The Conference

Sometimes compliments arrive in the strangest of ways.

This short story came about from a specific request by a researcher at a large Mid-western University. In this day and age of "Me Too", with so many allegations of rape by people in power from people who need the help of those who are in power, the researcher was looking into the dynamic between strangers meeting and their first sexual encounter. Was it consensual, or persuaded? Was it rape, or Mutually Assured Seduction? What if we had a requirement that any time any sexual activity took place, a specific question and positive response must take place first? Would that stifle the spontaneity of lustful attraction and first time encounters? Would it be different in an outright dating scenario than if it were in a business scenario?

Their intent was to have people read a short story about a meeting, in a business atmosphere, where an explicit "yes" or "no" was required before anything took place. They needed a story, and someone suggested that my stories almost always have realistic dialogue, so they asked if I could write them a short story, for research purposes. Writing with me is never instantaneous; whether I'm consciously thinking about it or not, once an idea begins, it sometimes takes days to solidify into something I can put on paper. They had a deadline on this, it was literally the last minute when this finally came together, I wrote this in one evening, and the result is below. Enjoy! (Oh, and while I wrote this quite rapidly and passed it to them with permission to use - I really don't know whether they did or not. I sent a query months later, and had no response, so if anyone has ever seen this story in relation to such a research project, I'd love to hear back about it.)

*

"Dave," the voice, from slightly behind me, irritatingly interrupted once again. "I just wanted to thank you! You hit the nail right on the head about contractors' best interests not being our best interests. You can't believe..."

For at least the 10th time as he tried to work his way across the floor at the cocktail "meet and greet" following their afternoon presentation, he stopped and turned, politely listened, nodded, and thanked him before excusing himself and stepping away, always moving closer to her.

He'd been right in the middle of his presentation when his eyes latched onto hers. How was it, in a presentation hall with over 300 people listening to him and the other three co-panelists, that right in the middle of speaking, his eyes had found hers and he'd known? The spark that jumped between them had been unmistakable.

His eyes had been sweeping the audience; he was speaking so, of course, everyone had been looking at him, but with her - there had been something different. He'd verbally stumbled, had to reorient his eyes, adding an extraneous "um" which he so hated to do and as a frequent speaker had taught himself not to do, and then caught up. Of course his eyes crossed her again, and although he hadn't meant to, he stopped. He was looking at her; not looking at the crowd in that area of which she just happened to be a part of, but looking at

her

. And she knew it. He saw the enigmatic smile, the twinkle in her eye, and he knew that she knew.

Later, when he wasn't speaking, he'd just had to look her way again, searching out the radiant beauty that had caught his attention, and found her eyes on him still. He bobbed his head just slightly, and hers bobbed in return confirming that they were in sync, a burst of sexual thought intruding into his thoughts and pants until he squashed it down. Two strangers, not yet having met, connected in some way. Now, 45 minutes later, he was headed her way, bobbing and weaving through the crowd, continually moving closer. Snatching two glasses of wine from the tray of the waiter picking his way through the crowd, his next stop was the stand-up table where his target was, as yet, unaware of his close proximity. Her back, for the moment, was turned toward him.

"May I buy you a drink?" He asked, stepping into her personal space and leaning into her shoulder so he didn't have to shout as he did so. It was an open affront, an intrusion into her personal space that might be done in a crowded bar scene, but not normally done in a business atmosphere. Turning she saw it was him, and tellingly - didn't step away. Holding up the red and the white wines, he gave her the choice, she reached for the red.

"Interesting," he said as her hand touched the stem of the glass and his fingers; he didn't immediately release his grip. "I thought you were a white woman," he continued with a smile. She looked at him, and then realizing he was joking, burst out laughing.

"I've been called a lot of things in my life, but this is the first time I've ever been called a

white

woman. But," her hand shifted to the stem of the other glass, "you are correct, I usually prefer a white wine."

"Dave," he said, holding out his hand as if to any other colleague.

"I know who you are, Dave the Speaker. I'm Alex," she answered in return, her long cool fingers sliding into his grasp. For the second time tonight, in what was normally a non-sexual situation, he felt a burst of heat and a swelling in his pants.

