Room 238

Yeah, I'm the one who gave you that motivational talk a month ago. You liked it?

Good, that makes it all worthwhile. Just keep practicing SPARK. I'm serious about that. I guarantee it will improve your sales performance at least 50 percent. You notice I didn't say 100 percent like I told your group. Let's be honest and say at least 50 percent. But hell, I've seen guys and girls do 300 percent better. But not often!

You want to go get a drink? Sure, I'm up for that, my friend. Where to go? Charlie Dunn's? Where's that -- you gonna drive? Sure.

Yeah, I'm really sorry your marriage fell apart, man. And two kids. You get to see them often? Good.

You know, I'm feeling pretty good here, and you are too? Three whiskey sours puts the world in the right order, if you know what I mean. I mean, I'm feeling damn good.

OK, I'm in the perfect mood to tell you a little story. You will not believe it, and I couldn't believe it when it was happening. This happened when I was staying in the hotel where I gave you the talk. You want to hear it?

OK, cool. So I'm walking down the hallway to my room, room 234. That's part of SPARK, right? Developing a sterling memory.

After a long day of inspiring you all, I was tired; looking forward to watching some sports, having dinner, getting some shuteye. And down the hall walking toward me is this fabulous woman: tall, tight dress, immaculate hair, nice boobs -- not necessarily in that order.

You tell me if I meander too much here, will you? Three whiskies is my limit.

She's looking right into my eyes, and her hip movements capture my attention. She's so direct that I have to look away as we're about to pass each other. Then she stops and almost jabs a finger into my chest. She says, "You're the motivational guy that was talking in the Ballroom A, right?"

I say, "Yeah."

She says, "Verrrry interesting. I was giving a talk just down the hall. All women. About breaking the glass ceiling. I happened to catch a little bit of your talk during one of our breaks. You had a good turnout. Got their attention."

I thank her and have her tell me more about her shtick. She seems real interested in me, you know, and while we're talking I keep looking at her face and body. I keep thinking, there's more going on here than making conversation.

She's enthusiastic and friendly, and yet puts out this strong sexual pull, if you know what I mean. I'm thinking of inviting her out for dinner, but she beats me to the punch and invites me to her room for a drink.

Well, you know I'm married, but I have an open marriage, because my old lady knows that with my personality it would be impossible to go on these seminar tours and not have some fun.

So the beautiful stranger ushers me into her room, room 238, which is half neat and half messy, with a bra hung on a doorknob and the bathroom littered with makeup, a hair drier, and who knows what else. She pours me some vodka and orange. And then she proceeds to undress!

As she gets out of her dress and heels and pantyhose, she says she really, really, needs to relax.

My eyes are literally glued to her curvy bod. She strips down to bra and panties. I mean, these are so sexy and like, matching, that she looks like she's in a porno shoot.

So I say, "You aren't exactly the shy type are you?"

She laughs and says something like, "Nope. In high school I was the shiest girl around. But in the corporate world, you learn to overcome your inhibitions. You like what you see?"

"Well, yeah," I say.

She comes over and proceeds to unbuckle me, and remove all my clothing down to my shorts, which I admit are sexier than Fruit of the Loom.

So, we lay on her bed and watch some stupid talk show on TV. Her leg crosses over mine and I immediately get a terrific hardon. Pretty soon, she's massaging it almost absentmindedly while watching TV. It's not long before I'm getting wet down there.

Hey fella, I'm sure you think I'm making this up. Well, think what you will, but I will say this, that telling the story is making me horny again. No, hell, I'm not coming on to you. I'm as straight as a Boy Scout on a church picnic. Well, almost.

Want to hear more?

So, pretty soon, with the TV still running, and with some commercial about accident injury lawyers on, I lean over to kiss her. She places my hand on her tit, and pretty soon we're rockin' and rollin'. We're both about the same height. I place my thigh between hers, and she's in heaven, humping it.

Well, you don't need to hear all the salacious details, but just to say, we had one wild fuck. She sat on my lap, and I'm in her, and she's goin' up and down, and her tits in her bra going up and down, and all that.

She seemed real pleased after she came and of course so did I a little later.

