I'm hosting tonight — every time I pass you, my hip brushes your thigh. Again. Again. Third time, I lean close, lips to your ear: "Nothing under this dress." I grab your hand, pull you into the back room, lock the door. Guests are twenty feet away. I push you down onto the chair, hike up my dress, bare pussy glistening, nipples hard through silk. "We have to be fast." I straddle you right there, grind my clit against your cock, rocking in that chair until I'm cumming and shaking Can't stop there. I need more. I slide onto you, riding hard, then spin — reverse cowgirl so you can watch my creamy mess dripping down your shaft, soaking you, the chair creaking beneath us. "Again," I whisper, bouncing faster. "And again." You feel me clench, cum, clench — until I'm begging: "Bust deep. Fill me. Now." Guests never knew.