A Very Drawn-Out Work Convention

Oh my god, I've never sexted before even in private, let alone at a workspace. On the other hand, I'd definitely never had sex in a public place before today either. If anyone were sitting close to me, they'd probably notice the sound of my shuddering, nervous, desperately aroused breathing. I sit and soak in the feeling for a little while before I compose an answer.

"I want to see your face when you come inside me."

Surprisingly, it takes much longer for his next response to arrive.

"I can arrange that."

I imagine him sitting in the audience of another presentation, flustered, trying to conceal his hard-on. Do I get him flustered and out of breath the way he does to me? Can I make it impossible for him to focus on anything else while he's here? I take my time composing another message. I don't know if it's good by the standard of dirty texts, but I get a rush as I hit the button to send it.

"You gave me the most memorable orgasm of my life so far today. I want to repay the favor for you tomorrow."

Minutes drag by, agonizingly and gratifyingly, before I get a reply.

"I won't say no to that kind of favor."

"But" Another one follows close on its heels.

"It's fine if you take a bunch of practice runs first."

By the end of the presentation, I can't even remember what the subject was supposed to be.

I run into James again twice between events. We exchange just a few words each time. Part of me, or rather, some very needy and insistent parts of me, want to attend more events with him, to sit next to him, to run my hand over him under the table, or guide his hand into the space between my legs (so wet, in the time I've spent sitting down, I've soaked through the back of my skirt. Thank god I'm wearing black.) But as enticing as the idea sounds, in every instance of those fantasies that runs through my mind, we don't actually get caught, which we probably would if we tried any of that for real. I settle for shooting texts back and forth with him, playing his game in the backs of presentation rooms and fantasizing. One time, I draw the direct attention of another attendee, when one of the score messages- "You win the booby prize! (I play with your boobies)"- sends me into a bout of giggles during the middle of an event. I dodge Jill for the rest of the entire remainder of the conference day. I am utterly delinquent as an employee, and am fucked a hundred times in my imagination.

I head straight back to our hotel room after the events are over, ahead of Jill, who's probably sticking around for actual networking. I change out of my business clothes and blot my skirt with water; I don't want it to go the way of my panties. I really want to make use of the alone time to masturbate. My pussy is positively aching for it. But I have no guarantee that Jill won't turn up any minute now, and I absolutely want to avoid being caught by her, even more than being caught in public by random convention-goers. I'm going to have to see her again at work day after day for the foreseeable future. Reluctantly, I finally put on another pair of underwear, and head out to get some shopping done. I have some preparations to take care of for tomorrow.

There's a lingerie store within walking distance of the hotel, lucky, since Jill and I came here with one car between us. The trials of working for a green company. First off, I pick out a simple half-slip to go on under my outfit. The dress I have picked out for tomorrow is rusty pink, figure-hugging, and crucially, is not going to cover for me through a repeat of today's issues. Next, a set of panties from the 5/$25 section. I'm not going commando at the conference tomorrow even if it means going through all of them. That takes care of the business side of things, now for pleasure. The underwear I brought with me is all appropriate for a work environment, but for tomorrow night, I'd like to have something a little more coordinated. While I'm poring over lingerie sets, it strikes me that I might be going a bit overboard here. This is basically a hookup, isn't it? People don't buy new lingerie just for hookups. Would I seem desperate? I take a look at my phone while mulling it over. The same game I spent the whole convention playing pops up again. I feel a palpable twinge when I look at it. The game James programmed last night, just to flirt with me. The one I've been driving myself crazy with anticipation with. I put down the bra I'm looking at. This calls for something more high-end.

I text James again after I've finished up shopping. Part of me wants to tell him I got something for him, but I figure that's better kept as a surprise. Instead, I just tell him that I'm thinking about him.

I get a response back in short order. "Nice things, I hope."

"Some of them are unspeakable. You might be shocked." I message back. He's probably meeting up with some connections from the convention right now. I don't know if this will do the trick, but I'd like to imagine him being put completely off his stride in the middle of a work conversation. If I were somewhere private, I might even send a picture. I've never even been tempted before.

It takes a while for his return message to arrive. "You can show me tomorrow then." I smile.

