Ch. 01 - Initiation
The convention was over for the day. Except that when you're in sales, the fat lady doesn't sing. If you think she's about to start, you gag her and lead her off the stage.
For about half of the conventions I attend, I spend most of my time with a Special Interest / Networking group in imaging, usually on a panel. Sometimes I have no speaking role, but today, in San Diego, I presented to the entire body. I'm used to a level of stress at conventions, but the event had been particularly rough.
The fourteen hour a day nature of medical conventions is grueling, but taking questions after my presentation had left me particularly drained. They included being interrogated about AI analysis and its effect on the industry. I'm sure I didn't win any friends among the radiologists in the audience, and soon I had to dine with senior staff of one of the major teaching hospitals.
That was in an hour. Right now, I just needed a drink. I sat at the bar - no time to socialize before dinner - and ordered a mezcal paloma.
"Yo, Kathryn!"
The voice was deep, masculine, and coming from a table to my left. I turned to see the dark, shaven head of Marc, a friendly rival, and someone I'd always enjoyed sparring with. I smiled at him, indicated that I was waiting on the bartender, then motioned in his direction to signal that I'd be there when my drink arrived. Maybe there was time for a quick gossip session with an acquaintance.
Marc stole a chair and wedged it between his own and the woman he always traveled with, Erika. She was also friendly, but had grilled me for design secrets more than once.
"Everyone, this is Kathryn," Marc announced to the table. "You all just heard her garrotting my company. By tomorrow she'll be dancing on our grave."
"Don't be dramatic, Marc. You can always market to facilities that prioritize budget over patient outcomes."
"Oh! Oww! Oww!" Marc wailed before making a "k-k-k-k-k" sound, clutching at his neck.
Marc wouldn't take offence at my words. In fact his company was quite the opposite of my accusations. Their gear was highly specialized and very expensive. It was something of a niche market, but they were unquestioned leaders in their field.
"Dancing on our grave," Marc repeated, with a long face.
"Works for me," I said. "I like dancing."
I felt rather than saw a woman sitting across from me smiling. Without catching her eye, I asked Marc to introduce the group. The man on his left was a customer of Marc's at a major surgical center. His grin suggested that my badmouthing Marc wasn't going to cause problems, though really I should have been more circumspect. I blamed my post-presentation stress levels. The woman beside him also represented the center, and next to her was the blonde whose smile had seemed to sunburn my face.
Now I had an excuse to meet her eyes, and my skin turned from sunburned to crispy. I like to think I'm pretty good at not blushing, but I'm sure my ability failed me at that moment.
She had a round face framed by glossy blonde hair turned inward, highlights glowing under the bar's lighting. Her lips were a bright red, eyelashes dark, blue eyes emphasized with a bluish tint to her eyeshadow, brows detailed with a narrow pencil. She wore a one-shoulder candy apple dress, revealing a tasteful but not entirely modest amount of her left breast. Marc gave her name, but I lost it in the distraction of the thoughts intruding on my brain. Naughty thoughts, obviously. Her grin remained warm and amused as I tried to blink myself back to reality.
Generally, I'm great with names and job descriptions, and I did manage to rally with further introductions, so when we were finished, the blonde was the only one whose name I hadn't caught. Embarrassing. Fortunately, as conversation picked up, I heard the woman from the surgical center address her as Shannon. From what they were saying, I gleaned that she represented another of the center's vendors.
"Do you work with Marc, Shannon?" I asked, during a lull in conversation.
She shook her head. "I work in surgical robotics. The only imaging I deal with is the real-time video presented to the surgeon. Entirely conventional optics."
"Very small optics, I'd guess," I offered.
"Well, yes, there's that," Shannon agreed, "but only light. What about you?"
I gave her a very quick rundown of our product line, and how it differed from Marc's, but without denigrating Marc's company's equipment any further, and only at a superficial level. I wasn't trying to sell to her.
Well, I wasn't trying to sell medical equipment to her.
Shannon appeared interested in what I was saying. Her eyes didn't leave mine, and that far-too-sexy smile remained on her lips. At one point she picked up her drink. I noticed a gold ring on the third finger of her left hand.
Well, crap.
I lingered over my drink. I wanted to relax before dinner, but I also wanted to be in complete control. When my glass was empty I checked my watch and made my apologies. "I need to head out. I'm meeting a client. I'll be back later, but it'll be at least two hours. If anyone is still here, I'll buy a round of drinks."
"There'll be dancing by then, since you're a fan," suggested Shannon.
I chuckled and nodded.
Dinner was two and a half hours of careful dialogue. Almost as stressful as the presentation had been. I'm certain that the meal was delicious, but if I tasted it at all, I don't recall.
I returned to the bar still tense. The pair from the surgery center had left the table. Marc was still present, a little glassy-eyed, though it seemed more like he was also stretched thin than excess consumption. The chair Marc had wedged into the arrangement for me must have been recovered by another table, so I took a seat next to Marc where the surgery administrator had been.
There was no sign of the blonde with piercing blue eyes in the sexy red dress.
"I should have left an hour ago," said Marc, "but I couldn't let you get out of paying for a drink."
"But you will leave after this, so you don't have to reciprocate," I suggested.
"Hell, yes," he replied.
I flagged a waitress, handing her my credit card as everyone else at the table ordered. I took another paloma. There'd been enough wine over the past couple of hours that I was probably about as tipsy as most of the table. I was giving Marc a sanitized rundown of dinner conversations when the waitress returned. She delivered my drink last.
