Audry's car sailed into the parking lot of a shiny, impersonal motel/convention center on the outskirts of Milwaukee. She disembarked into the velvety, muted light of a summer day beneath an army of dark clouds, clouds that heralded an impending thunderstorm. And as is usually the case, the clouds were accompanied by an unusually cool breeze that always gave Audry a sensual thrill. The breeze playfully caught the hem of her dress, as if to underscore the point.
She moved purposefully across the lot, and into the less interesting, air-conditioned coolness of the lobby. She spied the conference registration desk and signed in, and as she did so, one of her two anxieties began to dissipate. She had worried about the presentation she was to make at the conference, but now that she was there in her work environment, her training kicked in and she was running on autopilot; she was, in fact, very well prepared for this.
That left one other anxiety. She had been placed into a dilemma by her college buddy and latter-day boss, Pat, who was to have been at the conference at well, but had to cancel at the last minute, sending her husband, Scott, as a stand-in. That was what made things complicated. In college, Audry and Pat had an understanding whereby they seduced one another's boyfriends, and then talked about it afterwords -- in intimate detail. It became a matter of intense interest for the both of them. But after college, they went their separate ways, and they had never discussed what would happen in the future, especially if one of them were to get into a serious relationship, such as marriage. And now, without any explanation beyond a message on her voice mail, Pat had put her into a situation where she would be meeting Scott, and she wasn't quite sure how to handle it. And she had only a few minutes to decide.
Audry put that few minutes to good use by getting herself a room. She didn't need to spend the night; she could drive back to Madison. But she was keeping her options open.
Audry was to meet Scott at the registration table at 3:00, just before Audry's presentation. She ducked into a nearby ladies' room. A popular piece of advice to public speakers is to deal with stage-fright by imagining the members of one's audience sitting in their underwear. Audry preferred a different approach, where she addressed them without her own underwear. She liked to get herself just a little aroused before the presentation, because she found it calmed her nerves. So, off came the panties, and into her purse. She allowed her fingers to glide over her pussy for just a few seconds, to prime the pump. She closed her eyes, parted her lips, and smiled, and then, letting her emerald-green dress fall into place, went looking for Scott.
She had no clue as to what Scott looked like, but she assumed he would be attractive -- knowing Pat -- and that he would not be one of the employees of the firm, most of which she had met at one time or another. So, Audry stood near the registration table, appraising the men there and fantasizing just a little about the ones that met her criteria. She turned around to look toward the entrance, and saw a man giving her boobs that familiar gaze of covert yearning, a gaze she had learned to recognize since high school, because it was always a 100% guarantee that she could get the gazer into bed if she wanted to. The man caught himself in a fraction of a second -- so busted! -- and pretended to be reading her nametag, which was right there in his line of sight. "Excuse me," he said, "I'm Scott Wilcox."
She gave him The Smile, but toned it down a bit, because she was in a tricky situation here. He was hot, no question about it. Six feet tall, fit and trim, short curly hair, green eyes. She could definately find a use for a guy like him. But she had to tread lightly, because she didn't want to hurt her friend who was also her boss. She greeting him graciously and found him a seat in the auditorium, just as the conference moderator called her up to make her presentation. Audry walked up to the podium, smiling inwardly as she savored the warm and slippery feeling between her legs. But by the time she turned to face the audience, she was all business.
Her presentation rocked the house. She acknowledged the applause, and then walked briskly back to where Scott was sitting, motioning with her head that she wanted to go outside the auditorium. He followed her into the lobby, and made some polite comments about her speech. He clearly didn't have much involvement with the subject matter, but he was full of praise for her delivery.
Audry told him that she had been very nervous about the presentation, which was true, up to a point, and said she'd like to get a drink. Scott had no problem with that. They went into the lounge, and Audry selected a table in the back, where the lights on the dim side. Audry ordered a double Bushmills, which might have seemed a bit much for four in the afternoon, but Scott didn't seem to think so, and had the same. They began to chat about topics of mutual interest, including Pat, and as Audry began to feel the liquor, her internal debate began. It went something like this:
She had decided that she was very attracted to Scott. Scott was charming and funny. But, he was minding his manners. He didn't say anything that could be construed as him hitting on her. Nonetheless, not even the perfect gentleman can look at a body like Audry's without registering his appreciation in subtle, unconscious ways, and Audry was expert at detecting these signals. But what about Pat? She could have given Audry some sort of clue about how to handle this. It wasn't necessary to send her husband to this event, and in general, the whole set-up was reminiscent of the game they used to play in college. Audry could easily imagine Pat at home, naked in an armchair with one leg splayed over an arm, doing all sorts of things to herself as she imagined Scott with Audry.
But, Audry hadn't had much contact with Pat in recent years, and there was no guarantee that Pat wasn't actually visiting her sick mother, which is what she had told Scott.
So, everything was up in the air. The tension was making Audry thirsty, and horny. She pulled energetically at her drink, and talked up a storm. Scott was looking at her tits, discreetly. Maybe he'd like a better view. Oh so casually, as she was making a point about how to handle personnel disputes, Audry flipped loose a button, and then another, at the top of her dress. Scott should be able to see a lot more now. He had that sort of secretly mesmerized look that she knew so well. Clearly, she could get anything she wanted from this guy. But she had to decide what she wanted.
If he were just another guy, she would probably have given him a blowjob under the table -- that's the sort of mood she was in. She could feel how hard her nipples were against the flimsy brassiere, and by now he could probably see how hard they were. Her pussy was primed and ready down there where the air was caressing it, under her dress, and without thinking twice she sent her left hand down to say hello, while her right hand held her drink in the neighborhood of her mouth. After checking to be sure that her busy left hand was invisible under the tablecloth, Audry called the waitress over and ordered another round of drinks.
At this point, Audry's pussy was beginning to call the shots. What the hell, she thought, and looking Scott dead in the eyes, she said, "You know, Scott, you're a very attractive man." He didn't respond. He could have looked nervous or disapproving. Audry finished her Bushmills just as the waitress walked up with round two. Audry took the tray from her, and brought her left hand up from beneath the table to take a glass and wave it under Scott's nose, letting him smell it. Actually, she was letting him smell her fingers, and the expression on his face spoke volumes.
Outside, there was a sudden flash, followed by the hollow rumbling of thunder and a rattling crescendo of rain. Audry paid little heed to it; the sights and sounds of the storm hardly seemed to penetrate the sanctuary of the convention center cocktail lounge, which was as quiet, as impersonal and as deserted as the stacks in a library. The waitress, having brought another round, had retreated to the front of the bar, leaving Audry and Scott alone in the dim recesses with the subliminal whispering of the air conditioner.
To Audry, there seemed to be something enticingly tawdry about sitting in these anonymous surroundings with a married man, married, in fact, to her dear college chum. She had a bit of a buzz from the whiskey, and it had blunted her moral misgivings about what she was likely to do next. She was sitting across the table from Scott, holding his glass of Irish whiskey in front of his nose, so that he could savor the combination of the venerable, roasted aroma of the Bushmills in the glass, along with the sweeter and more pungent scent of the pussy juice on her fingers. Scott's expression suggested that he was offering up a little prayer of thanks for the bounty he was about to receive. It left no doubt in Audry's mind that he was hers for the taking.
