Erotic Geography Ch. 02

### 01: The circumstance ###

Jasmine and I had been seeing each other secretly for a few months now. We were passionate in our encounters and there was a delicious forbiddenness to us spending the days that she worked for me with me knowing that underneath her jeans, her skirts, her cut off shorts, her leggings, and her dresses there was a sexy, sensuous and utterly desirable young transgirl waiting to be revealed in her abundant and naked glory. This was a secret that we shared, and the taboo spiced up the electric tension between us.

We were always so horny with each other. I would make a point to pass her desk on my way to the printer or filing cabinets just to breathe in her perfume, to stroke the back of her neck, and she would make a point to bend over in front of me to find something, especially when wearing skirts or dresses, and would make sure I was watching as the fabric rode up her thighs, uncovered the firm globes of her buttocks. Sometimes she'd be wearing a thong, and I could see her brown wrinkled anus peeking out at me from behind the string. Other times she was more daring and would be naked underneath and she would linger in front of me so that I could feast my eyes on her beauty, her soft cock and balls hanging down framed by the angle of her spread thighs.

She knew that I was watching her. She made sure that I was and even giggled when she saw me doing so. Of course, many times I gave in to my rampant temptation and would get up from behind my desk and crouch behind Jasmine as she was showing herself so lasciviously, and I'd bury my face between her cheeks. Damn, she always smelt so good. I would press my nose up against the soft skin of her anus and inhale her ass: warm, musky, with a hint of forbidden spice.

Sometimes, I would reach round and cup her cock and balls. Indeed, when I was certain that Sandra was away for an hour or more, I would take her penis into my mouth and suck her off, swallowing her hot slimy load as she would ejaculate with my lips wrapped around her glans and my tongue rubbing the underside of her corona and feeling the tiny papillae nesting there, so exquisitely sensitive.

As erotic as these office encounters were, we were both also quite frustrated. We wanted to be naked together. We wanted to make love. Quick office sex was fun and exciting, but we both wanted more. However, now that Sandra's company had merged, she was able to work from home much more, and her home office was across the hallway from mine, and so Jasmine and I often had to be very circumspect. There were days when I'd have to masturbate in the bathroom picturing Jasmine in wild erotic couplings. It was driving me crazy.

However, as luck would have it I received a call for papers to present at a conference in Vancouver. It was a big deal, and to get a paper accepted there was noteworthy, and would enable me to use some of the grant funding I'd acquired to pay for the travel, accommodation, and subsistence. I told Sandra about it over breakfast.

"There's a conference in Vancouver in mid-September, hon'," I said to Sandra over a slice of toast. "I'm thinking that that would be a good time to present some of the findings so far, get some feedback, and do some networking. What do you think?"

Sandra looked over her cup of coffee at me with her deep blue eyes and nodded thoughtfully. "That sounds like a good idea," she replied. "Will the grant pay for it?"

"Oh yeah," I replied. "There's provision in it for publication and conference costs. I mean it's not huge, but enough for a few days and nights hotel and food, and the travel is included too. That's a bonus," I added. "What do you think? Is that something you'd be interested in?"

"What - me joining you?" asked Sandra, slightly surprised.

"Yeah - it'll be fun. Haven't been to Vancouver for a while, try to coordinate it so that - assuming the paper is accepted - the trip can coincide with a weekend. Make a bit of a break of it for us, and it's quite nice that time of year. We can even hire a car and go into the interior, or up the coast, maybe even the island?"

Sandra looked back down to her plate and scooped some egg onto her toast before looking back up at me, and stretching her hand across the table to take mine, said "I'll think about it babe. But to be honest, it means hanging around in a hotel or going sight seeing by myself while you are hobnobbing and being all academic with a bunch of strangers. And then you'll have to go out for dinner and drinks with them, and ... oh I don't know. It's really not that much fun for me. I'll think about it, but probably not."

"OK," I replied, and added, "that's kind of a shame. But I get your point. OK - have a think and let me know. This conversation could just be moot anyway, as I've got to do the paper first. Once I know if my submission is successful, I'll touch base with you about it again and you can let me know your decision then."

