Author's Note:
You may or may not recognize this piece. I wrote it a few months back when I was toying with posting on forums from a different site. It was written under the name I had chosen to use there. It is titled something different over there, but I really enjoy Literotica's story board, so I left the other site and have come back where I belong. I hope you enjoy! ~ Red
The thirty something redhead stifled a yawn as she tried to remain upright in her seat. The pitchman was anything but fun and energetic, if anything his monotone voice would be just the thing she needed to get a good night's sleep. It seemed to work for a daytime nap. Subconsciously she felt her head bob; she jerked herself upright, shook herself to ward off the sleepiness and stretched one leg forward, flexing the lean muscles under the tailored slacks. She had to get out of here, or she'd start snoring and drooling all over her paperwork. A quick glance at the clock told her the seminar had another three hours. There was no way she'd make it to the end, no way at all. But how to leave? She never was one to disappear and draw attention to herself unless a real emergency warranted it. Another yawn threatened to appear...this was one of those times.
Emerald Stone began to cough...hard. So violently in fact that she felt compelled to excuse herself. She gathered up her papers, stuffing them carelessly into her briefcase, all the while hacking as if she were going to expel a lung. By the time she made her way to the conference room exit, people were offering her sips of water, offers she brushed off. Once outside, the door closed firmly behind her, Emerald sighed with relief. She took a deep breath and headed to the elevator.
In less than an hour Emerald was in and out of her room, freshly showered, her tailored threads, a memory. In their place she wore, a soft black dress with spaghetti straps, the hem stopping at her knees and black stilettos. Her long hair hung in curls, cascading down her back; the tips danced merrily across the top of her ass.
The hotel's bar was spacious and dark, just want she needed. The music filling the room was upbeat, but not overbearingly loud; she glanced around, smiled at the bartender and claimed a seat next to the window. A uniformed waitress, her blouse crisp and white, slacks dark and stiff came over and took Emerald's order, a simple elegant glass of white wine.
~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~
She sat there quietly sipping her drink while reading some cheap romance novel. A half naked man grasping a barely clad woman against his hard chiseled frame graced the cover and brought a smirk from Jarod Mason's lips. "A woman dressed like that should be in the arms of a man, not have her nose buried in a fantasy about one," he told his friend, whom he'd entered the bar with. The other man agreed, eying the woman with interest.
"She looks a little uptight," he said. Jarod agreed, but continued to look at her via the mirror on the wall.
"Uptight, perhaps. Beautiful, definitely."
His friend shrugged and muttered something about being out of their league. Jarod brushed the comment off and picked up his drink. He wove his way around the few tables that separated him from the woman in the black dress. "Can I buy you another round?" he asked once he reached her side.
Emerald finished the line she'd been reading and closed her book, keeping one finger between the pages in order to save her place. On any other given night she'd had waved the man off and pointedly ignored him, but tonight the book wasn't doing much for her and he looked like a guy that could carry on an intelligent conversation. "Sure, have a seat."
Jarod would have fainted from shock, had he been the type to do such a thing, but he wasn't. To say he was pleased would have been an understatement, but he knew better than to kick a gift horse in the mouth. He slipped into the seat across from her, lifted his hand to signal a couple more drinks be brought their way and reached across the table. With a firm handshake he introduced himself. "Jarod Mason."
