During the presentation, Musa did a fine job reading his lines and Opeyemi thought the group’s performance was a success. She gave Oluchi and Musa a high-five and they all sat down at their banquet table for lunch.
Opeyemi continued to steal glances of Musa who never looked once in her direction. ‘Maybe he’s forgotten all about it,’ she thought, feeling a sense of relief followed by a strange feeling of disappointment.
After the luncheon and the keynote speaker, the convention was officially over. Opeyemi made her way to the lounge with two other female executives and sat at a table for a couple of stiff drinks. As she was sipping on her second wine, she couldn’t help but look around for Musa.
Not only was he nowhere in sight, but the place had nearly emptied out. Most company employees were headed to the airport or driving back home that afternoon. Opeyemi’s flight didn’t leave until the following night, so she was able to relax and enjoy her drinks. After her third, she excused herself and went to her room to answer her emails and check-in for her flight the next day. She had in mind to masturbate again as the alcohol had made her very horny.
Pressing the elevator button, she could feel someone’s presence behind her. Without even turning around, she could sense it was Musa. As she entered the elevator, her hunch was proved to be true.
“You didn’t think I would forget about our kiss now, did you?” He asked as he stood closer to her than she felt comfortable with. She noticed he had a full bottle of what looked like whisky in his right hand. A man whom she did not recognize walked past them as Musa stood close, the elevator doors still open. She could feel her pussy become wet thinking what she must look like standing so close to Musa as she was.
Opeyemi exhaled deeply, “No, I was pretty sure you’ll find me sooner or later.” She looked over at the man standing next to her, then down at her feet. She felt uncomfortable. Not that she feared Musa.
He was harmless and not overly aggressive, he could have tried much more yesterday while he was kissing her, she was uncomfortable because there was an excitement that churned deep inside her. A forbidden sort of excitement that she had honestly never felt before.
The door to the elevator opened about the same time that Opeyemi realized that the expectation was that they were headed to her hotel room for the fifteen-minute kiss. They walked down the long hallway toward her room as she thought of how thankful she was she booked a suite and that it had a couch and sitting area with a partial wall separating the bedroom.
“Here’s my room.” Opeyemi looked around to see if anyone could see that she was bringing a man into her hotel room. No one was in the hallway; she was in the clear. The door opened and the two slipped in.
Still wearing her business suit, she told Musa to sit down on the couch while she changed out of her work clothes. She struggled with what to do next. She knew she should just kiss him now and get it over with, but her desire to get comfortable overcame her inner objection to keeping the man in her room for a few minutes longer.
Opeyemi went to the dresser where she had placed her clothes and rifled through the drawers looking for a casual outfit. She found a white, tank-top undershirt, the kind she wore to bed every night and a cotton, above-the-knee skirt she had brought to wear on the flight home. She locked the door of the bathroom behind her.
She changed out of her clothes feeling the effect of the margaritas. ‘A little giddy, but not drunk at least!’ she reassured herself. ‘This will be over in fifteen minutes.’ She took a look at herself in the mirror. Her white T-shirt showed the outrageous curves of her bra-clad breasts but still hid most of her cleavage and concealed her nipples well.
Her navy blue skirt was short, but not too short. She wrapped an elastic band around her hair pulling it into a ponytail and opened the door.
“Are you ready for round two?” Musa was drinking whisky from a hotel glass, sitting nervously at the edge of the burgundy couch.
A glass was poured half-full and sitting in front of the spot where Opeyemi would sit.
“I’m willing to fulfil my part of the bargain, fifteen minutes.” She walked over and sat. She was already buzzed, but given the nature of this meeting, she knew a little more wouldn’t hurt, she reached for the glass and drank half the amount of whisky in three, laboured gulps giving in to a small cough as she put the glass down.
“Damn!” Musa shook his head. You’re going to feel that!” He smiled at the thought of a drunk Opeyemi succumbing to the effects of the alcohol.
Opeyemi turned her body and pressed her lips together tightly in preparation for Musa’s kiss. She had already resolved not to do anything other than sit there.
Musa suddenly stood up and pushed the table away from the couch.
