Matched

She smiles and leans down to kiss me once more.

We kiss, and it's so much more meaningful than any kiss I've had in a long time.

Maybe forever.

Once we're dressed and have tidied ourselves up, we do a quick run-through of the presentation and then haul our computers and files into a waiting Uber to take us to the Pentagon. I think the driver doesn’t really believe us when we ask him to take us there, but he does anyway. I think about how we must look to him – two fashionable millennials. Me with hair a bit too long and a bit too much scruff on my jaw, India far too beautiful for some stuffy military facility.

But we're the dynamic duo. Brains and beauty. Ambition and lust all mixed up into a hot beautiful mess.

The presentation goes smoothly – as usual – and if India's orgasms scrambled her brain, it doesn't show.

In the hallway as we're walking out of the facility, escorted by a civilian employee who’s there to make sure we get out safely, I lean over to her.

"Obviously, those two orgasms weren't enough to throw you off your game," I whisper. "That's good to know."

She gives me a horrified look, like the walls might have ears and learn that we're fucking and not award us the contract. I laugh at the expression on her face.

"Jon," she whispers back. "Don't talk like that in here."

"Why not? Don't you want to give the eavesdroppers working in those small dark rooms somewhere in the bowels of the Pentagon something spicy for a change?"

I wag my eyebrows at her, amused by her expression.

"You're incorrigible."

"I am," I say. "You already knew that."

She tries to hold back a smile but fails. "I did."

We bump shoulders together as we walk down the long hallway behind our escort. We say goodbye and haul our stuff into the trunk of a vehicle waiting to take us back to the hotel.

"I'm ready for more to eat," I say, eyeing her suggestively. "That little tidbit I ate this morning wasn't nearly enough."

"Jon," she says, her eyes wide.

"Feel like a nice thick sausage?"

"Jon!"

She punches me in the arm and I mock-wince. I slip my arm around her shoulder.

"This is going to be so much fun."

"It's not supposed to be fun," she says, and frowns at me.

"What do you mean? Of course, it's supposed to be fun. Otherwise, why do it?"

"No, I mean, it's not a joke."

"What makes you think I'm joking?" Then I lean closer, my mouth at her ear. "I really do want to know if you'd like a nice, hot, thick, juicy sausage, because I have one for you," I whisper, so the driver doesn't hear me. I want to spare India any embarrassment.

Or at least, too much embarrassment.

Some embarrassment has to be expected.

We drive the rest of the way to the hotel without further comment, because I want her to think about sucking my cock the way I've been imagining her doing for years. On her knees at my feet, my hand guiding her.

But that's for later. It's now been five hours since we ate and I'm hungry. I need some protein if I'm going to keep her busy all night long the way I plan.