Coat Closet Reuniting

They knew they only had a short time before their absence would be noticed. That they had gotten up and exited the room near the same time was nothing to make note of, but both being gone for much longer than it takes to use the restroom would be scrutinized.

Knowing their spouses were jealous of their "past" friendship, and it could be assumed neither were thrilled they were all in attendance at the same party.

However, this wouldn't damper their thrill, excitement, and mounting desire. It had been years. Even though they exchanged the occasional checking-in and what-if text messages, occupying the same space after so long felt like a monumental ordeal, and it was going without saying no opportunity would be wasted.

Near the front entrance of the restaurant he had spotted a small side room that looked unoccupied, perhaps previously used as a coat check in, and messaged her a simple "follow my lead." Having watched him leave the table and exchange a few pleasantries while exiting the private party room, she leaned in to her husband and excused herself to use the ladies room. Without making eye contact with any other attendees, she quickly made her escape. And that's exactly what it felt like.

An escape. It was accompanied by a sense of urgency, the unknown, all the fantasies of their reuniting hammering her mind all at once. She spotted him down the hallway, and couldn't keep in the smile as he looked over his shoulder confirming she was following.

As soon as she cleared the threshold of the small dark room, he quietly secured the door, locking it in place. Before she had the chance to even whisper a hello, he turned her, shoved her to the wall and positioned himself behind her.

She didn't protest. If she were to be 100% honest, she, too, preferred skipping the small talk.

They avoided talking before tonight about what would happen or set any expectations, rather agreeing to simply be grateful to steal glances and hear each other's voices. But now, having all her senses assaulted by this man, she gave up control to her body, and to him.

He leaned in, pressing his hardness against her ass, seemingly to fit perfect with her size and shape. They'd originally met when so young and never been able to fully explore one another how they'd wished. So far it was much better than imagined.

Sliding his hands along her arms, he gripped her wrists keeping her hands planted firmly against the wall. She had caught herself when he'd shoved her to the wall, and he couldn't help but think this is exactly where he wanted her.

She'd grown accustomed to being intimate at a comfortable, familiar level with her husband, and realized she hadn't been this turned on in a long time. If this was to be the only chance she was ever granted to be in this man's arms, she wasn't going to waste a second of it.

She took advantage of wall leverage and pushed her butt back into his hardness. This earned her an almost growl along with a "don't". He moved his left hand down to her hip area pushing her mid section back into the wall. Too much too fast and it's all be over before it even began. They are still touching body to body with just a little less pressure on his cock.

Of course, being the brat she is, she does it again. Arching her back, her ass finds his hard cock again, this time grinding a bit more with the move of her hips back and forth, slowly. This really elicits a reaction from him.

His right hand releases her wrist and slides up the back of her neck taking a handful of hair as if it belongs to him, as if he's done this to her a hundred times before. Using his grip, he turns her head to the side. His lips on her ear in an instant. Left hand again pushing down firmly to lessen the pressure on his cock, determined to do this in his time.

More forcefully this time, he issues a "don't".

Her right cheek is pressed against wall, most likely leaving a smudge of makeup behind as evidence of this encounter. Sensing the rise in tension she smiled, but he failed to see it as he was busy devouring her neck in kisses. Using the handful of hair, he forcefully pulls her head back exposing more bare skin of her neck. Being careful to not leave marks, his kisses became more aggressive.

He takes a deep breath, nostrils filling with her scent. He commits it to memory and swears himself to never forget it.

He hears her moan ever so slightly, and that does it. In one swift motion, he drops both hands from her and steps away creating some distance between them. He takes in the sight of her, hands flat bracing herself, breasts and cheek alike pressed against the wall, her hips and ass pushed outward begging for his attention. It's a gaud damn work of art. She breaks his mesmerized stare by turning, only to divert his eyes to hers. Her pupils are damn near blacked out with desire.

His eyes, she'd seen them in pictures over the years, but never did she realize the literal searing capability of them. Dark. Demanding. Full of desire, to match her own. Her chest rises and falls heavily. All of a sudden, this room doesn't feel large enough for him and air to breathe.

Sharing the same space is so different, to be able to see his full reaction, rather than a frozen moment via a captured image. Being in his presence is more thrilling than she had remembered. She is soon distracted by the throbbing in her most sensitive areas. She could easily feel her nipples straining against her bra, the swell of her pussy lips, the wetness daring to run down the inside of her leg. Allowing herself to lean back into the wall, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other pleading with her inner goddess the friction of her thighs will offer some form of relief.

No words were spoken. None were needed. For the second time their bodies collided. He scoops up her face in his hands, lips crashing together. Tasting each other for the first time in decades, he of beer, she of sweet wine. Perfect lips, soft, hungry, willing. Neither needs any more encouragement.

