In Your Dreams Ch. 02

She counted down the days until Warren would be back in town. One more week. Two more days. Tomorrow. That morning, she was a bundle of nerves, waiting for his text with a room number and time. She drummed her fingers on her desk, hating not knowing and hating herself for not being able to play it cool.

Then her phone chirped. She forced herself to take it out of her purse slowly and unlock it.

"702." the text said. "@3.30."

There was a pause then another message arrived. "Can't wait," it read.

"Ok," she wrote back. "Me too."

She put the phone away and stood up. She felt jazzed and relieved. They were going to meet. She really couldn't wait - the time until 3:30 was going to drag forever; her time with him was going to be achingly short. But she was going to see him.

She wandered the hallways, unable to settle down. It was only eleven o'clock. She turned the corner and nearly collided with someone.

It was Yvonne. Really, the woman was everywhere.

"Oops," Yvonne said, grinning. "Sorry."

"That's okay," she told her. And it was. Today nothing mattered. She smiled back at Yvonne, silly foolish Yvonne. "Don't worry about it."

*****

Maria checked her watch. 3:35. Just late enough. She tapped on the door, her heart in her mouth.

The door opened and he was there in the doorway, naked, then his arms were around her and her hand was on his cock, her mouth against his.

He took a step back pulling her in. The door clicked shut.

"Wow," he said.

She smiled and touched his lips with her finger. "I'll be right back," she whispered. "I have a surprise."

In the bathroom, she pulled her dress over her head and unhooked her bra, then kicked off her shoes and pulled down her panties. She reached into her bag and took out something metallic - it was a backless halter top made of small rings of silver metal that she had found on the internet. She tied it at her neck and then at her waist and studied the effect. He would definitely like it, she thought, and smiled.

She opened the bag again and took out a pair of sandals. She crouched to tie them - they had long leather straps that wound high around her calves. Finally she put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses. She looked at herself again, enjoying the many reflected images, then turned off the light and went back into the bedroom.

He had turned off the light and lit candles, and he was reclining on the bed, his prick erect. "Oh my God," he said when he saw her.

She smiled at him and put her hands on her hips. The candlelight glittered on her halter top. "You like it?" she whispered.

"Come here," he said. "Come and fuck me."

She came over to the bed, then leaned down and kissed his prick, her tongue running along its length.

"Fuck me," he croaked again.

She took her mouth away. "Are you ready?" she asked. "Really ready?"

"Christ," he told her. "I'm so ready I'm dying."

She smiled and got on the bed. "Have you been thinking about me?" she asked. "Thinking about fucking me?"

"Please," he said hoarsely.

She straddled one of his thighs and rubbed her crotch against it. "Where's your condom?" she asked him.

"It's right here," he said, pulling one from under the pillow. She leaned down and kissed him, her tongue heavy in his mouth.

"It's not doing much good there," she whispered. "Don't you think you should put it on?"

She fucked him her favorite way, straddling his body with his prick up inside her. It was her most reliable road to pleasure, feeling him inside her but controlling the tempo and cadence with her body. He thrust his hands inside her halter and cupped and held her breasts.

"Kiss me," he murmured and she leaned down again.

"Hold my shoulders," she told him. "Grip them. Yes, like that."

She felt the pleasure building inside her. "Don't... change... anything... ah... yes... God." She writhed. "More," she whispered. "Squeeze my shoulders. Ah... Oh God."

"I need you," he said.

"Yes," she told him. "Just one... oh yes.."

He rolled over, pushing on top of her. His hands snaked under her halter again. "I'm fucking you," he told her. "Jesus."

She grabbed his ass cheeks and squeezed. "Fuck me!" she cried.

"Yes!" His hips were pounding with a frenzied rhythm, slamming his cock into her. He let out a tremendous bellow and she felt the spasm in his penis. "God!" he cried.

*****

She lay on the bed, listening to him splashing in the bathroom. She wondered what time it was. His phone was on the side table; she picked it up idly and froze. There was a text message showing on the screen. It was from Yvonne.

