erotica

Erotica | Lesbian | Cheating | Married | Conference Sex | Oral Sex | Tribbing | Fingering | Multiple Orgasms | Hotel Suite | Risky Sex

I Hooked Up With Another Woman at the Industry Conference After Party

She pushed me against the wall, sucked my tits, ate my married pussy, and tribbed me until we both came screaming in her hotel suite.

The annual industry conference after party was a whirl of loud bass, clinking glasses and the pungent aroma of high-end whiskey.

I walked through the crowd in a tight emerald dress that hugged my hips and lifted my tits up high, the slit up my thigh showing just enough skin to get some looks.

I was supposed to be networking, shaking hands and talking deliverables as a senior project manager.

Rather, I continued to think of ways to return to the open bar where she was standing.

Amani Magana.

The regional sales director from our largest partner company who is as sharp as a tack and doesn't have a bullshit bone in his body.

A firecracker, dark-skinned and smooth, with curves that made her black cocktail dress look like it was made for sin, and a smile that said she knew exactly how to get what she wanted, was thirty-something.

For the past two years, we've been eye-fucking each other in conference rooms.

The pressure finally broke tonight.

She looked at me again and turned her glass toward me.

I walked over, hips swaying, letting the dress ride up a little with each step.

As soon as I approached, the air between us crackled.

We chatted about the numbers, the clients who were being difficult, the usual crap, but her eyes kept going to my boobs and the way my nipples were pressing against the thin fabric.

I didn’t hide it.

I leaned in closer, letting my breath brush her ear when I laughed at one of her jokes.

“You've been watching me all night,” I whispered, barely audible above the music.

“Whenever I cross my legs on that bar stool, your eyes go right between my legs.”

Amani's lips twisted into a wicked smirk.

She took a sip of her martini, then lowered her gaze down my body again, this time openly.

“Can you blame me?

I've been thinking about what you taste like since last year's summit, that dress looks like it's one deep breath away from letting those fat tits spill out.

I felt a heat rising in my lower abdomen.

I crossed my legs tighter, feeling my bare pussy lips rub together under the dress.

No panties tonight.

I wanted the risk.

I wanted the smoothness that was developing between my legs as we acted like professionals.

We continued talking, about her latest deal closing, my team's nightmare vendor, the ridiculous keynote speaker earlier, but each sentence had an undercurrent of pure filth.

When she picked up a napkin, she touched my wrist with her fingers.

I pressed my knee against hers under the bar.

The party grew louder, bodies pressing closer around us.

My husband was somewhere across the room in another division, laughing with his usual group.

He was unaware that his wife was leaking for another woman in the middle of the event.

My clit was throbbing at the thought.

Amani finished her drink and put the glass down with a firm click.

“There's a suite upstairs, 14th floor, if you're not going to pretend and do something about all this eye-fucking, follow me in five minutes.”

She walked away without waiting for an answer, her ass swaying like a challenge in that tight dress.

I lingered at the bar for a few more minutes, my heart pounding, drinking my cocktail and talking to a random vendor about supply chain software.

My mind was already upstairs, picturing her smooth thighs spread wide.

After a while, I stood up and made my way to the elevators, my heart pounding.

The ascent was so long.

My pussy was so wet I could feel it dripping down my inner thighs.

Before I could knock, the door to her suite opened.

Amani ushered me in, the heavy door clanging shut behind us, and the true night started.

She didn't linger with soft kisses.

She pushed me against the wall, mouth crushing mine, tongue pushing hard and deep.

Her hands went straight to my tits, squeezing them through my dress, rubbing my hard nipples until I moaned into her mouth.

I grabbed her ass, pulling her closer, grinding my hips against hers.

We were both winded, the fancy conference facade removed.

“These tits have been in my hands all fucking night,” she growled against my lips.

She pulled the straps of my dress down, releasing my heavy breasts.

They jumped out, their nipples were hard and black.

Amani bent her head and sucked one into her hot mouth, swirling her tongue around the tender bud, while her fingers pinched and rolled the other.

I arched my back and moaned loud, my fingers in her hair as she nursed on me like she was starving.

As we walked, I pushed her back to the king bed, unzipping her dress as I did.

