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I sat up, slid my oily hand behind her neck and kissed her.
She went up in flames. She grabbed my face and kissed me back like she was drowning, open-mouthed and hungry, moaning into me. She climbed half onto the table, straddling my thigh, grinding down on it through her scrubs. My cock was pressed hard against her belly and she rubbed herself against me like an animal.
I got my hands up under her top. Her skin was hot. I cupped her tits through her bra and she gasped into my mouth and rocked harder on my leg.
“Fuck, fuck, Mark…”
Then her pager went off.
A real pager, clipped to her waistband, buzzing and beeping like an angry insect. She ignored it. It went again.
“Reception,” she panted. “Means my three o’clock’s early.”
“Ignore it.”
“I can’t, she’s eighty-four, she’ll come looking.” She kissed me again, hard, desperate. Then she pulled back and looked at me, her lips swollen, hair coming loose, chest heaving.
“That was the best kiss of my entire life,” she said. “I hate you.”
She climbed off. Straightened her top. My thigh was damp where she’d been grinding, and my cock was throbbing so hard it hurt.
“Same time next week?” I croaked.
She paused at the door, flushed scarlet, a wild smile on her face.
“Don’t you fucking dare book anyone else,” she said, and left me there, hard as stone.
Ending 12 of 16: Just a Kiss. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.