No one was listening to us, caught up in other more interesting affairs.
“Why?” It was one word, but she said it at the same time as pressing her fingers into my thigh. “You’re in New York, all you have to do tomorrow is enjoy yourself and recover from this food. The world’s your oyster right now.”
“My world’s at home in Oxford, running wild. I feel guilty. I want to go home to them, but I don’t want to leave you.” There it was. I’d said it, kind of.
“Oh.” She frowned but she didn’t take her hand away.
My world shrunk at that point; it could be as big as I wanted, endless opportunities, but the only ones I wanted were her and my kids to be settled and happy.
I didn’t know how I could have both or even if she could be part of it.
“I don’t want you to go either. Not before you make a cast of your penis.”
“Which isn’t going to happen.” I wasn’t sure how serious she was about this. I thought I’d caught her taking measurements yesterday morning.
“Then you can’t go home.” She shook her head. “You’ve ruined me for any other penis.”
“My life’s work is complete.” Maybe it was just about the sex for her. Maybe I should just be making the most of that for the next few days.
Marie laughed, causing her dad to look over at us. I stiffened, not wanting to give anything away, for her sake as well as my balls if he worked it out.
“I have been working out how I could make a cast of it.”
Her words were too loud, her dad now definitely interested.
“Cast of what, Marie?” Joseph leaned over the table towards us. “What mad idea are you coming up with now?”
“A whisky bottle we saw in a bar the other night. We’re talking about that distillery.” It was only confidence that made her sound convincing, but I was impressed with the speed of her response.
Joseph stared at her for an extra second. “Sounds intriguing. Which bar was it?”
She explained where it was then swiftly moved the subject on to the distillery which seemed to be becoming more of a plan than an idea. All the while, her hand creeped up my leg, fingers pressing into my skin giving me a taste of glorious torture.
Her dad carried on talking, asking me about London and where I took clients. His daughter carried on her devious ministrations, her fingers becoming perilously close to where my cock was becoming increasingly hard.
Finally, eventually, one of the other Green partners took his attention and Marie leaned over to me, turning her head to conceal her words.
“There’s a bathroom on this floor. Go in there and I’ll knock on the door in a few minutes. I’ll tap three times so you know it’s me.” She pulled back her hand and I breathed a little easier.
“This is risky.”
“I know. But why not?” Her eyes were full of mischief.
“They’ll wonder where we both are.”
“They won’t even notice. Your dad’s just ordered more champagne – I think they’re trying to out champagne each other. They won’t realise the kids are gone.” The mischief was replaced with sheer innocence.
The thought of leaving the table, even though most people were up on their feet now and mingling through the private room where we’d been seated, felt wrong, as if I was about to shy away from work.
I had an idea – a hope – of what Marie had planned and it wasn’t something I’d done before. Risky. I didn’t always take risks that I hadn’t completely mitigated for.
But there was no way my cock was going to deflate any time soon.
I looked through the open door to the corridor down which was the bathroom. It was hidden away, the main bathrooms on the next floor. We were unlikely to be disturbed.
Even so.
“It’s risky.”
