The Business Trip

I thought the boss was going to bust a gut trying to keep a straight face. Because of the recent investigations into our company's supposed overseas sweatshops–charges that were dropped–the project in Bangkok needed more than my operational expertise. He'd decided, he said, to send along someone from human resources to do the contracting and wage structure. Not anyone from human resources. He was sending Mel Zimmerman, the company's VP of Human Resources and resident labor law genius. While he told me this, the boss was having a hell of a time remaining stoic. He'd rather have been on the floor, rolling around on his expensive his fancy Persian rug–laughing his ass off.

My job requires I spend most of my time twelve time zones away from the boss's office. That's fine by me. I'm not a coat and tie type of guy, and I do enjoy travel--but only by myself. Nothing ruins a trip like having to hold a corporate hand through airports, customs and hotels. I have it down to a science and move quickly through the maze. If I'm babysitting someone else, I have to slow down to point to where to get their bags, then wait while customs marvels at all of the excess crap they packed. For that reason, I especially don't like taking a female with me, corporate officer or not.

Mel–Melissa–Zimmerman might have been statuesque had she not stopped growing at five feet. The chest she got honestly–through genes, not surgery. The rest came with hard work in the gym. Flat belly. Shapely legs. An ass that most women would die for–and most men would die happy if they were parked on it. Add the shiny blue eyes and pixie-cut black hair, she is a babe by any man's definition.

Now you might lick your chops and question why I wasn't looking forward to the trip. Late night meeting preparations drinking a little too much wine or having one to many Beefeaters gin and tonics. That might lead to a roll in the sack. With a woman who looks like that? A potential fringe benefit all men dream about. But that was the other reason my boss had the giggles. Melissa Zimmerman is gay.

***

In the current security environment, the airport experience can be described in one way: hurry up and wait. I long ago learned the value of using my bonus miles to upgrade to first class so I could wait in the lounge. I was sitting in a comfortable chair reading the local newspaper when I heard a familiar voice asking me if our fearless leader knew we were flying first class. "No, but he's not paying for it. I upgraded us with my miles."

"Really? The company manual says you're supposed to turn in the freebies."

"Never got around to it. I give them the balance when I'm in town long enough to deal with the bullshit."

Mel grinned. "So my department is bullshit, is it?"

I took a closer look. She'd come dressed for serious travel. A T-shirt that was too formal to be called that, one of those skirts that were really shorts and comfortable running shoes. Even more important, all she had was a laptop, a briefcase and a small bag. "Already check in your bag?"

"Nope. This is it. I don't like to hang in baggage claim."

I stuffed the vision of that T-shirt–wet–into the recesses of my mind and tried not to look at the way her shorts/skirt stretched around her round ass. My eyes shifted to her tanned legs, but that was a mistake. Feeling a little flush, I went back to my paper.

"Doesn't bother me."

"Huh?"

"I'm used to guys staring at the equipment. If you're worried about some sort of harassment lawsuit... don't. I like it."

"I thought that...."

"I'd rather have a woman staring at my ass? Most don't. Their turn on is the eyes or mouth or parts men never see." She laughed. "Staring is harmless. Besides, if you surprise me coming out of the shower, it's not big deal. ...You've already seen me naked."

"I've what?"

"Undressed me in your beady little male mind. You have, haven't you?"

"Well, ...uh."

"And to fill in the blanks, I have a tat of a rose on my left cheek, I shave clean and they're C-cups. ...Miss anything?"

I was speechless. It was not what I expected. The woman was a magna cum laud grad from some ivy league school, not a hooker. Further, given her sexual persuasion.... "It's more than I needed to know. Coffee? I'm having a little Baily's in mine."

"Coffee, yes. Booze, no It's too early for me." She laughed. "With as much traveling as you do, you still have to fortify yourself to get on an airplane?"

"Not fear of flight. I'm pre-adjusting time zones."

"Oh."

I got her the coffee, then sat down next to her. "How are we going to work this?"

She frowned. "You want to start talking business already? Jeez. We have the next fifteen hours to do that."

"Okay." I went back to my paper.

"I read your personnel jacket. Pretty wife. No kids."

"They have my wife's picture in my personnel file?"

"Christmas party picture. Why no kids?"

I was confused by the personal interest. "She models. A pregnant belly doesn't fit in with that. Kids come later, after she retires."

"Oh." She laughed. "I thought it might be your reputation."

"My reputation?"

"According to the women I spoke with, you're a slut."

"A what?"

"A slut. You'll screw any woman who'll drop her drawers, and you've apparently been quite persuasive in that department." She shook her head. "After seeing your wife, I thought you'd be partial to tall, leggy blonds. Not so. You apparently are into equal opportunity. Any shape, size or hair color.

I tried to sound incensed. "I beg you pardon."

"No begging or pardon required." She laughed. "Did you really screw Cindy in finance? She has to be at least 300 pounds."

"No. ...And if you have more women around the building claiming...."

"Ah. You're a saint and being maligned."

