Monday , May 23 2022

Diplomatic incident

I say practically naked, because the gusset of whatever
passed for panties was, across her vaginal area, really
just a loose strip of scallop-edged black lace no more
than about half an inch wide. It did not so much cover
the lips to her entrance as disappear into them, and
into the crack of her arse. She had very little pubic hair
in that area, just a dusting of fine black hairs on the
crest of those pale fleshy lips.

Of course this had to have been deliberate. One does
not succeed as a short-skirted socialite without
knowing exactly which way one’s pussy is pointing. Or
at whom, for that matter. Had my colleague been
thinking along the right track? If so, then she must be
quite a sexual opportunist to be wearing knickers like
that on a state occasion.

The gentleman opposite tore himself away from the
vision of her breasts to go and freshen his drink. She
stood up, and for the first time glanced briefly my way.
If I had blinked I would have missed it, but she jerked
her head very slightly in a silent “Follow me.” Then she
strolled toward the main staircase. Heading for the
stairs was not of itself unusual behaviour, since the
Ladies and Gents rooms were off the upstairs mezzanine.
But giving me the nod to follow was certainly unusual
for a Mrs Ambassador.

My better judgement was saying “Don’t even think
about it!” I didn’t know what she had in mind for us,
but it clearly involved going somewhere more private.
And for two people of our social standing, this was
taking a huge risk. For me, any scandal would get me
sent to a posting in Antarctica. But I found about a
minute later that I was indeed thinking about it, not
only that, I was up and my feet were moving.

Once upstairs she headed past the Ladies and on down
the long corridor. Twenty yards or so behind, I
admired the swaying of her arse as she stalked along on
her high heels. My brains had definitely moved to
regions south, because, having entranced me with
deliberately-revealed bits of herself, she was now
practically leading me along by my dick.

Only when she got to the far door did she turn and look
back to check if I was coming. She was waiting inside
the darkened room when I got there, and she closed the
door behind us.

“Glad you could make it.”

She stood close in front of me, and without further ado
she put her hand right on the front of my trousers. My
dick was only about a half-fat at the time, reflecting my
mix of anticipation yet uncertainty over the agenda for
this meeting. But when she started rubbing the palm of
her hand up and down it a few times, there was soon a
ridgepole making a tent in my fly.

“It was soooo boring listening to those old fossils. I
had to get away for at least a moment.”

“You’re not worried about us creating a diplomatic
incident?” I paid final lip-service to propriety.

“Darrrling! I adore diplomatic incidents! That’s why I
enticed you up here.”

My fly got unzipped, and she fished out my now-
hardened penis. She sank to her knees, and took the
head straight into her mouth. Soft lips closed around it
and her head started bobbing up and down. I gasped. It
felt great! Teeth well out of the way, just encircling
lips, swirling tongue, and velvety cheek linings clinging
to my pole as they sucked-in on each outstroke. She
was clearly well-practiced at the art of blowing.

I mellowed out and just enjoyed the sensations in my
prick. Adjusting to the light, I noticed for the first time
that we were in a large dining room. It was dimly lit
through the windows by the glow of some lamps out in
the grounds below. Expensively but tastefully furnished
in a Victorian style, with oil paintings on the walls,
antique sideboards of dark mahogany or walnut, a central
chandelier, and a substantial dining table that could
seat about a dozen. Its french-polished surface gleamed
in the twilight.

I looked down at Samantha’s expensively-coiffured head
as it bobbed up and down. One hand was pumping my
engorged prick as she sucked. Her other hand was
under the hem of her black gown, pressed between her
legs.

She pulled back from my cock and stood up.

“Okay, its good and hard. Now fuck me with it.”

Who could resist an invitation like that? My ears
seemed to burn at the hearing of it. At the same time,
why was she in such a hurry?

I backed her up against that huge table. She slipped
her bottom up onto it, and lay back on her elbows. I
grabbed each ankle and spread her legs out wide, so
that they formed a “vee” in the air. Parting them had
made her short dress ride up to the tops of her thighs,
so her scantily-clad fanny was now nicely displayed. I
leaned forward and licked my tongue down her inner
thighs then over her bulging sit-sac.

It was now possible to unravel the mystery of the
panties. They were basically a black G-string, made
from a narrow triangle of lace-edged silk which tried
but failed to adequately cover her mound. The lower
point of this triangle tapered off altogether just above
the clit area. This meant that the only thing covering
the entrance to her vagina was a narrow lacy ribbon; it
ran between her legs and up her arsecrack to join the
thin straps of the waistbands at the small of her back.
No wonder there was no panty line!

Since the lacy ribbon had a certain amount of slack in
it, I was able to just pull it to one side with my teeth.
My tongue glided over her bare lips, going from anus to
clitoral hood. She shuddered. I did it again, with the
same result. Her fine, straight black pussy hairs were a
stark contrast against the pale skin of her mound, like
little engraved lines all pointing inward toward the
pinkness at bottom dead centre. Poking one finger at
the soft, yielding vaginal lips, it was swallowed up in
a scalding wetness that seemed to give off heat like a
furnace.

“Fuck me.”

Thanks for reminding me. I stood and put one of her
legs straight up on my shoulder, the other I bent at
the knee and laid sideways on the table. Holding my
cockhead against her entrance and taking aim, I heaved
it in with a single thrust. Her head flew back and she
gasped with the suddenness of it. Pearls gleamed across
her throat. I felt encased in a hot moistness that
seemed to suck at my dick.

I reached forward and pulled the straps of her dress
down off her shoulders as I started my fuck-motion.
The hills made by her breasts rocked back up toward
her armpits in time to each thrust. I love to watch as
breasts are rolling around like that in response to my
humping. I grabbed one and squeezed it firmly, my
fingers digging in a bit. It completely filled my hand
with its softness, with some to spare. I held the stiff
little teat between thumb and forefinger and tugged it
in time with my fuck movements, lifting the whole
breast up into a pointed cone on each pull.

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