The Choker

"Have you arrived at your hotel yet?"

"Yep, just checking in."

"Where's tonight's fancy dinner?"

"Nothing planned. Meetings don't start until tomorrow. Taking it easy tonight."

"You're kidding! In Paris, and no date. That's tragic."

"I know. I could really use a gin and tonic and your company."

When Andy travels, that's my opportunity to text him and wind him up from a distance.

He's gone to do a tour of European clients. I am always jealous of his job as he gets to do the most exciting things and travel to Europe, the Caribbean, New York. Me? I get to travel to North Dakota. Maybe Texas. Gus' Barbecue Palace has nothing on La Compagnie des Vins Surnaturels. Andy's probably sick of hearing me compare his flashy work travel to my rustic adventures. We both often wish I could arrange to be there and we could have a whole different, amazing city to be in. Together. But the reality of our jobs means this is highly unlikely.

I've recently been promoted. Something I've worked hard for and has been a long time coming. While, for the most part, my travel requirements are still not quite as exotic as Andy's, there's definitely been an upgrade in that department. It's taken quite some doing, but I have managed a conference in Paris. I haven't told Andy.

"Well. I am pretty sure "gin and tonic" is a euphemism for something equally as delicious and slightly less alcoholic. I'm also pretty sure we could arrange that. Look over to the left of the red door."

I can't stop myself from laughing. I see Andy check his phone as he is answering the desk clerk. He stops speaking mid-sentence, peering down at the phone as if he's confused. Then slowly, he looks up and, starting in the totally wrong direction, turns on his heel, surveying the perimeter of the room, doing almost a full revolution, until his eyes lock on me. He still hasn't quite registered what's happened yet. He smiles, completely caught off guard, then he notices the cherry red stiletto boots I'm wearing and the tight black dress. His smile changes, and I know he's rewriting his evening plans significantly. Suddenly, the desk clerk no longer exists, as he walks to where I am standing, mouth open.

"Surprise." I whisper. "Are you looking for a date?"

I slip a room key in his pocket, and, wordlessly, walk to the elevator.

He must have finished his check-in in record time because, all of a sudden, he's beside me, waiting for the lift. The door opens, and we get in. I know he is dying to ask what the fuck I'm doing here, but he's waiting for the door to close. Just as it starts to close, he grabs me by the hand and pulls me into him for a kiss, wrapping his arm around my waist and pressing his body as close as possible to mine. I love nothing more than the feel of his hot tongue on mine, and I absolutely don't want to come up for air, but, eventually, gasping, my heart beating a million times a minute, I do.

"What. The. Fuck?" He says, eyes wide, disbelieving smile on his face.

"Well, I had a choice of locations for this conference, and it just happened that the Paris conference was this week. Pretty serendipitous, yeah?" I say, my right hand on his chest, while my left curls around the back of his neck, bringing his lips close enough to mine to grab one more quick, but hot, kiss before the doors open. We are still on the ground floor. Neither of us had pushed the button.

We separate a bit, as others get on the elevator. I ask the gentleman nearest the door to please push 11 for me. He does, and turns to ask Andy what floor he needs.

"I'm with the lady." Says Andy.

The old guy smiles, raises his eyebrows, "I am sorry to hear that ,Sir.", he says, looking at Andy's expensive briefcase. "It looks like you will not be getting much sleep tonight, and you must have a business meeting tomorrow!"

Andy and I both laugh.

"The lady's worth it." he says.

"That, I do not doubt, Sir."

The elevator doors open at 11, and we exit to the hallway.

I walk down the hall, locate room 1124, and pass my swipe card over the magnetic plate.

As the little light turns green, Andy grabs my ass hard in one hand and pushes the door open swiftly with the other.

We tumble into the room, laughing.

He grabs my face between his hands, kisses me hard, and then sinks down to sit on the bed. Clearly, he still can't believe it. Neither can I, frankly. I am a horrible secret keeper, and am almost bursting with pride as to how well I kept this secret, and delighted at the effect it has had on him. He's not a man of many words, but I have never seen him at this much of a loss to express himself.

I drop my bag on the floor, and sit next to him, my hip pressed tightly next to his, my hand on the back of his neck. He closes his eyes as I run my fingers through his hair, nails grazing the nape of his neck. His lips are gorgeous, soft, wet and I kiss them as gently as possible, barely touching them with mine. His eyes are still closed. My left hand finds the top button on his shirt. Opens it slowly. Then the next. I slip my hand inside his shirt. His skin is warm, soft, and I can feel his heart racing. He grabs me and pulls me on top of him as he lies back on the bed, using his free hand to hike up my skirt to the tops of my thighs. I straddle him, revealing the lacy black tops of my stockings, and the hot red garter holding them up. He playfully stretches out the lacy top, away from my leg, and lets it snap, gently, but sharply, back against my leg, then runs his hand, slowly up to my ass, and gives me a playful spank, with just a little sting in it. I bite his lip and let out a barely audible moan to let him know how good that feels. He spanks me again. A little harder this time, and I dig my fingernails into the back of his neck, breathing hard and deep. Moaning more loudly his time.