I talked with Marc and Erika. We didn't even touch on work directly. Just the social atmosphere of the convention and recent shows. Marc congratulated me on what he considered a good presentation, and agreed that he wouldn't want to have faced the ire of the radiologists I'd had to handle politely.
There was a growing ache in my belly that was my disappointment at missing Shannon. There was immense relief flooding through me, too. I couldn't do what I wanted with her, so it was good that I didn't have to make that choice. That didn't stop me regretting that I couldn't see her; couldn't speak to her; couldn't... couldn't do what I couldn't do with her.
Of course I didn't even know whether she wanted that from me. She was clearly a practiced flirt. In two hours she'd probably found someone more suitable to take to her room. Someone else - someone not me was probably right now sliding that red dress off her body... God, what was going on with my thoughts? It was a single missed opportunity, that I wouldn't have taken anyway.
I was almost done with my drink when a body whooshed down into the chair beside me, and a finger stroked the back of my wrist.
"Where's my drink?" asked Shannon.
More than a half hour of frustration instantly transmuted into want. I met her amused eyes, the corners of her red lips quirking upward.
"Oh!" I said, trying hard not to let my face betray the emotion her sudden presence had stirred. "I thought you'd left for the night."
"God, no," she said, raising a hand for the waitress. "You promised me a dance." Her thighs were brushing mine, and the finger she'd used to touch my hand was still very close. There was a faint redolence in the air. An outdoor woodsy scent, more noticeable when I turned my head in her direction. Her proximity was intoxicating me more than the drink.
"I... don't think I did," I said. "I think I only said I'd like to dance."
"But you will," she said, with confidence. She must have read one of the sales treatises on reading body language, because, yes, I would.
The waitress arrived. Shannon indicated my glass for another of the same. "Who else is drinking?" she asked.
Marc shook his head. "This is my limit," he said, everyone else at the table making similar sounds.
"Same again for you?" the waitress asked, and Shannon nodded, returning her smile.
"I followed the administrators when they left," Shannon said. "I didn't think they'd keep me for so long. I almost missed you."
"That would have been sad for you," I said.
"Yes," she said, her eyes flicking down from my face for an almost imperceptible interval. "Yes, I think it would."
The waitress returned with our drinks. I immediately took a sip of mine, to cover my giddiness.
"What is that?" Shannon asked.
"It's a..." I stopped myself from answering. "Would you like to try to figure it out?" I asked, with a quick smile. "Are you allergic to anything?"
Shaking her head, she picked up my drink, holding it to her nose. "There's grapefruit," she said. "I'm not sure. The grapefruit is overwhelming the alcohol. There is alcohol?" she asked.
"Yeah," I replied. "Taste it."
She took a small sip. "Oh, that's nice," she said, taking a larger one. "I think I'm keeping this."
"If you like," I said. "I can get another."
Shannon shook her head once. "I'll give it back, but let me taste it once more." After she'd done so, she said, "Grapefruit, obviously. Tequila? The grapefruit scent might be overwhelming but the taste isn't. The tartness is perfect. Maybe lime in there? Tequila gives lime purpose. Especially for body shots." Her smirk wasn't quite a leer, but it hinted at mischief. "And there's something slightly fizzy and sweet."
"You're pretty close," I said. "It's mezcal, pink grapefruit juice, lime, and I think grapefruit soda. Mezcal paloma."
She pushed the glass back to me. She'd left a sharp red print on the glass. She must have refreshed her lipstick. When I took a sip I left a much duller mark.
"I will definitely add mezcal paloma to my list of healthy fruit drinks." She touched the stem of her own glass. "Have you tried pear martini?"
I shook my head and tasted her drink. "Mmm, that's nice. Light, but with a kick, and thick enough that you won't feel the need to toss it back - unless you've had a day like mine, today. I think it would work for body shots, too."
Shannon shook her head in denial. "No salt."
"Fair point," I said. "I guess my mind was on belly shots. No salt needed."
"It was?" Shannon's eyebrows rose. "Hmm."
My face felt warm again. Her blue-eyed gaze seemed to do that to me. I turned to see Marc standing, the rest of the table following his lead. He grinned at me before saying goodnight. I was sure from his amused expression that he'd picked up on all the nuances of my conversation with Shannon.
After the others had left the table, Shannon reached out to tap her fingernail against my glass. Her arm pressed against mine, even though every other chair at our table was empty. "You're still wound up," she said. "Drink up, then we'll dance."
The soporific effects of the alcohol helped me to relax. I was a little tired, but the effort had been mental, not physical, and Shannon was an interesting companion. I found myself sufficiently involved in our conversation that I didn't need to call it a day.
It wasn't surprising that we'd never encountered each other before. Comparing our travel schedules, we'd attended the same medical conferences eight times just over the past year. But they were always big affairs, and the time spent with clients outside scheduled events was unpredictable, and limited social interactions. If Shannon and Marc hadn't shared the same client, I wouldn't have met her today.
As soon as I set down my empty glass, Shannon stood. "Ready?" she asked.
"I guess," I agreed.
I followed her to the small dance floor. There were a few people still dancing. The area had been much more crowded when I'd returned from dinner. But as late as it was, most of the songs were slow. If she'd been present when I returned from dinner, I could have lived up to my imagined commitment then, when the music was more energetic, but wedding ring or not, I wasn't going to pass up the chance to dance with this stunning woman.