She reaches down sliding her hands to his swollen cock. She feels it respond at her touch, twitching. He deepens their kiss, sliding his tongue along her bottom lip, biting gently. One of her hands grabs at his belt, the other at the zipper of his pants. His hands moving to slip the straps of her dress off her shoulders.

She soon has his pants falling to the floor, and her dress rests on her hips. He tugs away the cloth of her bra exposing a nipple. Thumbing it, he makes eye contact with her. She doesn't break their stare as she takes his warm, stiff cock in her hands. It's all he can do to keep his eyes open. She bites her lip. He pinches her nipple.

Taking in the sight before him, he feels the weight of her boob, the warmth and softness of her skin. He's not sure how his brain is sending any direction to the rest of his body, but his hands are complying.

He reaches down, gathering the material of her dress up like a venetian blind. Once the hem of her dress is found, he wastes no time finding the moist patch of her panties, his fingers firmly rubbing, first on the fabric, feeling the shape of her lips, then sliding in from the delicate elastic of the leg hole. A shiver runs from her mid section in both directions up and down her body. She isn't even embarrassed. She wants him to know how badly she wants him, and fears words aren't enough, but her body won't lie.

Involuntarily, she tips her head back and at the same time spreads her legs wider. He takes this as an invitation and slowly sinks two fingers into the center of her universe. She reaches an arm up covering her own mouth, biting on the back of her hand stifling a moan. Her legs start shaking and he cups her entire breast to assist in holding her up.

She's about to come undone. His fingers feel incredible. And just as she's thinking it feels so good, he adds a third finger, completely filling her intimate opening, stretching it. She's wet enough he has no trouble achieving an even, solid rhythm of finger fucking her. His thumb rubbing her clit, and pinky slapping her ass with each thrust of his hand.

The shaking begins again, this time starting in her shoulders soon followed by the contractions of a strong orgasm on his fingers.

"Please," she said barely above a whisper.

Fuck, the word he so many times dreamt her pleading to him.

"Please, what?" he asked.

"Please," she breathed again.

"Please, what?" he demanded.

"Take me. Fuck me. Everything we ever talked about and wanted. Take your pick. Just....please."

Knowing he had this effect on her was almost his undoing. He fought for control of the primal animalistic urge to devour her. He'd long possessed the knowledge she had a grip on him, but didn't expect it to feel this close to uncontrollable.

But that's exactly where this situation has pushed him. To no control. Before she's even finished her climax, he pulls his fingers out, reaches for his cock, and guides himself to her opening. Without hesitation, he thrusts himself into her, fingers now sinking into her hip. His other hand automatically goes to her neck, wrapping his fingers around, feeling her every raspy breath entering and exiting her pretty little throat.

She is still writing with a strong orgasm and three thrusts in, he joins her, filling her with reckless abandon. It isn't until his own sensations of bliss lessen, does he feel her nails digging into his wrist. Both her hands are gripping his forearm of the hand he has around her throat.

Shit. How hard had he squeezed? Did he hurt her? The smile on her face tells him otherwise.

Moving his hands to her shoulders to help steady her, he leans in for a slow passionate kiss. They both moan in unison.

"Shit" he says as their kiss ends.

"Tell me about it" she jokes.

They both busy themselves with redressing and catching their breath.

He finds it interesting not another word is exchanged before she unlocks the door and exits. He knows they will discuss this in depth the next time they message.

She's glad he didn't try to have a closing conversation before she slipped out the door. Her brain is in complete blackout, and it takes every bit of concentration she can muster to make it to the ladies room to clean up.

Sliding his belt back through the loop, he straightens his tie and leaves the coat room. Shit, how long have they been gone? Minutes, a half hour, more? He pulls his phone from his pocket. Exiting the party room earlier, he'd dialed a colleague. When the phone range through he'd ended the call, knowing full well his buddy would almost immediately call him back, and he had. Evidence of a missed called and returning to the table on phone with coworker is proof enough for the Mrs as to why he was gone so long.

His buddy answers and is greeted with request for confirmation that an important memo had been sent out the day before. Reentering the party room he's glad to see no one seems to pay him any attention. Timing his cover-up story perfectly, he sits down next to his accusatory looking wife just has he thanks his buddy by name and wishes him well saying he'll see him in office next week. He is horny, but he isn't careless. Repocketing his phone he leans over and whispers to his wife, "Missed a call while taking a piss." Looking satisfied, and relieved, she smiles and squeezes his thigh under the table.

Out of his peripheral vision he takes in the sight of the woman who has just bewitched him, leaning down to kiss her husband sweetly on the cheek as she rejoins the party.

Fuck. She's just as cunning as he.

And he loves every fucking second of it.