Conference in Paris

"Yes, yes, knead my breasts. Hard, hard. Yes, yes, yes. Oh, so good. More, more."

But I do as she did, teasing and letting go. I grab her hair and push her head back, fuck her hard now, ride her at a gallop. Now I've come once, can go on for a while longer, but she starts to pant as if she's going to come at any moment.

I pull out, put my lubricated cock against her back hole. Pushing myself in, forcing her locks.

"Oh God, oh God. Ow, ow. Ohh no, yes, yes, yes. Ow, ow."

I get past her calyx muscles and get further and further into her bowels.

"Ow, so, yes, yes, oh, yes, yes. Fuck me, fuck me. Yes, yes," she chirps. It hurts and feels good, obviously. Her buttocks are now an excellent sight and target. I spank one, then the other.

"Ow, oh, yes, yes, more. Oh God, yes. Fuck, spank, fuck, spank," I hear her wheeze.

I fuck her in the ass and spank her right and left buttocks. She picks up a hand and starts rubbing her clitoris. Moans, moans and comes.

"Yes, yes, oh, I'm cumming, coming. Ohh, keep going. Yes, yes, yes, nooow."

I hump a few more times. When I feel her orgasm making her entire anus increasingly tight, it's my turn to come again. I thought I didn't have any left, but I feel myself squirting three times into her anal cavity.

Her buttocks are bright red. Will she be able to sit tomorrow? Not my problem. She asked for it, wanted a spanking.

We lie next to each other on the couch. Breathing out. Holding each other. Kissing each other.

I happen to see the clock. Oh, already twelve o'clock. Have to go home to the hotel and sleep. Must get ready for tomorrow.

"Thank you for a fantastic evening and experience. It was probably the absolute best fuck I have had. To just lie and feel, not see, not touch, not talk. And then to be able to take control. Absolutely fantastic."

"Yes, how lucky I was to give you my number. I want to experience this again. But now I think I need to go to sleep, get some rest. And you have a business day tomorrow, I guess. Thank you, my darling. I want to see you again," she says.

I give her a kiss, get up. Go in and wash off the worst of it and put on my clothes.

"Thanks, I think I'm busy tomorrow night, there's usually drinks and mingling. Call you when I get home, see if we can get our calendars together. Was absolutely wonderful."

At the hotel, I set the alarm clock for seven. And fall asleep immediately. What a night.

The conference is at the hotel I'm staying at, I just have to go down to the large conference center. I check in and get my name tag around my neck and a yellow ribbon around my wrist. I must wear the band throughout the conference, every day. It's their security so that no strangers can sneak in. Each day begins and ends with a keynote speaker. The one who starts the day is the US President's National Security Advisor. After that, there are several parallel tracks. My session is the last of the day, when once again everyone is gathered in the main hall. There are around three hundred people in total. After my session we mingle and have drinks.

I go up onto the stage. Everyone applauds me warmly. I start talking. I have a thirty-minute presentation but have forty-five minutes at my disposal. There are always a number of questions at the end, so I reserve fifteen minutes for that.

I always look out at the audience. I try to look a few different people in the eye. About halfway through my talk, my eyes end up in two black wells. I pause. Is it the eyes from the flight yesterday. The woman who sat next to me. Yes, it is. Now I recognize her. With willpower I look away and continue my speech. A little unsure of what I'm saying but knowing the subject well. The rest of the talk and the question-and-answer session is equal parts routine and determination.

Afterwards I get a huge round of applause and the conference organizer thanks me profusely. She tells them I will be there for the whole conference and participate in the panel and the final debate. No flowers or gifts. Instead, they donate to Médecins Sans Frontières.

After exchanging a few words with the organizers, who thank me for a good and interesting presentation, as they always have to say, I head out into the crowd. A waiter moves about with glasses, and I get a glass of white wine. Almost immediately an elderly man comes up and wants to talk about what I have told during the presentation. After a while, a few more people join in. A rather intense debate ensues. Most people realize that they still have a considerable amount to do to protect themselves. Before today's conference, one of them explains that they thought they were fully protected. Now she has to go home and rethink the situation for her company.

After a while I excuse myself, I need to get some breathing space and, not least, relieve the pressure. Even in the restroom, I meet participants who want to thank me for my presentation. Finally, I manage to get into a small stall of my own and can breathe for a short while.