After we'd danced apart for a couple of songs, Shannon moved close, resting her hands on my hips and moving me steadily closer. I couldn't help leaning into her. Resting my chin on her shoulder was relaxing.
Lips close beside my ear whispered, "I love a woman in a suit."
I was wearing a burgundy double-breasted blazer held by a single button, with a wide curved black-trimmed layered hem and matching pencil skirt.
"Oh yeah?" I replied. "Which one?"
Shannon just chuckled. We were the same height, and the way her breasts pressed against mine made me wish I was wearing something softer than the blazer. Still, the small movements of her body against mine had aphrodisiac properties. Dancing with her was overcoming the relaxation of the last couple of drinks, but it wasn't bringing back my tension or exhaustion. On the contrary, I felt that I could slide my body against hers for hours.
Then her lips touched the base of my neck. Goosebumps rose on my arms, and I felt my nipples swell within my black cami. My heart rate picked up, and I held her closer. After a while I whispered, "Are you leaving lip prints on my shoulder?"
Shannon leaned her head back. "I might be," she admitted. "Maybe I should keep them to a place that's already red."
I drew my face back to give her a puzzled look, and she followed me, catching my upper lip between her teeth, holding it in place as she rubbed her tongue along it, lips closing over it.
Groaning, I squeezed my thighs together against the rush of wetness. I returned the kiss, softly, my pulse racing. She drove my arousal sky-high, then whispered, "There's wine in my minibar."
I shook my head, causing an immediate frown on Shannon's face. Gruffly, I whispered, "No - but you have bottled water?"
Shannon grinned. "Of course." She led me back to the table to collect our purses, then to the elevator. Her ring had become less of an encumbrance when we moved to the dance floor, and had vanished completely as a factor when her lips had touched my shoulder. I was hers.
As offered, in her room, Shannon extracted two bottles of water from the fridge. She broke the seal on one, then handed it to me. I nodded thanks. Before she opened her own bottle, she kicked off her heels.
I followed suit, then moaned with relief. Shannon gave me a quick grin. "Sounds like you're having far too much fun taking your shoes off."
"Release from pain is not the same as pleasure," I groaned. "Now, are you going to kiss me again?"
"I'm thinking about it," she said, then swallowed half of her water bottle. After I did the same, she plucked the bottle out of my hand and set it aside, before taking the hem of my blazer and tugging me close. I melted into her as she suckled my upper lip. The gentle but demanding movement of her lips and tongue against my lip soon had me moaning again.
Our heels must have been the same size, because she was again exactly the same height as me, as close as I could tell. I unbuttoned my blazer, letting it fall wide open, her dress meeting my cami. My nipples hardened as her dress fabric caused the silk to slide against them. My breathing was ragged when I broke my mouth from hers, moving my lips to her neck.
"You may be the best kisser I've ever experienced," I murmured. "Please undress me."
I heard Shannon's breath catch. Maybe she wasn't in such perfect control as she seemed. I drew my teeth over the side of her neck as I felt her nod in agreement. She slid my blazer down my arms, catching it before it fell to lay it carefully over the back of a chair.
Soon my skirt was falling from my hips to be laid over the blazer, leaving me in the silk cami and hose. Her mouth recaptured mine, her kiss more intense but no less arousing.
Her hands moved over my cami. She made a pleased hum when she found no bra beneath it, and I was so turned on by this point that a light touch on my nipple flooded my panties. I linked my fingers behind her neck, pulling her face hard against mine, returning her kiss savagely.
Gasping when she pinched my nipples, I dropped my hands to the back of her dress, hunting for a zipper. Not finding one, I pushed the single strap over her right shoulder, then tugged the dress down. It fell to the floor with little encouragement; the narrow waist stretching gently over her hips, revealing a red thong and thigh-high self-supporting stockings.
Breaking the kiss, I lowered my face Shannon's full breasts, wide, pale nipples already firm with her desire. She dug her fingers into my dark hair. When my updo resisted, she pulled it out forcefully, dragging my face from her breasts a couple of times, making me wince, until she could freely run her hands through my hair.
Even while unfastening my hair, the small sounds she made built in volume and desperation. After she'd scratched the back of my neck for a time, I felt her hands migrate to my waist. Gathering my cami in her fingers she yanked it upward. I raised my arms to let her pull it off, then squeezed her butt with one hand as I pushed her thong aside with the other.
"God, I want you," she groaned.
"I can tell," I murmured around her breast. "You are so fucking wet."
Sliding a finger into her, I felt around, twisting my hand against her pussy. Her moans grew more intense. Her butt clenched as she thrust against my hand. I could tell from the way she was gasping and the twitching of her thighs that she was on the point of coming. "On the bed," I panted, withdrawing, and yanking down my hose and panties, dropping them on the same chair as my suit, while Shannon left her dress on the floor where it had fallen.
Shannon began to slide her panties off, but I waved and shook my head. I perched on the bed beside her and began to slide her right stocking off, ensuring that my nails scratched against her thigh as I slowly drew it down. Her breath caught several times as my nails ran over her sensitive skin.
I gave her thong the same treatment, before leaving the bed to set all three garments on the seat of the room's other chair.
Squatting between her legs, I ran my lips, tongue and teeth over her inner thighs. As aroused as she was, she squirmed on the bed whenever my teeth scratched her skin. When I was getting close to her sex, I slid a finger inside her, twisting it as I explored. Her back arched as I licked her pussy. She tasted of warm excitement, adding to my need to have her.
