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Georgia tempts her brother, he tries to resist.
I tilted my face and leaned down toward her. With the warmth of lust pulsing through me, I wanted her badly, and she knew it. I reached around to put a hand on her cheek, closed my eyes and guided her lips toward mine. Her full warm wet lips pressed against mine. I felt the tickle of her tongue as she tried to pry my mouth open. She was a bad girl, I thought as I opened my mouth and let my tongue wrestle with hers. Needing a deep breath, I put my hands on her shoulders not so much to push her away as to hold her at a distance.
"You know I'm married," I said still out of breath.
"So am I," she replied breathily.
"I barely even know your first name."
"But does it matter when we're here like this?" she said, both of her hands now working on the growing lump in my lap.
"What about your husband? Won't he be missing you?"
"Jim lets me do what I want, as long as I keep off the police blotters and out of the newspaper," she said with a breathy laugh. "He knows who I am and that he can't keep up with my appetite."
"You should know that I've never messed around on my wife."
"Does that really matter?"
"It does to me," I said looking down at my drink. "Not that she hasn't ever given me cause to play around."
"Like what?" she said looking up with this curious intensity that made me want to spill out my guts.
"Well, in the beginning we used to have really great sex. At least I thought so. But especially after the kids came along, it got less and less frequent. She never seemed in the mood. I finally asked her what was wrong and she told me that she never really liked it, and that she'd rather not do it."
"That's never been my problem," Chrissy said bringing a hand up to rub my shoulder.
"It got so bad that she'd just pull her nightshirt up, her panties down, spread her legs, close her eyes, and wait for it to be over. I tried books and movies and counseling, but nothing seemed to work."
"That's too bad," she said sympathetically. "I know how important sex is to men. But I never could use it to get what I want. I just love sharing the pleasure that comes along with it, just surrendering to the feelings and the rush that comes along."
I looked at her again; the long lashes of her big dark eyes seductively batting.
"Do you want to go up to my room?" I finally blurted out, surprised that the words made it to my lips and out.
"I thought you'd never ask," she replied, reaching for her purse.
I threw some bills on the table; we grabbed our drinks and headed out to the elevator. She slipped her arm inside mine, leaning her head onto my shoulder. Maybe it was because we didn't want to be seen by the wrong party, or simply sexual anticipation, but it seemed to take terribly long for the elevator to arrive. The ride up to my floor was the same. We exchanged no words, only loving glances. My room was only a few steps from the elevator bank. Chrissy took a few steps inside and threw out her arms.
"I love this," she remarked loudly, turning back to me. "Your room smells just like a man."
"And that's a good thing, I hope," I said, stepping up to embrace her.
"Oh, yes. A very good thing."
We slipped our arms about each other and embraced with a deep passionate kiss that left me crazy with lust for this beautiful little woman.
"One thing, Jack," she said in a sober voice.
"What we do and say in here must never leave the room. Got it?"
"I never was the type to kiss and tell."
"I'm not talking about kissing, fella," she said with the devilish smile curling her lips again. "Promise?"
"I promise," I said soberly. "Besides, I've got as many reasons as you to make sure that no one ever finds out."
"I know: the little woman, the kids, the partner," she said breaking away from my longing embrace. "Let's do one thing, okay? Let's leave all of that outside the room. My marriage and yours and all that goes with it don't exist while we're together in this room. All right?"
"How easy they forget," she said with a laugh as she sat on the edge of the bed.