Celine's Hotel Tryst Vol. 02

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Chapters 4-7 of the erotic adventures of Celine Lewis.
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Celine's Hotel Tryst - Vol. II

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age or older.

Note: This story is partly autobiographical and partly what I fantasize about when I'm masturbating. Either way, it describes me.

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Vol. II - The Conference

Chapter Four: Arriving at the Hotel

Chapter Five: The First Day

Chapter Six: Day Two

Chapter Seven: Day Three

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When last we left Celine, she was concerned about having to share a room with a female stranger at the upcoming business conference...

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Vol. II - The Conference

Chapter Four: Arriving at the Hotel

"Hello. Welcome to the Nobu. Is this your first time staying in Miami?" the pretty brunette receptionist asked.

"Thanks. It is, actually," I replied.

"Well, welcome! We guarantee you an enjoyable stay at the Nobu! We have a full service restaurant and bar just this way," she said, pointing in the direction of a very elegant lounge, her ponytail swinging around as she leaned and twisted over the counter to indicate the direction, "and the pool area is just through those glass doors." After tapping away at her computer for a few seconds, she handed me a key card to my room. "You're up on the seventh floor. The elevators are just around the corner here. Maid service is every morning between 10 and 12 and room service is available 24 hours a day. Don't hesitate to let us know if you need anything. Enjoy your stay at Nobu Miami!"

We had an option to arrive on either Monday morning, when the conference was scheduled to begin, or on the Sunday afternoon the day before. I chose to get there on Sunday. That way I could just settle in and not have to rush Monday morning. It seemed that most of the other attendees had come early too, because when I checked in, I noticed a large number of people in the busy lobby, wearing the name tags the company had sent us in our official conference itinerary package.

"I'll put mine on only when I have to," I thought to myself. A name tag is basically an invitation for strangers to come up and introduce themselves, and I wasn't quite ready for all of that just yet. I wanted to get up to my room to freshen up before the ice breaker event scheduled for the main ballroom that evening. "I'll wear the name tag tonight," I thought, continuing to try to psyche myself up for the week ahead.

I walked through the lobby, towards the elevators, and couldn't help but feel apprehensive. It was a really, really beautiful hotel, but that only made me think of how nice it would be to masturbate here. Normally, I'd be so horny walking to my room for the first time, anticipating all the secret, erotic self indulgence I'd be engaging in all week. This time, I knew the sexy atmosphere of this beautiful hotel would be a total waste. I didn't pack any of my dildos or vibrators. I didn't bring any of my lingerie, which I usually packed for a hotel stay. I usually liked dressing in lacy teddies and thigh-hi stockings and watching myself pose and masturbate in the large mirrors that were typically available at nicer hotels. I didn't even shave my bikini line to be honest. This year, I'd never have a chance to be alone. No secret, sexy fun. I'd be sharing the room with some woman I didn't even know. So, fuck it. I had a very hairy, angry looking bush. I'd barely be seeing it, much less anyone else, so what did it matter?

At any rate, I had done my best to put the lost opportunity out of my mind. It had been over a month since we were told about the roommates (and also since I let that guy cum all over my face) and I had spent all of that time doing two things - 1) focusing on the professional aspect of this conference. I had been asked to make a short presentation at one of the workshops on the third day. This required a lot of preparation, so I worked very hard on that, and 2) masturbating myself into a frenzy every night of the week leading up to my departure, and once that morning, before I left for the airport. I had to get it out of my system as much as I could.

Up on the seventh floor, the lights chimed and the elevator doors slid apart. I exited the elevator along with a cute elderly couple. "They must be staying up here too," I thought to myself. At first, they were in front of me, but I could tell they'd be taking their time, so I excused myself, and stepped around them, as the elevator doors hissed shut behind us. I began trekking down the hall, looking for my room, which was almost all the way at the end of the passage. I actually thought I missed it as I passed the ice machine, which was in a small open area with a few other, humming vending machines, near the end of the hall. "Where the hell is it?" I whispered to myself. But, finally, I saw the room number, just past the vending area. "Well, I'm near the ice machine, so that's good," I thought - trying to stay positive here. There was only one more room past mine and then the hall ended. At the end was a big beautiful window and a pretty view of the skyline.

