At the Conventionbyclarkroberts©
I once heard that the real value of conventions comes from socializing. The attendees loosen up and bond with their colleagues in a more casual setting. I found this to be true at the last convention I attended.
My name is Chet. I'm forty-one, six-foot tall and fit with dark hair and eyes. I run the shipping department of my company in Chicago, where I've worked for the past ten years. I've been married to the same woman for twenty years. Our union produced two children, a boy and girl, both in their teens. I'm your typical white, middle-class suburbanite, in other words boring. All that changed at the convention where I met Whitney.
The first time I saw Whitney was at the pool of my Houston hotel. I needed to relax after my flight from Chicago and I had some time to kill before the evening's vendor's reception. I had swum the length of the pool a couple of times to unknot my muscles. I was just floating relaxing when this short, stacked, bubble-butted blonde plunged from the diving board.
She glided half-way across the pool before breaking the surface. Using a powerful breast-stroke she swum to the swallow end of the pool and used the steps to emerge gracefully from the pool. The blue material of her swimsuit had invaded the crack of her ass. She slipped her index fingers into the leg holes of her bikini running her fingers along her butt checks she pressed the material out of her ass in a very lady like fashion.
Drifting in the water I smiled content to watch the show.
She smiled back at me as she leaned over a chaise lounge chair picking up a towel. She rapidly shook her wet head, slinging big drops of water across the cement deck. As she patted herself dry sunlight reflected off her wedding ring. The blue bikini brought out the blue in her eyes which cast a sultry simmer. It was when she daintily sat down on the lounge that I noticed she had some kind of tattoo on her breast emerging from the bikini top. Her nipples were hard and tented the bikini's material. Keenly aware that she had the attention of every male around the pool she basked in our attentiveness as much as she did the sun's warmth.
My cock became erect as I observed the radiant beauty of the blonde, thankfully it was hidden beneath the surface of the water. Unfortunately, my cell phone rang. It was on the lounge right next to the blonde beauty.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, wading to the shallow-end steps.
Just as I was about to leave the security of the pool and reveal my excitement to the world, the blonde beauty handed me the phone. Blushing like a teenager I gushed my thanks and flipped open the phone.
"You're welcome." She silently mouthed. Then gathered her things and slipped into a pair of wedged sandals that furthered emphasized her sexy bubble butt. She headed inside the hotel.
Before she left I noticed the wet bikini material clinging to her labia in a well-defined camel-toe. I wondered about the pleasurable delights that were hidden beneath the thin strip of cloth. As she walked away I watched the rise and fall of her buttocks with each sideways sway of her hips. The blue material inched back into her crack causing her sexy cheeks to peek out from the underside of her bikini. I couldn't believe I could get so hard by simply watching a woman walk away.
The voice screaming in my ear brought me back to reality, "Sorry Honey, bad connection. What did you say?"
It didn't take long to lose my erection with my wife shrieking in my ear. I apologized for not calling to inform her I had arrived in Houston safely and reminded her that my presence at convention events was part of my job. In fact, the vendor's reception was the first such event and was to be held in one of the hotel's ballrooms in an hour. I snapped the phone shut and got out of the pool heading to my room.
I jumped into the shower and as steam filled the bathroom my mind went into full blown fantasy mode. My cock hardened to the point of pain and I began to stroke my cock with vigor. I imagined the blonde beauty joining me in the shower. In my imagination her nipples stood at rigid attention as she stepped into the shower. I pulled her into a kiss and our tongues wrestled. I broke our kiss and lathered her bodacious breasts gently pinching her nipples until she squealed with delight.
A mental imagine of the blonde beauty turning around and grasping the shower-head while rising up on her tip-toes. Pushing her cute bubble butt at me she looked over her shoulder and coyly said, "Want to fuck me?"
I stroked my hard cock vigorously as I imagined the blonde beauty slowly guiding my cock into her wet wanton cunt. Then I visualized the way she would look as she took the initiative and began to piston rapidly up and down on my hard cock. As her passion built she picked up speed until her breasts bounced to and fro with fevered fervor. The image burned through my brain as my testicles tightened. Cum spurted in thick ropes of release from my throbbing cock. My eyes rolled back in my head and flashes of white rocketed through my brain while blood roared in my ears. I hissed with release as spurts of pleasure shot from my cock. My whole body trembled and I shook my head from side to side. I grabbed the showerhead like it was a life line. The last thing I needed was to get hurt by falling in the shower while jerking off.
