Kate: Pounding Bodies

"I'm in the spa. If you'd like, get undressed and join me."

Stripping down to my undies I walked into the bathroom to find Chris laid out in the spa. I wasn't kidding when I said at the start of this story that Chris's boss had booked a deluxe suite for himself that Chris was now the beneficiary of. The spa was big enough to hold a party in and Chris had more than enough room to stretch his significant height fully out and still be up to his neck in the water. Putting a hand on his chest to support myself, I bent over to give him a greeting kiss and watched down through the clear water as he predictably grew a boner.

Releasing my bra clip behind my back while I was still bent over, I let my breasts fall out under his nose and slid a nipple across his cheek before offering it to him to lick and suck for a moment. Then I finished undressing and got into the spa; sitting on top of him, his erection pushing against my coccyx and lower spine while I laid my head back over his shoulder, his arm around my chest as he turned the spa bubbles on.

"How was the conference?"

"Ok I suppose. Some of it was a bit over my head and other bits a bit boring. Still, you learn a lot and it's good to get to know your workmates a bit better."

"Did you get any good gossip?"

"A few snippets which won't make much sense to you because you haven't met the people concerned; but I suspect the best gossip comes when they all get drunk in the evening. Actually if the truth be known, most of the gossip I was involved in today was people fascinated by you.

I think you left most of the guys you met at the cocktail party last night drooling into their drinks and weeping pre-cum into their pants and the older women wanting to play matchmaker and make sure I didn't let you go.

Since I'd never mentioned you before and they hadn't seen you at the socials we held in Sydney, they all wanted to know who you were."

"Did I embarrass you with what I was wearing?"

"Hardly. I loved it; as I suspect did every other male in the room. Anyhow you wowed both the men and the women with your charm. They all thought you were an absolute darling."

"Flattery like that will get you anywhere. The dress I've got for tonight is even more out-there; but if you don't like it I've got a backup. What did you tell them about who I was?"

"I wasn't sure you'd like me to call you a girlfriend, so I just told them you were a really good and special friend who lives in Canberra and I hadn't seen for a while; although I will admit there were a couple of guys who were complete strangers came up to me at lunch and wanted to talk about you and I did use the 'g' word with them just so they didn't bug you and I could keep you to myself tonight.

I suppose these days even the older ones wouldn't find my describing you as a special friend and you being at breakfast the next morning all that strange a combination."

Ah, sweet Chris; stepping delicately through the minefield of my relationship aversion problems. At the end of our week of mad passionate sex last summer, which had started with me taking his virginity, he'd made it clear he was more than happy to commute from Sydney to see me so we could continue a relationship. I'd poured cold water on the idea. As much as Chis and I had a special chemistry from the moment we'd laid eyes on each other, I wasn't at that time willing to risk making things complex.

Chris had taken it in his stride; even encouraging me to talk out my issues and the reasons for them. We'd parted with a resigned sense of sad mutual loss and lingering affection that was worthy of the ending of the movie Casablanca or a weepy movie; me seeing him off at the airport, shedding a sob and tear as I sat in my car afterwards and all.

Of course, that was before Karen and Greg and their relationship had really challenged me to think about what I wanted out of life.

I'd thought of Chris from time to time over the months and wondered if I'd made the right decision; wondered whether some girl has captured his heart and taken yet another nice guy permanently out of circulation. Even now I was curious about the path of his love life over the past months.

Still, my medicine course left little time for play. I recognised a geographically impossible relationship would put more stress on me than I thought my studies could cope with and would seriously complicate what would in any case be a fraught attempt at maintaining a relationship. If Chris lived in Canberra things might be different and worth a try. But he didn't. Already, in the last 24 hours, I'd braced myself for another sad goodbye.

But that was tomorrow. Tonight should be fun and unburdened by such thoughts.

I spun around to face him, grabbing his erection under my own body with both my hands to anchor myself as I floated over him.

