The London Meeting
Posted 10 December 2005
The following pictures were all captured from a video taken by my husband on Thursday as I dressed for the business presentation I was due to make in London that day.
Awesome. Just an awesome day.
Over the last few weeks I'd anticipated the London meeting so many times in my head that once I started dressing on Thursday morning I had a weird sense of déjà vu. Everything felt so familiar. Getting out of bed, waking Martin, showering, dressing in front of the video camera. I'd already lived it a hundred times.
I was extremely nervous, completely lacking my usual self-confidence. All week I'd been trying to dampen my expectations, mentally coming up with a thousand and one scenarios in which I crashed and burned, with all my hopes shattered by the realisation that Matt either wasn't interested in me or didn't want to get involved. It doesn't matter, I kept telling myself, there are plenty of other men out there.
But of course it did matter, and deep down I knew that I would take rejection very hard. Martin was supportive, but not overly so, which was hardly surprising. He told me I looked irresistibly sexy, but I know that inwardly he was experiencing turmoil. All that day he would have been playing with himself as he pictured me walking around in my pinstripe skirt and leather boots, but at the same time he would have been deeply troubled by the prospect of me being so close to the man I dream of having. I wonder how many times and in how many different ways Matt screwed me that day in Martin's mind.
Originally we were going to drive into London but Matt had come up with a few issues that needed some last minute adjustment, so we caught a train instead. Martin drove me to the station and I met my colleagues on the platform. It was quite cold, made more so by a fresh wind, and I had wisely put a fairly long coat on. Uncharacteristically I wasn't annoyed at having to wrap up. Normally I would have wanted to enjoy the experience of walking down the platform in my sexy clothes, seeing various businessmen ogling me. That day however I was actually quite glad that I was not showing too much before we got to the meeting. Don't ask me why I suddenly became so coy because I have no idea.
When we arrived at the hotel we first of all found the meeting room we had hired to make our presentation, and it was only then that I finally took off my coat and revealed what I was wearing underneath. Again, I was nervous and I felt strangely shy. For a while I even regretted not wearing a full bra, and the nipple rings were working too well - when Richard caught sight of my breasts it looked as if his eyes would pop out. For the rest of the day I found him staring at my blouse without realising, and then he would snap out of it, his face reddening as it dawned on him how obvious it must have been.
It wasn't Richard I was bothered about though, or what Sarah thought either. Only one person mattered as far as I was concerned and it was his reaction that I was waiting for. I was so worried about what he would think. I had taken a big risk by wearing a skirt that wasn't completely fashionable for London this year and I had compounded that risk by wearing seamed stockings. Combined with the prominent nipples, I feared that Matt would think I had gone too far.
When he saw what I had on his eyes widened and he looked as if he was about to say something, but he stopped short. He's infuriatingly good at hiding his emotions and inner thoughts. Although this all adds to the attraction, sometimes I wish he was just that little bit more transparent. I was left none the wiser as to what he thought about me, and frankly I think I could have worn a bin liner and his expression would have been much the same. I felt like walking up to him and saying: "Well, what do you think?"
I was left in this state of insecurity until the prospective clients arrived, at which point my mind had to turn to business. There was a lot to think about in those first few minutes of introduction and almost immediately I became more my usual professional self. And as the familiar leering looks came my way from our guests, I also became more my usual cock-teasing self too. By the time we sat down for Matt to do the main presentation I was enjoying crossing my legs in the sexiest way possible, very aware that one of the visitors in particular couldn't get enough of me.
I won't bore you with any more about the business side of the meeting - we won't know for a couple of weeks whether we've won the contract, but I do know that things went very well. Matt was hugely impressive as always, and I was very proud of the package that my junior colleagues and I had put together. I'll be more than disappointed if we don't get the business.
There was a break for lunch, after which we planned on having a short follow-up meeting to answer any points that the other side might want more clarification on. After we ate we had half-an-hour or so to kill, so Matt and I went and sat in the lounge bar and had a drink. Understandably, Sarah and Richard wandered off for a while - they'd no doubt had enough of being guarded in what they were saying in front of Matt, and even in front of me.
This was the first time Matt and I had been alone together that day and at last I found my stride. I'd had a glass and a half of wine, but I don't think it was this that bolstered my confidence. More likely it was the attention, not only from Richard and the visitors but also from a group of businessmen who were drinking nearby as we sat in the bar. They made it very obvious what they thought of me, and this is exactly the sort of playful scrutiny that I can never get enough of. I didn't acknowledge their suggestive comments, but I did make sure that I sat as provocatively as possible.
