Her coworker suggested one more glass of wine and she hesitated. Wine made her feel lightheaded and agreeable, even spontaneous, clouding her judgment.
And she knew after this he was going to invite her into his room again, just like the last time and the time before that. She would have to say no again. If she said yes, he and she both knew what would happen. He would touch her and take off her dress and she would give in to everything. She’d take his big hard dick in her mouth and suck him while grinding herself into his leg. She wanted him to come all over her neck and breasts. Then she’d get him hard again and let him into her pussy and she’d take every inch and fuck him back as hard as she could. She wanted to break the bed, to come on his bare cock, scratch him and beg for it, feel him explode inside her, milk him dry.
Then her dangerous work friend would finally be her lover, every pretense of restraint would be gone, and every business trip would end in his hotel bed or hers, or the shower, or the back seat of the rental car, or the hot tub, or an airplane bathroom, or wherever else he would kiss her neck and reach up her skirt. And every promise she made to her husband, some as recent as last night, would be broken and crushed and eventually she wouldn’t care when he cried and begged because his penis couldn’t make her feel this way and she was bored with him and got off on the idea of him finding out, finding her naked with another man, the man he was so nervous about last night.
It all made her so nervous and flushed to think about it. And wet between her legs. One more glass of wine..