“Here, stand up. I want to kiss you standing.” Musa knew what he was doing. A standing kiss would allow more of his body to come in contact with the beautiful vixen and give him the chance to touch her better.
Opeyemi saw no harm in standing so she stood up. Musa put his hands on her narrow waist and brought her closer to his body. Opeyemi could feel his upper body against her own and did not like the position. She decided to endure it for the time being, so she closed her eyes.
Musa moved his head up and began to kiss Opeyemi’s closed mouth in big, loud smacking kisses. He worked his way over her lips, then chin. He could feel her face was tense. He moved his head away from her and noticed she was wincing. This wasn’t going to produce the results he had hoped for.
“No.” Musa bent over and capped the bottle of whisky he had brought with him. “Forget it, Opeyemi. I just wanted a kiss from a beautiful lady and all I get is some weird shit. Don’t you even know how to kiss?”
The effect of Musa pulling away, and now at the door about to leave should have given the sexy woman cause to celebrate, but the fact was, his refusal to continue caused Opeyemi to feel sorry for the man. She was surprised by his actions. Had she thought about it more soberly, she would have let him leave, but she felt she hadn’t held up to her part of the deal, and the alcohol was making her far more agreeable than usual.
“Wait.” Opeyemi turned toward the black man. “Okay, okay. I’ll do a better job, within reasonable limits, of course.” She stood divided, part of her definitely wanted him to leave, yet part of her wanted him to stay and kiss her for the fifteen minutes as was planned.
“No frowning face?” Musa turned away from the door. Opeyemi was feeling no pain. The whisky was warming her through and through.
“No frowning face.” She looked down. “But also, no tongue.” Opeyemi was pleased she remembered that important rule before the kissing actually started.
“Ok. No tongue.” Musa had no intention to not try. He felt his chances were good that she would kiss him back as she loosened up.
Musa set the bottle down and walked over to the tall woman and resumed his position, his arms on her waist and his lips pointed toward hers. Opeyemi checked her watch to mark the time. His lips parted, and then he kissed her.
The difference was immediately apparent to Musa. Opeyemi’s mouth was warm and wet, her lips, although closed, weren’t contorted or pursed. Musa moved his head about from side to side as his fat lips completely covered the woman’s. His tongue slipped over her mouth, feeling its softness, he could sense the alcohol on her breath which gave her a sexy taste.
His more innocent approach lasted several minutes. It was obvious that Musa was on his very best behaviour. All was well in Opeyemi’s mind, no French kissing, no inappropriate touching. But as the moments passed, she began to want to feel his tongue against hers. She began to think how she would be able to recall the French kissing later when she masturbated.
Opeyemi felt the familiar, relaxed, stimulated feeling that the alcohol gave her. Her facial muscles relaxed. Then her shoulders. She was reminded of the three impossibly intense orgasms she had just thinking about the kiss from yesterday. She could feel the hum of a moan deep within her.
She opened her mouth without thinking much about what she was doing. The long, slick tongue, playfully darting and moving on hers in her mouth felt sensual and she wanted more. It was Musa’s tongue she had in her mouth and she was fully French kissing him as if he were Lekan.
Their tongues swirled and became entangled in a passionate kiss. She felt hot; his breath, his firm hands cradling her heavy breasts over her shirt and bra. Her mind was enjoying this strange experience more than she could have ever guessed.
Their faces were firmly joined, their tongues dancing within their eager mouths. Opeyemi’s breath was becoming heavy, more frantic. She pressed her body closer to the man not thinking about what she was doing.
It was the tug she felt on her bra that brought her out of her trance. Musa had his hands on each breast and was squeezing and kneading them as if he had permission. As soon as the realization came to her, she began to close her mouth.
Musa felt her beginning to resist and pressed his tongue further into her. The weight of her breasts heavy in each hand while still in their bra caused him to crave the feeling of holding them without the encumbrance.
Opeyemi backed away and grabbed his wandering hands, setting them down to his side. She had to shake her head to break the spell this curious man had upon her. She knew she needed to back away before she let him go any further. No other man besides Lekan has touched her breasts since she had been married.
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