When one particularly loud and obvious comment was made, Matt stopped talking in mid-sentence and looked at me once again with that mixture of mirth and desire in his eyes.
"Don't you ever get tired of all the attention?" he asked.
"Never," I said, and we both laughed.
Then Matt's face became a little more serious.
"You look stunning today, Maria. Did you see P-------? He couldn't take his eyes off you. Never mind the presentation, that might just be enough to win this business if he thinks you'll be handling the account. Though I'm not sure I'd want you left alone with him dressed as you are right now!"
Whether Matt had meant to say what he did or whether he innocently made the remark without realising its significance, the implications hit me like a freight train. Jesus, he's being possessive. He's acting like I belong to him.
I couldn't waste the opportunity. I had to go for it.
"How about you, Matt? Would you like to be left alone with me dressed as I am right now?"
How I managed to say it completely flatly, without rushing and without any tremble in my voice, is still a mystery to me. It was possibly the best delivery I've ever made.
For once Matt was caught completely off guard. It was so out of the blue - it was like he'd been smacked between the eyes.
"I, er... What?"
But I said nothing, and he paused as if he was recalling the words I had spoken to make sure he had heard them correctly. When he spoke again he had regained control:
"Maria, you're probably the most attractive woman I've ever met. You're not only good looking but you're incredibly sexy, and you know it - which makes you even sexier still. But you're sitting there with a wedding ring on, and believe me, if that wasn't there I would have been chasing after you months ago. I don't know what the situation is with you and Martin, but I've had enough complications in my personal life recently to last a lifetime. You know what I'm saying."
I had one of those déjà vu moments again when he said this. I just knew he was going to say something along those lines, and I was prepared for it.
"Yes, I know what you're saying," I said, "and I don't think I'd make your life complicated, but I understand how you feel. Matt, you're probably the most attractive man I've ever met. It's just a great shame when the two of us feel like this that we can't make more of it. I'm far freer than you might imagine. Martin and I haven't, erm, you know, been together for more than three years. We even sleep in separate rooms."
He gave a look of amazement. "You're kidding..."
I gave him a deadly serious look, but I felt a twinge of guilt about what I'd just said. Don't lie too much, Maria, you'll dig yourself a hole that you'll never crawl out of. Just be economical with the truth for now.
"No, I'm not, but it's complex, too complex to explain here. Martin and I still love each other but he and I have different needs. He actually helped me get dressed today. He even polished my boots. He did all that knowing that I was dressing to impress you."
It was probably the comment about the boots that did it, but the perceptiveness of Matt's next remark staggered me.
"He gets off on the thought of you with another guy. Is that it? Either that or he's gay."
No turning back now.
"Yes, he gets off on that thought. And so do I. But just to be absolutely clear, so far it's only been a thought."
He laughed then. "And you said it wouldn't be complicated? Sheesh!"
I lowered my head and laughed too. He was right, but I wasn't going to let go.
"Look, how about you take me out for that meal next week. We'll talk about it, and you'll learn a lot more about me. At the end of the evening we'll see what happens. No commitments. If you're too uncomfortable, you give me a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye and we never discuss this again."
He mulled this over for a moment. I know what he was thinking. He knew he should walk away from this, it was definitely too complicated, but at the same time he had me sitting there in fuck-me boots with my nipples now uncontrollably erect as the excitement of the moment got to me. It wasn't either of these he was looking at though, nor was he looking into my eyes. No, his eyes were fixed on my mouth.
You want your cock in there don't you, my baby? That's what you're thinking. You're as close as that. All you have to do is say 'yes' and you can have your prick inside that warm, accommodating mouth. That's it, keeping thinking about it. That's a good boy...
"Okay, let's do that. Next week."
I managed to stay calm, although inwardly I wanted to scream out "YES!". It was a fantastic moment.
I realise in retrospect that I took a huge risk in broaching the subject the way I did. It was reckless really, but now I've removed a great deal of unnecessary beating about the bush. I'm going out with Matt next Friday and believe me, I'll be counting down the hours all week. Nevertheless, I'm having moments where I can feel myself getting cold feet. It keeps hitting me that all the dreams, the fantasies, may soon be real.
I'm going to have sex with another man. I'm going to suck his prick. He's going to have his cock in my vagina and when he finally ejaculates inside me, my husband will have to live with the fact that he is a cuckold; an inadequate man with an inadequate penis whose wife prefers to be the sex toy of someone else.
Matt is going to do things to me that Martin has never done.
And Martin will be made to watch.
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