The ballroom was crowded with conventioneers and vendors. Their conversations produced a dull roar as they made new acquaintances and renewed old ones. After slapping a name tag on my white polo shirt I made my way to the bar snagging an appetizer from a passing waiter. I ordered a beer from the bartender and after contributing to his tip jar I helped myself to a plate of nachos. I sipped beer from the longneck bottle and ate the corn chips smothered with refried beans, cooked beef, onion, and cheddar cheese. Spotting a vendor who called on my company I joined his little group. As we talked business I caught sight of the blonde from the pool. As she walked by our little network our conversation died and our attention focused on her.
She was wearing white linen pants that showed all the right curves in all the right places. The seam of her pants casually crept into the crevice of her cunt producing a captivating camel-toe. The linen's sheerness revealed her white thong and buttocks. If you looked hard enough you could make out the image of a tattoo on her left cheek. Noting our awareness she put a little extra wiggle into her walk.
Her top was a sophisticated and elegant cobalt silk blouse. The blue color highlighted her blue eyes which sparkled with delight at the male attention she was receiving. It was sleeveless with a surplice v-neckline that emphasized her ample cleavage. Her nipples tented the silk weave of the blouse with polished perfection and left little doubt she was braless. With a knowing discernment she placed a name tag sticker where it was mostly likely to be seen, on her silk-covered left breast. It read, "Hello, My Name is Whitney."
I lost sight of her as she disappeared into the crowd. Excusing myself from the group I made my way back to the bar. Before I got to it I spotted Whitney, she had been cornered by a couple of middle-aged businessmen. One was fat and the other was bald and both of them talked to her big breasts neither looking into her face. I shot her a grin as I made my way past them.
She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows pleading for rescue.
I elbowed my way in between the men and said, "Whitney, I've been looking all over for you. The boss needs you right away."
"Thanks, Chet," she said, glancing at my name tag. Then to the men she added, "Please excuse me."
Following behind her I became mesmerized by the oscillation of her buttocks. I would have followed her to the ends of the earth but she only went as far as the bar. I was so engrossed studying her ass trying to make out the image of the tattoo on her left butt cheek that I didn't notice she had stopped walking. I bumped right into her and my cock naturally found its way into the crack of her ass.
"Oof," she gasped.
"Sorry," I muttered my face flushed with embarrassment.
She smiled at my teenage-like angst and bought me a beer. She ordered a wine cooler for herself. Handing me the longneck she said, "Thanks for rescuing me from Chubby and Curly. My name's Whitney Lewis."
I shook her proffered hand, noting her manicured and painted nails. I replied, "Chet Reynolds. I'm sorry I almost knocked you down. In my defense I was trying to make out the tattoo on your lovely derriere."
"It's the logo of my company and thanks for noticing," she laughed and handed me her business card. She pulled the neckline of her top to give me a glimpse adding "I have a matching one on my right breast."
I looked at her breast and then at her card, the logo images where the same. I said, "Wow, you're one dedicated employee."
"There just temporary tattoos, they'll come off with baby oil."
I took a sip of beer and asked, "Why do it?"
"You know as well as me, that sex sells. My company has a booth in the exhibit hall so I thought maybe a little T & A advertising tonight might increase the traffic to our booth tomorrow. You should have seen my boss's reaction when I presented the idea to him. I thought he was going to jizz in his trousers."
"I just bet he did," I affirmed then laughed.
Flushed with delight she gushed, "I like playing the bad girl for a change."
We sipped from our bottles and talked. I learned she was from Los Angles and that she was in her mid-thirties, just getting back into the workforce after doing a stint as a stay-at-home mom. She had two girls, who were now eight and ten. Showing me pictures of her girls from her smartphone, she explained that her children were staying with her parents so she could come to the convention. Since the girls were out of school for the summer there was no way her car salesman husband, Mitch, could care for them.
Suddenly, Whitney said, "I like you Chet."
