Illicit Actions Ch. 02

Dearest readers, I apologize for this one being a bit longer. It's hard to resist the temptation to write.

***

There was a chill in the air as we stepped out of the car, close enough to Lake Wakatipu to smell the delicate fresh water. This was the first time I've ever been to New Zealand, and being the fantasy nerd I am, it was everything I could ever hope for. If I squinted, I could see every part of the area that was used in filming the Lord of the Rings movies.

I was not the only one freaking out. My travelmate, another participant in this year's conference and friend from the university, dropped his bags and screeched. It figures the man who routinely coordinated with our advisor on video game projects would be more ecstatic than me.

We made our way through Queenstown proper, trying not to gape at the scenery around us. We only had about an hour to make it to the hotel, change clothes, and freshen up before we had to be at the opening reception. I had a room to myself this year, meaning my comings and goings wouldn't be monitored. I counted my lucky stars repeatedly on the long plane ride over.

I'd brought typical conference outfits: dress pants, low-heeled boots and flats, modest dresses with thin cardigans. In a separate part of my suitcase, I'd packed only miniscule thongs, lacy bras, and silk slips. You never know when you might need it.

For the first night, I put on my favorite midnight blue slip: the silk slid through my fingers like a gentle breeze and the lace brushed the tops of my breasts, sending a chill down my spine. I savored the sensation for just a moment before pulling on my knee-length wrap dress. A quick readjusting of my low bun and another swipe of lipstick and mascara and I was out the door. I didn't want to be late.

I hadn't seen him since the end of the semester. I'd finished grading final portfolios at the last possible moment and all that was left to do was wander around and say farewell to whomever was left. He was among them.

Per usual, he was frantically attempting to complete seven tasks at once. I popped my head in to say goodbye on my way out, but he had me sit down. We discussed some loose ends in preparation for this conference and a few other projects before he headed a month-long study abroad program. Even just talking about mundane details such as AV requirements with him got my heart racing. As I've said before, my advisor is no longer akin to George Clooney, but he's got a certain charisma, a certain way of looking at you, as though nothing else in the world is as important to him as you are right now and no one has ever said anything more profound.

It was because of this I'd never thought of him as anything less than a colleague. It was also because of this that I'd fallen madly in love with him.

The reception was tastefully done, with unassigned tables meant to encourage mingling, soft music playing in the background, and food and drinks constantly refreshed. I caught up with a few people I remembered from last year's conference when I looked up and saw him approaching my table.

"Make it alright?" he asked.

"For my first trip to this part of the world, it wasn't terrible. The jet lag is going to be the death of me, though," I replied, getting the gentle chuckle I'd hoped for.

It had been nearly two months since I'd seen him last and he hadn't changed a bit. He wore his trademark khakis with a rumpled button up, but he had managed to find black socks to wear with his shoes, instead of his usual white tube socks. The man had style.

We didn't talk much after that; the proceedings were opened with a hot-off-the-screen premiere of a work from a famous author. We all watched in fascination, appreciation, or in my case, amusement mixed with confusion. The president of the organization gave a speech about the breadth and quality of presentations this year and gave out all of the logistics of how the conference would work. My advisor and I would present the day after next.

At the first opportunity, I fled back to my room. The door was barely shut behind me as I kicked off my shoes, tugged open my dress with one hand and reached for my trusty dildo with the other. I never traveled without it and I never failed to get looks from the TSA staff as they scanned my luggage. I hardly lasted five minutes before I came and fell asleep, too exhausted to even bother with the rest of my nightly routine.

The first day of talks went off without a hitch. I'd attended as many talks as I could, making sure I made time to watch my travel mate. After a brief break for attendees for freshen up, most of the conference attendees met for the formal dinner. Because it was the second night and we were all itching to catch up with colleagues we saw maybe once a year, the attire was more casual and the drinks were poured more freely. I kept my glass of gin and lime replenished, but took no more than a sip or two at a time. I was on a mission.

Earlier that day, I'd made sure my advisor was rooming alone. He'd arrived late and was forced to pay full price for a room with a king-sized bed. I skipped out on the last talk a little early so I could plan my outfit for dinner. I curled my shoulder-length blonde hair into perfect, undone waves. I put on my favorite red thong and matching bra, the kind that isn't meant for support or comfort. Finally, I put on my most irresistible dress: a semi-fitted black number with a sweetheart neckline that hit that point on my thigh that bordered inappropriate.

Tonight would be the night I seduce my professor.

