Business Trip Chapter 3

Copyright © 2024 by W. Richard St. James

This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental

“YOU OKAY?” BRAD was still working on his ribs. Trying to eat them in a refined manner was taking forever. He’d gone through a few more beers in the process.

“I’m fine.”

“You ran off and then you were gone for a while. I thought maybe you were sick. From all the booze.”

“I had to pee, really badly. Then Sam took me into a back room and he fucked me. Up the ass. So it wouldn’t break the fucking rules.”

“Yeah, right.” Brad waved an empty bottle. He was getting hammered. Not that she was anyone to talk. He didn’t believe her. Maybe it was for the best. She wondered if she was still gaping, if she should give him a little peek at how she had been impaled.

“Tell you what. You can come back to the same room and we’ll do the same thing, if you don’t believe me.”

“Should have said that a few beers ago.”

What a lame fucking excuse. “Come dance with me at least.”

“You want me to dance? You must be really wasted.”

“Come on.” She tugged him out onto the dance floor. And he could dance, after all. Nothing fancy, but his rhythm was fine. Of course he was a musician. She kept herself in check this time and they danced with each other, letting her lead. “You’re not bad.”

“It takes a lot of booze. Want some dessert?”

She glanced at her watch. “Is that shop going to close?”

“At dawn.”

“Okay.”

“Another beer?” The bartender was still there. “Here’s your purse honey. I didn’t think you wanted it on the stool like that.”

“Oh thanks. I think we’re ready for dessert.”

“Sure thing.” He handed them the dessert menu.

“I’ll have the bourbon pecan pie. And coffee.”

“Ice cream?”

“No thanks.”

“Baileys?”

“No thanks.”

“And you honey?”

“I’ll have the chocolate martini.”

“Excellent choice.”

Brad was glaring at her.

“What?”

“I’m going to have to carry you home.”

“You’re a fine one to talk.” Her drink came, a huge martini glass filled with brown fluid and topped with whipped cream.

“Oh my God.” Brad started to laugh. “It’s like the tomato soup with gin sauce I got over in Germany one time. We were over there for a user meeting and somehow I wound up at a table with the Scots. They were the only ones I had trouble understanding, their accent was so thick. Anyway, we’d already had a couple of rounds of beer by the time the menu arrived. There was this soup, tomato soup with gin sauce, and I thought they boiled off the gin. But no, they poured it in at the end. It was like a huge hot Bloody Mary with the beer chaser.”

“It’s good. Want to try some?”

“No thanks.” He had already finished the pie. “Want to get going?” They paid up, splitting it. More than the meal limit, that was for sure. No more blowout dinners this week. Worth it though.

“Enjoy your meal?” the bartender asked as they were leaving.

“To the hilt.” Ann said, and she gave a little wink.

“I’m not going to make it to the hotel without peeing.” As soon as he stood up Brad realized how full his bladder was.

“This way.” Ann led him back to the restrooms. She was ready for another stop. Especially, if they were going to spend some time at the adult store. Her butt was sore. Had she done it some damage, pushing back harder and harder, until suddenly that huge cock had breached some inner barrier and vanished within her? No bleeding, that was a good sign. More cum still working its way out. God, she was a slut. Who was he? She pulled the card out of her skirt pocket and gave a little gasp. How many pretty girls had gone before her? Hundreds, maybe thousands. She might not even be the only one this evening. But he liked her enough to give her his card, to tell her where he was staying. He wanted to see her again. That had to be special. Very special.

“Come on, I want to show you something.” She grabbed Brad’s arm, dragged him down to the door of the privacy room. But it was locked. What would have happened if it had been locked before? “Oh, never mind. Let’s get going.”

To the adult store then, which was open, but almost empty. “Go look at the tapes. I want to look at the toys.” There was a get lost tone to that. Okay. Whatever. Brad was in no mood for a tape tonight, but who knew what tomorrow would bring? Might as well grab one. Anal Adventure. Yeah, that sounded like it would suit his mood. He went back to pay to find Ann holding a bag.