A few seconds later, "Can draw me a chart. Will bring markers."

Okay, maybe I didn't manage to fluster him, but I'm not about to give up. I'll just have to put some more effort in...

By the time I make it back to the hotel room, it's as late as it would have been if I'd actually gone out networking after the convention closed. There's no need for Jill to know I didn't. When she asks me questions about my day, I do my best to weave through the conversation on autopilot. Even just thinking about how I spent my time stokes the heat in me which really hasn't died down all day. I turn the conversation to her, and feign being a very good listener.

Eventually, I excuse myself to take a shower. It's a dodge, but I do honestly want to make sure I'm properly prepared for tomorrow. I also want some time to be properly alone with my thoughts. And I want, very badly, to touch myself. I feel more than a little anxious with Jill on the other side of the door, but even before I've gotten undressed, I know I'm not going to be able to resist. I've never been so turned on for so long before, not even close. Just washing myself off feels like foreplay. My nipples feel achingly stiff, and I have to hold in a slight gasp when I start to tease them. My clit is so desperate to be touched, the thought of holding myself back seems almost cruel and perverse. I run my fingers over myself lightly, gingerly testing my own sensitivity. It's almost impossible to completely keep my voice in. I've never felt so needy before. As I cast my mind back to my encounter with James today, I'm struck again by the overwhelming desire to be filled. Slowly, still teasing myself, I slip a couple fingers inside.

I only have a few seconds to enjoy the feeling before I'm interrupted by sudden knocking on the bathroom door.

"Alyssa? Are you going to be in there long?"

God damn it. I'm wrenched from my relaxation as if the water had suddenly turned to cold vinegar. It's bad enough knowing my coworker is outside waiting impatiently, but I already took long enough with my regular shower routine. Taking a really long shower while your coworker at a green company is waiting for you is probably a special kind of work relationship faux pas. I tell her I'll be out in just a second, dry myself off, and come out wrapped in a towel and a sour mood that completely fails to chill my libido. I play with my phone in a sulk while Jill takes her own shower, once again turning to teasing myself with James' phone game. I pull off a combo ("Fantastic! You're going to be carried to bed!") just as she comes out, and I'm caught with a hot flush of embarrassment. Well, definitely not just embarrassment.

Almost immediately, I start making plans to wait until Jill is asleep so that I can finally enjoy some time by myself. But I have no idea if Jill is a light sleeper, and the prospect of being caught by her is mortifying. Besides, she went to sleep after I did last night, and I don't want to be sleep deprived for tomorrow. So although thinking about what I want to be well rested for only gets me more worked up, I do my best to make myself be still, and try to lull myself to sleep. It's impossible for me to turn my mind away from anticipation, but eventually, I manage to cross over from fantasy into dreams.

Vying for the pinnacle of unfairness in this world, Jill wakes up before me. I am in torment. It's as if the teasing has continued unabated all through the night. I have to stifle a gasp just shifting myself under the covers. I hide awkwardly in bed for a while, afraid I must be all too obvious to Jill. But then, she can't possibly imagine that her coworker would be like this. A couple days ago, I definitely couldn't have. I hurry into the bathroom just to get out from under her eye. I can't help but reflect on how generously accommodated the shower is. James' phone game offered me shower sex. Oh my god.

Jill and I have a presentation of our own scheduled for today. There's no way I can possibly skip that. This is my actual job. I have to make myself seem presentable and professional, at least for the duration of that. I can handle that, can't I? It's only half an hour. Really only about twenty minutes of that will be me talking in front of an audience. And I'll be splitting it with Jill, so it's actually only about ten minutes of having to make myself sound like I can concentrate on business. Ten minutes. How long is that, really? The time I spent having sex with James in that side room was less than that, but it stretches out for ages in my memory. The time he's promised me today could be much longer. This line of thinking isn't a great sign for my ability to focus.

I have breakfast with Jill, and keep the focus of the conversation firmly on our upcoming presentation. I need to fix the content in my mind so I can pull this off properly even if I end up doing it completely on autopilot. This is my one big challenge of the day, and if I get through it, then I-

"Are you okay?"