"I'm no saint, but I don't play around close to the flagpole and I definitely have standards."

"Yeah. It would be hard to find something lie you've got at home. ...She know you play around?"

"We have an agreement."

She laughed. "Yeah. The proverbial agreement. I've heard that one before. One of the fiftieth floor guys told that to his secretary and proceeds to knock her up. When she calls the wife, she finds the only agreement involved the marriage vows."

"She called the wife? Why?"

"Because I told her to." Mel grinned and it was purely evil. "If the wifey agreed to his playing around, don't you think she should no there are about to be some fruits born from that activity?"

"Jesus."

"So maybe I should call you wife and check before this goes any further?"

This was beginning to irritate me. "This? What this? If you want to call and ask my wife if she likes girls, I'll save you the trouble. She does."

"No shit!"

I was pleased I'd shocked the corporate troublemaker. "When I'm on the road, she has her special friends."

"Women?"

"And men. She has her needs. I have mine. When I get home, it makes for good pillow talk and some pretty intense sex. ...Now, back to the 'this' you mentioned that was going further. You decided to switch hit?"

She laughed. "After some of the women I talked to, I'll have to admit it crossed my mind. It's one thing being well endowed, but they say you also know how to use the equipment. ...It does make a lady curious."

"Uh huh. You just want me to take you home to my wife."

"It could be fun."

They called our flight.

We were seated in the middle of the first class section, but Mel talked them into switching our seats to the very front. I wasn't happy about it as the tray tables are a pin in the butt, but I went along with it. I even didn't question why we needed pillows and blankets when the plane hadn't even pushed out of the gate. Instead, I drank my orange juice laced with champagne while she nested, spreading a blanket across our laps.

As we were taxiing out, she leaned closer. "I have a confession. I'm scared shitless to fly."

"No problem. Nothing to worry about. This airline has an excellent safety record."

"Hold my hand?"

I slipped my hand over hers. "Sure."

She dragged my hand under the blanket.

I thought she wanted to be discrete, hiding the fact she needed her hand held.

Not so. She grabbed it in both her hands and forced it into a fist. Then she pried out my index and middle finger, extending them. "I need something to take my mind off the takeoff."

That's when I became aware of several things. First, she had hiked up her loose skirt/shorts as high as they would go. Second, she wasn't wearing underwear. Third, I discovered she'd told the truth. She did shave her pussy.

"What do you...?" I got the answer to my question before it was ever asked. I felt my fingers being jammed up her cunt. I say jammed because she used both hands to force my fingers as deep inside her as she could get them. Then she started moving them in an out.

I glanced over at her. She had her head back against the pillow, eyes closed, concentrating on the task at hand. (Pun intended.) She was breathing through her mouth and it was the first time I noticed the puffy lips. Thinking of those lips got me started and I found myself working on a raging hard on with my other hand.

When the pilots added power to takeoff, the timing was perfect. My hand was soaked from her juices. Amid the roar, she turned her head, leaned closer to my ear and quietly screamed. Then she released her my hand, through her arm around my neck and kissed me passionately.

Those were the same lips that I were mentally wrapped around my cock. Lesbian or not, I'd just helped her out, so it was her turn. I grabbed her hand, slipped it under the blanket and guided it to my dick.

She smiled. "My. My. What have we here?" She unzipped me and released my dick. "And I thought the girls were exaggerating."

Now I'll admit I'm a bit longer than average, but what most women comment on is the thickness and the large head. I'm used to compliments, but this one confused me. Hoiw did a nice lesbian girl know whether I was big, small or something else? I was going to ask, but she'd started pumping in earnest and I had more pressing matters on my mind.

Mel leaned closer to whisper in my ear. "I know you want me to suck it, but do you think she'd approve?"

"She" I saw Mel nod forward and realized there was a flight attendant sitting in a jump seat, facing us. Asians are supposed to be inscrutable, but I could see she was fixated on what was going on under the blanket. Between the audience and Mel's masterful stroking, I couldn't take it any more. With a groan, I soaked the blanket.

By the time I recovered, the pilots were climbing and the flight attendants were up moving about the cabin. "Our" flight attendant smiled at us and disappeared into the galley, returning with two hot towels she slipped to use with a smile.

I don't speak Chinese, but Mel apparently did. She and the flight attendant spoke for a full minute. Whatever they said seemed to please the young Chinese girl because when she left, she was giggling. "What was that about."

"She says she loves newlyweds. We talked about how you and I are going to Bangkok for our honeymoon."

"You did what?"

Mel grinned. "Not to worry. She apologized they don't have curtains to give us privacy, but if we ever want to use the bathroom, she'll stand guard."

I laughed. "She'll stand guard? I thought that would be my job."

Mel's hand darted under the blanket and I saw the look of disappointment. The toys had been put away and the toy box zipped. That didn't stop her from some creative stroking. "Boy is my wife going to be pissed. All of that wasted sympathy."

"Wasted sympathy?"

