Menage a Trois Ch. 11

We ate in silence until we had both satisfied our hunger. I cleared the plates and when I returned to the table Sandy had loosened her robe further so that her tits were fully exposed. I felt my cock begin to grow in response.

"So are you going to tell me about London now?"

"Yes."

"And include all the nasty details like I did when I told you about Angel and Rachel."

"Okay."

When I left here last week I was still thinking about the conversation we had about having an open marriage. I knew I had said I was okay with that idea, but I was still struggling with it. I wasted a lot of time chewing on the issue as I flew across the Atlantic, when I should have been preparing for the meeting I was traveling to attend. The concept of open marriage seemed okay to me on an intellectual basis, and I wasn't feeling any jealousy about the flings you had with Rachel and Lisa. The question I was struggling with was how much emotional guilt I would feel if I stepped out again—even though I had told you that I would and you had agreed to it. I was sure you meant it, but I wasn't sure you really knew how you would react, and I was afraid I would hurt you and that I would lose you.

Before I reached London I decided that the only way to resolve the issue was to try it and find out. If I fucked someone else, and I felt terrible about it, or you felt terrible about it, well that would answer the question, wouldn't it, I decided.

This was all very abstract you understand. It wasn't that I had decided I was going to have a fling on this trip to London and was going to go looking for it. I just told myself I would be open to it—just once—to see how it felt and how it worked between us. That resolved my quandary for the short term and allowed me to focus on the work I needed to do.

Her head sure works differently than mine, I thought. I'm more inclined to just do things and then ask myself for forgiveness later. And the idea of turning off a mental conversation about extramarital sex and plunging into arcane accounting issues was beyond me. I kept my mouth shut as she continued to talk.

The first day of our meeting I was pretty fully engaged. The conversation was focused on accounting issues that I needed to weigh in on. The next three days were covering topics of little or no significance to me. I could just as well have come back to New York, but the client wanted me to stay.

As I sat there going slowly out of my mind with boredom, my mind returned to our newly revised marriage rules. I wasn't revisiting the decision I made on the plane, mind you. I was just considering how I could implement it. I was looking around the room for someone I thought I could screw. There were a lot of men in the room and a few women, and several of them looked like good candidates, except for one detail that had nothing to do with my marriage. In my line of work it's a bad idea to be screwing people you work with, in your own firm, in your client's firm, and certainly not the regulators. Those guys were definitely hands off. I thought I was going to have to look elsewhere for a partner until I glanced to my right. There was a middle-aged English gentleman sitting next to me. He was really quite handsome, in a sort of oh-so-British tweedy way. He was tall and lanky, with salt and pepper gray hair that matched his tweed suit, and so far as I knew he didn't work for our firm, the client, or any of the regulatory agencies in the room. His nametag said "Liam."

How dreadful I thought—a meeting so large everyone has to have nametags.

We chatted a bit during one of the numerous breaks the English are inclined to take. It turned out that he was an actuary present at the meeting just in case someone wanted to discuss that incredibly arcane footnote to the financials that dealt with pension reserves. Dreadful stuff, really, but I noticed that he was having a hard time maintaining eye contact, his eyes continually straying to my breasts. That was when I decided to seduce him.

When we returned to the meeting I reclaimed my seat next to Liam. As I sat down I hiked my skirt up so most of my thighs were uncovered. I was right about his interests. He was trying to appear focused on the PowerPoint presentation on the screen at the end of the room, but most of the time he was staring at my thighs.

"Was this making you horny?" I asked.

"Oh god yes," Sandy responded before resuming her tale.

I could feel my pussy warming and becoming damp. But what to do next? I didn't want to let him off the hook with just staring at my thighs, and I didn't know him. He might be too shy to make a pass at me. Then I had an idea—an idea I borrowed from a lewd story you told me a few weeks ago. I discreetly excused myself and quietly left to go to the ladies' room. Once there and securely in a stall I stripped off my panties and my bra. I had no place to put them, so I stuffed the bra into the trash bin, and I was about to do the same with my panties when I had a really nasty idea. I balled them up in my hand and walked quickly back to the conference room.

I wasn't sure I had the courage to do what I was planning. In my college days I had done this and worse without any qualms, but now I was the KPMI's partner in charge of the audit of a major company. This was different somehow. As I sat down, I pulled my dress up again, exposing even more of my thighs this time. Then I leaned over to Liam and whispered, "Did I miss anything?"

"God, no," he said. "Same boring stuff they have been at for the last two hours."

As he spoke, I placed my hand in his lap. I moved it just a bit so it stroked his cock and, then as I pulled away I left my panties behind.

Liam looked down at the panties, confirming they were what he thought they were, looked at me, and raised an eyebrow in that most British of ways. Then he knocked his pen off the table. When he bent down to pick it up, he brought the panties quickly to his nose and spent a moment, perhaps too long a moment, savoring the odor of my pussy. Then he tucked the panties in a pocket of his jacket.

I pretended to ignore him, watching the slow march of meaningless numbers across the PowerPoint screen, but there was a lump in my stomach, and my pussy was screaming for cock. This was the most exciting thing I had done in years. My cell phone buzzed. Holding it in my lap I saw it was a message from Liam.

"I want to fuck," it said. Short, blunt and direct. Just what I had hoped for!

"When and where?" I responded.

"Now. On the table," he texted back. I stifled a laugh.

