The Art of The Affair
April 11, 2010
An affair is a dance. There is a specific way things are done and handled. It provides him with enough security so he will not get caught, while at the same time taking just the right amount of risk to keep things interesting. Or so I had thought.
Ralph Lauren Guy lived in D.C. and when we had both returned home from the weekend of festivities we found ourselves desperately wanting more. Dirty texts kept us going but before long there were late night calls. Him, describing how delightful it was to be deep inside me; how crazy I drove him when I worked him with my tongue. Me, fantasizing about him laying me down, sliding his hand up my dress; his lips pressed against mine while I could feel him getting rock hard at the mere thought of being inside me.
It wasn’t long before either of us could take it. Friday, he flew in to the city and like the gentleman he was invited me to dinner. He was truly terrible, as when I arrived for dinner we were not alone. I sat there with him and his friends in a chic Meatpacking District restaurant. He was cocky and I loved it. Very bold to invite the girl you’re sleeping with to dinner with friends. Clearly he liked to show off.
At dinner he did everything I desired. Slid his hands up my skirt, pushed his fingers inside me, making me gasp. I reached over and felt how hard he was. It was every ounce of willpower not to take him right then and there. I ached to wrap my legs around his waist, unzip his jeans and force him inside of me.
His friend sat across the table from me and I could tell he was aching to get involved. He kept looking me up and down; he was most interested. We left dinner and headed to a near by bar. The friend got us in right away, private table, the usual.
When Ralph Lauren Guy seemed distracted The Friend slid his arm around my waist. He leaned in close so his breath was tickling my neck. If I had doubted it before, it was clear; he wanted me. He told me I was beautiful and that he had to have me. I told him I was going home with Ralph Lauren Guy, but he didn’t seem to care. He placed his hand on my firm ass and told me to call him once Ralph Lauren Guy headed home.
After several more glasses of champagne Ralph Lauren Guy and I could barely keep our hands to ourselves. We jumped into a cab and sped up 8th Avenue towards his hotel. The second the elevator doors closed he grabbed me, pulling me in. He kissed me and I could feel him hard against me. We were practically naked by the time the door to his room shut. On my knees, I took him in my mouth and made him cum. He pushed me by my shoulders into the king sized bed. Lifting my leg up as he undid the straps on my bronze Miu Miu shoes. He kissed my ankle, then worked his way up to my inner thighs. My red Agent Provocateur lace panties were completely soaked and I begged him to slide inside me.
We fucked like it was the last time we might ever get to and I came again and again. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I awoke in sheer panic as I had overslept my flight to Paris.