It gathered at her feet, showing her a black lace thong that barely covered her pussy.

Her tits were just right, dark nipples begging for attention.

I pushed her onto the mattress and lay on her, kissing her hard as my hand went between her legs.

She was soaked.

My fingers rubbed her pussy lips through the lace, feeling how puffy and wet she was.

“Fuck, you're dripping for me,” I grumbled, pulling the thong away.

I pushed two fingers into her slit, spreading her juices up to her swollen clit.

Amani gasped, hips bucking.

I slowly circled her clit, teasing it, and then pushed two fingers into her tight cunt.

She was hot as fire inside, holding me tight as I pumped in and out.

Yes… just like that,” she grumbled, crushing my hand.

She put her own fingers to my dress hem and pushed it up to my waist.

She grumbled again when she saw I was naked.

“No panties?

This married pussy has been open all night waiting for me, you dirty fucking slut.

I sucked her tits and then her lower body, kissing down her body.

I nestled between her parted legs, taking in the musky aroma of her arousal.

Her pussy was glistening, lips parted, clit peeking out.

I licked a long, slow stripe up her asshole to her clit, tasting her tangy juices.

Amani’s hips jerked.

I did it again, then I put my mouth on her clit and sucked softly while my fingers continued to fuck her.

“Shit—your mouth feels so good,” she panted, hands fisting the sheets.

I licked and sucked her clit harder and harder, tongue flicking it fast and slow, spelling my name on it.

I wrapped my fingers around her and rubbed that spongy area until her thighs began to shake around my head.

My chin was covered with her juices.

I devoured her like a woman possessed, slurping and moaning into her cunt, loving how she writhed and cursed.

She came the first time with a loud cry, pussy clamping down on my fingers, fresh wetness flooding my tongue.

I licked her through it, but now more gently, until she pulled me up for a messy kiss, tasting herself on my lips.

We drove over the bed.

Amani pushed me onto my back and attacked my tits again, sucking hard and rubbing my soaked pussy with her hand.

She was able to fit two fingers in easily, then three, stretching me open as she worked her thumb on my clit.

I resisted her hand, moaning, my own fingers pinching my nipples.

She went down and put her face between my legs.

Her tongue was relentless, lapping at my folds, sucking my clit, pushing inside me.

I grabbed her head, grinding my cunt against her mouth, smearing my juices all over her face.

The noises were dirty: my slurping noises, her muffled noises of approval.

We got into a dirty sixty-nine, I on top.

I lowered my dripping pussy onto her waiting tongue, while I dove back into hers.

We ate each other, grinding our hips, fucking our tongues, pumping our fingers.

The room was filled with the scent of sex and perfume.

I sucked her clit while I fingered her deep, and she shook under me.

The next step was the tribbing.

I climbed between her legs, my sodden cunt against hers.

Our pussies kissed, wet and slippery, clits rubbing together.

I rocked my hips, grinding hard, feeling her folds against mine.

The rubbing of my clit was electric.

Amani gripped my ass, pulling me tighter, our juices mixing as we humped each other faster.

“Fuck yes—rub that married pussy on me,” she gasped.

“Your clit is so nice against mine.”

We ran side by side, tits jiggling, sweat running down our backs.

I bent down and opened her lips so our clits could rub right on each other.

The tension escalated quickly.

I came hard, moaning her name, pussy gushing against hers.

She followed immediately after, back arching, crying out as her cunt spasmed and flooded us both.

We continued on, lazy fingers, more licking, another round of grinding until we were both tired and shivering.

We fell into each other, heavy breathing, fingers still caressing each other's smooth skin, until we were both collapsed.

I took a breath, adjusted my make-up in her mirror, cleaned the mess between my legs, and patted my dress down.

Amani looked at me from the bed, lips swollen, eyes satisfied.

“It's not a one-off,” she said.

“Damn right it isn’t,” I replied, blowing her a kiss.

I went back down to the after party as if nothing had happened.

My husband spotted me near the bar and asked me about the networking.

I smiled, still tasting Amani's pussy on my tongue, and told him it was productive.

Across the room Amani caught my eye again and raised her fresh drink in a silent toast.

I’m already thinking about our next “follow-up meeting.”

This conference is now a lot more interesting.