"Good evening, sir."The tuxedoed man standing a mere two feet to his right stood straight and still as a statue. His face was pale and as translucent as tissue paper, and as Steven met his stare, he recognized the same blank, unblinking eyes as the guests downstairs."I - uh - I'm looking for my wife." In the men's room, sir?" No - I mean - well, she left her seat twenty minutes ago, to go to the ladies room." Ah, the ladies room is outside, to the right, sir. I suggest you wait for her there." But, I have, and she's - well, she's not there."The man's eyes narrowed, as though trying to peer through Steven."Is your wife prone to straying, if I may be so bold, sir?" Straying? I - no, no she isn't." Well, many women are. My own wife was a prime example. So unpredictable, so strong-willed, such - unquenchable desires."The man's expression relaxed, his eyes now those of a knowing confidant."Look, have you seen her?" Steven asked finally. "Black dress, brown hair, very pretty..." Ahh, yes. I. Kiss it. Worship it." I complied, running my tongue over the glans, down the shaft, over his testicles. I heard his sharp intake of breath. One hand played with my vagina while I licked and sucked and wished I could use my hands to pleasure him. After a while, he lifted himself away from my face and lowered his head between my legs. I cried out at the touch of his tongue. He snarled, "I'm done with your mouth, and you can't keep it shut, so..." The remains of my panties became a gag. As an afterthought, the bedside towel became a blindfold. Unable to see what he was doing, I focussed my attention on his touch, on his flicking tongue torturing my clitoris and labia. Relentless, he drove me to the brink of orgasm, and pulled away. His tongue and hands caressed my thighs, my breasts, everywhere except where I needed to feel him. My every muscle quivered, not knowing where his touch would fall next. Finally, I felt his penis again. He inserted just the head into me, slowly stroking in.
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