So for the last three Thursday night mixers I was dressed in a suit sipping a glass of ginger ale and watching my beautiful bride mingle. Not only was...she hot, she was actually damn good at her job. I had seen her smooth over some rough feeling between vendors and turn right around and negotiate a price break from a supplier. She could charm, cajole, and twist arms if needed to get what she wanted. Every so often she would look over at me making small talk with someone and give me a wink. Our. But not quite. He moans and I feel his dick start to get harder, pressing against my pussy through our jeans. I reach to the edge of his jeans and unbutton them, then unzip them. Finally, his jeans drop to floor and he kicks them aside. He lifts me up and I pull my own jeans off, along with my underwear. He smiles and lays my back down along our counter island. The cold hematite top makes me moan and arch my back. He kisses my neck, down to my chest. Leaving small hickeys along behind. He lifts. More

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