I replaced the finger with two, still licking, then with a third, which was tight within her and caused her to pant rapidly, her back rising from the bed.
After drawing the fingers of my free hand through Shannon's wetness I lightly touched her clit, circling. She was beyond ready to come. She needed more than I was giving her, but you can only make a first impression once, and I wanted her to ache for me, so, frustrating both of us, I eased off when she was getting too close.
"Fuuuck..." Shannon whined. Her hands had formed fists, gripping the bedsheets. When she tried to grasp her nipples, I moved my finger from her clit to push her hands aside, then left my hand in place on her breast, squeezing lightly.
Stiffening my tongue, I moved my face upward, then rotated my head to draw my tongue over her clit. Her hips jerked, then jerked again when I turned my head in the other direction.
Slowing the pace of my fingers, I looked up at Shannon. "Do you want me to suck?" I asked.
"Yes!" she yelped. "Christ, yes, this is torture!"
"Say please!" I insisted.
"Please! Please! Kathryn, you're driving me crazy!"
"I know," I said, then indulged her. Pumping my fingers inside her rapidly, I pinched her nipple hard and began to lap firmly at her clit. She survived maybe a full minute before moaning loudly, her whole body twisting. She cried out as she came, then grabbed a pillow to hold over her face as her belly twitched firmly with the spasms of her orgasm.
I didn't stop. I didn't know if she'd be able to come again, or even to tolerate my tongue after that explosion, but it was worth a try, so I continued to lick.
Within a couple of minutes, she was holding the pillow over her face again as she came hard beneath my tongue. Then she reached down to tug on my hair, forcing me to stop.
"Oh, my God," she murmured, as she settled to the bed. "I knew I wanted you as soon as you sat at the table, but really, I had no idea."
"Come on," I said, with a grin, stretching out along her body. "I'm guessing you have a woman at every conference. I can't imagine you want for sex."
"Well, maybe," she said, as I kissed her neck, "but having ordinary casual sex compared to what you just did to me is like going from riding pillion to riding a mechanical bull. And how are you already getting me horny again?"
"Because bulls have horns?" I knew it was lame, but it seemed funny at the time. Given how Shannon quaked beneath me, she seemed to think so, too. "No, wait! You mean this is your first rodeo?"
"Oh, shaddup," Shannon said. Tangling her fingers into my hair, she dragged my face to hers, and we spent several minutes trying to eat each other's tongue. The feel of her breasts against mine was delicious.
Shannon unceremoniously dumped me to the bed by rolling over. "Face down," she instructed. When I obliged, she parted my legs and pressed her fingers into my sex from behind. "Wish I'd brought a strap-on," she commented.
"That would be nice," I agreed, panting, "but what you're doing now is better than good."
"So do you have a woman at every meeting?" she asked. "Or a man, maybe?"
I shook my head. "No men, ever," I said. "I'm not made that way." I moaned as my excitement built. "And maybe a couple of girls, but far from every time. My gaydar isn't good. Getting laid shouldn't need the skills of a diplomat. Even when you were coming onto me I didn't know if... Oh, Jesus." I lost the thread of my lecture as her fingers drove thoughts from my mind.
Shannon's left hand sneaked around my chest to cup my left breast. I groaned, then hoarsely told her "Come here!"
She lowered herself onto my back, her face as close to mine as her fingers thrusting into my sex allowed. I managed to turn my head far enough that our mouths could join, and she kissed me ferociously as I started to gasp. My face continued to press against hers as I crested, only breaking from her when I couldn't maintain the effort as the quivering of my climax subsided.
After giving me a moment to rest, Shannon rolled me onto my back, then lay down, intertwining her legs with mine. We kissed as our hands explored, our bodies rocking together slowly for at least ten minutes, before our mutual need forced our movement into high gear. Our arms held our bodies tethered, her breasts squashing mine to my chest, lips joined as we rolled together in mutual orgasm.
I came close to dozing off before pushing myself off the bed. "I should make my walk of shame now, while I'm less likely to meet clients," I said.
Shannon sighed in disappointment, but nodded. She came around the bed to pick up her dress and hang it. I stared at my bundle of hose and panties. I really didn't want to work my way into them for a short elevator ride. Intuiting my issue, Shannon opened the clothes closet, collecting one of the hotel laundry bags from a shelf. "Use this," she said.
I gave her a grateful nod, shoving my underwear into the bag, then slipped my cami on and stepped into my skirt. I wore my blazer, but didn't fasten it, collecting my purse, laundry bag and shoes to carry to my room. Shannon wrapped her arms around me before I could turn to leave. After kissing me for long enough to make me breathless, she whispered, "Thank you. You're wonderful."
"Thank you," I replied, then moved to the door. Shannon turned the handle, then stood back out of sight as I pushed the door open. I turned back for one final look at her delicious nude body before passing through the door and letting it close.
There was enough of the night left to get some sleep, but not enough to be fully refreshed. I turned the water to cold before stepping out of the shower. My flight out was that afternoon, so I packed, taking my bags to my car before dropping the key card at the front desk.
I didn't have anything to present today. I'd insisted on avoiding leading a group on the day after my major presentation. I'd planned better than I'd thought, not knowing that I'd be having enthusiastic sex for much of the night. I had considered contacting Shannon and asking if we might extend our stay for another night, but as soon as I did, I saw her ring-wearing finger in my mind, and felt mildly disgusted with myself for having the best sex of my life with a married woman.