Jill's question cuts through my mind's wandering. Damn it, I was doing my best to seem focused now! Is it that obvious? My first instinct is to just brush the question off and tell her I'm fine, but that just amounts to saying I'm normally like this. But there's no way that I'm going to tell her what's actually going through my head.

"Mmm?" I settle for making a noncommittal inquisitive noise.

"I dunno, you just seem really edgy. And kind of fixated on the presentation. We've both done events like this plenty of times, it's not like it's a big deal."

"Mhm, yeah, uh..." I rally brilliantly. The longer I draw out an awkward pause, the less I can realistically claim to be fine. "I've just been feeling really... anxious, all day. Since yesterday, I mean. It's probably nothing important, I'll just feel a lot better after this is over with." I didn't even mean to say that last part, but my mind keeps lingering on it.

"Yeah, okay. Well, it's just one last day of the convention to get through and then you'll have plenty of time to relax." That's not helping, Jill!

At least this way she shouldn't be surprised if I don't seem one hundred percent focused on business throughout the convention. We finish making our preparations, and I head in to the last day of the EECC together with Jill. The extra few items stashed away in my purse are, I hope, the only sign that I'm looking at this as anything other than an ordinary business day.

Just as we're arriving at the convention, I receive another text from James.

"Looking forward to seeing you today. You have a presentation at 1:30, right?"

I get an incredible, and nerve-wracking, lurching rush when I read that. I hammer out a quick reply, trying to avoid Jill's notice.

"Oh god, please don't come. I'm definitely not going to be able to keep my mind on the subject if you're there."

It doesn't take him long to respond back. "I thought you wanted me to come?"

Of course, I couldn't expect him to pass up a line like that. I send another message back.

"After the convention."

I'm inspecting the program for the day when another message arrives.

"Can I see you before then?"

I'm locked in indecision. I do want to see him. I want to spend time with him. I wish I could skip over all the business stuff and just spend the whole day with him. But it's precisely because my thoughts are so fixated on him, and since yesterday, so thoroughly explicit, that I'm afraid to see him when I need so badly to get my actual job done.

After painful minutes of mulling it over, I send a reply back.

"Yes."

In the end, I just like him too much. Even if it's stupid, and we only have a little bit of time to spend together while we're here, it hurts to let him think I only care about seeing him tonight.

We make plans to meet up at an event after lunch, before my own. I stick closer with Jill today, trying to keep my mind on the job. Unsuccessfully. I keep drifting to thoughts of sneaking off into a private room with James again. Of desperate kissing that gets carried away. Of him completely losing his restraint. Of wrapping my legs around him while he lifts me up against a wall. Any pretense that my lack of focus at that last event with Jill yesterday was some kind of one-off is demolished. My excuse from the other day is completely untenable; I'm making regular trips to the bathroom just so that I'm not walking around soaked. If Jill weren't waiting on me to meet up with her for the presentations, I wouldn't be able to help myself lingering for more than that. Jill seems to realize that something's amiss, and she spends lunch with me walking through the contents of our presentation again. I thank her for her concern, play it off like I have no idea what's wrong. Inwardly, I just want to get lunch out of the way. After all, I'm meeting up with James after.

I meet James at a presentation on recent developments in fuel cells. It's kind of flattering knowing he gave over an event directly related to his actual field of work to meet up with me. Although strictly speaking, we're still sitting together quietly, theoretically listening to the presentation.

"You couldn't bear to make yourself sit through a whole convention on your job subject without seeing me, huh?"

Technically silent, not disrupting the presentation in the slightest, I text him from the seat immediately next to his. Communicating via phone also has the dubious benefit of forcing us to keep our hands above the waist. Despite the risk of being caught, I'm badly tempted to run my hand along his lap. The temptation to rub my leg against his, I've already completely given in to.

"I decided it was basically impossible." He doesn't look at me as he texts me back, as if he's pretending he's messaging someone else, but he turns to me with a smile a moment later.

"Besides, if I can't watch you give the presentation, I wanted to at least see you first. You can't say I'm not allowed to at least imagine you."

Not that I'm experienced in the subject, but this seems more intimate than just a planned hookup. No part of me can bring myself to object though.

