Maggie at the Conference

"Bummer," I said, and resumed trying to make up for both that and also any other grievances that may have befallen her over the years. I kept strumming two fingers inside her; I reached up to stroke her nipple with my other hand. "You ever try roller derby?"

"Mmmm, good. Yeah. I mean, no. I've thought about it."

"Yeah, a girlfriend of mine did. What's the position, usually a smaller lady who skates real fast, the one whose laps score points for the team?"

"I, um, mmm, slower. Just a little. Jammer scores. Do you ... do you normally talk this much during sex?"

"Well, maybe not quite this much. But we're trying to combine the getting to know you and the getting it on all in one. Forty five minutes isn't a whole lot of time."

"Oh, right. Fuck. I'd have you do this longer, but I'm ready, now. For the penetrating. The enveloping. If you're ... "

"Well, we didn't pack ... "

"I brought some," Maggie said. "In my backpack. Could you ...?"

I got up to get them, trying to stroll through the room as gracefully as my bobbling erection would allow. Which wasn't very. But Maggie smiled as she propped onto an elbow to watch me.

"Um, Maggie," I called back after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Your backpack seems very-- "

"Oh, they're in the top pouch."

"Like with your phone, your wallet, um ...?"

"No, behind that one. It's ..."

"Ah, got them! And lube, it seems."

I walked back to join her.

"Your wife and I went down the street to buy supplies."

"Cinnamon and cloves, with a hint of orange peel," I read aloud.

"Well, we bought it at the Whole Foods. They couldn't print 'a perfect blend of spices to complement the sultry scent of sex.' "

"Wow, you should draft their ads."

"I know, right? But first let's test whether this stuff is worth my promotional genius."

I opened the tube, warmed some in my hand, then slid my fingers over her.

"Mmm, that tingles," she said. "What about, 'a bright bouquet for your bottom'?"

"Nah," I said, rolling on a condom, "makes it sound too floral. I think it's nice that this has dessert-like smells. The tube's conveniently labeled 'edible.' "

"Only the best for us. You ready for boarding?" She swiveled and rose to her hands and knees. Then wiggled her bottom enticingly.

"Mmm," I assented, and slid my slippery condomed self into her.

A condom dampens sensation some. The feel of her vulva squeezing my cock probably would've been better without it. To sense her skin on mine as I rocked my hips, easing back and pushing into her. She was wet enough that, bareskinned, we could've done without the lube. Her inner folds would have traced the sensitive underside of my penis.

But the best parts of sex are mental. I'm sure that some engineer could design a machine that rubbed my erection perfectly -- wetly, warmly, with a tight squeeze and just right rhythm. Available upon demand. Intricate, hygienic, and safe. Everything evaluated in advance by the gushing early reviewers on Amazon Prime.

This was better. I will gladly take the second best physical sensations if it comes with top-tier mental thrills. Maggie rocked her hips into me; I tried to match her rhythm, pushing deeply into her. She lowered her head; her hair fell on either side of her shoulders. Her back was freckled with constellations, supple galaxies that blushed as I traced a fingernail along them. Her bum fit snugly against my abdomen. Her breasts dangled within reach. And her voice! What possible pleasure robot could ever match the thrill of Maggie here, talking to me? A charming new friend with her own wants, desires, and personality.

"I like this," she murmured, and pushed the pillow aside so that she could drop her face to the fitted sheet, improving our angle. A lovely sight. I'd been bumping against her bum so lightly, not nearly enough to make her flush as red as she was. It appeared that Maggie was having fun.

I dropped my hands to her legs, her wonderfully strong calves, and then massaged forward. The underside of her knees were cupped like tidepools, and they were soaked.

Yes, she was definitely enjoying herself.

"I like this, too," I said, caressing the curve of her bum. "You're very sexy."

"Would you guess," she asked, pausing for breath, "that I've never done this before?"

"Been fucked from the back?" I asked, aghast.

"No," she laughed. "I've, unnh, I've done a lot of that. Fucked ... with someone I just met."

"We met yesterday," I said.

"That counts as just met!"

"Mmm, that's fair. I guess our conversation was good enough to forget. It ..." and I was breathing a little too hard to talk quite clearly, "... lulled me into thinking we know each other better."

"Mmm," she agreed, "I know you. Biblically, am knowing. You're right, we fit. But the suddenness is something."