"She picked me up from work yesterday and you were leaving the building. I pointed you out and said you were going with me. She knows I'm an ass man and commented on your fine rear, saying I should have a fun trip. That's when I told her you weren't into guys. She was sad for me, knowing I'd be spending the whole trip dreaming about having you bet over something."

Mel squirmed a little and her other hand disappeared beneath the blanket. "Sounds interesting, as long as you don't get to creative. I don't care to have soething that large jammed up my ass."

By this time she was stroking in earnest and I was responding. I decided to help her out and reached under the blanket to unzip my pants. "We need more hot towels."

Mel grinned. "Not this time, buddy." She raised the arm between out seat. "Slide over closer to the window."

I did as I was told and watched her slide down to rest her head in my lap. When she did, she started working my dick with both hands. I was close. "Whatever you have in mind, you'd better hurry. I'm just about there." I closed my eyes and pictured those full lips sliding up and down my cock.

She raised up, looked around, then lowered her head under the blanket.

That was about all it took. Those lips surround my cock head, then started working their way downward. As my cock started slipping into her throat, I felt one of her hands cupping and gently squeezing my balls. That was that. I started erupting, filling her mouth and throat with cum. Her head started moving up and down, increasing the speed as she milked me dry.

She stayed there, sucking, until I was limp.

"Wow. Where'd you learn to do that?"

She sat up. "That? What are you talking about?" She discretely wiped her mouth, then grinned. "And is there a horse in your lineage? That had to be a least a quart."

I laughed. "Okay. No questions. I probably couldn't get a straight answer anyway." I emphasized the word "straight."

She laughed. "Maybe later, after we've had out trip to the john."

I groaned. I needed a few dozen oysters and a nap before that happened.

I sat on the toilet and watched Mel take off the T-shirt, surpised she wasn't wearing a bra. The shape of the shirt said she was, but her tits were naturally firm and erect. Even with their large size, no support was needed.

That was a fleeting thought. When I saw the small dime sized nipples, I knew I had to suck them. Immediately. I pulled her down to my ap and began tracing them with my tongue, pausing occasionally to suck them into my mouth. I was rewarded as they became erect. I began sucking on one while gently rubbing my thumb over the other.

Mel groaned and squirmed in my lap.

I whispered, "Take off your shorts. I want to suck your clit."

She did and I discovered there was a distinct advantage to being in an airplane bathroom with a small woman. There was very little wedging or gymnastic contortions involved. I leabed forward and began eating her pussy, discovering it already wet. I also found that her tits weren't the only large things attached to her small body. Her clit was already erect and it was sticking out of her pussy, waiting for me. I gently sucked it into my lips.

That didn't last long. Mel needed to be fucked and she needed to be fucked now. She jumped up and turned, giving me a full view of that magnificent ass. Narrow hips. Tight. Muscular. I would have liked to laid her out flat, but that wasn't possible.

She bent forward over the sink. Well, sort of bent. There wasn't that much room and she was more standing than bending. "Is this good enough?"

I stood, dropping my pants, and moved closer, my cock gently caressing her ass. My intent was to rub the head against her pussy and gradually work it into her cunt, giving her a chance to stretch and adjust. ...Right after I put on the rubber.

Mel had different ideas. She reached around to grab my cock in her hand, then positioned it at the mouth of her cunt. Once she had it started inside her, she suddenly shoved that magnificent ass back at me, burying my dick right up to the balls. She screamed.

I groaned.

Then she began pumping. She moved me in and out, twisting her ass this way and that. All the while she did this, she was proving why women should spend a lot of time exercising. She was squeezing down on my dick and milking it with her muscles.

That was more than I could take. With one hand, I grabbed a hip and pulled it into me. I grabbed her hair with the other hand, pulling her back toward me. Then I started to cum. And I came. I think I had four or five orgasms crammed into one massive one. The jizz was dribbling down her leg, mixing with her juices. Her thighs glistened in the weak lighting.

When she felt me thrust deeply into her, Mel screamed. Than she shuddered. She continued to shudder as her orgasms cascaded, each on stronger than the last. After five or six, she lost it, too weak to stand. She folded, slipping down to her knees.

"My God, Mel. If you're that good with a guy, you must be something else with a woman."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure."

"I'm a fraud. My roommate is a lesbian and has a true love."

"And you're not it?"

She smiled. "Nope, but everyone at the office thinks I am. ...It keeps those assholes on the top floor from hitting on me." She frowned. "I want to get to the top on the quality of my work, not because I sucked a bunch of old dicks."

"So you have a secret boyfriend?"

"Nope, but my roomie works for a company that frowns on people who are openly gay. So, she has a boyfriend to make them think she's straight." Mel grinned. "My roomie isn't interested, so someone has to keep her token boyfriend happy."

I kissed her. "Judging from your recent performance, he must be a very happy boy."

"And you're going to be very happy we're together on this trip, but when we get back to the office, that's our secret. ...Okay?"

I nodded.

When we were dressed, we let ourselves out of the bathroom and found that our secret was not a secret, at least to the passengers in first class.

They'd heard the screaming and clapped when they saw us.