"Why's that?" I smirked, thinking she was teasing me.
She looked straight into my eyes and replied, "Because you talk to me not just to my tits"
"I like you, too, Whitney. You're fun to be around."
As if to prove her point an acquaintance of my joined us, I watched them exchange banter and noticed that his eyes seldom rose any higher than Whitney's bosom. Since he was taller than her, he spent much of the conversation peeping down her top. No doubt he spotted the logo. It sure pays to advertise. After ogling her a few more minutes he left us.
Saying she had to circulate through the crowd she excused herself but asked if I would meet her for breakfast in morning. She kissed my cheek and whispered, "See you then."
I left the reception and went up to my room. I called my wife to say goodnight then went to bed. My mind raced with images of Whitney and the emotions she stirred. On the one hand I was happily married, and even though my wife had let herself go these past few years I didn't want to risk the twenty years I had invested in the marriage. On the other hand, Whitney was a beautiful woman that roused desires in me that I thought had long been extinguished.
That was the logical side of my brain. The erotic side of my brain had other ideas and from the midst of my subconscious I began to dream. Out of the recesses of my mind I walked down the hallway to my bedroom I heard voices giggling on the other side of the closed door. I opened the bedroom door and my mouth dropped wide in surprise.
Kneeling in the middle of a king-sized bed with their arms around each other's waist was Whitney and my wife. They wore matching black corsets that had a shelf-bra, so their breasts looked like they were being offered up on serving trays. Black fishnet stockings were held up by suspenders which dangled from the corsets. Neither wore panties so their wet and puffy bald pussies were on full display.
With a sultry tone my wife said, "I asked Whitney to join us." She turned and kissed Whitney. Their tongues teasingly entwined. Breaking the kiss, my wife looked at me and continued, "I hope you don't mind."
"I don't mind at all," I rasped excitedly with a smile and a twinkling eye. I walked into the room ripping off my shirt and kicking off his shoes. I hopped on one leg then the other as I yanked my socks off. I tore down my trousers and boxers then charged towards the bed with my eager erection leading the way.
Whitney met me at the end of the bed and kissed her hungrily. She arched her back and moaned as I squeezed one humongous breast then bent my head and sucked the other's nipple.
My wife rolled off the bed and dropped to her knees in front of me. She took my cock in her hand and traced her finger down the huge vein running down its length. She offered my cock to Whiney who had dropped from the bed and knelt next to her.
They feasted on my cock. Starting at the base of my cock they each licked up its length until they met at the head. Then they interlaced their tongues in a fiery kiss. As my cock danced between their mouths I moaned deep in my throat. While my tickled my testicles with her tongue, Whitney sucked on the bulbous head and jerked her hand down its length.
My wife said, "I need get Whitney's pussy ready for you."
Whitney got up off the floor and onto the bed. She rolled over on to her back and hung her head off the edge of the bed and huskily ordered, "Feed me your cock, Chet."
Once again I slipped my cock into her mouth. Meanwhile, my wife knelt between Whitney's spread legs. In no time Whitney was moaning and groaning around my cock as my wife worked her talented tongue into the younger woman's cunt. My wife buried two fingers inside Whitney then lightly bit down on her clit.
Whitney climaxed, spitting out my cock she wailed, "Ohhh!"
My wife rolled over and spread her legs invitingly saying, "My turn."
Whitney crawled up between my wife's legs on her hands and knees. She kissed and sucked the upper thigh were it was exposed above my wife's stocking tops. She gently bit my wife's puffy pussy lips before burrowing her tongue between them.
I positioned myself behind Whitney and she stopped her oral manipulation while I worked my hard cock into her saturated snatch, she panted, "That's it. That's what I want."
It took a few moments for her pussy to accommodate my girth. Once I was fully seated inside her, I huffed, "Your pussy is so tight. It feels so good, Whitney."
As I slowly began moving my cock in and out of Whitney she adjusted to my rhythm and began licking my wife's pussy to the rocking motion of my thrusts. My wife groaned with gratification and pushed Whitney's face deeper into the hot folds of her cunt. She clutched the bed spread and arched her back hollering, "Cumming!"
I grabbed Whitney's hips and pummeled her pussy to a pleasurable pulp. My cock grew harder, then twitched, then spewed.
