Exhibition fucking

The convention center was a maze of chrome and carpet, thousands of square meters of competing companies all shouting for attention. Our booth was positioned near the back—premium real estate, Annabelle had negotiated it herself—and by mid-afternoon, the foot traffic had slowed to a trickle of stragglers and competitors stealing glances at our product displays.

Annabelle had been a vision of professional perfection all morning. Navy business suit, skirt hitting just above the knee, white blouse straining against those F-cup breasts with every breath. She'd commanded the space like she always did—shaking hands, collecting business cards, her voice crisp and authoritative as she explained our quarterly projections to potential clients.

But I could see the hunger in her eyes every time she looked at me.

It started with small things—a brush of her hand against my ass as she squeezed past me in the narrow booth space, a whispered "good job" that somehow sounded filthy, the way she kept adjusting her skirt, hiking it a fraction higher each time until I could see the lace tops of her stockings when she bent to retrieve a brochure.

By three o'clock, the neighboring booths had emptied for coffee breaks. The aisle was quiet. She turned to me with those dark, demanding eyes and said, "Lock the front panel."

"Annabelle—"

"Now."

I flipped the sign to CLOSED and drew the retractable banner across the front of our space, creating a narrow corridor between our display and the back counter. When I turned around, she was already bent over the counter, her hands braced against the polished surface, her skirt hiked up around her waist.

No panties. Just her bare, shaved cunt glistening in the fluorescent light, her arousal already coating her inner thighs.

"Don't make me wait," she said, looking at me over her shoulder. Her brown hair had fallen across her face, her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted. "Fuck my cunt. Now."

I was on her in three strides. My hands found her slender waist, gripping hard enough to leave marks, and I lifted her slightly, angling her hips to the perfect height. My cock was already out—I'd been hard since lunch, watching her work the room—and I pressed the head against her wet folds.

"Look at you," I growled. "Dripping for me already."

"Shut up and fuck me."

I rammed inside her.

She cried out, her back arching, her fingers white-knuckling the counter edge. She was tight—impossibly tight, as always—her inner sleeve clamping down around me the moment I entered, her muscles rippling along my length as I bottomed out against her cervix.

"Fuck," she hissed. "Yes—right there—"

I didn't give her time to adjust. I pulled back and drove in again, hard enough to make her big tits bounce against the counter and shake the display stands. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, her stockings rasping against my trousers, her bare ass slapping against my hips with each brutal thrust.

I grabbed her waist tighter, my fingers digging into her soft flesh, and used the grip to pull her back onto my cock as I thrust forward. The angle was perfect—each stroke dragged my shaft against her G-spot, making her moan and push back against me, desperate for more.

"Harder," she panted. "Fuck me harder—make me scream—"

I obliged. I pounded into her with deep, upward thrusts that made her rise onto her toes, her body pinned between my driving hips and the unyielding counter. Her cunt was making obscene sounds—wet, squelching noises as I rammed into her soaked pussy, her juices coating my balls, dripping down her thighs.

She was close already—I could feel it in the way her inner walls fluttered around me, the way her breathing turned to ragged gasps, the way she pushed back to meet each thrust with desperate urgency.

"Don't stop," she whimpered. "Don't you dare fucking stop—"

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream that turned into a wailing cry as her pussy clamped down on me in violent contractions. Her whole body shuddered, her knees buckling, and I had to grip her waist tighter to hold her up as I kept fucking her through it—short, brutal thrusts that kept her climax rolling, wave after wave.

"Oh god, oh god, oh—"

That's when I saw him.

A Japanese businessman—late fifties, expensive suit, silver at his temples—had stopped in the aisle, his eyes wide behind his glasses, his mouth slightly open. He'd been walking past, probably heading to the restrooms, and had frozen at the sight of Annabelle bent over the counter, her skirt up, her cunt being plowed from behind.

For a moment, none of us moved. I was buried to the hilt inside her, feeling her pussy still spasming around me, and this stranger was staring at us with shock that slowly transformed into something else—awe, arousal, disbelief.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Annabelle saw him too. She looked over her shoulder, her face flushed with orgasm, her hair wild, and she didn't scream or panic. She smiled—a wicked, filthy smile—and pushed back against me, grinding her hips in a slow circle that made me groan.

"Let him watch," she breathed. "Let him see what you do to me."

The businessman raised his phone. The shutter sound was audible in the quiet convention hall.

I didn't stop. I started fucking her again—slow, deep thrusts designed to be seen, designed to display her body, her submission, her hunger. Each stroke made her big tits sway, her nipples hard and visible through her thin blouse, her ass rippling with each impact.

"Tell him," she gasped. "Tell him what you're doing to me."

"I'm fucking my bosses´ tight cunt," I growled, loud enough for him to hear. "I'm filling this hungry pussy with my cum while he watches."

She moaned, her head dropping forward, her body tensing. "Yes—yes—pump me full—give it to me—"

I couldn't hold back anymore. Her words, the stranger's eyes on us, the pictures he was taking—it all pushed me over the edge. I buried myself to the root and erupted, my cock swelling and jerking as I shot thick ropes of cum deep into her clenching pussy.

"Fuck! "I shouted, my hips jerking uncontrollably as I emptied myself inside her.

She felt it—the hot flood of my seed filling her, coating her walls, marking her as mine. And it triggered something in her. Her second orgasm crashed through her even harder than the first, her pussy clamping down on my spurting cock in rhythmic, milking contractions that seemed designed to drain every drop from my balls.

"YES!" she screamed—my name, loud and clear, echoing through the convention center, loud enough for three aisles to hear. YES! FILL ME! OH GOD—"

Her voice broke into wordless cries as she came, her body convulsing, her cunt milking me relentlessly. I kept pumping—short, jerky thrusts that forced more cum from my spent cock, that kept her climax rolling as she felt every pulse of my release inside her.

The businessman lowered his phone, his face flushed, and walked away quickly, disappearing around the corner.

I collapsed forward, pinning Annabelle against the counter, both of us gasping, sweating, and trembling. My cock was still inside her, softening but still twitching with aftershocks, her pussy still fluttering around me, squeezing out the last drops of my cum.

"Well," she finally said, her voice hoarse but carrying that familiar authoritative edge. "I think we made an impression."

She squeezed me internally one last time, making me gasp, then slowly straightened up. I watched, transfixed, as my cum began to leak from her swollen, well-used pussy, running down her inner thighs to stain her stockings.

"Five minutes," she said, wiping herself clean with tissues from her purse and adjusting her skirt with practiced efficiency. "Then open the booth. And wipe that satisfied smirk off your face, Sales Manager. We have clients to impress." She said, smiling at me.

She walked to the back of the booth to fix her hair, moving with only a slight wobble in her step, looking as composed as ever—if one didn't notice the flush on her cheeks and the cum slowly leaking down her legs.

I adjusted my trousers and unlocked the front panel, flipping the sign back to OPEN.

This exhibition was going to be very memorable.

To be continued.