She caught me after my group. She must have checked the itinerary and recognized which I'd be attending. I found her waiting outside the conference room.
"Want to get together later?" she asked.
"Can't," I said. "I'm leaving for the airport now."
Shannon pouted, then raised her eyebrows. "Dallas, next month?"
"I'll be there," I said.
"Then I'll catch you there," she said, with a grin.
My feelings over the next month were mixed. I was annoyed with myself for spending the night with a married woman. Even though that was more Shannon's problem than mine. On the other hand, I couldn't help daydreaming about the best sex I'd ever had with a partner I'd connected with at every level, and who would be expecting to reconnect at the next convention.
I mustn't let that happen. But I kept trying to give myself excuses so that it could happen anyway.
The airport was, as usual, insanely hot. I was traveling in tee shirt and jeans, my suits safely packed in my case, along with dresses for the evenings. Fortunately, the convention center was near the airport, rather than the city of Dallas. The bus to the event was both air-conditioned and mercifully short.
I was arriving the day before the conference. Others of my company's team had probably been constructing and testing our travelling event booth all day. I took a long bath, still leaving myself plenty of time to prepare before changing into a lightweight burgundy summer dress.
I'd arranged to meet the rest of the team at the Tex Mex restaurant at the center. They'd chosen to sit outside, which didn't thrill me, but the day had cooled off significantly, and table umbrellas and misters made the early evening tolerable. I ordered a mojito, and fish tacos with guacamole.
The preparations for tomorrow's convention had gone well, and all the equipment was tested and functional. After we'd talked a little about logistics, we drifted into gossip about the state of the company, country and world.
I was leaning back with my empty plate before me when I noticed Sergiy, the other sales rep, giving a curious look over my shoulder. I was about to turn around when warm breath tickled my neck, making me shiver.
"Want to blow this joint?"
Shannon was leaning down, her lips close to my ear. Her dress was a different shade of red, a little darker, a little more subdued, and with wide straps at both shoulders. The square neckline was not too revealing, except that at this angle I could see straight down her cleavage. I was pretty sure she'd intended the view.
"Give me a minute," I said to Shannon. I was both excited and nervous. I wanted what she wanted, but I was going to have to turn her down. "Let me introduce you to our crew, then we'll talk."
Standing, rather than asking her to sit, I introduced her as a friend, then gave her the names and roles of each of the crew. Shannon reached over the table to shake everyone's hand.
"Sergiy, are you okay taking care of the meal?" I asked, since I didn't want to wait for the check.
"Of course," he said.
Nodding thanks, I took Shannon's arm and steered her close to one of the misters.
In a lowered voice, but with a mischievous grin, Shannon said. "I brought what we need to test your idea."
"My idea?" I asked, having no clue what she was meaning.
"Martini belly shots."
"Oh, God," I said, with a shudder, as a spike of arousal shot through me. "I... I don't think that would be a good idea."
"Why not?" Shannon's expression was hurt.
"Listen, San Diego was incredible," I said. "I've never had a partner, much less a casual partner, do what you did to me. But there's..." I stared at her left hand.
Shannon followed my gaze, frowning. Then her eyebrows rose. "This?" She slipped the ring off her finger far too easily. Without warning, she tossed it into the air. "Catch."
Thinking how strange it was to treat a wedding ring so casually, I managed to pluck it out of the air. Then I frowned. "It feels.... wrong," I said.
"Not heavy enough," Shannon agreed. "Don't handle it too roughly, I wouldn't want to wear the gold plating off."
"Plating?" I looked at the ring closely. "It isn't gold?"
"It isn't gold 'cause it isn't real," she said. "Or it's real gold-plated stainless steel costume jewelry." She looked up at me, amusement in her eyes. "You thought I was married? I guess it served its purpose, if not for the right target." She took the ring back from me and slipped it onto her finger. "How many times do you get hit on at conferences?" she asked. "It has to be at least five times per day."
"Uh, maybe not so often," I said. "Then again, maybe. I don't keep count. I'm good at turning them down."
"Yeah, but there are some real assholes in our business," she said. "The ring cuts down on the need. Though the worst of them, the most belligerent, ignore it." She shrugged. "Not disappointing potential clients with whom you wouldn't otherwise have a problem is still worth the deception."
I scowled, then hissed, "I have been - not your fault, not your fault, but - I have been feeling so fucking guilty for this past month. Both because I slept with a married woman and because I want to do it again."
"Fair to say that you're reconsidering your stance on belly shots?" Shannon asked.
"Lead on," I said.
She took my arm as we walked. Just two friends together. I nodded to the team as we passed their table. When we were partway to the elevators, Shannon murmured, "I brought a board game you might like to play, too."
"A board game?" That seemed a strange non-erotic pastime after what we'd been considering.
"Yah," she replied. "Except that it's a board game without a board, or rules, or a game at all. Just the playing piece. And we're guaranteed to win."
I thought about that for several seconds, then stumbled as the meaning hit. Shannon's grip on my arm prevented a fall. "This piece, would it be made of silicone?"
"And leather," she agreed, with an innocent smile. "You did say it would be nice if I brought one."
"Jesus, Shannon, you're going to make me come before we even get to your room."
"That would be a waste," she agreed. "But fun. I think I'd just like to suck cocktails from your skin, today, and keep the toy for tomorrow. Unless you're going to bow out early again?"
I shook my head. After her Big Reveal, there was no reason to avoid her.