Feeling, my cum bathing her pussy must have triggered Whitney's orgasm. She growled into my wife's gaping gash as her cunt contracted around my cock milking the last of my cum from it.
I was jolted from my slumber by the ringing of the phone with my wake-up call. I bolted upright in my bed. I sighed, "What a dream."
After showering and shaving I hurried down to the hotel's cafe to meet Whitney for breakfast. She hadn't arrived so I helped myself to coffee and bagel then grabbed a table to wait. Not long after I sat down Whitney made her appearance. She looked very professional in her navy blue pants suit with a pink blouse and her hair pulled back into a business-like bun. She acknowledged me with a tilt of her head and grabbed coffee and a Danish from the breakfast bar before joining me. She sat down and pushed her eyeglasses back up her nose.
Frowning I observed, "I didn't know you wore glasses. Did you have contacts in last night."
"No, I don't need glasses. They're just plain glass," she replied handing me her spectacles. She explained, "Gals with glasses look smarter, so I wear them to combat the dumb blonde stereotype."
Laughing I said, "You do understand marketing."
"Thank you. How did you sleep?"
"Pretty good, I had a very interesting dream," I replied with a wink.
"Oh, you," Whitney teased and gave my hand a squeeze. She placed the convention's program on the table. Today, a total of sixteen speakers were going to make presentations but four would be speaking at the same time so each attendee would only be able to hear four speakers for the entire day. Her forehead wrinkled as she said, "So many good speakers on so many good topics. I wish I could hear them all. Do you know which ones you're going to attend?"
I nodded and showed her my program with the speakers I had chosen circled. Nodding she pulled a pen from her briefcase and circled the names placing my name next to each speaker.
"Why don't we meet for supper and compare notes."
"Let's make it eight at the hotel's restaurant. I'll even buy," she offered.
"Sure," I agreed but before I could continue our conversation she popped from her seat.
Picking up her briefcase she said, "There's Chubby and Curly, I need to speak to them."
I finished my coffee in a funk. I studied Whitney's round bubble-butt perfectly displayed in the blue slacks as she leaned over the table in animated conversation with Chubby and Curly. They seemed quite jovial from the attention she was lavishing on them. Sitting my cup down I rose to my feet and placed a tip on the table and left the café. I chided myself, "Quit sulking, Idiot."
A shuttle bus pulled up to take hotel guests to the convention center. I was one of the first and made my way to the back of the bus, saving the front seats for late arrivals. A portly gentleman from Seattle squashed me into the window as he torqued his bulk into our seat. Whitney was the last one on the bus and asked a grayed-haired executive if he would give up his seat so she could talk business with the man next to him. When the gray-haired guy rose I got a glimpse of the man she was setting next to, it was my colleague from last night, the one that had ogled Whitney's breasts.
As they engaged in a lively discussion punctuated by several of her girlish laughs, a wave of jealousy washed over me. I shook my head to clear it then glared out the window. I was acting childish after all I was a married man. And, Whitney was a wife and mother so nothing was going to happen between us. I bite my lip resolved to check my emotions and just enjoy the harmless flirting that Whitney did with me. Apparently she flirted with every other male she came in contact. Part of her business strategy, she's just networking, I concluded.
I spent the rest of the day listening to one speaker or another, moving from presentation to presentation. I decided I needed to do my own networking and made it a point to meet someone new in each seminar. I ate lunch with a new acquaintance from Buffalo. Following the last speaker of the day I caught a shuttle back to the hotel.
Calling my wife I told her about my day and listened as she told me about hers. After we said our good-byes, I compared how my wife made me feel to how Whitney made me feel. I did love my wife and I was comfortable with her. The feeling I had for Whitney were pure lust and I was excited by the attention she gave me. It seemed to me that Whitney was a nice beat-off fantasy but nothing was ever going to happen nor was I sure that I wanted anything to happen.
I went down to the hotel's restaurant. The maître d' led me to one of the back tables hidden from most of the eatery's patrons. My eyebrows rose in surprise as I caught sight of Whitney sitting at the table wearing a blue T-shirt and black yoga pants with no make-up on and her hair pulled back in a ponytail.