"Is the suddenness part of what's so sexy?"

"What?"

"You're soaked."

"Oh," she said, and I could see the upturned side of her cheek blush now, too.

I draped my body over her, still moving my hips, now also nuzzling the back of her neck, and reached around her to stroke her breasts. "You're soaked," I said again, trying for my huskiest whisper, "and it's very, very sexy. If the newness of this is getting you off, I'm glad to be here for it."

And, see? It's the mental things. In that moment, the physical sensations of what we were doing didn't change. My fingertips on her nipple, my breath behind her neck, the steady rhythm of our hips. Her cunt around my cock.

When I spoke, though -- that's the moment when she let herself slip into it more, and came.

A lovely experience, my penis inside her as she shuddered. The arm she'd been bracing herself with slid forward until her chest and ribs were pressed upon the bed. I worried, momentarily, that her head might conk against the wall, but she kept her arm above her head and it cushioned her.

Maggie let her knees slide out from under her, stretching her legs down the bed. And so I found myself splayed directly on top of her, resting much of my weight upon her bum, with my erect penis still inside her. I tried to prop myself up a bit, to keep my whole weight from settling onto her, until she said, "Mmm, just lay on me for a moment, would you?" And, as I lessened my upward push with my hand, she said "more," until I let the full weight of my body press her down into the bed.

She lay breathing beneath me. I kissed her cheek. She tried to turn her head enough for us to kiss, but our mouths met askew, the geometry not quite right. When we left off, she said, "Can I lie on my back instead? I'd like to see you now."

And then we were able to kiss. Also, she guided me in again.

"So," I asked, hips moving languorously for now, "what else have you never done before?"

"I've never had a threesome," she said. From her face -- lips parted, and looking off over my shoulder instead of making eye contact -- it seemed as though she was trying to say this without smirking, trying to say it as though it were even possible to casually make this kind of remark. It isn't. But she came close.

"We could try to upgrade to a suite for our last night," I said, "but, today, with the kids sleeping in the other bed," and I gestured with my head to the bed not four feet from ours, "well, my spouse and I would love to join you, but it'd have to be one at a time. Unless you made arrangements with sauna guy ... "

"You heard about that! I'm not sure he's my type, honestly. Although it was fun in the moment." I sped up a little. Hearing her talk about sex, while we were having sex, was thrilling. "Especially for sauna guy. Especially for your wife. Her undies got quite wet."

I liked the thought that, while Maggie was giving a handjob to a stranger, she'd found her attention straying to the blossoming damp at my spouse's crotch. Yes, we would have to ask the concierge if we could upgrade to a suite. Some way to put a closed door between us and our sleeping kids. Maggie would probably really enjoy a threesome.

She'd probably be great fun.

Unthinkingly, I'd begun pushing into her faster, and harder. I noticed her eyes on me and realized she expected me to say something. But we were fucking, and I was fantasizing about us fucking, and all in all it was hard to think.

"I can imagine," I managed to say.

"But I did feel bad," she said. "Out of all of us, only one got to have an orgasm."

"At the time," I said, my voice only just barely not breaking. "Did you masturbate last night?"

Fucking, fantasizing about fucking, fantasizing about watching her masturbate ...

"Mmm hmm," she said, sultrily biting her lower lip and nodding.

"And those other guys. They surely both jerked off. And," I said, and had to take a deep breath, and hold my hips for a moment, willing myself to calm down. "And my spouse, and me. We were talking about you last night, and came. So that puts you up to six."

"That's pretty good, then." She put her hands on my ass and started pulling me into her again. "Six orgasms for my effort." She kissed me on the chest. Then licked my nipple.

"Seven," I croaked, and came.

#

After I'd pitched the condom in the bathroom trash, I lay back down beside her and ran my fingers through her hair. I began to hum a melody.

"Oh, I know that song, it's ... " she said, then, "it's ... nope, I forget."

I finished the bar, then repeated it with words. "Black is the color," I softly sang, "of my fuck buddy's hair."

She giggled. "I like that. Get me off again?"

"Mmm, I think there's enough time," I said. I nuzzled her cheek -- she was wearing those double helix earrings again -- and slid a hand between her legs. "Your body is a pleasure."

"Yours too," she said, and reached across to pinch my nipple. My hand was otherwise occupied, so I leaned over to suck on hers.

"I think I'm already close," she said, straining slightly. "Would you use your mouth?"

