the business trip, part 3


The relative quiet of the night hits me like another attack on my senses as I walk beside you, lengthening my stride to keep up with yours. You’re still clutching my hand.

You walk through the parking lot like a man with a purpose. I smile secretly. If I’m on fire, it seems only fair that you should have to suffer, as well.

You stop in front of a black car. You turn to lean against it and pull my hand, using my forward motion to carry me right into you.

Your mouth slams on mine as though eternity would not be long enough to get a taste. I whimper in the back of my throat and bring my hands up to your chest, your arms.

God, you taste good.

Your tongue slides against mine, frustrated, aroused. Your hand slips up over my shoulder blades to tangle in my hair, forcing my lips closer. Slippery duel. I can’t help the small sounds coming from my throat.

I settle my hips against yours as the kiss goes on and on. Soft throb meets hard thrust. I move slowly against you, the kiss feeding the movement of my hips until it takes my breath away.

I can feel every pounding beat of my heart from nipples to knees.

You break the kiss. My lips are soft, swollen, a little red. I see desire and regret and anticipation in your gaze before you turn to unlock the door for me. It makes me want you even more.

You settle in beside me and start the ignition. Your right hand settles on my bare thigh. Stroking, maddening circles against the inside of my knee. You know exactly where I will feel those circles. God. It’s like a phantom finger circling my clit.

You should know better than to play this game when you’re driving.

I respond in kind. My hand settles on your thigh, half way up. I feel your muscles tense beneath my hand.

“Vikki,” you growl in warning. “I’m driving.”

I laugh delightedly and move my hand a bit higher. “Oh, but you’re a big boy. Surely you can take this.”

I watch the war in you. You’re so hard I can see it from here, and I know how badly you want my touch. But you need to concentrate. The roads are still filled with Friday night drivers.

My fingers draw small circles on your leg, your upper thigh, moving so maddeningly, screamingly close to your aching cock that you make a small sound. Anticipation.

I know you want even more of this. I know your secret dreams, imagining me moving over you with my mouth, licking and sucking you as you drive. Testing your strength and control.

My hand closes over your cock as you draw in your breath with a hiss.

You’re swollen. So hard I can’t believe there’s living flesh beneath my hand.

I rub my thumb over your ridge, over and over. You jerk against my hand, and I squeeze you approvingly, moving the cloth over you with strokes that are firm but not firm enough, fast but not fast enough, and I can hear your breathing change.

I clench my thighs together as my hand works on you, as I feel and see your body respond to mine. God. This is turning me on. So much. So fast.

At this rate we’ll never make it to the hotel room.

The tires squeal a bit as you turn the wheel sharply. I look up and am a bit surprised that we’re already here. I hadn’t even noticed. Too busy worshipping your lovely steel cock.

You look at me and smile. It’s a tormented smile. It’s a smile that says I want to take you right here but I want to wait but dammit what you’re doing with your hand is…

I take pity on you, giving you one last squeeze, enough to make you gasp, before letting you go. I lean up and brush my lips against yours, once, twice, soft as air.

“Let’s get upstairs.” I breathe against your mouth.

You hold my hand as we walk through the parking lot. Your thumb brushes into my palm as we cross the lobby. I can feel the movement in my nipples.

Thank God the elevator comes quickly. Thank God it’s empty.

You grin a little when you see the mirrored elevator walls. It makes me clench.

You lean against the back wall and pull me between your legs, facing outward. Your fingers trace my neck slowly, making me tremble, moving my hair away from my neck.

Kissing my neck again. I moan softly and close my eyes, pushing back against you.

“Open.” you growl. “I want your eyes open. Watch.”

Your fingers drag a trail of heat from my shoulders to my waist and then slowly back up until they’re, oh, God, rubbing my nipples, soft wild circles, your mouth a brand against my neck.

Even worse, I have to watch you do it. I’m forced to watch as you thrust against me from behind. As my thighs clench and shudder a little, trembling.

Your nails, lightly scratching, making me jump. Shudder. Moan.

I reach back and grab your hips, rotating against your cock, needing to soothe the ache. It doesn’t help. The flames lick higher.

I have never been this turned on in my entire life.

The bell rings, and the elevator doors open.

It’s time to finally do all the things I’ve been dreaming of. All the things I’ve been fantasizing about. My hands are shaking.

We walk down the hall to my hotel room.

About the author

Vikki McKay
By Vikki McKay

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