The Princess

The princess works with me. She is stunning, the kind of woman that you can't help but stare at. When she talks, you can't hear what she's saying because you are struggling to breathe. When she moves, it's like a dance, so graceful. She is probably the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She is tall, about 5'9", with long black hair and that beautiful caramel tan that all women envy. Her eyes are almost black. She has high, full breasts and full hips. She's not skinny, a bit thick actually, but damn those curves. And, she has no idea how fucking gorgeous she is. She thinks I'm beautiful, but believes she's average. Lord, she is amazing.

I commented to a friend that it is a shame that she's married. He dared me to flirt with her. It was juvenile, I know, but I love to flirt. It seemed harmless enough. She didn't seem to notice and asked if we were still meeting after work for a drink.

We went to our local after work spot (it's a biker bar, but cozy). She ordered a round of shots. That was unusual. Typically it's just one beer for happy hour. The moment the glasses were empty, she ordered another round and slid her hand up my thigh. I ordered the next two rounds.

She talked, I listened. Apparently the princess and her husband were interested in trying a threesome. They just couldn't agree on a playmate. He was determined to have a girl and she wanted a guy. She asked for my advice on the subject. I told her I didn't really have any advice to give. I had been in relationships where the topic was discussed, and I'd been invited to join a few couples, but it's not something I had ever actually participated in. She blushed, unable to make eye contact, when she said she was willing to go with a girl if I would agree. Her husband had made the suggestion and she liked the idea.

I stopped drinking. I needed to think about it. I told her we'd talk soon. I walked down to the gas station on the corner and bought a large coffee, walked back to my car, and sat in it for a long time until I was sure I could drive. I went home alone, with visions of her in my mind.

Wednesday: Dinner for Two

We went out for dinner at our favorite authentic Mexican restaurant, just the two of us. We talked about work for a while, drinking margaritas. I hate margaritas, but she loves them, and I needed courage. I told her that I was very flattered and tempted, but no. I just didn't want to be the third party. If I brought someone into my relationship and it ruined things, I could live with that. I just didn't want to be the one that potentially ruins someone else's relationship. That's why I've always turned down these types of requests.

She was persistent at first. Eventually, we moved on to safer topics. Then the princess said it, the phrase I'd fantasized about hearing her say, "I want you." Her husband initiated this whole discussion, but she said we could leave him out of it. He knew how badly she wanted me and he would understand.

I was interested. I was also feeling the damn margaritas. I couldn't think clearly. I was hot, flushed, and so wet. She was intoxicating. I needed to get out of there.

We walked out, her hand on the small of my back as she led me to my car. I turned to tell her goodbye and that I would think about it, think about her.

She pushed me back against the car and leaned in to kiss me. It was a slow, deep kiss. I slid my hands up into her hair and held her there. I could smell her perfume, her shampoo, her. My senses were on overload.

She slid a hand down to my breast, cupping it, squeezing gently. I moaned. She moaned. She began to unbutton my blouse, still kissing me. My head was spinning. I remember thinking we shouldn't do this here, but I couldn't stop. I wouldn't.

Pulling my blouse open, she slid her hand in my bra, cupping my bare breast again as her thumb began circling my nipple. I was afraid I'd cum right then. My nipples are extremely sensitive and her touch was exquisite. She pulled her hand away, and I sighed.

As the princess reached down and slid my skirt up, her fingertips dragging along my inner thigh, I whispered, "We really shouldn't do this here."

"Shhh, let me touch you," and she did.

Sliding my panties to the side, she slid her middle finger along my lips, making me tremble. I kissed her again, deeper, harder, pulling her hair as I held her mouth against mine.

She slipped her finger in, just the tip of her finger, and began to search. When she found my clit I jerked, thrusting against her hand. We moaned together, loud. I bit her lip. She responded by pressing harder against my clit.

She pulled her mouth away from mine, leaning in to whisper against my ear. "You are going to cum for me. Right here. Right now. Do you understand?"

I couldn't speak, just moaned. She slid her finger in deep. Then another. Her thumb found my clit, making little circles as her fingers started to move. She was finger-fucking me against the side of my car in a well-lit parking lot. I felt ... naughty. Hot.

Soon she began to move her fingers faster, thrusting in and out, slamming my hips back against the car with the force of her thrusts. I could hear her whispering against my ear, telling me how good I feel, how tight I am, how much she wanted to taste me. Telling me to cum, begging me to cum for her. And I did. Hard. Grinding against her hand, moaning into her hair, holding her tight against me, I came for her.

When I started to calm down, I kissed her gently, slowly. I reached for the hem of her sweater, but she stopped me.

"Tonight was for you, baby. I needed to make you cum. I needed to hear you. This weekend will be for us. Just us. Promise me you'll think about it?"

I whispered, "I don't need to think about it. You are mine this weekend. All mine. Do you understand?"

She smiled and said yes, then kissed me goodbye and walked to her car. I stood there trembling, struggling to straighten my clothes as I watched her drive away.

Our weekend began Thursday ... and it was amazing.