We arrived at Shannon's room without my libido overloading, though my panties being wet seemed like a permanent hazard of being around this incredibly sexy woman. We'd stopped at my room to pick up my suit for tomorrow. Just in case I didn't leave in time to avoid a walk of shame. I left my computer bag and papers. I could pick them up without comment when I was in my business attire.
After I'd hung my suit in her closet, I turned to find Shannon was only inches from me, startling me.
"Jumpy?" she asked.
"You snuck up on me," I protested.
"I just came to help you out of your dress," she said.
"How kind," I said, sarcastically. "Do I get to help you too?" I asked as she began to unzip my dress.
"You could, or you can watch," she answered with a wicked grin.
I stepped out of the dress, then hung it up before peeling off my hose, leaving me in black panties and nude strapless bra.
Shannon took a couple of steps from me and unzipped her own dress. She held my eyes as she began to slide the straps down her arms. I glanced down as she slowly revealed the pale demi bra, then the expanse of smooth skin down to her low thong. Again, she wore the self-supporting stockings, and she didn't take them off, though she did step out of her heels. My desire for her continued to rise. I let her hang the dress, then stepped into her space, my bra molded against hers as I held her waist and pressed my lips to hers.
As before, her kiss was both gentle and searing. She had perfect control of her tongue against my upper lip as she leaned into me. The way this woman turned me on was unfair. I didn't feel that I had a fraction of her seductive skills, yet she seemed as much in lust with me as I was with her.
My nipples were aching within the confines of my bra as we separated. She opened the fridge, taking out a bottle of vodka and a bottle of mix with an image of a pear on the front.
"I tried to get pear vodka," she said. "You know, I had to drive to a different town just to buy spirits? But no pear vodka, so this is plain. At least I didn't pay minibar prices for it, and I think the mix will cover for the flavor."
She took a shiny metal jigger from her suitcase, closing the lid after removing it.
"Keeping the playing piece hidden, I see," I commented.
"I don't want to get distracted," Shannon stated. She consulted the pear bottle before measuring several shots' worth of mixture into a hotel glass. Opening the vodka bottle, she again measured out several shots into the glass. Finally, she added as much ice as there was space available in the glass, stirring the concoction with a plastic spoon. The mixture looked about as cloudy as her drink had the last time I'd seen her.
Taking the jigger, she poured a small amount of the cocktail into it, carefully avoiding including ice, then tasted it.
"Hmm. It's not bad. Pretty close, really."
She handed me the jigger. I took a sip and agreed that it would work.
"Since this was your idea, you can take the first drink," Shannon said, refilling the jigger and handing it to me, then lying down close to the side of the bed.
The jigger felt icy in my hand. I trickled a little into Shannon's navel. She squeaked, her belly tensing. "That's cold!"
"I'll warm it up," I said, setting the jigger down and slurping the cocktail from her body. "It doesn't seem cold to me," I said. "It burns my throat."
"Well, yeah, I get the ice, you get the fire," she said.
"Never thought of you as an ice queen," I said, tipping more of the icy drink into her navel, then lowering my mouth to it again. Her breathing took on the sound of sharp exhalations as I dragged my teeth over her skin. I wanted to explore further, but I'd be taking more shots.
There was still a little martini left in the glass. I glanced over Shannon's body, deciding that her collar bones were sharp enough to form a barrier, so I tentatively poured a small stream of the spirit just above her breast. When it didn't run far, I repeated the action on the other side, emptying the jigger, then lowered my face to her chest and licked along her collar bones, kissing the damp skin, my teeth grazing the very edge of the swell of her breasts.
Taking a look into the jigger I thought I might be able to squeeze another drop out of it, so I turned it upside down over her neck. I almost gave up waiting, but finally one more drop dripped onto the side of her neck, and I sucked it up with a kiss. I grinned at her before drawing back. Her eyes were dark with lust. "Your turn," I said.
Shannon stood, and I lay down as she poured more cocktail into the jigger, this time holding the ice back with the spoon. "Face down," she said.
"You always want me face down," I griped.
"Eh, no," she said, "but for some things, yes."
The cold spilling into the small of my back made me gasp. Then Shannon leaned over and began to lick. She didn't confine her attention to the puddle of vodka. Her tongue dragged the liquid down my back, while her fingers squeezed my ass, then tugged my panties down slightly, allowing her teeth to graze the base of my spine.
When she dumped the remainder of the cocktail onto my back, she unlatched my bra, spreading the straps as she kissed the entirety of my bare back, ending up nibbling at the back of my neck. I was so turned on by her touch that I was involuntarily beginning to hump the bed. My breathing was ragged when she set the jigger down.
Politely, she refastened my bra before letting me roll off the bed.
For my next turn, I suckled her navel again, extracting the pear-flavored drink I'd poured there, but while I did I ran my fingers down and over her damp thong, which became even more damp as I traced her folds, pushing the fabric slightly into her. For the remainder of the drink, I moved back to her collarbones, but this time I slipped her bra straps over her shoulders, and drew them down enough to expose her already firm pale nipples.
Flicking my tongue through the puddle on her chest, I moved down to lick her nipples. Shannon panted softly.
"I'm warming up the drink too much," I complained. "I should do something about that."
Shannon eyed me curiously as I grabbed a piece of ice from the hotel glass. Taking it into my mouth, I let it melt just enough to make my lips icy, then I pressed my face into her breast, parting my lips carefully to avoid spraying her with ice water, instead freezing her nipple with my cold lips and tongue.
