One Glass Too Many - Sex Stories

One Glass Too Many

I checked my makeup in my compact as I waited for Tom to come meet me. He was late. Again. Work. I had spent two months making myself look good for him and now this. It was our one year anniversary that night. I wore a sleeveless, gold cocktail dress that I had to lose ten pounds to wear properly. It was very form-fitting, backless, showing just a hint of cleavage. It was classy enough that it fit in in that downtown lounge, but slutty enough to draw attention. I never had large breasts, but I loved that about myself. The fact that I have the body of a dancer and soft, tan skin, combined with dark, almond shaped eyes, meant that I never wanted for male attention. I settled down with Tom because he was, well, safe. He was strong, decent, good looking, and absolutely boring. The only big problem with Tom is that my tastes have always been expensive, and he has to work all kinds of hours to get me what I want. He rarely had time to spend with me. But he was a man that I could see myself growing old with, because I know that he will never hurt me. I called Tom again. No answer. In the reflection of the bar, I saw an older gentleman walking towards her. He was well dressed and handsome, in a worldly way. She cleared her throat as he passed by and could smell his cologne. He glanced at her and stopped when he saw her. She felt flushed as he looked at her. "Hi," he said. “What brings you out here tonight?” He wore a suit that was clearly made for him and had eyes as blue as water. ...

... "Oh, hi there,” I said softly, because I couldn’t think of anything sexier to say. I bit my lip and just looked at him. His big, blue eyes seemed to pierce me to the core. I felt myself go moist as I looked him up and down. I felt my nipples pushing against my dress, into the fabric. “What are you drinking tonight,” he asked as he signaled the bartender with an outstretched hand. "Chardonnay." I turned and looked at this man and felt an immediate connection. It wasn’t just his looks. It was something else; that look a man has when he is in complete control of himself and his world. I wanted to get to know this man. I wondered how it would be to kiss him and to fuck him. I desperately wanted to know how his kiss would taste. He leaned into the bar right beside me, placed his hand on my back and said, "A woman dressed that well doesn’t drink chardonnay.” He then turned to the bartender and said, “Champagne for the lady. Dom Perignon.” The bartender said, “Sir, that is only sold by the bottle.” “Then open one up,” he said. We spoke for some time. We talked about me and about him. He was in town for a few days to close a deal and then it was off to London for another one. He hadn't been home in three months. The thought of living his life, traveling from one place to the next, living in hotels, eating room service, was very appealing. We were three glasses in when I surprised myself. I took his pointer finger and sucked gently on it, looking into his big blue eyes. He smiled like ...