Erotic Geography Ch. 05

### 01: The event ###

Morning came, and the buzzer woke us up. As we had done now for the duration of our stay in Vancouver, we had slept in an embrace, and waking up this morning, albeit rudely, our naked bodies were still locked together. I hit the snooze button on the clock and tried to summon up the motivation to pull back the covers of our love nest, to get up and to face the world. But, today was the reason underpinning this entire trip and I would need to show evidence of having presented my paper to be able to claim expenses from the research grant for the trip, so I reluctantly slipped out from under the covers and put my feet on the carpeted floor.

Jasmine stirred, sleepy, and stretched languidly, and looked at me. "Good morning, darling," I said and leaned over to kiss her lips. She purred her reply and a hand flopped weakly at my shoulder in an aborted attempt to embrace me. I chuckled to myself and said, "C'mon sleeping beauty. Time to get up."

As I got up, the covers turned over and the warm smell of our sex wafted upwards. "Damn," I thought, "why was I getting up again? That bed, that woman, they were a way better option!" Dredging up all of the gumption I could muster, I pushed myself upwards and padded to the bathroom and let out a long stream of urine in the first pee of the day. I must have had an erection during the night because my cock was semi-flaccid in my hand as I directed the stream into the pan, and I remembered an earlier encounter with Jasmine in the shower.

"Well, speak of the devil," I announced as I felt Jasmine's warm arms snake around my shoulders as she pressed herself against me from behind, joining me in the bathroom. "I was just thinking of you!" I felt the swell of her penis against my lower buttocks, and I could tell she was about three quarters erect. I finished, and turned in her arms and asked if she needed to go too.

"Oh yes," she replied and lowered the toilet seat and sat down. She put her hand between her thighs and pushed her cock downwards and waited for the stream to break. She forced a bit, and the pressure made her fart softly. She shot me a vaguely embarrassed glance, and I laughed and so did she when she saw how I responded. "Ooops!" she said coyly.

I kissed her forehead, and stroked her cheek before turning the shower faucet on. "Are you joining me?" I asked.

She stood up, flushed the toilet and took the couple of steps to the cubicle and waited for me to hold the door open for her. I smacked her buttock cheeks playfully, and she looked at me over her shoulder and smiled. My heart skipped a beat and I quietly expressed gratitude for being here with her now.

We stepped under the warm needles of the shower, and I reached for the soap and lathered it up, rubbing Jasmine down with it, first her back, and then her front. Naturally, I spent some additional attention to her ass and genitals, soaping them up thoroughly.

"I will need to use that enema today, babe," she said as she took the soap from me and beckoned me to turn around so she could soap me up.

"Hmm ... I suspect that I will too, darling," I replied, which elicited a girlish "oooh" sound from her as response.

"That sounds good," she said and squeezed my ass cheek for emphasis.

It was already difficult to not reach around and grab her and ravish her, and her cute playfulness just made the temptation that much more difficult to resist. However, we ended the shower without incident and got dried and dressed. Jasmine selected jeans and a blouse, ankle boots, and a jacket and scarf, while I selected a wool suit and loafers. I rummaged around in my bag for my papers, business cards, USB sticks, note pad, wallet and all of the usual accessories, went to the bedside phone and called a cab. "We can eat when we get there," I told Jasmine, and then once she had collected her papers and bag, off we went down to the lobby, the "Do Not Disturb" sign still hanging on the outside of the door. I didn't want anyone else in that room except for us. I didn't want anything to disturb our love nest, the smells, the semiotics of our intimacies.

At the registration desk I selected my name badge and introduced Jasmine as my research assistant and picked up her guest badge, and sighed deeply, turning to Jasmine, saying "Well, here we go then", and walked into the throng of people milling around the coffee and refreshments table. The organisers had gone all out, and we selected pastries, and fruits, and some nice strong coffee. We mingled about a bit, and participated in some small talk. There were a couple of faces I recognised, but I wasn't as committed to the networking dance as perhaps I should have been. I was already pretty networked with the person with whom I wanted to be networked. The rest were inconsequential.

