The Chair

The chair, u-shaped, burnt orange, and tweed textured. The chair, complete with a matching stool, placed in the furthest corner of the hotel room. The chair filled with you still dressed in your dinner attire. Gray slacks bunched around the bend of your hips as you sit in the chair with your feet on the foot stool revealing all of your black dress socks. A white collared shirt with a slack tie and the top three buttons undone by my hands. The end of an evening, a night cap, and a wrap up of our conversations from dinner. You are certainly not alone in the chair as I sit facing you straddled in your lap. A soiree of conversation and playful kissing, our bodies in full attentiveness of each other. Your hands have found their way under my little black dress, caressing the outside of my thighs and giving purposeful grips to my ass. I can't help but wonder what the evening would have entailed had I choose to stay that night.

In that very chair the conversation ceased and the movements engaged. The slow movements of your hands pulling me closer and releasing, encouraging my straddled position to grind across the bulge of your pants. I feel him and I feel the excitement and pulse of her too. I can't help but to focus on where your hands are as I close my eyes and bring your head to my chest. One hand massaging the nape of your neck the other on your back keeping you close to me. One of your hands now on the small of my lower back on top of my dress and the other hand still guiding my movements on top of you. Exhaling into a deep trance of this foreplay, taking in every finger tip graze, strength of your palms and forearms, knowing that the pivotal moment is coming.

The grinding action has caused my thong to wedge itself into my swollen lips. No doubt absorbing the wetness that my body has created. I take pause from our heated moment to sit back on the stool between your legs and not so gracefully slip my finger under my dress to free the thong. Both of us chuckling in amusement at the slightly awkward moment. Your hands massaging my calves down to my achilles tendon. I smile knowing exactly where your wondering hands are headed. I lift my right leg to place the pad of my foot on your chest. The arch is completely vulnerable to your fingertips and touch. Both of your hands reach out to my knee caressing down to my foot that you pick up and rubbing both thumbs into the arch while staring with great intention. You love watching the wrinkles form as you press deeper and harder. Each wrinkle dissolving under your thumbs in a wave like motion. My left leg has dropped to the side as my foot rests openly on your right thigh.

I rub my hand over my thong surprised by how wet it has become while your nose finds itself succumbing to the natural odor between my toes. Your eyes close as you inhale deep and steady. With your hands firmly within your grasp you're exhilarated by the spread of my toes that get you just a little bit deeper. The moment you breathe out your right hand moves to my rested foot that's on your leg, giving it a greater squeeze of satisfaction, and the left now pressed into the entire length of your face. I can't see your face any more but I smile knowing that you are in complete bliss. I watch you enjoy yourself with my soft and smooth feet. Enjoying each toe, lining each wrinkle with your tongue, forcing them to flex and point. Biting the pads that make me pull back but your handle on them doesn't allow for much retraction. Watching you relish in your experience makes my heart race and the rest of me slightly envious.

The demand to be within your arms again pulls me back into your lap. Kissing you feverishly as my hips move with more conviction in your lap. I feel your hands reach to unzip my dress, which I assist pulling over my head to reveal my braless breast, quite pronounced in the dimly lit room, my nipples excitably erect. I sit back slightly to receive more pecks of kisses down my neck and chest, your tongue eventually swirling around my left nipple. Your hands holding the small of my back thumbs rubbing and gripping my sides. I feel your hands tighten their grip one more time around my waist in what would be a cue for my body to lift off of your lap. We continue to the bed and as I lay back on my elbows and you find your way to my feet once more. I am distracted as I stare at the u-shaped, burnt orange, tweed textured chair, thinking about how we mustn't be the only ones to share a moment in it. I closed my eyes and guide myself back on the bed, still thinking about the chair, while the rest of my senses enjoy the worship you are giving to my body.