The Hippolyta Project

"The most important parts are back in my room."

That hung there for more than a few seconds. I took a long pull from my beer.

"Check, please," I said loudly, raising my hand. It somehow materialized a few seconds later.

***

I've never been so self-consciously uncool as during the walk back to our hotel. My feet and our conversation stumbled along. Each step felt false.

Suddenly she was swiping her keycard. The lock clicked. She swung her door open.

We were inside her room. I seemed to be holding her hand. She turned in slow motion, which was a neat trick. I started to form some inane comment. She quickly put her finger to my lips.

She moved her hand to the back of my head and pulled me towards her.

We kissed.

She started at it hungrily, pressing her lips hard against mine, her tongue tangling with mine. I wrapped my right arm around her waist and pulled her towards me, hard. With my left hand I cradled her firm ass. She gasped, and pulled away from our kiss slightly. Those stormy blue grey eyes looked up at me. She looked surprised, then somehow annoyed.

Something I didn't understand was happening.

Or did I? She was my direct report. I categorically should not be here, doing this. I would end my employment if found out.

On the other hand, this job wasn't that good.

And I'm not bright, but I can pick up the bright fucking flashing lights that say, "fuck me." Those have been on strobe since the Indian joint.

So was she having second thoughts? Should I be? Did I have my first thought yet?

"Fiona, we ..." I started.

" ... aren't here to talk," she finished.

Right. The bright flashing lights continued to dazzle.

"Are you going to show me that project?" I asked.

"I am, honey," she said, in that husky voice. Eyelashes batted.

She reached up and began to kiss me hungrily again. I was still holding her, turns out.

All doubt fled. I held her close, and kissed her back. The worries of tomorrow were obscured by the sensual joy of now.

The kiss was changing. Hunger is mindless need, insistent and aggressive. We started with that. But hunger began to give way to passion. Passion is want, much different than need. Passion is appreciation and affection, not insistence or aggression.

I didn't want to fuck. I wanted to fuck her, any way she wanted.

Our passionate kissing was perfect. Her soft lips caressed mine. She was playful with her tongue and teeth. We were smiling. Every once and a while we caught a few breaths, and our eyes remained locked. She managed both demure and wry. I caressed her too, only with my hands.

She balled her fists in my jacket lapels. She did something vaguely kung-fu with her weight, and she spun me three-quarters round. The back of my knees hit the edge of the bed, and I went down on my back. Even as I was falling she was vaulting into the air, never letting go of my jacket. She came down straddling me, mounting me. I looked down at her short skirt, riding up her legs.

Her pussy was bare. She hadn't had underwear on this whole time, not even at the bar. It was also completely without hair.

I looked up at her quickly, surprised, and a thrill shot through my body. I shivered. She grinned.

She shrugged out of her leather jacket. I clumsily tried to remove my own. Pure will overcame the awkward angle.

She lunged forward and again we kissed passionately. She lay on top of my tall frame, her hot sex pressed against me. I could feel how wet she was through two layers of shirt. She began to slowly unbutton my dress shirt as we kissed. The buttons confounded her nimble fingers; she made an annoyed sound and ripped the shirt open. The confounding buttons flew. She was surprisingly strong.

I grasped her arms, intending to get her to the bed. She tried to escape but my big strong hands held her. She stopped and glared at me, eyes flashing, her upper lip curling into a feral expression, part smile and part snarl.

Quick as a viper she reached out and slapped my face, hard. In the shock of it, my grip on her involuntarily loosened. She knocked my arms away with quick blows to the inside of my elbows. It fucking hurt. Suddenly she was planting her hands on my chest and spinning around. Her bare, soaking pussy came down on my face. I gasped; the sharp inhalation brought her aroma deep into me. Pain was forgotten. My tongue lashed out, almost on its own, and buried itself in her.

My blood surged, and I thought my heart was going to burst in my chest. I'd never been more intoxicated on lust. My world went black and I thought for a second that I was passing out. Her skirt had just settled over my head.

I grabbed her hips and steadied her over me. I lapped at her frantically, dipping in and out of her. I found her clitoris and worked that pretty hard. She was wriggling and moaning. Suddenly that light flooded back in; she had been removing her shirt, and pulled her skirt off over her head too.

She leaned forward and grabbed for my belt. Quickly that was undone and her hand was in working on my pants. Her hands were inside my underwear and my straining cock was out. She had small hands but I know it had never been bigger. My boiling blood had it painfully engorged.

She looked over her shoulder at me, leaning slightly to her left. Again her eyes flashed. She smiled wickedly and then bent and jammed my cock in her mouth. She had wanted me to see it disappear into her. I almost came right there.

Instead I redoubled my efforts on her. With her laid out on me, slurping on my cock and pumping it with both her little fists, her tiny frame had pulled her pussy away from me. I frantically reached up behind me searching for a pillow. I found one, the first time a round throw pillow was actually useful. With my head propped up, I was able to lap at her and use both my hands to caress, rub, spread and penetrate her.