After a much-needed break, I return to the crowd. Almost immediately I notice the woman in the hijab. She is standing alone at a standing table with a glass of juice. I walk up to her.

"Hi, I didn't know we were going to the same conference yesterday on the flight. What do you think the day has been like?"

"Hey, no, I didn't know that either. You were well looked after on the plane. Haven't seen anyone treated like that before."

She would only know what happened next, I think. But that's my and Angelica's little secret.

"Yes, it was not normal, I can only say that. She recognized me from previous flights. I do a lot of traveling in my job. Why are you here on this conference?" I ask and look at her name tag hanging around her neck. I can see that her name is Jasmin Mohammad and she works at the Swedish Defence Research Agency (FOA).

"Ah, FOA," I say. "Interesting, they've really come a long way in their security. I was a consultant with them several years ago. What do you do with them?"

"Sorry, but for security reasons I cannot and must not tell you, even though you have the highest security clearance. Down to need to know, and you don't have the need," she laughs.

"Quite right, so let's not talk shop. How is it to be a woman and a Muslim here? If I may ask. You're all alone."

"Yes, that's a bit of a problem. There are very few people who want to reach out and talk. I think they are afraid of making a mistake. And I cannot walk up to others. It wouldn't look good, especially if it's men. And here it is eighty percent men."

""Tough, or is it just natural to you?""

"A bit of both, both natural and annoying. No, not hard, but a pity. Making contacts and exchanging experiences is an important part of conferences, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. What about smaller events, can you talk to whoever you want?"

"It depends. If it's at home, then it works. Or at work, then it must work. But otherwise, it won't look good. I should have a male escort here at the conference, but I put my foot down. There must be some balance in the traditions. But I have to behave as if I have a male relative nearby. For example, I can't have a glass of wine or loosen my headscarf."

"What about when you are at home? Do you wear a hijab at home too?"

"No, absolutely not. Especially not if there are only family or close friends. Then I can let my hair down and also dress in female clothes."

"And even have a glass of wine?"

"No, not really. But yes, I'm very fond of that. The challenge is to buy a bottle of wine; I usually ask a non-Muslim friend to buy it for me. I like to drink a little, I think it's good and relaxing."

"Interesting, I haven't known many Muslim women. So, it's like two different worlds, one inside the home and one outside. You are two different people, depending on where you are."

"Yes, that's how it is. At home and to some extent at work, I am one person and here in public I must be another. There are few who see my two persons."

"You are a very fascinating woman. Your eyes. Do you know that I was almost drowned in your eyes during the presentation, when I saw you. The same yesterday on the flight. Your face is also completely unique. I would really like to get to know your two persons. Can a man say that to a Muslim woman? Have I crossed the line?"

"Yes, you have completely crossed the line of decency. At the same time, I take it as a compliment and thank you. Not many people dare to say this to me. Afraid of me being hurt or afraid of being racist, I think."

"That might be the case. I really hope you didn't get hurt but please accept it as the compliment it was meant to be."

"Now I will do something that is forbidden," she says and puts her hand on my arm. Squeezes a little. "I need to touch you. Thank you. Now I would like a glass of wine."

"One moment and I'll get you a glass."

"No, no. Not here. It's not possible. Only at home, not in public. I will have to go to my room. I'm on the fourth floor, room 4212. Thank you for your company here. I very much appreciate our conversation. Hope to continue it. Now I have to leave," she says and starts walking towards the elevators.

What was that? Information about where she lives. Does she want me to follow her, to visit what she now considers her home? We've been in the shadow; most people are mingling in the big room. No one has seen us, I think. She has already disappeared up the elevator. I wait for a while. Go into the toilets again and freshen up a bit. Wash myself a little. Then walk with quick steps towards the elevators. It takes a while before an elevator arrives. In the meantime, some participants have seen me and come up and want to talk. I stand there for a bit, then say that I need to go up to my room for a moment. I hope to see them later.

Room 4212 is a short distance from the elevators. No one in the hallway when I knock on her door. She opens it after a few seconds. Standing there without hijab and in a very feminine dress. A big smile on her face.

"What took you so long?" she asks. "Thought my coded message was all perfectly clear."

