After Hours in Nashville
A story about a work trip between two consultants that will turn you on
Daniel and Miranda work together at one of the three big consulting firms. He is a director — confident, polished, and used to commanding a room. She is a junior consultant — brilliant in her own right but often overlooked because of her lower title. She is also strikingly beautiful: curvy in all the right places, with soft dark hair and a warm smile.
They are part of the same project team, and this week the case has taken them to Nashville. Because they booked their travel late, the firm places them in the same hotel, separate from the rest of the team.
After a long, draining day at the client site, Miranda is exhausted and hungry. She’s still in the fitted red dress she wore all day — professional enough for meetings but with a milk maid neckline that perfectly frames her soft, but very full chest, drawing every eye in the room. The fabric clings to her curves, accentuating the full swell of her chest as she slips onto a stool at the hotel bar. Her ample cleavage is impossible to ignore as she scrolls her phone, occasionally leaning forward to pick at her salad or take a sip of wine, the movement only emphasizing her voluptuous figure. The soft light of the bar catches on her skin, making her glow in a way that feels almost magnetic.
A tall and handsome man at the bar notices her. He tries to strike up a conversation, buying her another glass of wine. But he’s sloppy, already drunk, and loud. His charm quickly turns to pushiness, and Miranda is visibly uncomfortable as he leans in closer than she wants.
Daniel walks into the hotel lobby just as the man is getting louder. He spots Miranda immediately — she’s hard to miss in that red dress. Reading the situation, he crosses to the bar and sits beside her. Miranda turns quickly toward him with relief, saying, “Thank goodness you’re here! This guy is getting touchy.”
Daniel diffuses the situation with ease. He jokes about being starving and how absurd it is that the client didn’t provide any meals. Then he turns to her with a smile and asks if she would like to join him for dinner. Miranda agrees, grateful for his timing.
Now at a table in the same bar, they split a bottle of wine. She has only one glass, while Daniel downs the other three. Their conversation is witty, smart, and fun, even a little playful, but there’s this heat simmering under every word. He keeps leaning in closer, his eyes dropping to her lips when she laughs, and she catches him doing it, her cheeks flushing as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She lets her hand brush his when she reaches for her glass, and he doesn’t pull away. It’s like they’re both dancing around it, this thing between them—her heart racing every time he smiles, him stealing glances at the way the red dress hugs her chest. It’s just a matter of who’s going to make the first move.
When Miranda excuses herself to the bathroom, Daniel can’t help but watch her walk away. Her curves catch the attention of other men too. Daniel feels a surge of jealousy, realizing he doesn’t just admire her beauty; he wants her for himself.
Meanwhile, Miranda looks in the mirror and feels the warmth of wine and something else: arousal. Daniel is tall, handsome, and brilliant, exactly the mix that makes her pulse quicken. She admits to herself that she wishes he would make a move.
When she returns to the table, she brushes his shoulder as she sits. He takes it as encouragement, reaching for her hand. She lets him hold it, and the current between them becomes undeniable.
She asks more personal questions to make sure he’s available. He assures her he is. He asks her the same. With their intentions out in the open, Daniel signals the end of dinner by asking for the check.
Miranda rises from her seat. She’s a little tipsy, her steps softer, looser than usual, though her eyes remain steady on him. Daniel acts like a gentleman, holding her strongly but gently by her waist as they move toward the door. Miranda thinks his hands feel so good on her body.
As they head toward the elevator, the drunk man from earlier gets up from his seat and stumbles in the same direction. He ends up riding up with them, still sloppy and loud. Daniel stays close to Miranda, steady and protective, and decides to accompany her to her floor to make sure she’s safe. When they step out, he insists on walking her all the way to her door.
At her door, they linger. She reaches for his tie, pulling him closer into a deep, sensual kiss. His strong hands grip her waist, holding her close. Breathless, she whispers for him to come inside. He doesn’t hesitate. The door closes, and the night shifts from a long day of stress into a release they’d both been waiting for.
Miranda turned to face him, her back against the door, and Daniel’s hands immediately found her breasts, his touch possessive yet tender. He leaned in, kissing her deeply while his hands cupped the full, ripe swell of her chest through the fabric of her dress. With a groan, he slipped the straps off her shoulders and buried his face between her soft, voluptuous tits. His hands kneaded them gently, savoring how warm and juicy they felt in his palms, pressing them together as he kissed and sucked while she gasped, arching into his touch. He loved how his face felt surrounded by her large breasts, their weight and warmth enveloping him as he worshipped them. With each suck, she grew more breathless, her moans escalating until she was on the edge, trembling with the pleasure he wrung from her chest alone.
Daniel’s hands traced the curve of her hips before slipping lower, his fingers brushing over the apex of her thighs. She gasped as his fingers found her hot and wet, already slick with arousal. He teased her until she came, her breath quivering in soft moans, only to start again, driving her toward another release. She trembled in his arms, her pleasure evident as she clung to him.
Without hesitation, Miranda dropped to her knees, her hands sliding up Daniel's thighs. She looked up at him with a mix of hunger and anticipation as she undid his belt and trousers, letting them fall to the floor. His hard cock sprang free, thick and ready. She wrapped her lips around the tip, savoring the taste of him as she took him deeper into her mouth, her tongue swirling along his shaft. Her soft, full breasts pressed against his legs as she worked him, her moans vibrating through him. Daniel groaned, his hands tangling in her hair as she sucked him with a rhythm that left him breathless.
Daniel lifts her effortlessly off the ground, her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and she laughs softly, the sound warm and breathy against his ear. He carries her to the bed, laying her down gently. His lips find hers again, and this time there’s no hesitation, no restraint.
She gasped softly as he entered her, his size stretching her in a way that hurt a little. “Slow,” she whispered, her voice trembling, and he obeyed, easing into her with care, his eyes locked on hers. The pain melted into pleasure as he filled her completely, his hands gripping her hips possessively.
Daniel spanked Miranda softly. “Harder,” she murmured with need. Daniel’s lips curved into a sensual grin. “Oh, you like it like that?” he asked, his tone low and teasing.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, her cheeks flushing. He obliged, his palm landing with a louder, stinging crack that made her moan loudly. “Here you go” he growled, pounding into her hard until she came.
They shifted, her on top now, and she took control. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, and Daniel couldn’t resist reaching up to cup them until she came again.
He followed soon after, his release crashing over him as he gripped her hips, pulling her down onto him one last time. They collapsed together, breathless and spent. Miranda rested her head on his chest, their fingers intertwining as they lay there in the quiet aftermath.
After a while, Daniel reluctantly got up, dressing silently while she watched him from the bed, a soft smile playing on her lips. He leaned down to kiss her one last time before slipping out the door, leaving her in the warm afterglow of a night neither of them would ever forget.
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