I don't know how long this went on for. I lost myself in trying to please her. Suddenly my wet shaft was out of her mouth, and she was lifting herself off of me. I opened my eyes - turns out they had been shut - and propped myself up on my elbows. She was off the bed, standing at the foot of it, looking at me. Appraising me. She bent down and started pulling off my shoes, still on my feet.

"Take off your shirt," she said.

She moved from my shoes to my pants and underwear, pulling them off me as I wriggled out of my clothes. Then she stood up between my naked legs and looked at me. She smiled, a little more softly than her feral grin

I looked at her, finally. She only had a lacy bra on, covering her small perky breasts. She had tattoos all over her, winding from her wrists, up her arm and to her neck on the right side. Much of it was flowers, as if from a wild, overgrown meadow. On her left ribs was a pixie that had a positively mischievous look. The art was superb, and she made a stunning canvas.

I had considered her slight. I was wrong. She was slender in the way a cheetah or leopard is, thin, but graceful and muscular.

My gaze flitted up to her eyes; she was watching me admire her. Slowly she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. She peeled it away. Her breasts were magnificent.

They weren't big, somewhere between A and B cup. But they were ever so round, and sloped on her lithe frame perfectly. She had small, pert little pink nipples.

I looked back up at her.

"You are amazingly beautiful," I said.

"You haven't seen anything yet."

With that, she started to slowly crawl onto the bed, eyes never leaving mine. My knees were still at the bedside, feet on the ground. I knocked away the pillow and shuffled backward. It was only to get myself onto the bed, but it seemed like I was trying to get away from a stalking predator, closing for the kill. A little smile played over her face. When my head bumped the bars of the headboard, I sank down on the bed.

She kept coming. She stalked up and kissed me passionately. She began rubbing her body up and down mine, her sharp little nipples poking into my hairy chest, her sopping wet pussy brushing the tip of my rock hard cock and then retreating away. I brought my hands up to caress her back and ass. I wanted to be in her so badly, but this was exquisite.

Eventually she pulled away from our kiss, biting my bottom lip as she went. She straddled my hips, and reached down to grasp my dick. She rubbed its head up and down her slit. She closed her eyes and used my tip to rub her clit. She sat down, pinning my cock to me and sliding her sopping pussy along its length, tilting forward to get the most friction on her engorged little button.

Finally she raised up, aimed my cock into her and slowly sat down, taking all of me into her. She closed her eyes and bit her lip as she slid down my length. My leg muscles spasmed and a jolt rippled through me, my tip bumping into her cervix. She gasped a little, but kept me all the way in her. She leaned forward, kissed me passionately, and then moved her full red lips to my right ear and nibbled. She reached down, grasped my hands, which were cupping her ass, and brought them up to the bars of the headboard.

"Better hold on," she whispered.

She sat up, eyes on mine. I did as I was told.

Slowly, she began grinding on my cock. She was stirring her insides with me like a straw, scraping my tip along the velvety walls. Then she began sliding me in and out of her, gradually picking up the pace. Her gaze never left mine. She rode me.

When she leaned back and adjusted her angle, she broke our gaze. She looked up the ceiling and started to moan rhythmically. I could tell this was just the way she liked it.

Somehow, I didn't cum right away while watching this vixen take her pleasure. She was using me to fuck just the way she wanted to fuck. It was the sexiest thing.

Soon, she was beginning to give a low, constant wail. I could feel her pussy begin to spasm, but she didn't slow her pace at all, she just continued to ride me, hands behind her propping her up. She came and came.

Finally, she leaned forward again, and again started to gyrate her hips. She steadied herself on my chest and ground on me in circles. She was absolutely glowing, radiating with lust and pleasure.

She reached up suddenly and pinched my nipples. With a tremor I groaned, and came, filling her. Still, she moved on me, drawing out every last drop. When I could cum no more, I let go of the bed frame and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her down to me so I could kiss her. She didn't fight it, and squeezed her lithe little body to mine, both of us covered with sweat, both of our chests heaving.

"Oh god, that was unbelievable!" I rasped, throat dry from gasping.

"Believe it," she said. "You were perfect."

We kissed a little more, my hands softly caressing her. I stared at her with what was probably a very dumb look on my face while I tried to recall everything that just happened. She made a little face.

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to take in the details. I really don't ever want to forget this," I said.

"Oh don't worry, the recording started as soon as we came into the room," she said, kissing me again.

"Oh good ... wait, what?"

"The video recorded while it was streaming for the Hippolyta Project," she said, still snuggled up to my chest, now drawing rings in my chest hair with her finger. "Anyone who wasn't watching it live will be able to catch it later, including you."

Oh, shit.