, I'd been handling it for years but I was embarrassed as hell for Mrs. Beck. She was my third most favorite teacher."

"So you could handle it but Mrs. Beck couldn't?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, or at least I thought she couldn't. Looking back she raised four boys so I'm pretty sure she could handle anything."

"Thanks for sharing," he said, taking a sip of his drink. Okay, a sip of the ice at the bottom of his drink; he'd swapped to something different after those first few but I was still drinking fuzzy navels, or had been but the bartender hadn't been around in a while. I glanced down at my empty glass and suddenly this felt like the right time, now because I was a little drunk and a lot horny and he was a little drunk and a lot hot; now before the bartender got back, now was the time for... for not-so-subtle hints.

But I needed a segue.

"I know it's not quite as much fun as yours. Sorry it didn't end with any, you know," I told him. Okay, too subtle and honestly cringeworthy. Look maybe I'm not the best with pickup lines either but it's hard to think when you're hoping that tonight's story will end with some you know.

"How could it? You were missing your wang."

I gawped. "I've known you for what, a couple of hours and you do this to me. I've already decided I hate you."

He laughed. I liked his laugh. I liked his laugh a lot and I wanted him to do it more, hopefully while inside me.

You know what? Time for not so subtle hints.

"How about best?" I segued, putting my hand back on his arm; in the back of my mind a plan was starting to come together. A cunning plan. A not-so-subtle plan.

"Best what?" he responded.

"Best story about your name."

He looked thoughtful. "Oh, um, hmmm. I'm not sure I've got one."

I smiled at him, "Okay, I'll go first then. Best story about my name. Want to hear it?"

"Yeah."

"Hey Dixon," I said, heart pounding in my throat as I desperately tried to keep my smile at just amused instead of... well.

"Yeah?" He looked a little confused.

"Can you do me a favor?" Keep it together, don't smile...

"I thou... yeah, sure, what is it?"

I couldn't do it, the grin broke out. I leaned in, feeling that smile pull my face, my eyes, stretch from ear to ear as I whispered into his. It may not have been the best line, but I was betting on it working anyway.

"I need a wang."

"Wha..." he started and then paused. Then I swear I heard the relay click in his head; his arm tensed and he sucked in a rapid breath followed by a murmured "oh fuck..." His fingers tightened on my knee. When had he grabbed my knee? Suddenly it was like all my nerves were firing a hundred times brighter the moment he'd whispered those words and his fingers twitching on my bare knee... Holy shit no don't take it away leave that hand there, actually even better put the other one on and spread my... no, shit, no we need to...

"I'm in a hotel a couple of blocks away," he whispered in my ear.

Yeah, yeah, that we need to that. Hotel. Go. I grabbed the Frauda off the counter.

"Let me text my brother," I said, popping it open and fumbling for my phone, "do not go anywhere. Nowhere. And um..."

He stared at me. "Yes?"

"Leave your hand there."

He grinned. "Here? Not..." and he pushed his fingers under the hem of my skirt.

"No, there's good too," I gasped, feeling the tingle shoot from my knees up my spine, legs tensing as I fumbled with my phone. He is still moving why is he still passcode passcode shit why can I not remember my passcode maybe it has something to do with the hard, warm hand sliding up my...

"You know," I heard myself saying, "maybe I'll just text him later."

"Better do it now," Dixon said from somewhere far too close to my ear for clear thought, "won't you be busy later?"

"Have you got plans?" I asked. Five eight four seven three yes I'm in shit okay "Headed out stay have fun" send done...

"I've got a job interview," he said.

And the thought train crashed.

Um... what?

"What?" I said out loud.

He grinned. "Aren't you looking for someone to fill a few openings?"

The spell broke and that moment of intensity, that bubble around us, popped. Oh I was still riled up as fuck and his fingers still felt like liquid magic halfway up my thigh but I could suddenly think through it all. I laughed. He laughed. I tried in my new clarity to gracefully dismount the barstool where I'd been sitting and drinking for the last however long and succeeded at the dismounting part but not the gracefully part. Warm, strong hands caught me as I grabbed for the counter. Tingles. Fucking everywhere.

"You okay?" he asked.

"You can leave your hands there, too," I murmured.

"Anywhere else?" he asked.

"Anywhere you like," I replied, then, just to make sure things were clear I made eye contact and added: "anywhere."