“What’d you get?”

“None of your beeswax.” She grabbed the tape and snorted. “Figures.”

So they went through their respective doors into their respective rooms, and Brad locked his side of the side door to make sure it stayed that way. He looked at the clock by the bed. It wasn’t all that late, He wasn’t all that sleepy. Okay, maybe he would watch some of the tape, maybe take his clothes off which he was going to do anyway to rinse off. He loaded the tape. It wasn’t even rewound properly, starting in the middle. Oh well, what did it matter? He wasn’t watching for the plot. And the dialog was mostly fuck me, fuck me harder, with a lot of moans. Trashy, even for a porn flick. Still, he was transfixed. A tiny white girl, taking a huge black cock. Up the ass, of course. Had Ann really done that, her flesh somehow stretching to that enormous width, her bowels somehow taking in that huge rod? He was playing with himself, not that it would do any good. He was way too drunk for that.

There was a knock on the side door. “What?” He went over to it. The fact that he was naked and at least semi aroused did not faze him as he cracked it open. “What?”

“I heard the tape playing. You were saying it was more fun to watch with company.”

Okay, maybe they’d just sit side by side and she could bring herself off. That wouldn’t be so far out of bounds. The fact that he was naked, that the part of her he could see through the half opened door was naked … well hadn’t they been naked on the beach? And they had watched each other? He probably could even lick her pussy and how different would that be from what his wife had done?

“Well, are you going to let me in or not?” She more or less shoved her way into the room.

“What the fuck?” She wasn’t completely naked after all. She was sporting a large strap-on dildo. A really large one.

“It’s a surprise. For you.”

“Oh. You want me to fuck you with that thing?”

“Other way around.” There was an ottoman in front of the easy chair. She pulled it over to the TV, draped the towel he had left on the chair over it. “Bend over this.” She looked at the tape, started to rub herself behind the harness for the dildo. Yes, it had been just like that, what she had seen in the mirror. Suddenly she knew she needed to do it again. Soon. “Let’s go back a bit. Okay, now you’re going to pretend you’re in the movie.”

“As the guy?”

“No, as the lady. What is she feeling as she gets it up the ass? As it enters her flesh.” She pressed the dildo against his little pucker and nothing happened. Damn, this wasn’t going to work after all. But he reached back to spread his cheeks and voila. Had he done this before? Not something she was going to ask, not right now. “As it plunges into her.” Just like it had with Sam, the thing stuck part way in. But he was reacting to it, gasping a little with each stroke. “Am I hurting you?”

“No. Go faster.”

With that, she pressed harder, until he gave a little yelp as her pelvis slammed into his butt. Damn him. She was going to fuck the shit out of the bastard. Every once in a while Evan would be like that, pounding into her as hard as he could. Not often enough for her taste. “Like that?”

“Go faster.” He was almost coming, strangely, from behind his balls. But not quite, not quite. He tried to reach underneath his belly to find his penis. Useless, squashed and shriveled.

“Don’t do that!” She gave him a slap on the butt to deter him, and he sighed in pleasure.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” She pulled his butt up so she could crouch over him, putting her full weight into each thrust. Not that it was much, probably half of what Sam had been able to use on her. She pulled out most of the way, and slammed back into him as hard as she could. Again, and again. God, what was the matter with him? This wasn’t fun any longer. Her arms were aching. Her pubic bone was getting bruised.

“Okay. That’s enough.”

Finally. She pulled out and went back to his sink to rinse things off. “Here.” She handed him a wet wash cloth. “Wipe yourself up.”

He frowned at how it came back with brown stains, and went over to the sink to rinse it.

“That was interesting. Like a whole body orgasm, and it lasted forever.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“You okay? You want something?”

“Dear heart, my butt is sore. My clit is chafed. I know you aren’t going to fuck me in my pussy because that would be breaking the fucking rules.”

“What about your tits?”

“What about them?” Useless things, except to show off some cleavage.