"Can't wait for tonight," it said. "My pussy's been dripping all day. xox."

The toilet flushed and she hastily put the phone down.

He came back into the bedroom. "Wow," he said. "That was... amazing." He got back into bed and snuggled up next to her. One hand went under her halter and cupped her breast.

"Warren," she said.

"Mmm?"

"I forgot to tell you," she said. "I can actually stay the night. My husband's in Denver tonight." It was a lie, of course, but not one that would be hard to get out of.

His hand stopped moving. "Tonight?" he asked.

"Isn't that great?" she said.

"Oh I'm sorry," he said. "I wish I'd known. I'm meeting Frank for dinner. He's filling me in on the marketing campaign for next quarter."

"Oh," she said. "Can't you meet him tomorrow?"

"I'm only in town until tomorrow afternoon," he said. "And I'm totally slammed until I have to leave." There was a pause.

"I could wait for you here," she said. "And after you're done with Frank..."

"These dinner meetings with Frank usually stretch into the small hours," he said ruefully. "Dinner with him is really a euphemism for a pub crawl."

She didn't say anything.

"Sorry," he said again, softly.

"No problem," she told him. She pushed his hand gently out from under her top and got out of bed. "Be right back," she whispered.

*****

In the bathroom Maria looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked tired and sad so she put the sunglasses back on. It really was a nice effect, she thought, the metallic halter and the mirror shades. She combed her hair, then got out her phone and took a selfie.

She knew what he'd say if she got angry. Who was she to talk about fidelity? At least he wasn't married. But she was mad. Really, really mad.

She took off the halter and put it back in the bag, then stooped and untied her sandals. She stood up and dressed, putting on her bra and panties, then the shoes and dress she had come in. She kept the shades on.

She took her phone again and started an email to Yvonne. She attached a screenshot of her text conversation with Warren, with the room number and time and the "Can't wait."

She left the message body empty and paused to think about the subject line. "He's a busy boy"? "Hope I didn't tire him out too much"? She rejected these and just titled the email "Warren".

She studied the selfie she'd taken a minute before. There was something medieval and martial about it, the halter and sunglasses gleaming like chain mail and visor, her jaw set in a firm straight line. She could attach it to the email. It would be payback for the stab she'd felt seeing Yvonne in the bullfighter hat at the restaurant, for all the ugliness she'd felt ever since. It would be awkward if Yvonne shared the email around but somehow Maria didn't think she would. She attached the photo, clicked Send and went back out to the bedroom.

Warren was startled to see her dressed. "You're leaving?" he asked. "But..."

"Yeah," she said.

"Are you pissed about Frank?" he asked. "Because... I'm really sorry..."

"No," she told him. "I just feel like there's going to be a storm and I don't want to get caught in it."

He stared at her. "A storm?" he asked, incredulously. "Where did you hear..."

But just then his phone started ringing.

"There it is now," she told him.

*****

She pressed the button for the elevator and waited. She'd have to stop at the gym on the way home and shower. Actually, a workout would feel good too.

The elevator door opened and she got in. Sending the email had been satisfying but she was still boiling inside. She pressed L and the doors closed and she felt the whoosh in her stomach as the car lumbered down.

She would need to set her phone to block his incoming calls and texts. It couldn't go on and she needed to make it stop. The door opened with a clang and she stepped out into the lobby.

Nights would be hard, she knew. The rage and shame would keep her awake for hours at a stretch, and when she did sleep, her body would taunt her with stunning erotic dreams about him.

Then there would be emails at work, reminding everyone that Warren would be back in town next month, next week, Tuesday, and if you need to see him, put time on his calendar. There would be Yvonne in the hallway and at meetings, not simpering anymore.

There was a large trash can shaped like an urn in the lobby, near the front door. Maria walked past it, then turned around and came back. The bag with the halter and the sandals landed at the bottom of the bin with a thump and a jangle.

It was time to move on.