I lean over him, letting my long hair brush his face, my mouth on his. I can feel my breasts pressed against his chest. My body, moving over his in a slow, seductive rhythm, sliding, ever so slightIy, along his.

I slide to his right side so that my hand has easy access to the remaining buttons on his shirt. I open them, one, by, one, painfully slowly, as I kiss his neck, and then his chest. When I've brushed his shirt away from him, exposing his chest and belly, I run my fingers over his body.

"So, are you still planning on a boring evening alone in your hotel room in Paris." Tracing a line with my finger from his nipple down to his belly button.

"Well, I can't possibly turn down the prospect of a date with you. Can I? Do I even dare ask what you have planned?"

I smile, not answering, as I let my fingertips gently brush down his chest, his belly, and slide under his belt, feeling the top of his swollen, hard cock, begging to be let out and teased. Kissed. Licked. Sucked.

I use my fingertip to trace the very tip, wet already with drops of cum that tell me how very badly he wants to fuck. I've been waiting for a chance to torture him, so I withdraw my fingers slowly, raising them to my mouth to lick those drops of cum off and say, "dinner, 7:00 pm. Meet me downstairs."

He doesn't move. Then grabs my hand, and pulls it back to his cock. "That gives us plenty of time to start the evening right."

It gently push him away, and stand.

"Oh, the evening will start, and end, right, don't worry. Now, off you go. I have a few things to do. See you downstairs." He pretends to be disappointed, but it can tell by the glimmer in his eye, that he's willing to wait and see.

As soon as he's gone, I lay out my bag, peel off my clothes and hop into the steaming shower. I wash my body with the deliciously scented soap I brought, savouring the silky smoothness of my own skin, closing my eyes and imagining that the hot water on my skin is him.

I dry off and carefully dress. I brought my favourite Agent Provocateur panties and bra - cherry red, and the panties are the ouvert style - an artfully placed slit in the crotch for easy access. I imagine him, seated beside me at the restaurant, hand under the table, one long finger sliding into me through that slit. I can imagine how wet, and hot that will be. Who am I kidding? My pussy is already throbbing, hot, and wet.

I pull my stockings on, and attach them to the garter. I slide the black silk shirt over my head. It's just a tiny bit see through, so Andy will be able to tell my bra is "fuck me red". And that it doesn't really cover my nipples. They are hard, and the silk of my shirt rubbing over them, makes them harder, and my pussy wetter.

I slide on the black skirt, it is short, but not tight, with enough swing in it that it'll be easy for him to push it up my hips and fuck me pretty much anywhere.

I finish with my hair, and makeup, and the perfume that winds both of us up. I'm reminded of how much I love the smell of him, and can't wait to breathe him in deeply, like a drink of cold water on a hot, sweaty day. The last thing I do before I make my way downstairs to meet him, is put on the beautiful gold choker I bought. What's hidden underneath my shirt is the long, black silk cord attached to the back, that runs down between my shoulder blades.

We enter Flute d'Etoile just on 7:30, and it's not quite busy yet. The red velvet banquettes are a little naughty looking, and the whole place has a bit of a sex parlour feel to it, which is why I chose it. Oh, it also has an excellent champagne list. As we are led to our table by the maître'd , Andy gently places his hand at the small of my back as I walk in front of him. He is a consummate gentlemen. He always places his hand gently in the small of my back when we cross the street, he opens doors, and is unfailingly polite and kind. I love that he can be so smart, and funny and gallant (for lack of a better, less terribly cheesy, word) and yet still be so hot, and dirty and fun to wind up, tease, kiss and fuck.

Our table is in an intimate little alcove upstairs, and we can hear the live jazz band playing. We order several small sharing plates and a bottle of Laurent Perrier Rose. His eyes are sparkling with excitement, and I'm pretty sure mine are too. We talk for what seems like hours, heads close together, his hand, gently on my knee, just enjoying each other's company, and getting slightly, giddlily drunk. I get to see him so rarely these days, and I love talking to him so much. Everything else aside, he's a good friend, colleague and mentor. He's my sounding board for all sorts of things, and ultimately, it's the way his brain works that I find most appealing about him. Leaving aside the fact that the his motherfucking hot in so many other ways too: the way he smiles, his gorgeous brown eyes, his laugh, the way he laughs when he realizes I have just caught him bullshitting me. And his fingers. I would love to suck I them right now, at the table.