"It was. Got a little held up by some people who wanted to talk. You look stunning. What a transformation."

"Come in, don't just stand there gawking. Now you see the other me. Maybe the real me."

I look at her as she moves around the room. She moves like a panther, just as graceful where you can see the animal's muscles working under the fur. I can see how her body is moving under the dress, sense the muscles and especially her breasts, hips, and buttocks. It creates a perfect and very sensual effect.

"Now I want a glass of wine," she says.

She walks over to the minibar in the room. She bends down and takes out the wine and two glasses. She is wearing a crimson dress with a generous neckline. The dress ends at the knees, and she has a pair of shoes with a heel of maybe three centimeters. The same color as the dress. Around her neck is a thin gold chain with a pendant that highlights the gap between her rather large breasts.

She turns her dark eyes on me, realizing what I see. She smiles a little. Opens the bottle and pours the wine into two glasses. Gives me a glass and we toast, look each other in the eyes and take a sip.

"You men have eyes like birds of prey, hard not to see what you appreciate and hope to catch. Am I just another prey in the pack for you? The stewardess yesterday was probably no exception."

"If you are one of the pack? No, you certainly are not. The stewardess yesterday was certainly an exception, just like you are. I never pick up women and I don't get picked up very often. Normally my trips are 98% work and sleep. The occasional beer makes up the other two percent."

"And at home? Do you have someone at home waiting for you?"

"No, there simply hasn't been time for that. Well, when I was studying, I had a long-term relationship with a fellow student. But she moved to the US. We still see each other occasionally when I'm in Atlanta. But now she is married and has two children. How are you doing? Anyone at home?"

"Full of people at home, parents, siblings, uncles, cousins... But they have learned that I am both a good Muslim and an independent woman. I live alone in a small apartment near my work. If I have had any relationship? Yes, in a way I was engaged for a few years. My father has a cousin in Egypt who has a son. They wanted us to get engaged. I broke it off. There was a lot of excitement and discord in the family."

"Wow, that must have been hard. But well done, I would say."

"After that, my emancipation was natural and accepted, strangely enough. Apart from that, I'm clean as a whistle. The fact that you are here is a great exception and something quite unique. I don't know what came into my mind. Maybe it's my turn now? What do you think?"

What an invitation. Does she want to be kissed, what does she want? Best to take it easy, go slow. Her eyes are amazing. Now she's looking at me like that with them again. Hard to resist.

I take a step closer to her, look into her eyes. They're amazing, I get sucked into them. She remains standing, not moving. There are only a few centimeters between us. She looks up at me, I'm a little taller than she is. I put down my glass. She does the same. A small smile plays at the corner of her mouth. I lean forward and let my lips touch hers. She remains standing. Still looking into my eyes. I repeat my little kiss, now a little closer. She forms her lips against me. Brings her arms up and wraps them around my neck.

My hands grab her waist, I lean forward and kiss her firmly now. Slowly her lips open and meet mine. I press her gently against me. Her arms and hands around my neck draw me to her.

She tastes good, her lips are like soft against mine. She follows my kiss, does the same. I try sticking my tongue between her lips. At first nothing happens. Then it meets a cautious tongue. Our tongues meet, feeling each other while our lips are now close to each other. She begins to press her body against mine. I can feel her breasts pressed against me. They feel big and heavy but at the same time firm.

My one hand caressing her back, and a little on the upper part of the bum. She presses her hips against me. We are glued to each other; I can feel her whole body and she mine. I wonder what she thinks when she can feel how hard I have become.

"Oh, is this what it feels like to be kissed? And embrace a man. One more time, want more. Ohh, finally!" she exclaims as we catch our breath for a moment.

I embrace her again. Feel her arms go up around my neck. Her mouth is enticing, willing and we join once again in a wonderful kiss. Her hands caress my neck, my head. They are soft and at the same time encouraging, as if they want more.

When we break the kiss, I take her by the hand, lead her to the sofa in the room. I take off my jacket and tie and sit down next to her. I put an arm around her shoulders, lean forward and find her warm, soft, wonderful lips again. I look down and see how her bosom lifts and down as she breathes. Her breasts curve softly up into her cleavage. Had she planned this before the trip, brought a seductive dress?