"I don't mind what you call me. I know you understand what is and isn't possible and that I think you're a really nice and attractive guy just the same. That we can enjoy the time we share together is all that really matters.

Still if you call me a girlfriend how are you going to explain all the other attractive chicks you go out with in Sydney?"

I pushed myself against him and kissed him, lifting the tip of his erection up hard against my stomach.

If you think my last sentence was dangling a line looking for some evidence of his love life, you're not wrong. But with his male brain now dominated by the feel of my hands around his cock, he missed he hint, simply responding to my kiss by placing his hand behind my head and pulling my mouth more firmly against his.

As a stream of bubbles from the spa ran through my crutch and tickled up my clit, I let myself sink into full contact with the length of Chris's body; first of all bringing my nipples and breasts down onto his chest and then sinking my hips to bring them down until our bodies were separated only by the thickness of his erection with my hands around it.

We embraced and kissed; rolling around in the spa like hyper-active lovers on the crisp sheets of a newly made hotel bed - him on top, me on top and back again, our legs intertwined, his thigh moving against my clit and his cock rubbing softly up and down on the lower parts of my stomach. The firm unyielding shaft of his erection was constantly surging deeply into my flesh with its excitement and anticipation; auto-seeking an opening which while there and ready wasn't yet part of the play. There was plenty of time for sex; but before that we wanted some pure unadulterated passion.

I'm not a great one for giving head - or receiving it for that matter. I prefer the heat of two bodies firmly bound together while I'm having sex. Still, today I was feeling playful. In the liquid warmth of the spa and in the knowledge Chris understood the difference between foreplay and the final act, I broke away and floated back down his body until my head was over his cock.

Lifting it upright until the tip just broke the surface, I wrapped my lips around it, held my breath and slid them down the length of the shaft as far as was comfortable for me. There was something about the combination of my mouth and the hot water that amped up the sensation for Chris. Dropping his head back he let out a long deep groan of incredible pleasure.

Like a scene from an exorcism, for the next couple of minutes as my lips pleasured him under the water, I watched as his head turned slowly from side to side against the side of the spa as he continued to groan. It was as if I was inflicting on him an ecstasy too great to bear; tortured by pleasure almost.

Finally he could take no more. His actions made it all too clear the "I really need to stick my dick in you" moment had arrived. He held my arm and pulled me up towards him until our lips were melded again, my body high enough on his that the tip of his cock was between my legs; instinctively surging to lift itself as it searched out the opening to my body.

"Shit" I thought. I hadn't brought a condom into the bathroom. It was going to be a real mood spoiler to get out and go dripping through the bedroom to get one. But I didn't know what he'd been up to for the last many months. It wasn't an option not to.

"On the corner of the tub."

It was all Chris could get out as his passions started to overwhelm him and demand release. I looked over and there sat a number of still sealed packets. Thank god. Chris knew the rules and between us there was never any coyness about revealing our lustful intentions.

In a moment he was sheathed and letting out the most deeply intense, satisfying sigh as my body readily swallowed the full length of his anxious manhood into its warm embrace.

For a moment I'd thought he'd just go off prematurely; so great had been his pre-penetration state of arousal. Instead, there was a brief interlude as we both enjoyed that profound sense of intimacy that comes with having a part of someone else's anatomy so deeply inside yours and conversely for the guy as having that most sensitive part of your body entombed so completely inside the girl's. Pushing hard against each other we just kissed and stroked each other's faces and rolled around in the water with our legs intertwined while our bodies were caressed by the jets of water and air streaming through the spa.

When the moment came for the serious stuff to start, I was on top in a reverse missionary; my legs outside Chris's. Trouble was as I started to move my body up and down over his, the water in the tub started to surge back and forwards in rhythm with me, picking up momentum with every thrust until it was starting to slosh over the side and leaving us both giggling at what we were doing.

Still, rather than attract the attention of building maintenance by causing a leak in the ceiling below us, I switched to my more normal cowgirl upright stance where my lifting and dropping and grinding movements caused less water problems and Chris could curl his body up to suck one nipple while playing with the other between his fingers.