I shifted my weight around, keeping my fingers on her, and lowered my face between her thighs. I opened my mouth to her. Wonderful, wonderful. The remaining lube, my saliva, her wetness, all together in a smooth, slippery, subtly scented mix. I circled my tongue around her clit and slid two fingers between her lips.

"Cinnamon," I said.

"Oh," she said, remembering. "Does the lubricant really taste okay?" she asked.

And I found myself thinking, oh, don't worry, don't worry. Worries keep orgasms away. I pushed my fingers farther inside her, slid them around, drew them slowly out, caressing the inner skin of her vaginal walls. Then put the fingers of my other hand inside her as I reached my wet hand blindly over her body, to touch her face, first her chin, then her nose, until I found her mouth. She parted her lips; I dipped my fingers in.

She bit me, gently, then sucked, tasting us. That melange of slipperies.

"The spice must flow," I mumbled into her, pressing my cheek to the curly-haired ramp between her belly and her clit. "Who wouldn't want to conquer a planet for this?"

"Hnnngh," she groaned around my hand. She must have agreed that we tasted good together -- she seemed close again, her worries whisked away.

I kept up an alternating rhythm with my hands, my two sets of fingers sliding between her legs and in her mouth. She had her eyes closed, sucking. I pressed my open mouth to her, moving my tongue around. And I wished I had more hands, to expand her fantasy.

My mind latched onto the phrase monkey in the middle, strangely. She might be pressed between me and someone else, surrounded by body heat, our muscles and warmth, cocks in her mouth and cunt, her forehead bumping somebody's thigh, her legs pressed tight against somebody's hips, sweat trickling from our tensing bodies onto her face, her legs, who knows, maybe extra erections waiting for her once the current contenders came. She'd be in the middle. Surrounded by this sea of us she'd chosen. Mobius sex, bits of her body surrounding bits of the bodies that surrounded her. But, no, monkey in the middle is keep away, and we would all be sharing together ...

She bit my fingers a little harder when she groaned again, then almost apologized but I reminded her, "It's just my hand." I could feel her lips momentarily smile beneath my palm, and she relaxed again, and then she let herself suck and writhe and bite and groan. Her head was tipped slightly back, on the pillow. Her neck tensed. Her whole body seemed to glimmer with a faint sheen of sweet. Then she curled, pulling her chin toward her chest, her knees toward her breasts, and whimpered as she shook.

This may have been a good one.

When she had finished, I rose up from between her legs. Crawled to meet her at the pillow. And we lay together, silent, spooning. We gave ourselves a minute. Until it was time to hop up and get ready, her for the conference, me for taking care of the kids. We each took a fast shower, just to rinse off -- she washed her face but not her hair, which would have to settle for a quick tidying with a brush. We were bustling about the hotel room, naked, our haste pushing us into a familiarity that often takes months in making. A simulacrum of familiarity, at least. She still occasionally noticed me gazing at her body -- and I twice caught her lasciviously watching me -- each time, we laughed. And sometimes, passing each other in this small space, we reached out to gently touch the other's skin. As we dressed, we resumed our conversation.

"So you like Dune?" she asked.

"I did a lot, in high school. I re-read it recently, because a friend picked up a reprint of the board game, and this time I liked it a little less. The stuff about gender hasn't aged so well. And the parallels with Iraq, Islam and oil seem more blatant. But that's forgivable. He wrote it fifty years ago. It'd be unfair to fault him for being prophetic. You?"

"I only read the first ... "

I laughed. "You read it all. Star Wars is a series with two and a half films, Dune is a series with one book, Dune."

"Then I guess I'm done," she said, smiling while she searched for her missing sock. "I like that word for it, prophetic. The AI stuff, that he predicted how dangerous algorithms might be, long before anybody was worried about Facebook."

"Yeah," I agreed, nodding, and left off my own dressing for a moment to look at her. Her skivvies were striped, a simple pattern of blue and white. They looked quite nice.

She pulled up her pants and buttoned them. "And all the little details. Things that only seemed to matter for a paragraph or two. You could tell how carefully everything was thought out. The customs, the intricacies of their technologies."

As she clasped her bra behind her, I continued dressing. "Yeah. Herbert knew his stuff. He'd worked on environmental management, and I think he spent years writing that book. So, only sci-fi," I asked, "or also fantasy?"

