choose your own adventure

A meditation on anticipation, this was originally intended to have some, y'know, actual sex in it. :) I'm considering rewriting it with that in mind, but I also kinda like the way it turned out. Thoughts?

(Please be gentle - it isn't quite right yet, even if I am keeping it this way.)

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"Hold the elevator!"

I immediately pressed the "close door" button, over and over. But he slipped inside just as the doors slid closed. Fuck, I thought. Why him? Why did it have to be him?

"Hey, beautiful," he drawled. "Why didn't you hold the doors, darlin'?"

Fuck you, I thought, but played dumb. That was, after all, his favorite type. "What? What do you mean?"

"Aw, just drop it," he said. "I know you heard me."

"Good," I said. "Oh, and by the way? Fuck you."

The polished, coolly professional businesswoman across from me is looking at me with more than a bit of concern. "Are you feeling all right?" she asks.

I've got to pull myself together. If I play this meeting right, this client could bring in the only steady work I've had since I decided to go freelance six months ago. I need the money, and the assignments would be at least mildly interesting. But I feel her eyes on me and know I'm blowing it. I have an intense, overwhelming headache today. It's so distracting that I'm having trouble focusing, and I'm certainly not making a very good impression.

There's only one thing to be done when I have a headache this bad. I know from experience that drugs won't make a dent, and since lying down in a dark room isn't really an option right now, I'm going to have to wing it. I've got to have an orgasm, and have one soon, if I'm gonna land this job.
( Read more - it's long, my gosh, I do tend to ramble on... )

In the limo on the way there, he makes me sit across from him. "I want to look at you," he says, and I pull a goofy face, my usual response when I feel pressured. "Seriously," he says. "You look beautiful and I might not get a chance later on, so pony up." I roll my eyes, but play along anyway, letting the sheer shawl slip down my bare shoulders and spreading my knees as far as the narrow gown allows.

"God, you're gorgeous," he breathes, but I can't keep the moment solemn, licking my lips and giving him my best fakey-fake porn-star leer. I hike up my skirt a bit so I can open my legs further, and he leans toward me, trying to get a glimpse at the same goods he can get every night at home. And I've been joking, but then the moment shifts - as I witness his desire, I'm starting to feel some of my own.

"Wider," he orders. I peek over my shoulder through the partition to check on the driver, make sure he's got his eyes on the road. In response to my sudden movement, he flicks his gaze to the rearview mirror, but I figure he probably can't see anything because my back is to him. All he'll be able to see from his perspective is my husband getting more and more aroused.
( Read more... )
- to be continued -