The trip back through the party was a bit of a blur. There were more chairs out, I know because I had to weave through them on my way out which is a lot harder to do when you're a bit drunk, wearing heels, and holding hands with a man who is desperate to get you back to his bedroom so he can fuck you senseless. There was a light show going on in one of the other rooms, along with whatever string band was playing. There was some guy doing something with fire on the end of a stick. There was not a tiger... but there was a much smaller cat riding around on someone's shoulders that did not look like a housecat. This was probably my one chance to see crazy rich people shit and I was missing it. String quartets, hawks, giant cats, famous actors, and all. And I did not care. I liked my plans better.

"Have a good night, Mr. Sider," the suit at the door said as we brushed past. Dixon gave a polite "good night." I just gave him an "I'm getting laid" grin; I'm not sure if he picked up on it though. The hallway outside was nearly empty and we almost ran down it to the elevator bank at the far end where a man in a silly red uniform waited by the elevator to push the button. No, really, a pimple-faced boy with a silly hat was standing there just to push the down button as we got closer, although in the moment I was very appreciative for the five seconds he saved us

When the elevator arrived it was empty, which was good because it only took about three seconds after the door closed before we were all over each other. I don't know what would have happened if there had been company, if we would have just stood there holding hands bristling with sexual tension or if I still would have pulled him down and jammed my tongue down his throat.

Okay so subtlety'd gone out the window at this point. As for the pulling he was a good few inches taller than me so even in heels it was necessary to get a little help. I grabbed him by the shirt collar with both hands, stood on my tippy toes, and jammed my lips against his. Full tongue, because that was the kind of mood I was in, and while he met me just as eagerly the tongue may have caught him by surprise. My hands pulled tight on his shirt. His hand grabbed my boob. He jammed his body against mine, pushing me up against the wall, pressing our hips together and leaning into me as my head bonked the wall and our teeth clicked hard enough to send a shot of pain through my face. We broke away for a second, giggling, his hand going to his mouth but both of us still staring into each other's eyes.

"I really want you," he said through his fingers.

"I really want you inside me," I replied.

He groaned. "I can manage that, but..."

"But what?"

He was breathing hard. "It's going to be a long walk to the hotel."

Then the elevator dinged and we had just enough time to step apart before the door opened. My hair was probably mussed, our clothes were definitely mussed, and my makeup had likely seen better days but movies had apparently lied to me: there was no line of people waiting for the elevator in the lobby, ready to be stunned by our obvious elevator tryst. There was barely anybody in the lobby period, actually, since this was mostly an office building by day and the one security guard at the desk was too busy staring at his tablet. Unlike the guy upstairs he didn't merit a wave or a grin, we just speedwalked out the door, my heels clicking on the fake marble floor, and out into the surprisingly chilly night.

"Fuck I should have brough a coat!" I gasped.

"You want mine?" Dixon asked.

"You're not wearing one."

He laughed. "Well, I was when I showed up."

"Left in a hurry, did you?"

"Well, I met this girl, we hit it off, and I just can't wait until my di..."

"Don't," I said.

"What?" he responded, laughing with his eyes, and I grabbed at his hand. "Just come on."

"Anita?"

"What?"

He pulled me the other way, "my hotel's this way."

It was only two blocks, like he'd said, but it was two remarkably cold blocks wearing a nearly sleeveless top and a skirt that didn't go down past my knees. You can only run so fast in heels, too, but I ran as best I could, giggling, holding on to Dixon's hand as he dragged me behind.

"Keep up!"

"Keep your pants on!"

"No longer than I have to!"

Then we were passing through the doors of a very tall building, flashing back to the elevator as a much older gentleman in a much less silly suit held the doors for us and said "Good evening, sir, madam." We crossed the much more appointed and occupied lobby, feeling the warm air on the chill of my skin, and into another elevator, this one occupied.

This time there was no grinding liplock; this time we just stood, shoulder to shoulder, hands gripped tightly together, watching one another out of the corners of our eyes and trying not to laugh as we rode in silence with an older, distinguished looking couple. I glanced at the tall, handsome, funny man next to me with the little grey in his temples and a little of my lipstick on his face, and laughed. We'd been doing a lot of laughing, and I realized I was pretty drunk. And horny. I wondered if the couple would mind if we made out. I wondered how long it would take to get to his room. I did not wonder if a drunk hookup with the rich handsome brother of the super rich trophy wife was a good idea. Instead I wondered what he'd look like naked. Naked on top of me. Naked on top of me and inside me.

