Conference Sparks

The moment I spotted her across the crowded hotel bar, my cock twitched like it remembered her before my brain did. Lisa Hargrove—my sharp-tongued classmate from ten years ago—stood there in a fitted navy blazer and pencil skirt that hugged her hips like it was painted on. Her dark hair fell in loose waves now, and those green eyes still had that mischievous glint. We were both in town for the same three-day marketing summit, and the air between us crackled instantly.

"Lisa? Holy shit, is that really you?" I said, sliding onto the stool beside her.

She turned, lips curving into a slow smile that went straight to my groin. "Mark Thompson. Still got that boyish grin, I see. Didn't think I'd run into my old debate partner at a dull conference like this."

We ordered drinks—whiskey for me, gin for her—and the flirting started before the ice even melted. Her knee brushed mine under the bar, deliberate.

"You always did know how to argue your way into my head," I murmured, eyes dropping to the way her blazer strained over her full tits. "Remember that time you wore that short red dress to the senior mixer? Distracted the hell out of me."

Lisa laughed softly, leaning in so I caught a whiff of her citrus perfume. "Oh, I remember. You kept stumbling over your points. Bet you were hard the whole night thinking about what was under it." Her voice dropped. "Still thinking about it now?"

My pulse kicked up. "Guilty. That skirt's doing the same thing tonight. How the fuck are you even hotter after all these years?"

She bit her lip, eyes sparkling. "Flattery won't get you everywhere, Mark... but it might get you upstairs." She traced a fingertip along my wrist. "Room 1427. Ten minutes?"

I was in the elevator with her in seven. The doors barely closed before our mouths crashed together, hungry and familiar. Her hands fumbled with my tie while I backed her against the mirrored wall, palming her ass through that tight skirt.

"Fuck, Lisa... you taste even better than I imagined back then," I growled between kisses.

She pulled back just enough to whisper, "Then stop imagining and do something about it." Her fingers worked my belt open with practiced ease as the elevator dinged on her floor.

Inside her room, the tension snapped. We didn't rush to strip naked. Instead, she pushed me onto the edge of the bed and stood between my knees, making me watch. Her fingers toyed with the top button of her crisp white blouse, popping it slowly. The fabric parted to reveal the lacy edge of a black bra cupping her heavy breasts.

"Like what you see?" she teased, voice husky. "You used to stare at these in class when you thought I wasn't looking."

"I was obvious as hell." My hands slid up her thighs, bunching her skirt higher until I could see the tops of her thigh-high stockings. I traced the smooth skin above them, feeling her tremble. "Take the rest off for me. Slow."

She smiled, that same flirtatious curve from a decade ago, and undid the next buttons one by one. Each reveal built the heat—smooth collarbones, the valley between her tits, the soft curve of her belly. When the blouse finally dropped to the floor, she turned, presenting her back.

"Unzip me?"

My fingers found the zipper of her skirt, dragging it down inch by inch so the fabric whispered over her hips and pooled at her feet. Black lace panties framed her juicy ass perfectly, the thong disappearing between firm cheeks. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and peeled them down her legs, kissing the backs of her thighs as I went. She stepped out, now only in bra, stockings, and heels.

"God, you're dripping already," I said, running a finger along her slick pussy lips from behind. She was shaved smooth, her folds glistening. "All this from a little flirting at the bar?"

"Mmm... you always knew exactly what to say to get me wet." Lisa arched her back, pushing against my hand. "Touch me more. I've wanted your fingers on my clit since I saw you downstairs."

I stood, pressing my hard cock—still trapped in my boxers—against her bare ass while reaching around to circle her swollen clit with two fingers. She moaned, head falling back against my shoulder. With my free hand I unclasped her bra, letting her tits spill free. They were heavy and warm, nipples tight and begging. I pinched one gently, rolling it as I rubbed her pussy faster.

"Mark... yes, like that," she gasped. "Don't stop flirting with my cunt."

I spun her around and we tumbled onto the bed. She straddled me, grinding her wet slit along the length of my freed cock while I finally kicked off the rest of my clothes. The slow drag of her slick heat over my shaft was torture. Her tits swayed above my face as she rocked, nipples brushing my lips.

"Suck them," she ordered softly, still in control. I drew one into my mouth, tongue flicking while she reached down to guide my dick to her entrance. She sank onto me in one smooth motion, her tight pussy stretching around my thickness. The wet sound of her taking every inch filled the room.

"Oh fuck... you're so deep," Lisa breathed, eyes half-lidded. She started riding me with unhurried rolls of her hips, her stockings rasping against my sides. I gripped her waist, thumbs stroking the soft skin where her bra had left faint lines. Every descent made her tits bounce, and I couldn't stop touching them—squeezing, licking, watching her face flush with pleasure.

We switched after her first shuddering orgasm—her walls clenching so hard around my cock I almost lost it. I laid her on her back, hooking her stockinged legs over my shoulders so I could drive into her slower, deeper. The bed creaked softly. Her hands clutched my back, nails digging in as I ground against her clit with every thrust.

"Right there... don't you dare speed up," she panted, voice breaking into a moan. "I want to feel every inch stretching my pussy."

Sweat slicked our skin. Her scent—perfume mixed with raw sex—filled my head. I kissed her neck, whispering how I'd jerked off to memories of her for years, how her cunt felt even better than I'd dreamed. She came again, back arching, a low cry escaping as her juices coated my balls.

I was close, hips moving in long, deliberate strokes that made her tits jiggle with each impact. Just as the pressure built to breaking, she gripped my face and locked eyes with me.

"Cum inside me, Mark. Fill me up... then we'll order room service and do this all over again."

The promise in her words pushed me over. I buried myself to the hilt, groaning as my cock pulsed, pumping thick ropes of cum deep into her spasming pussy. We stayed locked together, breathing hard, her fingers lazily tracing my jaw.

She smiled that flirtatious smile again, voice husky with satisfaction.

"Conference doesn't end till Friday. Think we can keep finding excuses to 'catch up'?"