With the head start he'd had, it wasn't long before it was becoming clear Chris didn't have long to go. I could see he was trying to hold back, but both the noises he was making and his body's movements made obvious his moment of release was close. I started to ramp up my movements, trying to make sure I found my climax too, but all that did was set Chris off; leaving him groaning his orgasm into my nipple and jerking up into my hips as I kept pounding away at him.

Now it was a race; my orgasm against his loss of hardness. I banged up and down on him, grinding my clit against his pubis.

I think Chris had reached that moment of exquisite sensitivity post orgasm, because he was making these little squeally groaning noises; whether they were of pleasure or torture or a bit of both, I don't know and I doubt he did at the time. But that wasn't going to stop me. I was running hot and focused on getting there.

As I came I threw my head back and involuntarily let out a stream of "Oh, Oh, Oh, yes, oh...", the first few probably loud enough to be heard three rooms away not to mention in the corridor outside. That's hotels for you - even the fanciest. Just when all the delegates were in their rooms getting ready for the evening too. We might have to check the corridor was clear before we left this evening, just so no-one knows who was making all the noise

I lay back down on top of Chris as my body released what was left of his erection; but I was still feeling quite frisky. As I smothered him in kisses, he put his arms around me, sliding his thigh up between my legs only to have me start gently rubbing my clit up and down on it.

Guys can get bad press for their post sex performances. Supposedly all they want to do is roll over and go to sleep; which for a while anyway, is all their now flaccid cocks are good for. Girls often want something more. The trouble for guys is that something can range from a peck of a kiss, to a cuddle all the way up to another five orgasms. And there's no sign on the girl's forehead telling the guy what it is for today. And god help you if you guess wrong too!

Chris had always been a wonderful post sex satisfier and I had no hesitation in making my intentions clear. Taking the hint he slipped his hand down between my thighs, rolled half over me and started fingering me while alternating between kissing me and sucking a nipple or generally playing with a breast. Fingering was a speciality Chris came with when I first met his virginal self. From the first time he did it for me he inevitably seemed to induce a back arching, cry out loud end result.

With the currents of warm water swirling between my legs and magnifying the effects of his fingers, today was no exception; inducing an arch of my back that brought my whole body clear of the water as I again left anyone within three doors of us in the hotel in no doubt that more than a little hanky panky was going on.

But after some ten minutes of that sort of fingering and sex play, Chris's erection was back. Like most guys, Chis always really liked a him on top, massive thrusting, sexual climax. Of course, that's not always what is going to satisfy a girl and Chris was ever one to put that first. So when our sexual games had put me ahead on the orgasm count I was always happy to give him a free pass to a climb aboard and just go for it turn.

After a renewal of his condom, that's what he got now. When his thrusting also started to cause the water to slosh over the edge we finished with me arching my back to bring my body nearly up to the surface of the water while Chris continued to work away on top of me; making sure that by the time he filled his condom, we were both completely knackered.

Still, then we got to use the spa for what they're intended for - relaxing. We had a big night ahead. We needed to recover our energy.

An hour later, as we prepared for the evening ahead, I went into the bathroom to put on my evening dress.

I needed to secure my breasts into place with Hollywood tape and that was the best place to see what I was doing and make sure it was neat.

I hoped the dress was OK with Chris. Corporate evenings are delicate affairs. You have to be careful to tone it right. Like the cocktail dress I'd worn last night, this one was more "red carpet, guarantee your photo in the paper the next day" in its showiness rather than a classical corporate dinner dance evening dress. Indeed, since it was a major label I'd only been able to afford because I'd bought it cheaply in a second hand fashion shop, for all I knew it had been worn by some young starlet at the Logies or some other awards night.