The dinner was excruciating. My panties were beginning to soak through from sheer anticipation. Various people I'd met before insisted on asking me a million incessant questions, and my vow to keep my head clear instead of drinking with the rest of the group started to seem like a stupid one.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the night was winding down. Attendees were either trickling back to their rooms or over to the hotel bar. The universe was on my side; he was there, alone.

I approached him, under the pretense of making final adjustments for our presentation the following morning. As conversation with him usually does, we drifted from topic to topic. Every so often, I'd shift on my stool so that my hemline inched farther up or readjust my arms so the sheer fabric of my bra would peek out. Each time, his eyes dropped and he stumbled over the next few words. I had him in my clutches.

Around 11 p.m., he yawned and claimed he needed to get some rest before the big day. I knew he wasn't nervous - he'd presented a million times before - and I caught him covertly adjusting himself as he rose to his feet.

"Do you have the notes on your computer? I'd like to review them real quick, just so I can refresh my memory." Not the smoothest line I'd ever uttered, but it worked. My logic was solid and he couldn't refuse. After all, he'd had the only copy of the document.

We got to his room and he fumbled while opening the door. I hesitated in the doorway while he moved piles around to uncover his laptop.

"You can go ahead and come in, if you want," he nodded his head over to the main part of the room. He was in the only chair, so I sat gingerly on the bed. It supported my weight without creaking. Perfect.

After about 5 minutes of small talk, I couldn't hold myself back. It was now or never and judging by the bulge in his pants, I doubted he'd refuse me.

"You know, I've been so grateful to be able to work with you these past few years. I appreciate everything you've done for me." I locked eyes with him, as though I was spilling my secrets.

"It's been a pleasure working with you. I know you'll go on to do great things." His reply was short and his breathing was labored. Whether he knew it or not, he wanted me, too.

Without explanation, I stood up, bent down, and kissed him deeply. I made sure he had a clear view of my hard little nipples, standing up proudly through both the fine mesh of my bra and the thin fabric of my dress. With a groan, he pulled me down onto his lap. I was straddling him, facing him. He extended the kiss, opening my mouth with his hand and exploring my tongue with his. I almost fainted them from the pleasure. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined this reaction.

"I know what you were trying to do. I saw your slutty red thong downstairs and I was pretty sure I could make out your nipples through this dress," he punctuated the last bit by blowing some hot air onto the sensitive skin, and I rocked my pussy against his thigh. "I was never sure how you felt toward me, but tonight made it quite clear."

With that, he put me back to my feet and motioned for me to take off my dress. "Let me see what you've been hiding under there."

He pushed me a few more inches away from him and gently guided me around in a circle, pausing only to brush his hand down the curve of my ass.

"Is this special for tonight?" he asked.

"No, actually I've been wearing a variation of these for three years, on the off chance this moment ever happened," I replied, my eyes downcast.

His eyes widened and seemed to look me over with new curiosity. He pulled me back into my lap and kissed me once more.

His left hand cupped my ass, holding me in place. His right hand circled my breast and he lowered his hot mouth onto my nipple. The combination of hot, wet, and fabric almost made me lose it, and in response, he lowered both hands to my waist.

My eyes were shut in sheer pleasure. I felt something shift beneath me, and I realized it was his cock. Even through pants it was impressive. Cut, clean, thick - just like I like them.

He unbuttoned his shirt and shifted underneath me to lower his pants and pull out the very thing I'd been having wet dreams about: his perfect cock. In an instant, any semblance of control I had in the situation fell away.

He used the tip to gently massage my clit through my thoroughly soaked panties. I stifled a moan and yanked my panties down and immediately began fucking the man who'd given me every professional opportunity I'd gotten in the past the years.

He held my hips in place as we rode each other, hard, releasing pent-up tension. We both knew this would happen eventually, and it may not happen again, and I was intent to make the most of it.

He bit my lip. I kissed his neck. He sucked on my breasts. I began rubbing my clit. The fire began to build in my belly, and I could tell he was close, too. One more bout of wild thrusting, and I tipped over the edge into pure ecstasy, my toes curling involuntarily, my cries unrestricted. Just as I was coming down, he grunted and pushed his cum as deep in my vagina as he could.

If it's going to happen just once, you'd better make it count.

I quickly got dressed and kissed his lips, lingering just a moment too long.

"See you at breakfast? We can go over the presentation one more time," he asked.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." With a smile, I tip toed back to my room and slept more soundly than I had in months.

A disembodied voice was calling my name. "Hey, wake up! We're about to touch down in Pittsburgh." My travelmate broke through the dark clouds of slumber. I could only remember bits and pieces of the sexy fantasy I'd been living as I slept.

A girl can dream.