flirt with him? God, he wanted her something fierce.
Mercedes smiled, looking up at him from under impossibly long, dark lashes. "I'd be at home, curled up with a bowl of popcorn, watching TV. I'd have on my comfortable flannel pajamas and warm socks, instead of freezing my assets off at a party where other advertising people are trying to prove they aren't boring...and failing."
Ike never realized flannel pajamas and socks could sound so sexy. He could see her now, hair falling around her shoulders, body bare under the pajamas. Sexy kitten in an innocent package, nipples thrust out. She'd crawl over his lap when he sat beside her, then lift her ass in anticipation. Ike wouldn't refuse. He'd peel those bottoms down, dip his fingers into the well of her sopping pussy, and then give her a spanking that would have her groaning with one orgasm after the other.
"Your assets look damn fine to me." He leaned closer, sliding his hand up her thigh.
Mercedes parted her legs, inviting him to wander farther. Ike hoped for thigh-high hose. He found pantyhose instead. His thwarted exploration brought a triumphant smirk to her lips, as if she dared him to rip out the crotch. He wanted to. God, how he wanted to.
"Thank you." She crossed her legs, trapping his hand between her thighs. "I didn't think you'd noticed."
"How could anyone not notice you?" He slid his hand free and down to her calf. A barely perceptible sigh lifted her chest when he pulled her leg onto his lap and slipped her shoe off. Ike swore he heard a tiny moan above the music. Maybe that was wishful thinking.
"Are you going to drape me with praises now?" She pressed her lips together.
"What need is there to state the obvious?" He kneaded her foot slowly, feeling the tension melt beneath his touch. He longed to wedge her sole against his crotch and rub his balls and cock against it until he came all over her toes.
Mercedes swallowed. Her breath increased in pace with his. "Perhaps a girl likes to know she's still got it."
He cupped her leg again, kneading her calf as he had her foot. "A girl might, but not a woman like you. You know you've still got it." And I want it.
"Very perceptive." The sly look in her eyes was back. She pulled her leg from his lap and eased the other into its place.
Ike grinned. "I do notice more than business put before me."
"So...do...I." She flexed her toes into his caress. "I noticed you haven't been drinking tonight."
"Driving." Her big toe popped, indicating he'd relieved a kink, and she sighed.
"Me, too. Well... perhaps one drink when I got here. Mmm... you make me want to stretch like a sun-warmed pussy... cat."
His hand froze as Ike tried to rein in what little control he had. She was going to bring him to his knees, burrowing his head between her thighs for a taste of her pussy, and have him kneeling in a puddle of his own cum.
Mercedes slid her leg off his lap, slowly, tracing her toe across his thigh, over his knee, down his leg, around to his calf before easing into the perch of her high heel-- heels that stretched her calves and made a man ache to have them locked around his waist, nailing their points in his ass.
"I noticed you also haven't danced." She rested her chin on her palm, big brown eyes studying his mouth. Her lips were parted, as if begging for his tongue to slip inside.
Hard to dance with a raging hard-on in one's pants.
"No partner." He dropped his hand to her elbow and curled his fingers around it.
"I'll be your partner. Do you like it fast...or slow?"
Ike laughed. "I should've seen that coming."
Her eyes lit up. "Oh? You like to watch?"
She was killing him, in more ways than one. Laughing, Ike cupped her arms and pulled her to her feet as the DJ finally cut off the karaoke and turned the music on. "You are a naughty one."
"Takes one to know one." She laced her fingers through his. "I definitely need to be taken in hand. Dance with me?"
"Our pleasure." He hoped she got his meaning. When her gaze
Lisa Mantchev, A.L. Purol