Shannon grunted in discomfort, but her breathing was rapid. I rested my hand on her belly, feeling her muscles squirm beneath it.
"I think that's cheating," came her husky voice when I switched breasts. Instantly her nipple became as rock solid as the first, and she moaned.
Drinking the rest of the shot straight from the jigger, I instructed her to sit. When she did, I unclasped her bra and drew it down her arms. "Don't want to get this wet, do we?"
"Yeah, that's the reason for taking it off," she rasped, stepping out of bed to prepare the next shot. "But I can follow your rules. On your back this time."
Complying, I lay on my back. Shannon collected her bra, which I'd dropped on the bed, then draped it over my eyes. It wasn't a great blindfold; I could have tossed my head to free myself of it, but where would be the fun in that? I didn't have to wait long for the shock of cold, which made me shiver, but after it, I realized that the flood was spilling over, cold liquid drifting to my sides.
"Whoops," said Shannon, her tone completely unrepentant. "Guess I'd better get that." She set the jigger down, then leaned over me and licked my sides, progressing inward to my navel. I think a little of the drink landed on the comforter. I began to squirm as her lips travelled over every inch of skin, occasionally stopping to slurp at my navel.
"Hmm, did any travel south, I wonder?" murmured Shannon, kissing all the way down to my panties. "Probably not," she said, "but better safe than sorry." I felt her tug my panties down a couple of inches, her mouth following as the waistband lowered. Then her breath brushed my clit, and I struggled not to moan.
I felt the bed shift as Shannon stood, then her fingers drew the panties all the way down my legs. I thought I heard ice clinking in the glass, then a moment later the breath on my clit was chilly. I gasped at the sensation, then louder as her icy tongue touched my clit. She must have chilled her finger in her mouth, because it was cold when she slipped it into me. Her tongue lapped at my clit. It warmed as she worked, but then she'd pause, and the tongue would return freshly chilled.
For a time she was relentless, and I felt myself being driven towards climax. Then she stopped, withdrawing both hand and tongue. I did lift the bra from my face at that point to see what was up. Shannon had removed the ice cube, how much reduced in size, from her mouth, and was moving it down to my sex. Even knowing what was happening, I couldn't help but cry out when the surface of the ice stroked my sex.
Shannon circled the ice against my clit. The feeling was intense, but wasn't boosting my arousal. It was causing my thighs and stomach to clench, but I didn't feel like I was as ready to come as I had been moments earlier. After a couple of minutes, she moved the remains of the ice cube back from my clit. Without warning, I felt it slide into my sex, which tightened around it.
"Woah," I ground out. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"No," Shannon responded, calmly. She looked up at me. "Oh, you're peeking! It isn't dangerous when the ice is small and warm. Take off your bra."
Again, I did as I was told. Shannon grinned to see my erect nipples. "Touch your breasts," she instructed, then lowered her face to my sex. Her fingers slid into me, stretching the muscles that had clamped tightly around the ice, and her tongue was warm against my clit. I pinched my nipples, and suddenly it was like all of the arousal that had been held back by the ice circles Shannon made against me arrived at once.
I cried out, then took Shannon's example from last time and grabbed a pillow, holding it over my face with my right hand, while still squeezing my left breast. I was powerless to prevent my hips rising from the bed, bucking against her mouth until I came so hard that dizziness overwhelmed me. It was several seconds before I began to recover from the intense pleasure.
There didn't seem much point in resuming our game of belly shots at that point. We interspersed lovemaking with shots taken with the jigger from the glass Shannon had prepared. After the shots had made us both tipsy, I tried to persuade Shannon to let us play with the dildos and harness that she'd brought, but she insisted that she was saving them for the next day, to blackmail me into returning.
As if I would skip being in her bed tomorrow.
As if I could.
On the following day, Shannon had a symposium on women's orthopedic surgery, and while it wasn't a particular focus on my company, the practice did require imaging of many kinds, so I turned over our exhibit to Sergiy and spent a few hours learning about robotic surgery. Erika was there without Marc, so I sat with her. When the symposium was over, I exchanged a few words with my hot casual partner before leaving for dinner with the rest of my crew.
Unfortunately, Shannon had an evening event. There was no general meeting or reception, so I stayed in the bar with other attendees. Given what I had to look forward to, I avoided drinking too much. And after she had drawn my attention to the number of overtures I had to reject on a conference evening, I found myself getting more annoyed than usual. I needed a costume jewelry wedding ring.
Shannon texted me when her event was over. I texted her that I was going to get a quick shower in my room before coming to hers. She agreed that it would be a good idea, so I met her at her room half an hour later, in my tee shirt and jeans, wearing flats, carrying tomorrow's outfit.
"Bad day?" I asked.
"Worse," she agreed. "The shower helped."
"So, you're going to introduce me to the toy you brought?" I asked. "Playing piece, I mean."
"I can't really introduce you to it," Shannon retorted, "since it doesn't have a name." She opened her case and took a leather harness, and what seemed to be quite a wide dildo. "It's cleaned, sanitized and dried," she said, "and I really want to use it on you, but if you have any concerns, you're more than welcome to use it on me. Maybe we could both bring one to our next conference date. Which reminds me," she continued, checking the harness buckles, "I'm going to be out of the country for about three months. There's a manufacturer conference in Zurich, conferences in Munich and Paris, and since I'll be in Europe I'm going to spend time at head office in the UK."