"I like fantasy," she said. "But I like to know how the magic works. Like, it can't just do anything. I like when there's a system."

"Mmm, we had chaotic good sex, but you're also into rules?"

She smiled. "Just enough that there's some tension. Why worry if you know the hero can turn her enemies into potatoes? There needs to be some flaw, some trick ... "

"A source of body heat for sympathy in Name of the Wind? Bug-free coding in Foundryside?"

"Foundryside?"

"Oh, no, you haven't read it! Or, yay, you haven't, because now you get to. Fantasy, and cyberpunk. There's magic, but they're writing runes to change the way objects behave, and keeping them near libraries that define the function of each rune ... you'll love it."

She pulled her sweater down over her head. There's always a little ache, watching a beautiful woman finish putting on a shirt. Now you see it, now you don't.

Although Maggie had made rather clear that she might be seen again.

As early as that evening.

"I'll add it to my queue," she said.

"Mmm?"

"At the library." She laced her shoes. Shoelaces cause less heartbreak than shirts. Although it's funny -- that's when I noticed that Maggie wore sneakers with her professional attire. "My local lets you queue up books, and then each visit is like Christmas morning. Like, what did me of the past think that I might like to read?"

I didn't put on shoes. I figured that when the kids got back, we'd stay here and play another game of memory. If I planned things perfectly, I might be able to help our youngest win.

I hadn't realized, yet, that Maggie's scent permeating the room would be incredibly distracting for me.

She hefted her backpack. Ready for the conference once again! But, before she left, she stepped to me and we kissed. Open mouthed, and easy. Astounding, the confidence you can gain from an hour's experience with another person.

"I like gifts," she said. "Like this. It was a really nice surprise."

We heard a knock at the door. "Come in," I shouted, and the lock clicked and the door opened and the kids came bounding in. My spouse smiled at me. Maggie patted me on the shoulder, then walked out to join my spouse. "Wave goodbye to Mama," I told the kids, and they waved as the two ladies returned to the conference.

#

Okay, so we had a plan. The kids were asleep. One of us, my spouse or I, would have to stay there in the room with them, but we could take turns visiting Maggie upstairs. We used my spouse's phone to make a video call.

We had our bedside lamp on, illuminating our faces. Maggie's room was much better lit. She propped her phone beside her bed and began to disrobe seductively. Not that we needed much seducing.

"Shades drawn?" my spouse asked.

Maggie smirked, by then pants-less. "Should they be?"

"Mmm, I wouldn't." And my spouse patted my arm: "Go up and join her. Add to the show."

I took the elevator up to Maggie's room. She greeted me wearing nothing but her underwear bottoms. In a stroke of luck -- although you could debate whether it was good luck or bad -- the hallway was empty other than me. Maggie pulled me in and brought me toward her telephone. Our video call was still going.

"Watching?" Maggie asked.

My spouse said, "Mmm hmm," and Maggie proceeded to undress me. Soon I was down to my boxer briefs. Then I was naked. Then my cock was in Maggie's mouth. She'd lain on the bed, on her belly, facing me, propped up on her arms like a sphinx -- I only had to spread my legs a little to make myself the right height for her.

"That's really nice," I told her, then I looked over to the phone. My spouse was watching us in profile, smiling.

"I miss you," I told her, with a semi-sad smile on my face. Sad because it was true, I missed her then, and would have liked to have her near. But only semi-sad because her friend was sucking my cock.

My spouse laughed aloud, then covered her mouth, trying to quiet herself. "Aw, sweetie," she whispered, grinning. "I miss you, too. But this is fun. And the kids won't be this young forever. Everybody says that parenting gets easier."

Maggie lifted her face away and looked up at me to ask, "Are blowjobs more fun with two?"

"Feeling two mouths is nice. Yeah. But maybe she'd be ... actually, could you roll over, to your back, and we ... "

"Like this?" Maggie asked. She knew what I meant. Her head was right at the edge of the bed. And she opened her mouth for me. I slid forward, and leaned over her body until my mouth was at the middle of her underwear. I pressed my lips to the fabric and kissed.

When I came up, I said, "With all of us in the room, you'd be getting touched more, too. But we'll try to manage. Can I take these off?"

"Please do," Maggie said, lifting her legs for me. I pulled them up along her thighs and off her legs. Then leaned in again, asking my spouse, "Can you still see okay?"