EroticReverie

Madeline McAdams

I wake up , with what might be , the worst hangover I've ever had, in my entire life. I groan and roll over, and my groggy disposition, my eagerness to just roll over and go back to bed and avoid the sun shining through the floor to ceiling window of my hotel room is instantly shot to hell when I almost scream when I find a male body asleep next to me, their back to me. 

Immediately small pieces of last night play back in my head. 

"No." I whisper. "No. no . no." I shake my head, knowing the back of that head all to well. 

"Son of a-" I mutter and clap a hand over my mouth and let out a little squeak. 

I play last night back again, more and more of the pieces becoming clear through the fog of my hangover. 

"Fuck." I mutter. Drinks. Lots of drinks. A truce was made between me and the man next to me. My fucking arch enemy. After that truce, more drinks were had. Gambling. Lots of gambling. Making out in the elevator. God. Making out in the hall. In this room. In this bed. Clothes off. Sex. Dirty. Filthy, drunken sex.  The soreness between my legs left no fucking question about that. I look around the bed, on the floors, the night stand. Not a single condom wrapper in sight.

"Son of a bitch" I hiss and then sit up and turn and get out of bed and run to the bathroom, kneel before the toilet and hold my head over it as I heave up last nights alcohol as well as the last of my fucking dignity. 

I slept with Scott Sullivan. On a fucking work trip. 

"Oh god" I groan into the toilet. Once I'm done heaving, I rinse out my mouth and then stand in the middle of the room and just look at him in the bed, onhis stomach, his long arm stretched out and hanging off the bed, along with his long ass leg hanging off and the covers draped just over his fucking ass enough to cover himself. 

I clap my hands to my face and shake my head. 

"I can not believe you did this." I reprimand myself. 

I couldnt just sneak out and pray that he didnt remember anything. He was in MY hotel room. Did I lay back in bed, pretend to be asleep and pray that HE would leave and pretend this never happened?

I shake my head. I needed a shower. I needed to clear all the hang over fog, and have a long talk with myself about the powers of alcohol and my terrible, terribly ability to make decisions when inhebriated. 

I walk to my suitcase, grab a shirt and sleep shorts. Run and lock myself in the bathroom and shower myself and pray, just fucking pray to god that when I'm done , that he is gone, and he has fallen off the face of the earth and I never have to look at Scott Sullivan or work with him ever again. 

We were both competing for the same promotion. Both were sent to work together, to attempt to snag an upcoming MMA fighter, to be his management, because word was out that he was looking to get rid of his current management. We'd made the deal alright. So fucking proud of ourselves, that we got shit faced, and called a truce to our bickering and back and forth and hating one another. And apparently, this decision, when paired with booze, called for impromtu bedroom romps, and being bent like a a pretzel all night while your cocky, smug as fuck, annoying, pain in the ass co worker, dicked you down like his cock was in a legit "fucking marathon". Proof of that, was the fucking aching between your legs that he left there. Jesus christ. and without a condom?!  

I needed to get tested. Who know what sleezy women Scott had been with. 

Once I'm out of the shower, I dry off, throw on the sleep set that I didnt use at all last night, take a deep breath and open the door of the bathroom, and exhale a sigh of relief when I see he's fucking gone. 

I don't text him or call him or warn him about our flight and that he needs to get ready to leave for the airport by noon. I figure if he goes back to his room, takes a nap and misses the flight, even better.

No such luck though, after getting dressed in a professional cap sleeved, square necked white dress, that fits tighty, and goes to just a few inches above my knees, with a thin black belt, and my black heel, my hair done up in a professional bun, light makeup...and walking out of my hotel room door. I almost have to run back into my bathroom to throw up again as Scott opens his door across the hall at the exact same time. 

His eyes goes down my body, then back up once. He doesn't say anything, doesnt even give any kind of look that would let me know what the hell he was thinking. 

I make disgruntled noise, grab the handle of my suitcase.

"Want me to get th-"

"I got it" I snap and let my hotel room door shut behind me as I sling my carryon over my shoulder along with my purse and cart my small suitcase behind me.

He just clears his throat and follows me to the elevator.

The whole way down. Not a word. In the car to the airport. Not a word. We avoid conversation right up until we're sitting next to each other and first class and the plane is ascending. 

-----

Scott Sullivan

I fucked Madeline McAdams. That's the first thought I have when I wake up. The second is. I fucked Madeline McAdams. The third. The fourth. Every thought I have when I wake up, is I was inside that insanely hot little spit fire pain in the ass, all damn night. I grinned when I replayed how fucking slammin her body looked, and how she fucked like a little porn star. I knew it. I always knew she was a little freak. However, this was , very, very, messy. While I was very proud of myself for scoring myself a good time with Madeline, screwing the woman you were up against for promotion, wasn't a good idea. Especially, when she hated your guts. So I'd bailed , deciding maybe we should just ignore this little mistake. Because what happens in Vegas...stays in Vegas. However, the second I walked out my hotel room and saw her, my dick was begging me to let her take it for a ride again. I almost laughed at the audible sound of disgust and the way she snapped when I went to offer to carry her suitcase and bag.  It was clear Madeline McAdam, was not too happy with what happened between us. 