The conversation moved on to the day ahead of us, and Sandra started telling me of some of the frustrations she had had recently with one of her clients. After that, we washed the breakfast dishes, put them away and went to our respective offices. It was nice. We could wave to each other and blow kisses at each other across the hallway. When she was feeling mischievous, Sandra would sometimes pull her blouse to one side to flash her pert breasts at me, topped with a rich brown areola and long nipples. It was fun, and added a bit of a buzz to the working space. It also made me feel really guilty, a real louse, for stepping out with Jasmine, because I really loved - and was in love with - Sandra, and desired her. So I was a man torn in two by my opposing desires.

### 02: The plan ###

The days turned to weeks turned to months and, with the help of (and multiple distractions by) Jasmine, I wrote an abstract that was accepted and was invited to submit a full paper which, in turn, was also accepted. The die were cast. I was going to the conference in September, so raised the matter again with Sandra.

Sandra slept on it over night and then the next morning she came up to me as we were about to go into our respective offices, gave me a big hug and pressed the length of her slim firm body against me and told me, "Martin, I love you, and thank you for the invitation to join you in Vancouver, but I am going to pass. It's just no fun for me for much of the time, and I can be more productive here at home. I hope you understand?"

I squeezed her back and told her that I loved her. I was disappointed; I'd miss her. However, I also understand what she was saying and if the roles were reversed, I knew I'd feel similarly.

The days continued to roll by, and I started planning my itinerary. Jasmine continued to come to the office to help out a couple of times a week, and I would continue to eye her, my body filled with lust. Gradually an idea began to coalesce in my mind ... a dark, concealed notion that I knew was there but was also afraid to look at openly, until one day when Sandra was out running an errand, without warning, and catching both of us off guard, I blurted out "Jasmine, do you want to come to the conference with me?"

She looked up from her work and fixed me with her eyes in a long cool gaze, and smiled widely expressing her evident enthusiasm "Really? Are you serious? You're not fooling me are you?"

Clearly, she was taken with the prospect. Also, I told myself, it was only fair as she had helped me with the write up and the data as my research assistant, so she should get some of the credit too. And again, it would be good for her resume and give her good experience for future academia. This went some way to ameliorating my sense of guilt about leaving Sandra behind, and the deception that taking Jasmine with me would entail.

"We need to plan this quite carefully," I said to Jasmine conspiratorially. "Sandra can't know about this ... I don't know what to do about this, to be honest, it is really putting me in a hell of a quandary. I love Sandra, and I really like you - more than I could actually imagine to be honest - and I am really struggling to reconcile this tension".

Jasmine got up from her desk and came over to me, and sitting lightly on my lap she put her arms around my neck and hugged me closer to her, her hair falling across my cheek, her soft warmth emanating through the cotton of her t-shirt. "I know baby," she cooed in my ear, "I know that it's tough for you. I know you love Sandra, and I know that you don't want to hurt her, or deceive her, and I know that you and I really like and care for each other too."

Man - her response, her sensitivity, just made this all the more difficult. I felt myself slipping deeper into the chasm of caring for her, and I also became aware of just how potent my animal lust was for her. I've had the hots for women before. As a younger man, I had had my share of sexy, vibrant very attractive women, and had certainly been plagued by the adolescent curse of raging hormones, felt the 'blue ball' syndrome on a number of occasions, and couldn't wait to get into a girl's panties and to savour the warm wetness of their womanhood. But, with Jasmine somehow it was different. My attraction to her was qualitatively different from anything I'd experienced hitherto and I felt almost powerless in the face of its powerful waves which routinely washed over me whenever Jasmine was around.

Perhaps it was because I knew - and adored and craved - her 'secret'; perhaps it was because she was really attractive, and horny; perhaps it was because she didn't play games with me, except when she wanted to tease and arouse me ... which was admittedly quite often. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was making me crazy.