And you needed to be young to get away with this dress. A halter top, it plunged deeply at the front to well under the bottom of the breasts, while also dropping near vertically at the sides showing not just under-boob but, when your breasts were perky D-cups like mine, a tunnel right through below the breast line. At about the level of the bottom of the central plunge line, there was a back-tie drawing the thin clinging material into the lower chest under the breasts, accentuating their size while being completely unforgiving of anything other than a washboard flat stomach. From there it dropped to the floor, flaring just a little so that the split which ran down each leg from the hips tended to hang together rather than the seams separating into a wide gap. Still, the static in the material tended to draw a fold of loose material between your legs, highlighting your crutch.

There was no chance of wearing a bra. Some degree of stretch in the material and its diaphanous clingy unlined nature meant that your breasts were embraced at the sides somewhat. That combined with the judicious use of Hollywood tape gave you some chance of not having them fling out the sides of the dress as you danced. But that's where perkiness was critical. Retaining saggy ones while dancing would be as hopeless as trying to hide the working pendulum on a grandfather clock by sticking a thin line of tape down the centre of the glass which covered it.

Of course, the words diaphanous, clingy and unlined when used in connection with a top also mean nippily. The warmth of the hotel might help, but mine reacted quickly to any arousal. They were going to attract attention and very likely comment.

At the back it plunged low enough to show the top of my bum crack; the thin line of the back tie being the only break to the expanse of exposed back flesh. A very low slung thong I'd bought in a blue satin material matching the dress was the only underwear you could get away with; but going commando was impossible given the side splits and likelihood of crutch peeks from that direction.

There is no doubt it was over the top. But Chris was young, good looking himself and a mere summer clerk in the organisation. I figured having a stunning girl in a drop dead gorgeous sexy gown was likely to do more good than harm to his credibility even if the room was going to be filled with much older people. I'd packed a more conservative but still revealing backup if he didn't like it.

I walked back out to the bedroom to show it to him and was stunned by the Adonis in a dinner suit who stood there waiting for me.

Circling once slowly and then again fast enough to let the flaps which the side splits left draping from above my crutch fly up as they might if I was dancing, I asked... "Is the dress too much?"

In a way watching his cock tent out his pants even as I asked should have answered the question. But Chris's brain gave a different answer to his cock.

"It's gorgeous. You'll be the talk of the ball."

"Yea, but is the talk going to damage your reputation?"

"I don't think so, but I'll happily take that risk."

"I've got another dress if you're not sure."

"I'm sure."

But actually, if arousal was a test of suitability, Chris was going to have to lose the dinner suit too. Sad to say, but I'd never dated a guy in a nice proper dinner suit. Even the school formal (prom for some of you) was more business suit than dinner suit; assuming you don't count the purple ones and others in ridiculous colours and cheap materials. God he looked nice in it.

I walked up to him and, sliding it inside the coat, traced my finger down from his collar bone and across the chest; enjoying the feel of the smooth silk of the shirt as it clung to his muscular bod as concurrently I felt my crutch moisten in desire and watched his cock almost burst the fly of his pants.

With a finger flirtatiously on his shoulder I pivoted around his body, admiring the suit close up from all angles; and especially the way it conformed around his tight little butt. Just as I lifted my hand off his shoulder to let me complete the circle around him, I was struck by an impulse. Sitting on the bedside table was a packet of condoms. I grabbed two that had spilled out and as I came around the front again slipped them deeply into his side pocket; letting the back of my hand stroke the full length of his rigid cock as I pulled it out of his pocket. Why we might need them when the function was in this hotel, I didn't know. But better to be sure than sorry.

Hand in hand we talked animatedly as we took the ten minute walk across the full length of the sprawling hotel to the ball room in amongst the conference suite Chris had spent the day in.

Predictably, the dress did attract attention. During the pre-dinner cocktails it was amazing just how many guys decided a selfie including me and Chris - with me placed prominently in the shot - was a really good idea. In a rare quite moment Chris said he'd never had so many people pointedly join the circle we were talking in to engage him in conversation, even if they did then turn the conversation to draw me in.