I should just let us both pretend nothing happened. But no, I enjoyed watching her suffer far, far too much.

"I'm already a member, but if you want to join the mile high club I'm more than willing to repeat some of last nights fesitivities for you in the rest room." I whisper and watch her visibly shift, and I turn my head and watch the way her jaw works as she clenches it and ignores me. 

I lean over and whisper. " I said..Im already a mem-"

"I fucking heard you." she whisper yells and still doesnt look at me. I smile to myself. 

"So, is that a yes?" I whisper, this draws her eyes to mine. She had the sexiest eyes I'd ever fuckin seen on a woman. They were such a light blue, they were silver almost. Again her olive skin, and dark brown hair, and through those dark long lashes, they were absolutely stunning, and hardened my fucking cock instantly when I remembered the way those eyes looked at me while she fucking rode my shit like a wild woman. 

"I will tell them you told me you have a bomb shoved up your ass and make them handcuff you and cavity search you when we land if you don't shut your fucking mouth." she hisses quietly. 

She looks away and I grin. Because I also remember how those eyes looked when that mouth sucked her cum from my cock before I threw her on her back and pounded her into her fucking hotel mattress. 

"It was bound to happen eventually. The sexual tension you have towards me Madeline....I mean, honestly it borders inappropriate when we're at work, so it's good you got that release before we got back to-"

"will you PLEASE...shut up. Just, shut your mouth." she hisses and those eyes glare at me again. 

"I know it was good for you Maddie....but if cumming seven times wasn't enough, you just let me know and I'll get you for an eighth" I whisper. 

"I swear to god." She mutters. 

"You just let me know if you prefer to cum again on my cock or my tongue...or maybe my fingers this time" I say and she inhales sharply and turns and glares at me. 

"Scott. I'm telling you right now. Last night...did NOT happen. And it never will happen, ever again." she says.

"Hmm...how can it never happen again, if it never happened at all? Is that pretty little head of yours all messed up ? Do you have sex brain Maddie? Do you need me to clear it for you, I can probably fit my hand right up that dress pretty easily if I just..." I go to reach over, and smile to myself when she slaps my hand as expected. 

She turns in her seat and faces me, now, fired up and pissed up, one of my favorite versions of her. I loved, absolutely loved arguing with her, or making her lose her cool with me. She didnt need to know it, but that shit was foreplay for me and my hand  when I'd inevitably have to go to the restrooms at work and jerk off to her savage little stares and witty banter and scathing remarks. 

"God, I want to throw myself off this plane" she mutters. 

"I'd rather you throw yourself on this dick Maddie" I whisper. 

she whips her head again. "Scott!" she whisper yells. "Seriously! Knock it off!" 

"We were drunk, and last night was fucking the worst mistake I've ever fucking made. And I dont want to talk about it, like, ever." she says, not looking at me, crossing her arms and looking away. 

I chew the inside of my cheek as I watch her. I sigh. 

"Fine. You're no fun. In the bedroom, or out." I say. 

she whips her head again.

"Screw you!" she hisses. "I'm FANTASTIC in bed, maybe it's YOU who was lacking!" 

I grin. 

"We both know it wasn't me baby. That little pussy sang my fucking praises and flooded like it was the Hoover Dam bursting wide open" I say and she scoffs and scrunches your nose.

"You wish."  she seethes as crosses her arms. 

I lean over and whisper in hear. 

"I don't need to wish Maddie....I know exactly what it tastes like, and feels like between those pretty little legs of yours." I whisper.

"But I do wish to taste your cum on my mouth again" I tell her.

"and to make that pussy cum on my cock again." 

I reach my hand over, the back of my knuckle grazing her knee on the side and she jerks her legs away from me and I smirk. 

"I want to put my hand up your sexy tight fucking dress, my hand between those warm thighs and my fingers inside of you" I whisper. 

"Scott. Stop it." she hisses in warning. 

"Don't be a tease Madeline, you were begging for it last night." I say teasing her. 

"I can't stand you." She growls. 

"Says the woman who told me she NEEDED me inside of her." I whisper and she shifts in her seat. 

"Are you really doing this?" she asks and turns to me. "Are you really going to make me suffer for one fucking night, for making the worst mistake of my fucking life?" 

"Oh...I definitely am Miss McAdams."