In the end, for this rather formal business trip, she voted for conservative business wear. She slipped cuffs on her wrists. A collar around her neck carried a diagonally striped cloth ('Why do they call it a @tie?') that fell between her breasts almost to her waist. She left her light brown hair long across her back, slightly restrained by an ivory bar.Gold ear cuffs weren't considered out of place in this case, but she made sure to apply her current flash (hetero, non-committed), an adhesive design which went above her left breast, like a badge or, the thought occurred to her, a combat ribbon. One or the other — coded earrings or flash — was essential to wear: to wear neither would be a come-on.She slipped on high-cut briefs and secured her knife on the inside of her upper thigh. The kilt, though open on the sides to the tight, broad band that defined her waist, almost concealed the weapon that everyone carried. Her shoes were nearly invisible, a cap over her toes, a foot-bed that. We kissed like long lost lovers sucking and licking each others tongues, necks and ears. We could not keep our hands from roaming over each others' bodies. "I was hoping you would come back," she whispered. "It's all I thought about." "Me too."With our lips still locked and our tongues still exploring each others' mouth, I walked backwards toward the king size bed. As we passed the closets with their mirrored doors, she stopped me. "I want to watch myself giving you head." Jennifer removed my jacket, shirt and cummerbund before she dropped to her knees. After removing my shoes and socks she slowly undid my tux trousers and let them puddle at my feet. She planted warm kisses on my stomach as she slowly slid down my boxers down until they were also around my ankles. My shaft was now freed from its prison and sprang to attention. She positioned me so I offered a profile in the mirror and then stood up. She started kissing my lips and neck while ever so slowly moving to my chest where.
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