His eyes glanced down at the name tag on her breast, seeing the name of Alexandra and her firm's name, before it dawned on him. "Alex," he repeated, not releasing her hand but not keeping her from pulling away either. He'd meant to just look at the name tag, having kept his eyes circumspectly upon her face until now, but they'd been drawn inexorably to the bare chocolate flesh of her cleavage. It had been just a tiny fraction of a second, his eyes caressing the valley between her breasts before centering once more on her name tag. "Alex. Alex of Simone Swooster and Associates. We know each other, don't we." It was a statement not a question.

"We've certainly exchanged enough e-mails, you would think that we should."

"But we've never talked; we've never met in person." He released her hand and pulled his own back, realizing she hadn't pulled away as he did. "You'll have to forgive me; I've always thought you were a man. I never thought of Alex as being anything but a man's name... rather than short for a woman..." his voice trailed off apologetically.

"What is it about you?" Alex asked with an impish grin on her face and laughter in her voice, "do you like getting into trouble? Going around insulting women?"

"I'm... I'm not sure what..."

Alex laughed. "First you accuse me of being a white woman. And then you accuse me of being a man, a short man."

"I didn't accuse you of being a man," Dave defended himself. "Definitely not a man." Without intending, his eyes had dropped once again to valley between her breasts before rising back to her face.

"So," Alex said, laughter accenting her voice as she dropped it so that only he could hear. "So far we've established that I'm not a white woman, I'm not a short man and you like breasts." She stopped, and when Dave didn't say anything, she continued, "Is that about it?"

Dave took another sip of his wine, resting his hand with his half empty glass on the table before saying "So far, I guess that's true. We haven't said anything about how gorgeous I think you are. We still have to determine whether you're going to join me for dinner, and finally you haven't indicated if you any other plans for the evening."

"And what are your plans for the evening, Mr. Dave the Speaker?"

He didn't even hesitate. "You."

Alex took a sip of the wine he'd brought her, looked at the almost full glass and shifted it to her other hand, to rest her hand and glass on the table just in front of Dave's and her virtually untouched Margarita. "I like Margarita's and I don't know how, but the bartender here has screwed mine up twice. You're going to have to find someplace with better Margarita's and we can decide whether I have plans for the evening later."

~

Rush hour and no reservation on a night with a convention in town meant spending almost an hour in the increasingly crowded bar. Easy chatter about nothing important flowed between them. A margarita turned into two, but the buzzer they'd been given remained silent.

At first they'd been standing beside each other at the bar, Margaritas in hand, but as the crowd grew and forced them together, Alex turned sideways to Dave with her shoulder practically snuggled into his chest. His hand had rested on her arm when they were side by side, but he moved it to her back when she turned sideways. At first his hand was just resting; however, his fingers began moving soon after, stroking the flesh of her back.

His fingers slowly cut figure eights, circles, stroked back and forth slightly and, of course, gradually drifted downward. His fingers on her upper back gradually became fingers on the small of her back; the small of her back gradually became the top of her butt. A space opened up beside Alex but almost immediately a couple trying to get a drink pushed into the space forcing them even closer together. Alex turned her back to Dave and pushed back into him giving them more room. As she did, she reached across her body to grip his hand, raising it from her butt to her waist and held it there.

Dave was certain that she hadn't really minded his hand on her back, actually seemed to be responding to his gentle caress; however, he understood perfectly that she was saying her butt was off limits, at least in this atmosphere and for the moment. Glancing around the crowded bar, absolutely no one was looking at them, and with the crowd it was virtually impossible to see past the first layer of people. Had she stopped him because of where they were, or because of where his hand was? He wasn't sure, but their mutual positioning was definitely more intimate than when they'd first entered the bar to await their table.

The pager buzzed on the counter.

~

"So, I do have a bottle of wine in the room," Dave said as the taxi headed the few blocks to the conference hotel. "Care to come up and share a glass?"