"Might be a bit much. How about next break in the stairwell?"

"Okay."

Then I put my phone on the table, not wanting to attract any attention. Liam did the same.

For the next hour we both sat in silence, apparently listening to the drone of the meeting. In reality, all I could think about was how nasty it was going to be to fuck this tweedy Englishman in the stairwell.

Just as we expected, an hour later, the chairman called a 20-minute recess. Just before he did so, Liam sent me a quick text: "Meet me in the stairwell in 5 minutes."

I sat at the table pushing my papers about and staring at my cell phone for five minutes while everyone else rose and trooped out of the room. Once they were all gone I looked at my watch and then rose and ambled out of the room. The 20^th floor lobby was virtually empty by now, and I continued my stroll to the end of the room where the door to the stairwell stood almost invisible to anyone not looking for it. I looked back over my shoulder to check the still-empty lobby, and then I stepped quickly through the door. Liam was waiting for me.

I threw my arms around him and we kissed. He was a great kisser, his lips moist and soft and his tongue probing. He had his hands on my ass and was pulling me up against him. I could feel his erect cock beneath his suit pants.

Liam pulled back and asked, "Are we really going to do this? We haven't much time."

"Yes! I haven't thought of anything else for the last hour!" As I spoke I released his belt and pulled down his zipper. Once I had my hands on his cock, I knew we weren't going to chicken out. I quickly released his trousers and let them fall to his feet along with his underwear.

Liam was mauling my tits through my blouse. I tugged at the zipper on the back of my skirt. It fell landing in a pool at my feet, leaving me naked from the waist down. I dropped to my knees turning as I did so, so my ass was facing Liam. Liam dropped to his knees behind me and grabbed my ass on each side.

"Fuck me. Now!" I hadn't really seen his cock but it felt like a big one when I was reaching into his pants. Now I could feel him pushing its head against the entrance to my cunt. God he must be big, I thought. Then he slipped in and, oh fuck, he was big. I was so fucking full.

"Let's hurry," he said, as he began stroking his dick in and out of me. "We haven't much time and we don't want to be caught."

This was so nasty I was thinking—fucking with a guy I barely knew in an office building stairwell during a break in a meeting while all the others were down on the street grabbing a smoke, or returning phone calls, or calling their spouses to say they would be home for dinner on time, or some other mundane thing you do every day when a meeting breaks. But not Liam and I. We were in the stairwell fucking.

The floor hurt my knees and I suppose it hurt Liam's knees too, but I didn't even think about it until later. Now I was focused on only two things—how fucking good it felt to have Liam's big hard cock filling my cunt and fucking me, and how we had to hurry before we got caught or the meeting restarted and we had to walk in late.

"Did you cum?" I asked.

Sandy laughed. "Oh god yes!"

It was like having a bomb go off inside me. I heard Liam groan and felt his prick go rigid in my cunt as he began to squirt hot streams of his cum into me, and then I was gone. I fell into a climax, no an abyss, that consumed my whole body for I don't know how long. The next thing I was aware of was Liam pulling that delicious cock out of my cunt and the rustle of him pulling his pants up.

I rose up on my knees and looked over my shoulder at him. He was dressed and reaching for the door. "Wait! My panties. I need them back. Fuck! You flooded me!"

"Here," he said reaching in his pocket and tossing my panties to me. Then he added his handkerchief. After that he peaked out the door and then quickly slid out, leaving me still on my knees and half naked with a dripping pussy. But oh what a fuck that was! Unbelievable.

I cleaned up as best I could and got dressed. Then I peeked out into the lobby. It was empty. Everyone had gone back to the meeting. I wasn't going to hurry. If anyone asked, it had just been a long call from our Berlin office about another project.

I went to the ladies room where I did a more thorough job of cleaning up, fixed my make-up and let my pulse return to normal. Then I walked quietly into the ongoing meeting as though I was just another marginally necessary participant who had over-stayed her break.

When I sat down I reached over and dropped my cum soaked panties in Liam's lap. He silently tucked them in his jacket pocket. I kept his monogramed handkerchief. We each had our trophy.

A few minutes later my phone buzzed with a message from Liam: "That was fantastic. Dinner tonight?"

"Okay. What time?"

"Not until eight. Fiona can't get into the City until then."

"Fiona?"

"My wife. She wants to meet you."

"You told her?" I felt a moment of panic."

"Yes we always tell each other."

"So eight o'clock at Le Gavroche. It's in Mayfair."

"I know it. It's a date." I didn't feel near as confident as I sounded, but I was intrigued by him and his wife. What were they about? And besides I knew Le Gavroche. It's a great restaurant.

"Did you think about me while all this was going on?"

"A little, while I was sitting at the table as the conference room emptied. But not after I left the room. Did you think about me when you were fucking Angel?"

"Not after she started sucking my cock."

"There's nothing else once you start is there?" she said.

"No it's just about the fucking." I paused for a moment. "Except when I'm fucking you. Then it's also about being with you. But the others? No, it's just about the fucking."

"Yes, I know. It's the same with me."

We sat in silence, drinking the bottle of red wine we had opened to go with the lasagna.

"Are you going to tell me more?" I asked. "I still need to know how you lost your underwear."

Sandy smiled at me. "No," she said. "Now I want to make love with you one more time, and then I need to sleep. The jet lag is catching up with me."

So we did.

More of Sandy's adventures in London to come in Chapter 12.