Eventually the presentations started, and Jasmine and I sat next to each other in the main auditorium, in part because we were disinclined to traipse around to different venues, but mostly because this was where I'd be presenting in a short while. The papers were of a high quality, and I lost myself reviewing the key points in preparation, and as my time drew nearer I felt the familiar butterflies in my stomach. When my name was announced, Jasmine gave me the thumbs up and said "Knock 'em dead, tiger!" and off to the podium I went.

The paper was well received generally, and during the lunch break, several people came up to me to chat about it, to talk about their own work and to share their opinions and to give out business cards. I introduced Jasmine as my research assistant, and it was probably because she cut such an attractive figure that the men gathered round her to listen to her talk of her research interests, her work with me, and some of the possible future options.

Several of the men gave her their cards and invited her to call them if she was interested in pursuing her PhD, and I found myself admiring Jasmine's poise and emerging confidence. She was not naturally a chatty extrovert, but get her talking about something she's interested in, and I knew that she could hold her own. As we settled back into the afternoon session, I leant over to whisper in her ear "Well done you! Just like a seasoned conference pro!" and she flapped her hand at me to shush. I could see that she liked that though, and I saw her smile to herself from the corner of my eye.

The conference was going to be over tomorrow, and I had a flight booked for that evening to take me back home to Toronto, to Sandra and to a life that would be a return to the stolen intimacies with Jasmine. To be frank - I was beginning to dread the thought. I leaned over to Jasmine, whispering "Fancy taking off at the next break?" to which she nodded enthusiastically. I think that she too realised that the clock was rapidly winding down for us to be together in the way that we had become so used to. In the way that we, mostly certainly I, needed us to be.

As the audience applauded the speaker, we both got up and made our way out of the auditorium. Once outside in the fresh chill air of the mid afternoon, I turned to her and asked "So, what now?"

She looked up at me and without batting an eyelid said "It's enema time, darling". Her bluntness took me back momentarily. But I knew what she was referring to. She wanted us both clean, because that meant that we would be spending the rest of the day making ardent love, me topping her, and her topping me, switching between dominance and surrender, and that she didn't want anything to get in the way of that.

I smiled at her and said, "I like the cut of your jib, babe!" and draped my arm across her shoulder, pulling her close to me. We walked a way, picked up a couple of bottles of beer, and hailed a cab which took us to the hotel. As she ascended the outside steps, I looked at her gentle swaying ass, the way she filled her jeans so provocatively, the swing of her hips, and I relished the knowledge that soon she would be naked and that cute little wriggling ass would be completely receptive and open to me. The thought warmed me up from the inside and I hurried into the foyer in pursuit of this vision of beauty.

Once inside the sanctity of our room, the warm richness of our sex, our bodies, our passions embracing us as we entered, we turned to each other and kissed. This was a slow, sensuous and lingering kiss. She broke off eventually, and turning to the bathroom told me, "OK, this time we're really going to do the enemas. I really fucking loved what you did last night, but to be honest I feel so full in there I doubt there'd be any space for a pea, let alone you. And I definitely want you, so I've got to clear myself out," and she flashed me that wicked smile over her shoulder as she went into the bathroom and turned on the light. "Now where were we?" she asked no-one in particular as she rummaged around and retrieved the enema that had fallen from her hands when I took her last night. "Will you join me?" she asked, looking up at me.

I swallowed, and agreed enthusiastically. "You bet I will!" and walked towards her. "Just show me what to do - for real this time. I promise to try not to distract you," I added.

She smiled at me, warming me with its bright authenticity. She took the nozzle and reached over to the shelf, picked up the tube of lubricant and then squeezing some onto her finger and thumb, held the enema bag in her right arm and, in mock stewardess role, announced "In the unlikely event of depressurisation ...," looked at me and winked, and then continued, "smear generous amounts of lube onto the nozzle, fill the bag with lukewarm water, and then," turning around and putting one foot onto the shelf revealing to my view her lovely inviting ass and her hanging balls, "insert the nozzle into your ass, thus ...", and did so, sliding the black nozzle up into that delightful hole where I loved to spend so much of my time exploring and enjoying.