I held my key up to the lock on the door. There was a quiet little beep as a small light on the door handle changed from red to green, indicating that the door was unlocked. I turned the handle, but just as I did, I realized that I should probably knock. What if this other woman was already in there? I heard no reply, so I pushed the door open and entered the room.

As expected, it was gorgeous. There was a short hallway immediately as you entered, with a bathroom door to the right and a nice double closet with sliding mirror doors on the left. As you walked past that, the short hallway opened up into the actual room itself. Straight ahead, there was a massive window with a beautiful view of the beach. A small table with two chairs was situated near the window. On the left wall, there were two more large mirrors, almost ceiling to floor, mounted on either side of the dresser and the TV. And of course, being a double occupancy room, on the wall opposite, tucked out of view from the little hallway, there were two queen beds with a little nightstand in between. One bed was nearer the little entrance hallway and one was nearer the big window. On the bed near the window was someone's luggage.

"So the roommate is already here somewhere," I realized. "I guess she's claiming that bed." As I said, I was determined to make the best of the situation, so I did my best to stay focused on the professional opportunities available to me in the coming week. I did a bit of unpacking and went into the bathroom to freshen up. I changed into something a bit more appropriate for a cocktail party, touched up my makeup, dutifully put on my nametag (Celine Lewis, City Sales Manager, Central Region, Chicago), and headed down to the ballroom for the ice breaker.

As I made my way to the party, I began to wonder who the mystery woman would be. Our roommates' names were kept secret from us by the company. I think the main reason is because they didn't want everyone online stalking each other, trying to figure out who they'd be living with for a week. Instead, they had organized some sort of game for the early arriving attendees at the ice breaker, to learn who their roommates were, through a process of elimination. Getting to know your roommates was important because they would not only be sharing the room with us all week, but they'd also be our primary collaborative partners over the course of the entire conference. Everyone who arrived on Monday morning would miss out on this mystery game and would simply be placed with their partners at the start of Monday's first session.

At the door of the icebreaker, we were given a glossy folder with the company logo printed on the front. Inside was a copy of the itinerary for the entire week, a list of guest speaker bios, a slip of paper with our roommate's name printed on it, and the rules for the game we'd be playing later that evening. Also, we were instructed to take our name tags off and place them in a large basket to the side of the door as we entered. It was also requested that we not reveal our names to anyone until the appropriate moment in the game. I wasn't sure what the deal was with that yet, but I assumed they didn't want us accidentally meeting our roommates before playing.

I entered the ballroom and looked around nervously. It was always a challenge for me to randomly socialize with complete strangers, and now, I was surrounded by about 300 of them. Another 100 or so were expected to arrive in the morning. I wasn't really that good at small talk. Back home, I guess you could say that I used my friends as social crutches. I was much more comfortable if one of them was there to take the pressure off me and keep the conversation going. But here, tonight, I didn't know anybody. I expected that a number of people from my work area would be here, but I wasn't really close to any of them, and I hadn't seen any of them yet anyway. I had also met a handful of people over the years at these annual events, but again, there were no real relationships there. It's not like I was keeping in touch with these girls on social media or anything, although each of them did seem nice at the time. So I just made my way through the crowd and headed toward the bar.

I expected that I would be approached by guys at some point. It always happened. I didn't mind; it's only natural. In years past, I used it as masturbation fuel. I would never sleep with a guy at one of these things - I mean, up until the conference last year, I was married anyway. But, even now I wouldn't. I keep it strictly professional when I'm on the clock. Either way, I'm sure that some of these guys who had flirted with me at previous events went back to their rooms, alone, and jerked off, thinking about fucking me. I liked that thought actually. I was definitely doing the same. So, this year, even though jerking off is out of the question for us, I knew that the flirtations would still come, regardless.