"That's an interesting necklace." He says, one eyebrow raised, and I know it's time to switch gears.

"Yes, it's a very unusual piece," I say, taking his hand, and leaning as far forward as possible to kiss him, I place his hand on the back of my neck, his fingers on the spot where the silk cord attaches to the choker. I can feel his fingers searching, trying to figure out what it means. They trace down the cord, as far as they will go, which is not actually terribly far, but he's a clever man, and the increased intensity of his kiss tells me he knows what it's for. He pulls away from the kiss long enough to brush his lips against my ear and says, "let's go."

We've long since paid our bill and it's getting pretty late, so I stand, and he ushers me out in front of him, allowing his hand to slide from my waist to my ass as we cross the threshold into the street. I'm hit by a few drops, and although the day started warm, it's now raining gently and there's a slight wind. Good thing we borrowed the hotel umbrella at the urging of the concierge.

Andy opens the umbrella and we walk down the street together. As we pass a narrow cobblestone alley, I yank on his arm, and pull him round the corner and in a few feet. I press my back up against the wall and allow him to pin me there with his hot fucking body. It's impossible to keep the umbrella up, so he drops it and grabs me hard with both hands, shoving me roughly into the stone wall. Kissing me, and pressing his body hard against mine. There are people walking down the street only a few feet away, but it's dark and frankly, I don't care. I can feel the rain on me, and although it is not heavy, it is wet enough to make my clothes stick to my body. Andy cups my breasts and sucks my nipples, hard, right through my thin silk shirt. Using one hand, I undo the top several buttons on my blouse allowing him to push the wet fabric aside, exposing my bare skin and painfully hard nipples to the rain, pinching them hard between his fingers.

I use my hand to pull his mouth back to mine. Hot, and wet, my tongue finds his as I run my nails down his chest. I don't care if I leave a mark. I head for his jeans, and undo his belt buckle while he runs his right hand up my thigh, fingers pausing slightly at the top on my stocking and then moving onward to my panties. His left hand reaches up under my shirt, and around to the back, where he feels for that black silk cord, and gently pulls on it, until I tilt my head back and expose my neck to his lips, and teeth, biting gently.

I run my hand, up and down, the length of his cock. It's hard, and more than ready to fuck me. He's sliding his hand down into my panties from the top, so I use my free hand to guide him to that hidden slit in the fabric. His fingers find it, and it can feel him suck in his breath as he realizes what is going on. He slides his finger into my wet, hot pussy, and with his palm, caresses the silky, soft, bare skins that I just had waxed. I am about to come just from his touch, so I squirm away with my hips, as I use my fingers to push his pants and underwear down just enough to access his cock and his balls. I want to drop to my knees in the alley and take his balls and cock in my mouth, but even more than that I want him to fuck me right now, in the alley.

I use a free hand to hike up my skirt and I wrap one stockinged leg around his hip, using my calf to press on his ass, drawing him to me and using my hand to guide his cock inside me. I gasp as it slides in. So does he. My boots are high enough that this is fairly easy, but there's no fast, hard fucking standing up against this wall, so he slides his cock in and out, gently, slowly. The movement so small, but so delicious and intense. I can feel every millimetre of his cock in my pussy and I never want it to stop. I know there's activity only feet away, people on their way to dinner, to a show. Cars revving and honking in the street. But I can't hear or see anything beyond Andy, and the way he is moving his body with mine. I can't smell the baking in the patisserie whose back wall we are fucking up against. All I can smell is Andy: his cologne, his skin, damp with rain and sweat.

His hand is on my hip, holding on for dear life, the other is twisted in the black cord attached to my neck, as he fucks me in the most fluid, slow and agonizing way. I grab his ass with one hand, trying to drive him as deep as possible, and pinch my nipple hard with the other, my head back, my mouth open, rain falling on my face. His face is buried in my neck, and he's in me so deep, that I can't help but come. I tell him I'm coming, and I can feel his body tense as he forces his cock deeper and bites my neck. I'm still fucking coming when I feel his hot cum shoot into me. It seems to go on forever.

It feels a little like he might fall over, and truthfully I don't feel too steady either. I draw him closer and then, kiss him hard on the mouth, and then we separate, my skirt falling back down over my legs,I button up my shirt, both of us leaning back against the wall, breathing heavy, and just recovering.

I kiss him once more. "Shall we head back to the hotel?"

He nods and smiles, and does up his pants. He picks up the umbrella, puts his hand on my lower back, and we walk the three blocks back to the hotel.