My one arm is around her shoulders, the other is free to explore her. I place my hand first under her chin, caress her neck, then her collarbones. They are accentuated and very delicately sculpted. After a while I lift my hand, place it on her stomach. Caress her with circular movements over her stomach, which is flat and firm. No extra fat, just nice wonderful woman. A few times my hand reaches the underside of her bust. The first few times she twitches a little, breathes in a little more than usual, but then she calms down. She doesn't pull away from me, rather the opposite. Her grip on my neck and head tightens, she presses more of her body against me. Still leaving room for me to continue caressing, while her left breast is pressed against my side. So nice to feel her body and the warmth that flows from her.

She loosens one hand and brings it to my chest. Starts caressing me. Searches the buttons of my shirt, unbuttons a couple and her hand finds its way inside. Caresses my hairy chest. Slowly I move my free hand upwards. First just lightly over her right breast. Following its contour and caressing along the way, from bottom to top. Up over the nipple and on to the neckline. Is she wearing a bra? I can't feel any edge. I cup my hand and shape it to the breast. I can only get some of it in, but it's so nice to feel how firm it is and how hard her nipple is, with only the fabric of the dress between.

I move my hand up to the neckline and find my way into it. No bra. Her nipple comes willingly into my hand as I slide my hand in. It's rock hard, and big. I touch it with one finger. Circling it. Can hear her start to moan as we continue to kiss. The nipple ends up between two of my fingers. I pinch it lightly. She breaks the kiss. She leans back with her mouth half open.

"Oh, yes, yes, so good. More, more."

I bring my whole hand in, cupping her breast. She leans back. I grab the shoulder straps of her dress, pull them down gently and expose her breasts. They are awesome. I don't think I've seen anything so beautiful before. They're two perfectly shaped breasts, with just the right curves, large enough to make the amazing shape of a bunch of grapes. The areolas are accentuated and dark. In the middle sits the nipple, looking like it wants to emerge from the breast. It looks at me invitingly, as if to say, "caress me, feel me, make love to me." I take the nipple and as much breast as I can fit in my hand, squeeze a little and hear her moaning, whimpering, wanting more.

"Oh yes, yes, so lovely. Yes, touch me. I want your hands on me. Let me feel you. Can you take off your shirt? I want to feel, see what you look like. Oh, how wonderful," she sighs.

I undo the rest of the buttons on my shirt and loosen my pants as well. Should I dare to take them off? When she sees what I'm doing, she nods.

"Yes, yes, take them off. I want to see all of you. I've never seen a man."

I take off my pants, sit in my boxer shorts, which look like a tent. She looks at me. Looking at the tent.

"Do you want to show me what you have inside. The well-hung, if I understood correctly."

Oh, she's not shy; wants it all at once. I lift my butt and pull down my boxers. She gasps.

"Oh, no, but wow. How big. Is everyone like that? Oh, yes, yes. Want to touch. May I? Please!"

Of course, she can touch me, even though I feel like an exhibit right now. I want nothing more than a soft hand exploring me. She extends her arm, leans forward, takes both hands, and slowly touches my member. At first only very lightly, as if she were stroking a strange animal that she doesn't know how it will react. Then she gets a little bolder. She grabs the shaft lightly and moves her hand up and down. Feels the skin move over the hard core. She looks at it with wonder. Takes a finger and feels the top. A little juice has leaked out. When she feels it, she looks at the finger. Sees how it shines. Takes the finger and brings it to her mouth.

"I have seen pictures, been in the lessons at school. But, but never seen, felt before. So big. I know where it should fit but is it possible. Will it work? Oh, help, should I have one of those in me!"

"Mmm, it's usually fine but I have to be careful and take it slowly."

"Promise me you'll be careful; I'm scared and at the same time excited". Is that the right word? Excited?"

"Well, it works. Do you mean horny? A little straightforward, but if you want, I, we, will take it slow and easy. It's important that you feel like you're there all the time, everything that happens has to be on your terms."

Second night in a row that I let the woman decide, take the initiative. Not really like me. Even though I haven't had time for many romances lately, I haven't been completely without them. And when I do, it's usually me who takes the lead. I'm letting her explore me now, I want her to become familiar with me and what I have. Besides, I think it makes her more and more horny.