I ordered a glass of wine and walked through the crowd. I kept thinking that somewhere, someone in this room had my name - Celine Lewis - written on the little slip of paper in their folder. I stopped and opened my folder again. Written on my little slip of paper, was the name "Diane Alastair."

"What a regal sounding name," I thought, glancing around, wondering which face seemed like it would fit on that driver's license. I wouldn't have to wait very long to find out. A speaker got on stage and made a toast, welcoming us to the conference. He then directed everyone over to a series of tables, off to the side, where our name tags were arranged alphabetically. Next to each name tag was a number and a color indicating a group we were to be placed in to begin the game. There were 32 people in each starting group. I was number 9 in the Red group. Through a series of different activities, the groups were gradually narrowed down into smaller and smaller groups, until, in the end, you were finally paired with your partner. It was actually pretty fun. It always helps me make small talk when there is some purpose to the conversation, so this really did the trick. Every stage of the game involved a little task that you had to work together to complete. I thought that whoever devised this little ice breaker game did a really great job. It could have been a mess with around 300 people involved, but it really worked well, and in the end, everyone met their partner for the week.

"So nice to finally put a face to the name," Diane said cheerfully, extending her hand.

"Same," I said. "I've been so curious to find out who you were."

"Well here I am," she laughed, "By the way, I don't know if you've been up to the room yet, but I put my bags on the bed by the window because it's nearer the air conditioner and I sleep kind of hot, but if it's any problem...."

"Oh, no problem at all," I cut her off, "I'm always cold so it works out perfectly for me."

"Great! Hey, have you had a chance to mingle yet? Why don't you come meet some of the girls I met earlier - now that we can finally share our names."

"Sure," I replied. "I'm a bit of a slow starter, socially, so I haven't really met anyone yet. I'm just going to attach myself to you, if that's okay."

"Oh absolutely, sweetie! I'm a bit of a social butterfly, so you can just lean on me." She grabbed my hand in a friendly gesture and began to lead me toward a group of ladies standing by the punch bowl. "Oh look, they're right over this way."

Surprisingly, I liked her right away. She had a really warm way about her - a very welcoming demeanor. She was one of those magnetic types I was talking about before. Upper management material. In fact, I found out a bit later, that's exactly what she was. She was a regional manager reporting directly to the board.

We arrived at the punch bowl, "Hello again girls! So has everyone met their roommates?" she asked the group.

"We have. I'm so excited for this week," one of them replied.

"Well, ladies, I can finally reveal, my name is Diane and this is my roommate Celine. Celine, these are some friends I met earlier tonight." She went on to introduce me to the four she had already met, and then each of them revealed their names and introduced their roommates to us.

After about an hour, another executive got on stage and closed the party out with another toast. We were instructed to go back to the tables and grab our nametags on our way out. At that point, the party began to disperse. A group of about 20-25 people lingered behind in the lobby, just outside the ballroom, including myself, Diane, and the group of girls she had introduced me to. There were also about 8 or 9 guys in this group of stragglers. Eventually it was decided that we would all migrate over to a bar, just a half block up the street, for drinks.

The bar ended up being a pretty hip Miami nightclub. As I assumed would happen, soon after we arrived and ordered our cocktails, one of the guys in the group approached me and made small talk. The lack of a ring on my finger made me someone for the single guys in the group to zero in on. Looking around at the ladies who were there with us, the majority were wearing wedding rings. I only counted three of us, including me, who were not.

I was happy to talk to the gentleman. He wasn't bad to look at, and he bought me my second drink. But, with masturbation off the table, I didn't want to torture myself, or him, so I politely made my getaway. I wanted to start getting to know Diane and the other girls anyway.

