Cabin Affairs: Revisited

Step 6. Counter Tops

Step 6. Counter Tops

Playlist: “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift

“We’re here,” Eric announces with glee. He practically jumps out of his precious classic car to hand the valet the keys.

I swallow my hesitation at stepping out of the car. Eric opens the door to take my hand as Matthew spots me from behind.

Thanks to my guardian angel, I can stand without incident. Although, I don’t know how I’d walk without Eric’s arm to hold onto. He won’t wrap a hand around my waist tonight, as he must appear to just be my best friend. Yet, he knows what these balls inside of me are doing. Teasing and massaging my inner walls with every step. My lover always wants to play, but safely.

We make the rounds of reception at our arrival, but Matthew is staying close as well. Thank goodness my dress is dark. Or else stains of my arousal might start showing. I can feel nothing but damp growing between my legs. This is going to be a very long night.

“You look lovely as always, Mrs. Anderson.”

“You must tell me where you got that dress, Jenny Lynn.”

“How are the kids? What school are they at again?”

“Mrs. Anderson, you are simply radiant tonight. Whatever gives you that glow?”

And even one apparently over-indulged man, undressed me with his eyes before saying to my husband with whiskey-madden breath, “Well, Matt. You win.”

Perhaps it was fortunate after all that Eric had to hold me up. I’d hate to see what would’ve happened to Mr. Drunkard if Eric were able to let go of me.

We shake so many hands in greeting when we arrive that I don’t know how much longer I can stand to walk around and make small talk. I give Matthew a look of pleading, and he finally asks Eric to help me find our seats while he finishes mingling.

I deposit myself unceremoniously into my chair as soon as possible. Discretion is of the utmost importance tonight among Matthew’s partners and clients, but my p***y is throbbing. I squirm and continuously cross my legs beneath the safety of the table. Still, I make it through dinner and cocktails like the good girl to whom Matthew continues to issue praise and whispers into my ear.

I am a third of the way through the evening. I just need to make it through the speeches from the charity organizers and the silent auction. We’ve already written a check, so I’m not concerned about contributing more. Just smile and sit. Just smile and sit. Then, we can head home, and I can get the full satisfaction I am owed.

These boys better f*****g hydrate.

My men come back from the open bar with my glass of champagne just as I’m calculating how many minutes I have left in this excruciating state of arousal. I get two sips into my flute before I notice the shared grin of my wicked miscreants.

“Would you like to dance, J?” Eric asks, extending his hand in a bow to me.

I blush, immediately flustered by the notion of standing up and letting the weight of the balls shift further. Dancing feels nearly impossible. I shake my head, “No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on. It’s a slow one,” he presses.

Matthew is right behind me, already pulling out my chair. The two are clearly in cahoots. “I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone. You deserve this, baby. I insist.”

My dom wants to watch me dance. There’s no denying both of them. If I could,would we even be attending this Gala as a threesome in the first place?

Damn them both!

Once we make our way to the dance floor, Eric does his best to lead me. I feel a hundred eyes on me, yet in his arms I am always safe and protected. The band finishes The Way You Look Tonight, then strikes up another slow ballad to my genuine relief. This current tempo is all I can handle, seeing as I am not the only thing swaying right now. Eric’s firm grip at the small of my back pushes me even closer to him. My head falls to his chest as I’m losing my decorum. Need is swelling inside me that I feel practically faint. I hum my desire as I breathe in his cologne.

“Dancing was the best reason I had to hold you against me. God, you look amazing tonight. I’m not sure I can wait until we get home to have you, J.”

His low, raspy voice in my ear is a new level of torture. He traces his thumbnail from the bottom of my tail bone to my neck and slowly back down again. Even through the satin fabric, I feel it scrape along my spine. Those inches are the length of my walk to the electric chair. I’m gone. My knees buckle at his touch. Eric is the only reason I don’t go down right then and there on the dance floor.

Eric chuckles, holding me almost like a rag doll in his arms. “I think you’ve had enough, beautiful. Why don’t you head to the ladies room? Matthew said there’s one on the floor above us that might be more private when you needed it.”

I look up at him. Permission to remove these balls may not be everything I need right now, but it’s a start. “Thank you, E.”

Somehow I make the journey about fifty yards away to the upstairs public restroom. I follow Eric’s suggestion since I do not need an audience to my state right now. I grabbed my purse on the way so I can store these kegel balls and adjust my makeup. I’m sure I won’t be missed for a few minutes, and I plan to take my time during the impending speeches.

However, the plans of my men seem to trump my plans tonight. When I exit the stall from removing the toy, I see Eric. My lover is leaning against the sink counter across from me, undoing his jacket buttons.

“Fancy meeting you here, beautiful,” Eric says as he slips off and lays his tux jacket on the counter. Once again he is the hunter and I am his prey. Eric saunters toward me with confidence.

I glance around nervously. There are only four stalls in this restroom, but again I am in luck. None of them seem to be occupied. Coincidence?

“Don’t be nervous. We’re alone, and Matthew is outside the door,” Eric assures me. He brushes the hair out of my eyes, then lifts my chin up to kiss him lightly. “I’ve got you.”

Yes. Yes, he does.

It takes less than thirty seconds before the man has me lifted onto the counter top. He hikes my dress up, enabling me to straddle my legs over his shoulders. The slit threatens to rip in his haste. He doesn’t even remove my panties. Like Matthew did earlier, he simply tugs them to the side out of his way.

Eric blows cool air onto my soaked, aching lower lips. I scream out in ecstasy. Such slight pressure will tip me over the edge. My lover knows my body well enough to know this, so he stops.

“No! Please, E. Touch me. Kiss me. Lick me. f**k me. Anything! I need you. I need you so badly,” I beg.

Eric brushes the tip of his nose against my inner thigh, and like a greedy w***e, I open up even further to him. “I kind of like you like this, J. It reminds me of one of our nights in the cabin together. Remember when I teased you, wondering how long you could hold out? Making you wait for it over and over again. That turned out to be a pretty good night.”

“You two already made me wait. No more. Please… no more.”

“Wow. That’s not what you usually say,” he jokes. I can’t believe he’s making jokes right now.

“Eric…” I whine.

Screw it! My hand reaches down to my exposed p***y. If Eric won’t help me, then I’ll save myself.

Before I reach my c**t, he grabs my wrist in his massive hand. “No, no. There’ll be none of that. If there’s something our girl needs, then we will provide it and no one else.”

“Please, E,” I beg one more time. My eyes shut tight, focused on any feeling that will bring an end to this. My hips rolling towards him, taking on a mind of their own, beg him more than my voice ever could.

“I’ve always got you, beautiful.”

Two flicks of his tongue on my swollen s*x and I come undone. The hand of mine that he releases makes it’s way to his hair, holding his head down for more pressure between my legs. My whole body is shuddering. My sputterings and prayers aren’t even this grateful on Thanksgiving.

“Thank you, E,” I mumble, slumping onto the cool marble of the counter.

His grip on my ass tightens, rather than releases me. “You want to thank me, then scream louder this time. I want Matthew to know what a better job I do at making you c*m hard.”

He dives back into me with such vigor that I don’t remember anything besides euphoric happiness and Eric cleaning me up afterward.

"Thanks again," I murmur when he helps me off the counter top.

Eric’s playful sense of humor is back. “You should hold off all your thank yous until the end of the night. I’m not done with you yet. But I’ve got a few potential clients to schmooze before this thing is over, and an auction to win. I believe Mattey-boy is waiting for you outside, too.”