With her now sitting on my lap, being understanding and sensitive to my domestic situation, her warm body curled up into my arms and chest, it was making me sweat with desire. I put my hand onto her thigh and felt the heat through her tight jeans. Now that Sandra was home more often, Jasmine had toned down the provocativeness of her attire, and often Sandra and Jasmine would have coffee together and chat about things. But even the denim couldn't cage the heat that was rising from her. I knew these thighs intimately. God knows, I had kissed them often enough. I knew what waited for me at the apex, I knew the sight of her scrotum, the soft wrinkles of her sac, her uncut 'clitty' as she liked to call it, and how lovely it was to take into my mouth and feel it swell as I slid my tongue into the folds of the prepuce until I could tease the tip of her glans, the taste of her arousal juices. All of this I knew, and it drove me crazy with lust.

With my hand resting on her thigh, Jasmine leaning into me, I felt the familiar twitch of my own cock. My body was clearly not as divided by my situation as my heart and mind were. From the perspective of my body, I wanted this exotic, beguiling and sensuous young woman, with her little extras, more than I had ever wanted anyone in my whole life, including, I admitted to myself shamefully, even Sandra. Jasmine may have sensed the stirring in my groin, for she turned her face towards mine and our lips met in a soft but enticing kiss, our tongues dancing and exploring each other as they had done so often before, our breath becoming faster as we recognised our own arousal and the growing arousal in the other.

"May I suck you, baby?" Jasmine asked in hushed tones.

I was going to say yes, I was going to say "Fuck yes!" and to pull my pants down and thrust my growing cock into that soft, warm, wet and so eager mouth, except I heard Sandra's car pull up in the driveway outside my window.

Jasmine exclaimed a coy "Oops!" and smiled at me, and getting off my lap said "Hold that thought, for me," gesturing to my crotch as she walked back to her desk and sat down again. I hoped that the room didn't smell of arousal. I hoped that I didn't smell of Jasmine, so I got up and quickly went to the bathroom to wash my hands and to regain my composure before Sandra came in.

"Hi honey," I called when I heard her walk down the corridor to her office. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Oh yes, thanks. You guys okay?" Sandra replied.

Jasmine came out of the office and said "Hi" to Sandra and asked if she wanted some coffee. Sandra accepted and the two of them walked to the kitchen leaving me with my softening erection and the lustful thoughts of Jasmine swirling through my head like rats in a heated copper bowl. Just a kiss with Jasmine had made me willing to increase the risk of discovery, had made me hornier than a teenager. Really, what the fuck was going on with me?

### 03. The execution ###

The day finally came for me to pack my suitcase for the three day conference. I packed clothes, laptop, USB sticks, papers, toiletries, phone and charger and as the taxi pulled up to take me to the Toronto Pearson International Airport, which was about 45 minutes away, I pulled Sandra close to me to hug her.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" I asked.

She hugged me back and kissed me deeply, before pulling away and telling me "Nope hon', this is your thing, not mine. Go and have fun. You haven't been away for a long time, and it'll do you good to let your hair down with your colleagues." Then she patted me on my butt and added "Plus, I'm going to make a girl's night of it. Brenda from over the road and some friends are coming over tomorrow, have some wine and chill out. Don't you worry about me."

After waving goodbye through the rear window and watching Sandra recede into the distance, I reflected on the relationship that had developed between Brenda and Sandra. Brenda, Jasmine's mother, was an attractive woman, and they had hit it off since the first time they met, which was shortly after they had moved in across the street. They had hung out a few times and gone for coffee, sometimes Brenda would come over to ours, sometimes Sandra would go over to their's. They weren't best friends, but they seemed to enjoy each other's company. However, what was going through my mind was whether or not Brenda had yet told Sandra that Jasmine had not always been Jasmine. The thought floated through my head for a while, before my attention shifted to the prospect of the next few days.

Jasmine and I had concocted a plan. She was going on a university field trip to the Banff and Jasper region of the Rockies, or so she had told her parents, and she had left two days earlier than me. What she had actually done was to spend a couple of nights over at a friend's house before taking a separate flight to Vancouver. We were to meet at the Holiday Inn on lower Davey Street, where I had booked a room in my name. I had given the hotel instructions to let Jasmine have a pass key to my room in order to set up my conference equipment, and the front desk clerk had been fine with that. The conference itself was to be at one of the off-site buildings at UBC, and that wouldn't take long to get to by cab. Davey Street was not the best of areas, but that was the point. It was also less likely to lead to the awkwardness of being discovered with a lovely young lady in my company.