I found the group sitting around on the far side of the bar. One of them, Lexi, was younger, very outgoing, and a bit flirtatious. Maybe she was just really friendly. She had us all laughing most of the evening. Some of the other girls were off to the side, mostly talking about work stuff. Diane was circulating and making everyone feel involved and important. I could see already that she had a gift for that. Something about her was just - I don't know - self assured. She didn't seem to care, at all, about her position in the company hierarchy, but I almost felt that she was superior to the rest of us, which I guess, technically she was. She definitely outranked me in the company. But it wasn't that. I almost felt like I could look up to her. I felt something like envy, but without any of the negativity. Admiration, I guess.

We all decided to call it a night and walked back to the hotel at around midnight. We said our goodbyes for the evening and scattered to our respective rooms. Diane and I rode the elevator up to the seventh floor and made small talk about the week ahead.

"I think tonight was really fun. It should be a good week," she said, still full of magnetic enthusiasm, even though she must have been as tired as I was by this time.

"I really hope so," was all I could muster. I was beginning to question the wisdom of staying out late and having 3 cocktails on the first night of a long week.

We reached the room and quickly took our turns in the bathroom, brushing our teeth, washing our faces, and changing into our pjs, which, as someone who almost always sleeps nude, I bought specifically for this trip - just a few little knee-length nightgowns. I crawled into bed feeling that I might have lucked out with my roommate. At least she seemed to be someone I could be comfortable around, so that was a plus. In spite of this, my apprehension about sharing the room for the entire week was still there, in the pit of my stomach, and I fell asleep hoping that the week ahead would be as tolerable as tonight turned out to be.

Chapter Five: The First Day

The conference was set to begin, in the ballroom, at 8 AM. Coffee and some light breakfast would be available. As Diane and I entered the double doors, we were shocked at how much work had been done since the night before. The previous night, it was just a big open floor. That morning, it looked like an auditorium. There were hundreds of chairs lined up in neat rows, with convenient aisles running through the middle to help people access their seats for the opening speaker. At 8:30 sharp, the CEO appeared on stage to a round of applause and officially opened the conference. He, again, reminded all of us of his desire that we would enjoy the collaborative aspects of this year's event. As the infamous email had said, it would be a "summer camp" atmosphere.

He then introduced a keynote speaker - a former board member who had since been elected to the State Senate, served in government for 12 years, and then retired. These were the types of things that really didn't do anything for me. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to be taking away from hearing all about this guy's life. But he soon stepped off the stage, and we were dismissed to our first round of collaborative workshops.

The day went well. Surprisingly, I didn't feel hungover and I was thanking my lucky stars for that one. I've reached the age where a couple of drinks in the evening might be all it takes to ruin the next day. But, thankfully, I felt fine. Diane seemed to be okay too. I don't think she had as much to drink as I did - maybe just one or two glasses of wine, but, as I discovered over the course of that first day, she's 47 years old. If alcohol is hitting me harder at age 40, it must have an even greater impact at her age. She looked fabulous though. In fact, throughout that first day of activities, I couldn't help but notice how great she looked for her age. She had as much enthusiasm as anyone, if not more, but she kept it low key. She was one of those warm, supportive types. Again, I almost felt a kind of envy. People are usually surprised to hear that I came up in sales, due to my retreating personality, but, when there's a predetermined topic to discuss, I'm fine. I just struggle with informal socializing and small talk. I could never be like Diane. I'm too busy shielding myself from others, to go around offering my support to them. While she reaches out with her big heart, I tend to hide away.

When we were finally dismissed at 4 PM, Diane and I headed back up to the room and collapsed onto our beds, laughing at how exhausted we already felt. After about 30 minutes of lying down and talking about the day, we started trying to figure out how we were going to spend our evening.

"Some of the other girls were talking about staying around here tonight and meeting up for a drink, downstairs, in the lobby bar. I think that's what I'll do too," she said.

"That's probably all I can handle after last night," I agreed. "What time are they meeting?"

"I think pretty soon. I actually wanted to facetime with my family and check in before I go down, though."

"Oh okay. Did you want some privacy for that?" I offered. "I'll go ahead and get changed and then leave you to it."