With the nozzle inserted, she turned around to face me again, and it must've been the look of lust on my face that made her smile broadly at me because she said "I know what you're thinking, you horn dog, you!" and then continued in her mock instructor tone, "then, squeeze the bag gently to fill your rectum with warm water." I watched as she squeezed the bag and looked into her eyes, and mouthed silently 'I love you!', to which she responded with a little wink and said in her normal tone, "Nothing warms a gal's heart as much as hearing her man tell her he loves her when she's taking an enema!"

After the bag was completely compressed, Jasmine continued, "Now we wait for a few minutes and do other things while the water does its stuff," and with that she demonstrated what that might mean by dropping to her knees in front of me, unzipped my fly and pulled my cock out. She then continued, "such as sucking your man's lovely satisfying cock for a minute or two," and then took me in her mouth, enveloping my soft cock in her warm wet mouth and sucking. This was the first time since this morning that we had touched, and my cock twitched automatically at her soft loving ministrations. I heard her purr as her tongue flicked across the tip and down around the glans, stirring my penis to release blood and to swell between her lips.

She stood up after a couple of minutes of sucking me, after which she held me in her hand, and then said, "And this is the part where we request some privacy so we can get rid of the water," and giving my hard cock a little squeeze she said, "off you go then - and don't touch that," pointing to my erection, "because I want all of it later."

I reluctantly left, pushing my erection back inside my pants and zipping the fly up across my bulge. I closed the door behind me and said to her through the door "I'll go and get some ice for the beer", grabbed the pass key and ice bucket and left.

Down on the next floor I found the ice machine and scooped the ice into the bucket. I couldn't get Jasmine out of my mind. I was so taken by her. I had her bad, really bad. And again the tensions and dilemmas filled my mind. What would I do? Tonight was effectively our last night together, and then tomorrow it would be all over, and back to 'normal', except - for me - this, here with Jasmine, was the new normal, the normal that I wanted to continue without end. The prospect saddened me, and there would be no easy way out. I was reluctant to continue to deceive Sandra. I didn't want to let go of Jasmine. I was uncomfortable with the idea of sneaking around trying to catch a quick feel of this nymphette, and yet I also knew that now that I had been with her so intimately, everything else would pale by comparison. I was hooked on Jasmine: a wonderful, smart, sexy-as-hell, funny and charming young woman ... the bar was now set so high, no-one else could ever satisfy these expectations.

Returning to the room, I made a split decision and took my cell phone out of my pocket and dialled Sandra. Strange how things had shifted. In the past I would've thought that I was phoning 'home', but now it was phoning Sandra: a subtle but indicative shift in emphasis. After a few rings, Sandra picked up. She sounded slightly breathless, as if she had been running. I checked the time - I guess that it was quite late in Toronto now.

"Hi honey," Sandra breathed heavily into the phone. "Are you okay?"

"Hi babe," I said feeling like a two-timing heel in doing so. "I'm fine, you okay?"

"Oh yeah," she breathed.

"You sound like you've been running," I observed.

"Oh no," replied Sandra. "The phone was in another room."

"Ah," I said, but not convinced. Something was off in her tone. I continued, "I've networked with some guys here and there may be a follow up contract in the wind, so I'm going to stay here another night and then come home on Friday. Is that alright with you?"

There was a pause, and then a sudden rushed "Oh yes, that'll be fine honey. Sounds promising".

"OK then, just wanted to check in and let you know. I'll reschedule the flight and then see late Friday then."

"OK, sounds good honey. See you then. Bye. I love you." Sandra seemed in a hurry to get on, so we said our goodbyes and hung up. Something wasn't quite right with this call ... something felt off: breathlessness, in a hurry to get going, and not a bit of protest at me staying away for another day. The thought suddenly crossed my mind: was she, herself, having an affair? If she was, then I didn't feel so bad for my own infidelity.

Somehow feeling lighter now, I swung the bucket of ice as I walked back to the stairway and ascended to my floor, a slight bounce to my step.

I opened the door to our room and entered, placing the bucket onto the table. "Hi honey, I'm home," I announced. Then it occurred to me that there was more than just a ring of truth to that over-used cliche: I did feel like I had come home ... home. The realisation hit me like a slap in the face. That was what I had been feeling, under the layers of my conscious awareness - being with Jasmine had begun to feel like being home.

"Hi sweetheart, I'll be right out," came Jasmine's muffled voice from the bathroom.

