âWow, thanks! Youâre sure itâs ok?!â
âYes, definitely. I wouldnât offer it I didnât mean it.â
âAlrightâŚIâm taking you up on it. Itâll be a good time.â
And that was that. I hung up, surprised yet excited. I had just been offered to share an already-paid for room for an upcoming work conference. Not only that, I was going to be sharing it with a friend and co-worker who I had only met a few months ago. I thought back to my first NAFSA conference where I had shared a room with my director. He was a great guy and I had learned a lot from our conversations in and out of the room during the conference. But, undoubtedly, a sexy woman was sure going to beat an old guy in white briefs.
I found myself slightly surprised that she would offer to share her room. She seemed so private. And she seemed to be somewhat annoyed by my juvenile antics. Yet, I also knew she enjoyed the conversations we had relating to work. We had also both spent considerable time in the Midwest, which gave us an obvious connection. It would be interesting I decided.
As the weeks passed, I found myself contemplating the conference. Actually, I wasnât really thinking about the conference so much as I was thinking about the hotel I would be staying in and the person Iâd be staying with. Would I have to sleep on the couch? Would there be any opportunity to sleep in the bed with her? I had no idea. But my constant thoughts led to some nervousness. In the end, I had no idea how it would all play out. Then, everything changed. Another friend of ours announced she was also staying with us. Now, after the fleeting thoughts of a wild threesome that might have been the pinnacle of my sexual career, I realized my curiosities were all pretty much dead. I would most certainly be enjoying the view from the couch. And there was never going to be any threesome, lesbian affair, or other type of rude male sexual fantasy. I couldâve spent countless hours hoping but it was futile. Not only was there going to be no female sex, I was going to have no opportunity to conveniently slide into the spoon position at about 3 in the morning during a period of supposedly deep sleep.
I relegated myself to this future and realized that, although some avenues had closed, others were wide open. I had the chance to go spend a full week with two really great girls and get to know them better. I got over my early disappointment and all was well. This didnât mean that the previous thoughts were gone but only that they lingered in my subconscious instead of positioning themselves on the forefront of my daily thoughts.
The final weeks passed and suddenly I found myself fumbling around the lobby trying to find the girls who I was staying with. I knew I was late and had arrived in the middle of a networking event but I felt like a moron in my baseball cap and sneakers in the hotel lobby. If I had been standing in a Days Inn or even a Holiday Inn, I wouldnât have even passed the thought. But this hotel reeked of glamour. Designed for the wealthy, powerful, and apparently, those attending a conference in town. In the end, I found my lady friends who helped me find the room and then informed me that we were going out. That was the best news around. I needed a drinkâŚor a fewâŚand no better way to get the conference started.
It was a solid night. Nothing extravagant or news-breaking, but a solid night. The rest of the conference went on similarly. Interesting sessions, nice people, hot weather, and work socials in the evening. I was having a good time and so were the girls. Women, I should say. Day after day passed uneventfully. Each night I found myself in a bed of discarded quilts on the floor. It wasnât uncomfortable but it sure wasnât like being snuggled between two women in the bed. I found it enjoyable to be living in a hotel with these two. It allowed me to get to know them differently. I wondered about what they packed and what type of travelers each of them was. I wondered if one could learn a little or a lot about them by seeing what was in their suitcases. I never did look, but I found myself extremely curious about their underwear and intimate items. I think it was because I could be getting ready at the sink while one of them was behind a single door showering. It was almost too much. I dared peek many times but I just couldnât bring myself to do it. If I were to be caught, what would I say? âSorry?â It didnât seem like enough. âOh, I simply couldnât help my sorry ass because I was dying to see what the water looks like cascading off of your skin?â Hmmm, that one seemed to have a bit more credibility but I didnât exactly think it would get me out of hot water. I also considered, âIâm doing research on womenâs shaving patterns and was curious how you shave yourselfâ. Ok, I only considered it for about a second.
Whatever the case, I realized something. It was what I knew and had thought when I had first been offered to share the room. I was curious and turned on by the woman who had offered to share. She was private. Mysterious. Intelligent , always taking in information and shaping thoughts about people. She was also very pretty. With shimmering brown hair past her chin, rich brown eyes, and a warm smile. Her body was extremely athletic. She was a runner and swimmer and it showed. Slim and firm, everywhere. It appeared that there was not an ounce of fat. Her breasts were small but worked perfectly with her body. And, anyway, I loved small breasts. All that really matters with breasts is sensation and, as long as oneâs breasts are sensitive, Iâm extremely turned on. I imagined her nipples were quite sexy and stood out firmly when aroused. I wanted to swirl my tongue around them, leaving a trail of warm saliva over her aereolas. Then gently kiss and suck her hardened nipple, taking it in my mouth. That would be the ultimate conference!
So this is how it went. I would consider her and then find myself enraptured in visions of sexuality. Enticing her, coercing her, stealing her. So, back to her body. Iâm a leg man and she had great legs. Strong and slim. Just how I liked a womanâs legs to be. The kind you could lick all day. The kind that would lock you in and pull you deeperâŚeach and every time. I also enjoyed things like her jewelry. She had great rings. They were always silver and shiny, which was so feminine. But some of the rings were rather large and had a great contradiction within them. Shiny and silver, all things feminine, yet large, which was more masculine. I was sort of internally embarrassed to admit it but the rings drew me to her hands and conjured images of her firm grip around my shaft, stroking me gently. Holding my hardened shaft firmly, therein controlling me. There were a few sessions at the conference where I found these visions racing through my mind and I would look down to notice my hips gyrating gently in my chair. âDamn, I hope no one saw that. What the hellâŚcalm down,â would run through my mind about 20 times until my raging hard-on would ease up ever so slightly.
So, back to my point from minutes ago. The girl was very cute. Sexy in a sweet and innocent way. Intelligent and strong. Filled with mystery and intrigue. In the five months that I had known her, I had never been able to break through the exterior. And I had to admit that I was curious. Curious about what made her tick, what made her nervous, why she was so private, why she was there but not, all at the same time. I also wanted to know the lame guy things like what kind of underwear did she wear? Did she enjoy being eaten out? Was she a moaner? A screamer? A talker? Quiet? If I could only get in that bed! Wait. That would only encourage the bulge in my pants that had never really died down from the dayâs sessions. And with two girls in the room it was tough to find a time for sexual release.