"I'm sure you can imagine me doing more interesting things than that."

"I never said what I would have spent the presentation imagining you doing."

I may have made a mistake in agreeing to see him. This is everything I was afraid of. I want this so badly. I have no brakes. If he texted me to follow him into another side room right now, I would. If he slid his hand up my dress, I would try my desperate best to come quietly. I sit with him as the presentation passes, painfully slowly. He does not touch me.

"Looking forward to this evening." He texts me as we part. "Will be ready to pick you up as soon as the convention is over."

I have ten minutes before I have to meet up with Jill for our own presentation. I spend several standing in a quiet corner by myself, trying to collect myself. I leave myself just enough time to go into a stall and change my soaked panties. If I gave myself even a little more, I might not make it back out again.

Jill gives me a friendly look when I arrive, like she's reassuring me that this is no big deal. At least I have that small consolation, that she has absolutely no idea what I'm going through right now. I scan the audience. As promised, James isn't here. I can only hope that's going to be enough. At least if I fuck up, he's not going to see me looking like an idiot. Jill definitely will, of course. As the audience settles down, she launches into the opening of the presentation.

After a few introductory remarks, Jill trades off with me. I address the crowd. Standing up in front of them, speaking about our company's work is... surprisingly manageable. I'm keenly aware of how sensitive my body is right now, of my desire and anticipation. But the sheer anxiety of being up in front of a crowd, of having everyone's attention focused on me, cuts through the haze. Jill was right, I've done this plenty of times before. With even just a little bit of ability to focus, this isn't actually hard. If I were even a little bit of an exhibitionist, if I could be swept away by thoughts of James taking me against the podium in front of everyone... No, my mind flinches away at the thought. While I'm up here, at least, I'm able to function.

When we finish taking questions and leave the front of the room, a wave of relief washes over me. The part of me that could still focus on work was genuinely dreading this. I was afraid that I'd humiliate myself and completely sabotage my job. It's over with. This was the last point where I truly had to focus on presenting myself professionally, and it's done. I didn't even realize how heavily this was weighing on me until it was finished.

"Mhm, uh, yeah..."

In my relief, I suddenly catch myself responding dumbly to some comment from Jill. I don't have even the slightest idea what she just said.

"Wait, um, sorry, could you repeat that?"

Jill giggles.

"Oh my god, you've been so out of it for this whole convention. It's kind of hilarious."

She gives me an amused smile. "You've pretty obviously had your attention somewhere else entirely. What happened? Did you meet a cute guy or something? Cute girl maybe?"

All my body heat boils up through my head. I had absolutely no intention of sharing this with Jill, but at this point I'm not sure I have any plausible deniability.

"Umm... yeah." I mutter. After a few seconds reaching around for what to say, I add, "The first one."

She laughs again. At least she doesn't seem mad.

"I thought it might be something like that."

She gives me a pat on the shoulder.

"Whatever, it's not like they pay us enough to be drones for this stuff. We did the presentation they sent us here for, anything on top of that is pretty much your own time."

"Um, right. You think?" This whole turn of conversation has completely thrown me. It suddenly strikes me how little I've ever gotten to know Jill off the job.

"Yeah. Go do your own thing. Talk to your guy. Have fun."

It takes me a few seconds to collect myself. She has no idea what that "have fun" sounds like to me right now.

"Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks."

I start to hurry off, maybe too fast. Jill is smirking when I turn around to look at her again. I give her a slight wave.

"Umm... You have a nice time too."

I'm free now. There are still events left today, but I can't bring myself to care about them. The anxiety which was weighing down on me has completely evaporated. It's been replaced, unbelievably, with more lust. My mind is racing almost like when James was sitting next to me before. Like when he stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my body. Standing off to the side as attendees filter between rooms, I squirm, trying not to let anyone catch me rubbing my legs together. I want to touch myself. I want, so much more, for him to touch me. I text James just to let him know I'm thinking about him. I want to see him again right away. I'm afraid to. I want him to drag me off into another room. I'm afraid he'll be able to tell how little I can hold myself back, how much I'm struggling to wait.