He'd plugged in a call for an Uber, but at this busy hour it was 15 minutes away and a taxi pulled up just as they walked out. He cancelled the Uber; Alex slid halfway into the taxi, leaving just enough room for him to slide in beside her. Alex didn't slide any further over, when he slid in and put his arm around her shoulder, she turned just enough to nestle her back into his side. Looking down over Alex's shoulder he got a glimpse of ebony skin of her breasts accented by the sheer lace of a black bra, momentarily visible every time they went by a street light. Reaching up with his free hand his fingers found her jaw and cheek. "Are you going to fight me if I try and kiss you?" he whispered in her ear, mindful of the cab driver.

"I might fight you if you don't," she giggled quietly, "But I'd prefer if you'd wait until we're alone." Turning her head over her shoulder to look him in the face, she saw his eyes rise to hers. "Liking the view?" she asked with a smirk. Without looking away from him, she moved her upper arms closer together, pushing her breasts together and opening the gap in her blouse just a little more. With his eyes locked on hers he saw this with his peripheral vision and actually managed to refrain from glancing down at least momentarily, but knowing she was offering a view of her gorgeous breasts, it wasn't for long. When he let his gaze lower, her eyes still on his, he could see between her breasts to the bottom of her bra, realizing her nipples had pebbled up, accenting her blouse.

"Very nice," he whispered in return, just as the cab turned into the hotel lot. He moved his free hand across his chest to her body, his fingers brushing the side of her breast before widening and sliding forward to bump across her nipple, his hand cupping and giving her breast one brief squeeze before withdrawing. The cab spun into the drive-in front of the hotel, he opened the door and slid out, chivalrously putting his hand down for her.

There was no one waiting for the bank of elevators; pushing the button a door opened instantly and they stepped in alone. Dave pushed the button for his floor and turned back to Alex as the door closed behind them. "Do you know what I want to do?"

"Something naughty? Because that's what I want to do." She stepped forward, Dave putting his arms around her and pulling her close.

"Yeah. We're on candid camera at the moment," he said, "but at least I can do this." Turning her body to face him, he bent his face and met hers. Her eyes closed and mouth opened slightly, knowing what was coming, but he stopped, his mouth inches from hers. "Gotta want it," he whispered.

"Ummm," she responded, "I want it."

"Want what?" he teased, moving his lips to where they were almost touching hers. "Say it," he prompted.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

He did.

~

Dave ushered Alex into the room. She'd barely entered enough for him to release the door when she turned and stepped into his embrace. His head bent to hers, their mouths locked together, her hand reaching behind his head to hold his face to hers. Tongues dueled, and for the first time his hands, unimpeded, roamed her body, and hers roamed his. Down her back to her bottom, he pulled her against himself just as her hands reached and pulled his own ass toward her. Releasing her butt, his hand rose between them, gripping and squeezing her breast. Full handed at first, his grip lessened, and his fingers searched out the hard pebble of her nipple, a moan of approval emanating from her throat as his fingers found them. Her hands gripped and kneaded his ass, pulling him against herself where she could feel the rising hardness in his pants between them. When he pulled his mouth from hers and straightened up, she didn't relinquish her grip on him.

"You've got something I want," he said, his hands coming together on the upper button of her blouse. His fingers seemed to fumble and then she realized he'd slipped the button more expertly than she'd thought possible of him as his fingers were already to the second button.

"What" she whispered breathily, "could you possibly be talking about?" His fingers stopped on the third button, causing her to look down. She saw his pointer finger extend and split her blouse to touch the inside of her breast. His one fingertip stroked slowly along her skin, reaching her chest and then stroked outward on the inside of her other breast crossing the valley of her cleavage. Reaching her blouse his fingers together found the next button. Watching she saw his fingers carefully turn the button on edge, aligning with the hole and slide it back through. For some reason she realized he was treating her clothes as gently as she would. His fingers spread her blouse and moved to the next button, the center of her bra now completely exposed.

"You don't know," he said, "yet?" He gripped the blouse, lifting it; she felt it slide upward out of her skirt, the remaining buttons disposed with almost magically fast.

Inwardly Alex was about to scream for him to hurry up, to rip her blouse and bra off and suck her aching nipples. Outwardly, she couldn't just do that, she needed to tease him, to let him tease her, as much as she needed his mouth on her breasts. Her own hands had lifted from his ass, now gripping his belt and waist. She ground her belly against him as he completely parted her shirt, pushing it both ways towards her shoulders. "You want my blouse? I don't think it will fit you."