The flight was uneventful. A bit of turbulence as we crossed the thermals over the Rockies, but that was usual enough, and we landed at Vancouver on time. I caught a cab and headed to the Holiday Inn, climbed the stairs to reception and booked in.

"Dr Wright," the reception clerk announced, "welcome. As per your instructions, sir, your assistant has set up the equipment in your room, and she ordered some refreshments from room service which I have added to your account. She thought that you might be needing something after your flight. I trust that that is all in order, sir?. In fact, your assistant may still be there as the pass key hasn't been returned yet." If she was suspicious, the clerk was too professional to let it show, and it would make sense that after a five and half hour flight, and then transit in between, one might appreciate a bit of refreshments.

I thanked the clerk and told her that if that was the case, then I would use that pass key and not worry about signing out a second. I declined the receptionist offer of help with my bags, and headed for the elevator to take me to the fifth floor. Before I entered the doors I put a call through to Sandra to let her know that I had arrived. We chatted about the flight, and I told her that the room was fine. Then, after exchanging kisses and love, I entered the waiting car.

To my surprise I realised that my heart was beating faster. In fact, I was nervous, like a teenager on my first date. Perhaps it was the clandestine nature of the arrangements, the risk of discovery. Perhaps ... but I suspected that it was the thrill of anticipation, that the thought of seeing Jasmine again, of being with her again was the cause of my fluttering heart. It was true. Indeed, my heart was certainly palpitating, and my mouth felt curiously dry as I had a flash of her in mind's eye. Damn - I was excited and willed the elevator to speed up.

Finally, the doors opened and I oriented myself to the room number indicator at the head of the corridor. Room 517 was just down there on the left hand side. I hoisted my bags in each hand and took off, surprised that my pace was faster than usual. I arrived at the door and noticed with a grin that Jasmine had hung up the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside handle. "Atta girl!" I thought. I put the bags down and knocked a few times with my right knuckles. A voice muffled by the wood, still husky, answered "Yes?".

"It's Martin," I replied and picked up my bag and waited for the door to open.

There was a metallic click and the door opened inward slightly. My heart beat a little faster as I pressed my toe to push the opening wider and stepped into the room. It was much dimmer than the hallway as I stepped into the room. Jasmine was not at the doorway as I had expected, so I called her name.

"I'm right here baby," came her reply, from within the depths of the room and as the door clicked shut behind me, the bed side light suddenly came on. There she was, reclining on the still made bed. I was struck by her once again: her sudden beauty, the graceful curves of her features, the fall of her hair, the darkness of her eyes. My eyes travelled down the length of her body as she lay on the bed, a hotel robe covering her. I know I was smiling. I could feel my face stretch in pleasure as I set the bags down and walked over towards her.

Jasmine shifted position slightly, still resting on her left elbow propped up, and said in a silky voice "Why don't you go and get yourself freshened up, and I'll pour you a drink" as she motioned to an ice bucket with bottles of beer chilling off to the side of the standard issue hotel room table.

"Can't I have a kiss or a hug first?" I asked, in an uncharacteristically plaintiff tone.

"Uh-huh baby. Not until you get yourself all fresh first, and then we can see," she said coyly smiling with the flash of teeth behind her full, very kissable lips.

"Oh if you insist, you tease," I joked and headed off to the bathroom, stripping out of my street wear as I went. I turned on the shower, and brushed my teeth, and then stepped into the cubicle hoping that Jasmine would join me. After I washed, I wrapped a towel around my waist and went back into the main room. "All done," I announced.

I heard her giggle and saw her point to an opened bottle of beer and some poured into a glass. The glass itself was already gathering cool condensation and I realised that actually I felt much better, more relaxed, having showered and I drank some of the beer enjoying the cool effervescence as it went down my throat. I set the glass down and looked at the vision of beauty laying on the bed. I realised that Jasmine had gone to quite a lot of trouble. She usually wore make up at home, but I could tell that she had made a special effort now. Her lips were glistening with gloss, her eyes shaded lightly, mascara on her lashes leading up to discreet wings.