Big Girl Business Trip Pt. 02

Doug looked away, trying to avoid my eye. He sipped his drink and fidgeted, turning the glass in his hands as perspiration formed on his upper lip, matching the condensation on the sides of his margarita.

I smiled and stood up, walking slowly over to the table by the window, where the pitcher of margaritas stood, half full. I made small talk about the flight to LA, the upcoming conference, and how much I was looking forward to seeing Kat.

Kat and I had been friends ever since we met in the ninth grade. I had transferred from a strict Catholic school to a public school and was in the middle of what I called my heinous period. I was tall and thick, especially in the chest and backside, and I was given to covering myself in loose clothing. I met Kat on my first day. She was as tall as I was, but was much more athletic. She took me on and helped me learn to love the way I looked. She was the one who taught me that showing cleavage was a path to success. Thanks to her, I hadn't paid for a drink or gotten a speeding ticket in ages.

I refilled my glass and called down to the front desk for another pitcher to be sent to my room. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that Doug's gaze was aimed right at my ample hindquarters. This is going to be like taking candy from a baby.

Knowing that Doug seemed more comfortable when he could look without my looking back, I sat down in one of the two generic chairs that came with the room, and looked out the window as I crossed my legs and took another sip. I had shaken salt on the back of my left hand, so I absently licked it and then bit down on my lime.

"So," I said nonchalantly, "What should we do tonight? Do we want to go out or stay in and order room service? After all, that's what expense accounts are for, right?"

When I snatched a quick glance, I saw that he seemed much more at ease. The liquor was relaxing him. Probably making him feel bold.

"Well," he said with a giggle, "I'm pretty good at massages." Yep, I thought, he's feeling bold all right.

"Are you?" I asked, turning to him and leaning back. I held my right foot out to him. "Show me."

Doug got up from the bed and finished off his glass. He looked around for someplace to put it down and noticed my suitcase that was still on the floor by the bed, unpacked. He dragged it over and sat down on it at my feet, putting the glass on the floor.

"Give me that," I said. "I'll give you a refill." I took his glass and poured the remainder of the pitcher into it. He took another sip and put the glass back on the floor, partially covering the water ring he'd left on the carpet.

I sipped a bit more of my drink, smiling innocently as I beckoned with my bare foot. I had both legs together with my towel draped modestly across my lap. Doug bent down and took my right foot in his hands, which were still chilly from the glass. He began gently massaging the sole with his thumbs, letting his fingers wander over my toes. "How's that?" he asked.

"That's very nice, actually," I said. As his thumbs pressed on my foot, I could feel a warmth begin to spread between my legs. My nipples were already standing at attention, but now they began to stiffen against the silky softness of my robe. The juices were starting to flow. The warm damp between my legs gave way to a sweet ache. Was it the booze, or was there something boyish and cute in the round face of the middle aged man who so expertly manipulated my instep?

That's when a knock came on the door. "That must be our refill." I said. With a pout of mock disappointment Doug released my foot, but not before playfully running a finger up my bare thigh.

"Sir!" I said in my best schoolmarm voice. "Behave yourself! We are professionals!" As I rose to my feet, I flashed a little tit, acting as though I hadn't noticed. I gave his cheek a little pinch as I padded to the door.

I opened the door without looking through the peep hole and did a double take. There was Kat, in all her glory, holding the pitcher of greenish liquid in her right hand.

"Room service!" she said brightly. Without even thinking I rushed into her arms and gave her a squeeze.

"I rode up in the elevator with the room service guy. When he got off at the same floor as I was, I figured that the pitcher was for you. Looks to me like you started without me!"

"You don't know the half of it." I said. "This gentleman," gesturing at the red faced fat man sitting on my suitcase, "followed me to my room and was gracious enough to offer me a foot massage."

"Did he really," she said. The gleam in her eye told me that she knew exactly what I was up to. It was time for Double Trouble.