Business trips have their positives and negatives. Positives include a company paid for hotel room, maybe a lounge with a bar in the lobby, and sometimes free porn if the department P-Card is on file. Negatives include having to be away from your home surrounded by coworkers you don't particularly care for, eating the same terrible scrambled eggs at the continental breakfast (often times with said coworkers), and awkwardly running into your boss at the ice machine at 9PM. Over the course of a few days, this can be fatiguing and have you ready to leave faster than you can click out of a Zoom call.
The final few days of a full 5 day business trip are usually the most difficult. When the one coworker you genuinely click with asks if you'd like to have a drink to end a long day, it sounds like an innocent salvation of comfort. You simply don't say no.
--
The hollow knock of her hotel room door echoes down the brick hallway. I look around as I wait for Annie to let me in.
"One second! Just uh... throwing something on!" I hear her attempt to yell at a moderate volume. I can tell she's a bit frantic. The sounds of her rustling through her belongings are faint yet audible. As she continues to scramble, I wonder if coming to her room may end up being a mistake. Annie is my coworker. This is a business trip. My job could be on the line if I take something the wrong way and cross boundaries. It doesn't help that I've had thoughts about Annie before.. desires, even. She's just never quite shown the slightest interest in me other than laughing at my jokes or simply being kind to me. To some men that might be enough.. but I need certainty. Clarity. An undoubted consent.
After a few more seconds, the door of her Hilton hotel room begins to crack open until it slowly comes to a stop.
"Come on in!" Annie excitedly exclaims, stepping to the side and rotating her arm in towards the room to wave me in. I smile, oblige, and enter.
Her room is identical to mine, which in all honesty shouldn't surprise me as my room is next door. It's different only in the fact that Annie has decided to throw her clothes in a pile on the dark leather couch under the window sill. I imagine this may be what she was doing while I was waiting to be greeted. "Cleaning".
My eyes graze across her room as Annie bends over to get a bottle of champagne out of her small mini fridge towards the bottom of the entertainment center. The first thing I notice about her is the first thing anyone notices about her when they see her - that long, curly hair. It's unique, and gives her a style all her own. Her outfit remains unchanged from our meeting earlier today: a snug black pencil skirt that hugs her frame perfectly and a white blouse, with a white bra underneath to keep things professional. Classy. And yet, as my eyes wander, I notice her suitcase laying unzipped on the floor next to her bed. On top of it rests something colorful that my eyes curiously lock on to. A maroon red bra with a matching thong next to it, both made of delicate sheer lace. I glare for what would be considered a "long second". Annie's professional demeanor has never spoken to me in the way her choice of displayed underwear is at this very moment. Maybe she's just as good at dividing her professional presentation with her personal desires as I am. An innocent business trip, I would imagine, wouldn't require a nice set such as these.
"And here you go," She says in a friendly manner, extending to me a wine glass filled to the top with champagne, "they're the only set of glasses I could find in my room. I hope you don't mind?"
I take the glass in hand and a little bit spills over.
"No, not an issue at all." I reply, chuckling as I do. Annie laughs in return. Her laugh is contagious and I've always been astounded at the sound of it riding the fine line between cute and quirky.. perhaps it's a bit of both.
We did a cheers. And another. And another. And one more, because "fuck work" and "fuck management". Before I knew it, I was nicely buzzed and actually having a good time on a work trip. Annie and I had much more in common than I anticipated. We shared the same type of humor, the same favorite stand-up comedians, and even a lot of the same views on how men and women make friendships difficult or awkward. We had finally made it past the "coworker friend" phase, and entered into the "friend" phase.
Or so I thought.
"So, what does the misses think of you being out here on a work trip? Does she mind at all?" Annie asks, sipping more of her champagne as if it's a hot cup of tea and I'm going to spill the beans.
"No, actually. You'd be surprised. I think she enjoys the alone time." I reply, as we both laugh.
"I don't know how she does so well without you for a week, then. At least for me, if my husband was gone for a week I'd go crazy."
"In what aspect? Missing him?" I ask curiously.
Annie smiles, nervously. A mental debate on what answer to give me ensues, but the champagne gets the best of her.
"Yeah, missing him. His voice around the house. Cooking for him. Watching our TV show. The sex." She laughs and sips her drink. "Sorry, probably not the most appropriate comment, but it's true! A week is a long time!"
At this point we're both laughing obnoxiously.
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I made sure to fuck her good before I left. Always do." I assure her. It seems she isn't the only one over sharing.
"Cheers to that!" Annie yells, raising her glass to the air towards me. I raise mine as she adds, "to getting fucked good!"
As our laughter calms, silence fills the room and I worry things have become awkward. That is, until she cracked open the door of possibilities for our night.
"Ah, man. I don't even remember the last time I was fucked good. I mean- I remember the last time I had sex, obviously. But good? Leg-shakingly good? That's been awhile. I know that." She explains, and looks down at her drink. I look down at mine and smile.
"Well, would you like to be reminded?" I ask, calmly. My eyes still staring at my drink.
"Huh?" Annie asks, genuinely confused.
"I'm sorry, I'm a direct person." I explain, as I look up from my drink to see Annie staring at me.
"I asked if you'd like to be reminded of how it feels to be fucked good. 'Leg-shakingly good', as you put it."
"I don't understand. Why would you ask me that? You're married."
"Annie, I'm in a bit of a special relationship. You see, my wife and I.. we have this arrangement. I'm her Daddy. I am the dominant to her submissive. She does as I say, in certain aspects of our relationship. Mainly sexual aspects, and almost always for her pleasure as much as mine. We've been this way for some time. In our adventures there came a point where we figured out that she enjoys it when I have sex with other women. With.. or, without her. As long as I tell her about it in great detail that way she can enjoy it as much as I did. Interestingly enough, videos are her favorite."
"I'm confused. She just lets you have sex with other women?" Annie asks, astounded.
I can't help but laugh in response.
"Annie, she doesn't 'let' me. She asks me to. Hell, sometimes I make her beg. Again, I'll be direct. My wife enjoys it when I fuck other women." My bluntness leaves a bit of astonishment on her face, but I can see a part of it makes her blush as well.
"Wow, I've never met anyone in a relationship like that. It sounds kind of crazy. I don't think I could ever do that!" She remarks as she bursts out laughing.
"I know it does, but my question remains unanswered. Would you like to be reminded what it's like to be fucked good?" I ask again, only more firmly this time. Rarely do I ask twice when I'm in this mindset.
"If what you're saying is true.. then yes. I would. God yes, I would." She responds, firmly.
"It's true. Trust me. But are you sure? Once we cross this line, there's no going back. I do value our friendship and wouldn't want to ruin that. I would hate for you to regret your decision due to the champagne and want to take this back in the morning."