I got myself undressed, and slipped into the bathrobe still laying on the floor from where Jasmine had slipped it off our first night here. Picking it up and putting it on, I could smell her scent and it warmed me with a the thrill of association. I recalled in my mind's eye how she had looked that first night in her white lingerie, her garter belt and stockings, her bra and panties. How desirable she was ... is ... and how overwhelmed with a deep aching lust I was ... am! ... for her. I reflected, as I drew the robe around me as if it were she herself I was pulling closer, how richly satisfying it has been spending this time with her.

It was true, I was in love with her. I wanted her. I loved to kiss her budding breasts. I loved the taste her mouth and lips. I savoured the feel, smell and taste of her penis whether soft, small and delicate or when she was raging hard and engorged. I longed for her cum - I wanted to bathe in it, drink it, to be filled with it. I treasured the silkiness of it, feeling it in my mouth, and the thick taste of it as I held it in my mouth before feeling it slide down my throat. The feel of her soft balls in my hands, or against my face, how they would hang lower when she was flaccid, and how they would tighten and rise towards her body as she got closer to climax. I adored the sight and smell and taste of her ass, her pussy, and last night had left me feeling delirious as I had feasted on her wide spread and gaping asshole. I just could not get enough of her body. I felt my cock swell as I replayed our love making, her naked sensuality, and I felt tempted to reach down and stroke myself.

It took some effort to resist the temptation to touch myself, and distracted myself with shuffling papers and ordering the business cards and notes I had collected during the conference.

The bathroom door opened, and my lover exited wrapped in a bath towel. She looked stunning, even without make up or coiffing. As a plain Jane (or Jasmine), she was still a sight for sore eyes and I let my eyes feast on her. She smiled and said, her thumb jabbing over her shoulder in the direction of the bathroom, "I think it's safe in there."

I chuckled and said "I'm sure it smells like flowers, darling."

"Oh you charmer," she retorted, "I knew there was a reason I loved you." She continued, "OK babe, you want to give it a try? Or did you need a hand?"

I mulled that over for a second, and stepped out of the robe towards her, and said, "Go on then."

She eyed me up and down slowly. "I really like how you look, babe," she said and reached out the palm of her right hand, her fingers stroking the hairs of my chest, down to my stomach and just brushing my pubes, sending tingles coursing throughout my body. Damn, she made my whole body feel so alive and vibrant.

"That's good to know," I replied, and continued, "you make me feel sexy and desirable. That feels so good."

She smiled gently up at me, and I saw a darkness flash briefly across her face. "What's wrong baby?" I asked.

Jasmine looked into my eyes, and said softly, "I don't want to go home tomorrow. I never want to go home. I want this time to be endless."

I smiled at her and said, "Well, maybe not endless, but I am delaying my flight to Friday."

She looked up, suddenly brighter and squealed, "Really? You did that?" Then suddenly she was in my arms again, pressing tight, the folds of the towel pressing into my skin as she buried herself into me. "You really feel the same way don't you?" she asked. "You really do like me and want to be with me?"

I took her by the biceps and held her away from me and looked at her intently. "Fuck it Jasmine - it is a lot stronger than that. I ... I cannot imagine not being with you!" I carried on after a brief pause. "I am head over heels with you. I never want to be away from you. Ever. I ... oh fuck it - I love you dammit!" I concluded with a force that I hadn't anticipated but which captured some of the intensity of how I felt.

She looked at me for a long while, and then turning her head away said softly, "Then I guess that we're in trouble then darling, because I've got you so bad. I can't get enough of you. It made me cry when I heard the door close earlier when I was in there," motioning to the bathroom, "and you went to get ice. Suddenly the room was so empty, and it made me realise just how much I crave to be with you ... how much I ... how much I actually need to be with you, to have you in my life, to look up and to know that you're there."

I nodded as I related to her expression of longing. "I know," I replied. "I absolutely am crazy about our love making and overwhelmed by how sexy you are, but this is so much more than sex and attraction." I continued, looking her in the eyes, drawn in once again by how deep and dark they were, and saw the tears welling up, "I was so proud of you today, so impressed with how you handled yourself today at the conference. You're smart, and funny, charming, sincere and authentic. There's no games or hidden agendas with you. That is just so attractive."