"That's a start, I suppose," he said, but made no effort to push it further back or off. Instead his hands slid inward from where they were, onto her breasts next to her armpits and downward, his thumbs finding and caressing her nipples. She hadn't realized they had hardened as much as they had. "I'm beginning to think you want something too?" he whispered. Leaning forward his mouth found her neck, forced her head upward to kiss her chest. "Tell me."

Her breath escaped her in a rush as his mouth moved lower on her chest, onto the tops of her breasts. Her hand rose to hold his head to her, but she didn't have the strength, he seemed to move at his will despite her hand, somehow not moving to where she wanted.

Oh God, just do it! Suck them! Bite them! Oh, you're driving me crazy!

ran through her mind, but she needed him to do it. No, she couldn't say it.

"Tell me what you want," he reiterated, his mouth and tongue caressing against the upper edge of her bra. His lips were kissing the insides of her breasts now, her exposed cleavage, and making her squirm but refusing to move that damn bit of lace cloth between his lips and her flesh where she wanted them to be. Somehow his hands had moved to her waist, finding the clasp and zipper, but she didn't realize how far he'd gone until her skirt slipped and then fell around her feet. His hand slid backward onto her bare ass, his fingers tracing the edges of her thong, slipping just under the edge and tracing along her hip, to the crease of her leg, the back of his fingers sliding downward inside the front of her panty before pulling out, and both hands returning to her ass. He pulled her harder against him and the now iron hard appendage that, if she hadn't been so distracted by his mouth so close to the ache of her nipples, would have been the focus of her attention.

Dave's hand again traced the edge of her thong, sliding forward to her hip bone. She pulled in her stomach, loosening the pressure of her body against her panties so he could easily slide his hand in, down the front of her panties, but he didn't take the hint. Instead his hand turned over, sliding down the outside of her panties, cupping her mound briefly and moved on. "Oh, I'm sorry," he teased, "that's right, I guess you don't want that." His mouth rose from her breasts, kissing back up her chest to her neck. She unconsciously groaned, he'd been so close. "Or do you? If you want it, tell me."

"I want it."

"Ummm, that's a good girl... but want what?" His mouth started back down her chest, slowly returning to where he'd been. "Tell me, what do you want? What do you want?"

His mouth had returned to the inside of her breasts again, his lips playing with the upper edge of her bra. She heard her mind screaming, "Just do it! Suck them! Bite my nipples!"

"Oh yeah, that's a good girl," he said, his hands roughly pushing her bra cup down, her freed breast suddenly filling his mouth, her nipple throbbing with delight. Somehow, she could hear her own words in her ears, realizing she must have said what she wanted out loud, even as she groaned from the pleasure of his assault.

His mouth occupied with her breasts, his hands reached up and finally pushed the blouse from her shoulders, his fingers finding and releasing the clasp, her bra also falling to the ground. "Oh my god, so gorgeous! Such perfect ladies!" he whispered, between his mouth plastering kisses to the top of her breasts and suckling first one and then the other nipple. "Oh my god, I want to fuck your titties... I want to fuck you... And... I want you to suck my cock; ride my cock! I want to..." his voice faded off, his arm went around her waist, pulling her body tight against him and suddenly lifted her, her skirt falling from her feet. Stepping forward he collapsed forward depositing her onto the bed. His mouth relinquished her nipple and worked its way down her body, across her belly, to the edge of her bikini panty. His hand once again brushed her pussy through her panties. "Oh..." she breathed in anticipation, his exhale hot on her belly, so close... so close... all he had to do was... She once again pushed her belly upward into his touch, but he didn't respond to her non-verbal acceptance of his advances.

"Tell me!" he commanded. "I can tell you're so hot, you're so wet..." his lips once again kissed her belly, touching the edge of her panty; nibbling, teasing... "Tell me!" It was just a slight pause before he continued, his voice no longer commanding, "Oh... I'm sorry, I guess I misunderstood that you wanted something...?" his fingers and lips pulling away from her body.