“I’m sure you want to get back home to your son,” he said.
“He’s fine, and you can’t drive,” Jennifer countered. “And neither can I. We can sleep it off and head home in the morning. The sitter won't mind.”
And that much was true. Barbara adored Jaxson, and it only took a phone call to make sure the older woman was okay with having him through the night. They were close enough to the hotel to walk—it was only a few blocks—and Jennifer and Ryan did just that.
Jennifer stood with him in the hotel lobby, waiting as he checked in. She was feeling frisky, a bit lightheaded, and she felt like playing once more with the man who had such a massive crush on her. She pinched his ass and slid her hand into his pocket, brushing along his hardening member with the tips of her fingers through the material of his pocket, playing it off like an accident.
“Looking for gum,” she said with a grin when he gasped and looked at her. Ryan got a keycard to the room and they rode in the elevator to the fifth floor. Ryan led the way down the hall and opened the door to the room.
It was a nice room, spacious and with one bed. Ryan saw it and his face fell. “Oh, I didn’t even think,” he said. “I can sleep on the loveseat.”
Jennifer laughed and slapped his arm playfully. “That’s a big bed. I’m sure we’ll both be fine in it,” she said, and she went in and kicked off her heels. She had dressed up for the dinner, a tight black dress that was low cut enough to show off her massive breasts, but not so much as to make her look trashy. It was short as well, but she had the body to make it work. She wore dark hose, stockings only, and when she sat on the end of the bed to take her earrings out, she crossed her leg and hem of the dress came up, her creamy, milky thigh showing above the material of the stocking.
She saw Ryan looking and grinned. She kept her earring in, instead reaching down to her leg with one hand, running her fingers up the material of the stocking. “I love thigh highs,” she said in a soft voice, practically purring. “Don’t you?”
Ryan was near the door. He nodded. She looked him over, smiling to herself when she noticed the bulge in his pants. The man might be a bit nerdier than most men she had been with, but it looked as though his cock was large.
“Come touch them,” Jennifer said. She was telling him to do it. It was an invitation she didn’t expect him to turn down. She ran her index finger up her own thigh, catching the hem of her dress and hiking it up even farther. Ryan went forward. He stopped in front of her and reached down, but she slapped his hand away. The men she was usually with, they were in charge. Always. But with Ryan, Jennifer knew she could be in charge.
“Kneel down,” she said. Ryan nodded again and did so. She wondered if he would be able to speak.
He reached out for her again, but she slapped his hand once more. She stood up.
“Do you think about me when you jerk off?” Jennifer asked the man. She felt her pussy growing hot, her juices beginning to flow.
“Yes,” Ryan breathed.
“You hold your cock, you milk it, you make yourself come, thinking about me?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think about?”
“Let me touch your stockings,” Ryan said.
“Tell me what you think about first, and then you can,” Jennifer said.
“I think about fucking you.”
“How?”
“Every way. Bent over the back of my couch.”
“Did you jerk off while you thought of me last night? Knowing you were bringing me here?”
“Yes,” Ryan said. “Let me touch you.”
Jennifer was enjoying herself too much. She knew she would let the man have her, but she was having fun with him. No man she had fucked before would have asked her permission to touch her. Ryan wanted her so badly, and it was driving him nuts, and it drove her nuts in turn.
“Tell me what you pictured me doing last night, and then you can.”
“I pictured you sucking my cock as I drove here.”
“Road head?”
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“Did you come in my mouth?”
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“Did I swallow it?” Jennifer asked.
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“Touch my stockings,” Jennifer said. Standing in front of the kneeling man, his face was eye level with her waist. He reached forward, a hand on each leg, starting at her calf and working up. His wrists met the hem of her dress and pushed it up. He kept raising his hands, and soon his fingers touched her skin, leaving the top of the stockings. He stopped then and worked his hands back down, onto the thigh highs.
“Are you hard?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to see my pussy?” Jennifer asked.