The other couple got off two floors before us. We still didn't jump each other but stood, waiting very impatiently as the doors closed and the elevator started up again.

"You're bouncing," Dixon said.

"Am not."

"You're bouncing. You're bouncing so hard I'm surprised the elevator isn't bouncing too."

"I'm impatient."

"Why would that be, Miss Wang?"

Because I'm about to get my brains fucked out.

"Does being horny always make you this dumb?"

"Only when the girl's as hot as you."

The elevator dinged so I wasn't left with enough time to decide whether that line was good or bad. Then Dixon was dragging me out of the elevator, down the hall, and around the corner, me giggling the whole way and trying not to fall down on heels that were suddenly very difficult to walk in. He stopped at the third door down and started fumbling in his pockets.

I slid up behind him, pressing my tits against his back, grinding against his ass, sliding my hands around his body to almost reach his...

"Anita, um-"

"This girl," I murmured in his ear, "wants your dick inside her..."

He groaned. "You're making this really hard..."

"That's the point," I giggled, and slid my hands down his thighs.

"Just... hold on a moment... it's here somewhere..."

Okay so I was a bit in the way, my arms around him were making it hard to get to his pocket but... oh no. I had a sudden, horrible moment when I remembered that his coat was back at the party. What if he kept his key in his coat, and we had to call someone up here to open his door for him? Or go back down to the lobby? It wouldn't take that long but I was dripping down my legs at this point, if he didn't get that door open in the next ten seconds I might just jump him right here in the hall.

"Dixon," I started, and my hands moved of their own accord to...

"Found it!" he interrupted, fishing his wallet out of his pocket, "I just need to um... uh... Anita... um..."

"Hurry," I mumbled into his back. I was not helping.

"Kind of hard," he responded.

"Yes, you are," I said back, "now get the door open before I pull it out right here." My hands had slid between his legs and now I could feel the bulge in his pants, rock hard and straining against his fly, and I cupped it, squeezing gently. I love cupping a man's package, although I prefer it just in underwear; there's something about the whole thing bundled together, balls and cock bagged up in a layer of soft fabric, that gets me going. I like to look at it. I like to feel it. It's better when he's only a little hard and I get to fondle it while it grows thicker and thicker but hard as a rock works too and...

"Holy fuck," I whispered. Holy fuck how much was he packing in there?

I knew I shouldn't do it, I knew we were in the hallway and that I really wasn't helping him get that door open but I couldn't help myself: I curled my fingers around his shaft through his slacks and started to stroke. I felt him twitch and throb and fuck my panties were soaked. I stroked. He groaned. He fumbled the card and the door lock beeped a big red no but my hands had a mind of their own at this point.

Then the door beeped again, a happy noise with a happy green light and Dixon pushed it open hurriedly, dragging me in with him as he stumbled across the threshold. I lost my grip on him as he pulled at my arms, his foot kicking the door closed behind us. Then he was dragging me down a short hall, spinning me around, and tossing me on a startlingly soft bed. I squeaked, laughing.

I tossed the Frauda. I'd lost a shoe somewhere between the door and here so I kicked the other one off as I felt his weight on the bed near my knees. Then Dixon was on top of me, body pinning me down, all warm and strong and close. His mouth found mine hungrily, too hungrily because as he went in for the kiss our teeth clicked together again and sent a jolt through my jaw.

"Fuck!" I laughed, "stop that!"

"Shut up and suck my tongue," he growled, pressing his lips back to mine.

Oh well shit, how could I turn that one down? I kissed him for a moment longer and then felt his tongue push against my lips. I opened them, felt his tongue slide through, met it with mine and our tongues danced for a few seconds before I sealed my lips back up and sucked. His tongue twitched for a moment before I slid off..

"Like that?"

"Yes."

So I did it again.

"Kiss me, " he growled into my mouth.

I returned the favor, growling back, and did as he asked. He climbed further on top of me, lowering his body against mine as our lips mashed together and oh shit oh shit I could feel his bulge now pressed against my pussy and I lifted my hips, spreading my legs so my skirt rode up and then there was nothing between us but my panties and why the fuck was he still wearing pants?

"Take it off," I murmured against his lips, "take it off take it all off I want to see you I want to feel you!"

"You can feel me now," he murmured, grinding against me. I could, not very well though; I could feel his grin a whole lot better.