"That sounds gruelling," I said.
"It's the hardest part of the year," she agreed.
"But French girls, right?" I said, watching her undress.
"I might have... met one or two," she admitted. "And there's a receptionist in the Bristol office I like to visit. Umm, does that bother you?"
I began to slip off my own clothes. "As good as we are together, it's purely physical, right? We're casual, not exclusive."
"Right," Shannon said. "Much as I'd like to sleep with you more than once in a blue moon, it's not on the cards. Casual it is. Now lie down."
As soon as I lay on my back, Shannon lowered herself onto me and began to suck my breasts.
"God, you do that so well," I groaned, as she tongued both nipples into erection, leaving them tingling and achingly sensitive. Even the movement of air over them turned me on. When she moved down to kiss my pussy, I pinched my nipples hard, making myself moan.
I could feel how wet I was even before Shannon began to tongue my sex. She looked up and grinned at me when she tasted me. But those magic kisses pushed my arousal into overdrive. I rocked my hips against her mouth, pleasuring myself on her tongue. At that point I didn't care about the dildo, named or not. I just wanted her to make me come.
Shannon had other ideas. She backed away and rolled me onto my left side. Taking a fingerful of lube, she coated my pussy with it, adding more to slide inside me with her finger. I enjoyed the feel of her finger exploring me, but she didn't leave it there for long.
Backing away, she lubed the dildo, then slid up against my back. She pushed my right leg forward to gain access to my sex, then curved the dildo into it, slowly pushing her hips forward to penetrate me. I gasped as the toy stretched me painfully as it drove inside.
I'd had sex with a strap-on before, but not often, and not with anyone who had Shannon's control. I panted as I felt the cock slowly parting my passage, making its way deeper. She withdrew to add more lube a couple of times, and as strained as my sex was around the toy, she didn't hurt me beyond the initial sting of stretching. Then she seemed comfortable with the depth, and began to pump her hips slowly, the cock sliding in and out.
Without withdrawing, she added a little more lube to the shaft, then her finger glided up to caress my clit. I moaned softly. Remembering the previous night, I ensured I had a pillow within reach.
The feel of Shannon's fake but very solid cock sliding in and out was amplified by the touch of her finger on my clit, the pressure of her breasts against my back, and the thrill of her lips on my neck. I turned my face back, then reached behind me, grabbing her hair, and pulling her face to mine. Her kiss was deeply passionate, and captured the sounds that were inadvertently slipping out of my throat.
Her hand left my clit, moving to my right breast. I wrapped my fingers around her wrist as she squeezed, firmly but slowly. I was drifting into a place of pure passion. God, when it came to my body, she understood exactly how to make me need her.
I tilted my pelvis to allow the cock easier access. The movement sent a thrill through my body, so I rocked back and did it again. The fire in my belly began to blaze out of control. I moaned strongly into the kiss.
Shannon drew back, disconnecting from me first at the lips, then pulling her hand back, and finally slipping out of me. I frowned in confusion.
"Face to face," she breathed, rolling me onto my back. She knelt between my legs, lowering herself carefully, parting my labia with her left hand as she held the cock in her right, feeding it into me. I was so wet now that it slid in easily, though I still caught my breath at the sensation of being opened up. Then she was easing herself down, until her breasts sandwiched mine, and her lips covered mine, our mouths recovering the passion of joining.
For several minutes we didn't move. I delighted in the feel of Shannon deep within me, her larger breasts engulfing mine, her tongue caressing mine. Eventually, she began to thrust against me, slowly at first, but with a steadily increasing rhythm. I matched her movements as she slammed into me.
As my cries became louder, I didn't need the pillow, our kiss absorbing the sounds we were both making.
And then I crested, my whole body quaking in the throes of climax.
The pulses within me began to fade. I didn't think Shannon was going to be able to come like this, and I was feeling drained from the energetic finale. I rolled her off me, onto her back, and unfastened the harness with unsteady hands. When I was done, I tossed it aside.
Flattening my fingers, I pressed them against her clit and circled rapidly. She was so wet that the motion was easy. As she started to cry out, I kissed her right breast, my mouth open wide as I sucked and nipped at every part of her silky skin, suckling her nipple occasionally before moving to other places on the soft mound.
Her thighs began to tense, and I saw her grip the comforter before her hips twisted upward as she came against my hand.
Shannon didn't need the pillow to control her cries this time, but her smile as she relaxed was beatific.
When her breathing slowed, I rolled onto my side to watch her, her perfect breasts rising and falling almost in a normal rhythm.
"I hate to say it, with as short a time as we'll have together," I said at last, "but I think that's all I'm up for tonight. It's late, and that was... energetic."
She rolled toward me and wrapped her arm around me. "We have two more days," she said. "It isn't as long as I'd like, but it's still time to make some mischief."
On the last morning of the conference, I woke disoriented, as I always do away from home. The sense of another presence was calming. I checked the clock, then stroked my friend's side. She was facing away from me. "Shannon, time to wake up," I said. "It's our last morning. If you want to shower together, we need to get started."
"Mmm, okay," she croaked. "Sleep or sex. Tough call, but I guess I can sleep tonight."
I kissed her neck, rubbing my chest against her back for encouragement. "Hey, Shannon?"
"Mmm?" she grunted.
"We may only get to sleep together once in a blue moon, but I have to say, I like waking up with you, too."
She rolled toward me, a big smile on her face. "Let's get that shower," she said.