Nicole and Her Businessman, Finale - Sex Stories

Nicole and Her Businessman, Finale

... centerpieces crowned each dining place promising a meal to remember. A string quartet was playing softly in the corner as waiters passed by with trays of champagne flutes. I looked at Wilson and said, "Do I belong here? This is far beyond the life I've led." "Nikki, you own this gathering. You are my woman, and this is my team. They will love you when they get to know you. Now they are curious. Just be yourself. I'm at your side." I looked around the room and saw Shakira heading toward us with a young Asian woman, who seemed to be in her early twenties and was quite beautiful. Her petite figure filled the pale blue evening dress she wore. The neckline was high, but the back was exposed. Her nipples also sought freedom in their bra-less condition. Shakira was stunning in a long-sleeved gown of gray silk. It exposed no skin as the bodice rose into a high neckline, and her back was covered too. Around her neck, she wore a gold chain from which a solitary diamond hung, pear-shaped and sparkling with fiery flashes of light. It must have been at least five karats. She was the most gorgeous woman in the room. "Nikki, this is my partner, Sharon Tachibana. I've told her all about you,” she said to me. "My pleasure, Sharon, I hope Shakira held a little back about me, so there is still a bit of mystery, " I said, with a laugh. Sharon said, "I hope we'll become good friends. You are so beautiful! Shakira tried to convey your beauty to me in words and she failed. I love your dress. You ...

... fill it so perfectly; there's certainly no 'mystery' about your figure!" She laughed, and I laughed with her even though I was a bit embarrassed by her frankness. The dinner progressed smoothly. At the right time, Wilson introduced his new vice president, Wilton Spring. After a round of applause and a few closing remarks, he said, "Let's have some fun now, dance, drink and meet your old friends. Thank you for coming tonight." The quartet had been replaced by a piano trio playing a wide variety of old favorites most suitable for dancing with a lover. Wilson guided me out onto the floor, pulled me close to him and kissed me, and then we moved to the music. He was an effortless dancer. He led me as if I were a China doll, a delicate hold on my body; my face pulled in close to his neck. My nipples were hard; my body began to light up with the invisible halo of arousal for him. I could feel his cock as I moved into him closer, not quite hard but questing to be so. We danced, drank, laughed, and I met dozens of people. All was well until about an hour after the trio started playing. Wilson guided me back to the table to sit out for a while. We were sitting alone, and I had his hand in my lap while his other hand and arm circled around my waist, grasping me just below my right breast. He was using his thumb to massage its bottom curve, and I had a hard time sitting still. "Well, Wilson, is this the latest cradle-robbing chicky?" A tall blond, obviously drunk, very attractive in a hard ...