Afterwards she hugs me tightly and tells me that I'm good; I'm a good fucker and lover, and she's glad she stopped me in the hallway.

I say, "You're really somethin' special, Tyler" ('cuz that's her name).

I wanted to spend the night with her, but she put the brakes on that idea. Said she needed her sleep to be able to perform the next day. I could understand that, and told her so.

Before I left, she got my name and room number. I didn't pursue anything further.

The next day as I returned to my room after another SPARK session, I walked down the same hallway, hoping we'd run into each other again. But no such luck.

However, HOWEVER, when I entered my room my hotel phone was blinking. So I picked it up and found her voice mail. She told me to meet her at the Greek restaurant down the street at seven. "That's 'cuz I'm part Greek, you know," she added.

She knew I had the hots for her.

So when I meet her over at Niko's Taverna, she's just as hot looking as before, without her makeup messed at all. She's wearing a dark-red dress with matching purse and red earrings.

The meal's great. Stuffed grape leaves and a shrimp dish. And wine.

So afterwards, we take a Lyft back to our hotel, and she invites me in again. She's luscious, you know, and not the least bit tired. Takes her clothes off again. New set of underwear. Her tits in that bra! This time I undress myself.

What I'm gonna tell you now -- I swear I'm not making this up! The truth is stranger than fiction, right? It's like the script for a porno video or something.

So, I'm very ready to jump into bed again and reach for the stars, but she slows things down. I wonder where we're headed this time.

She says, "Look, Conor, I really do want you to try something, just to please me. If it turns you off, well, that's just fine. But I really get off the most with men dressed in my lingerie. Bra. Panties. Pantyhose. Lipstick and earrings."

Oh, oh, I thought. This is some weird chick. I didn't see this coming! So I said, "Not my style, Tyler. Some guys actually do this for you?"

"Oh yeah, even some of the most masculine ones. The hairy beasts, with beards."

"I'm sorry I don't want to be part of your fantasy," I said. "I hope that doesn't mean the end of our evening."

She said it did, and I guess we were both disappointed when I dressed and went back to my room -- where I lay there, trying to read a book without success. God, I was hot to have her again. I kept rationalizing that dressing in her goodies wouldn't make me less of a man; that it would be a one-time thing.

So I ended up going back to her room after an hour and knocking. She was still in her bra and panties. She asked if I'd changed my mind.

"OK, yeah," I said.

She told me she'd been watching a porno film with lesbians making it. "God, I was getting ready to find my clit," she confessed.

So, because our body sizes were similar, she had me slip into a pair of her lacy, nearly transparent panties and matching bra which she hooked behind me. The feeling of wearing a bra, with tight straps, was getting more erotic by the moment. Then she sat me down and proceeded to apply lipstick. A pair of snap-on earrings and sexy heels were the topping on the ice cream.

She had me look at myself in the mirror. Can't say I looked very feminine! But I wasn't about to judge her predilections.

"Oh, yes, sweetie!" she says. "May I call you Candy, or Candice, or Charisse?

"Charisse, I could go with," I say.

So what was coming next? I let her set the scene, you know. She knew precisely what she wanted. And what was coming was even more unusual.

You wonder if I was feeling ridiculous? Sure, but also, wearing that stuff was giving me a major hard-on. I was going with the flow. I liked having a woman in charge.

So she brings out some Velcro straps and has me strap her across a chair so that her pussy's right out there between her legs, and so, so inviting. She sets up a mirror on her bed so she can see me approach from behind.

She says, "Charisse, Charisse, please don't compromise me. Don't despoil me. Please, please! You said you were my friend, and now you're going to force yourself on me."

"You asked for it, didn't you?" I say.

"I'm so sorry, I won't ever lead you on again," she said.

But I still pulled my panties aside -- so she could see my cock in the mirror -- and entered her pussy slow but sure. Her whole body quivered a little.

"Oh, Charisse, please be gentle. This is all so new to me," she exhorted.

As I was full into her, I reached over and cupped her breasts inside her sexy brassiere.

That's all it took. She quaked as she came, making it sound like she first resisted her climax and then rode it.

After some thrusting I came mightily too.

I have to confess that by wearing her lingerie, my personality took a new turn. I really did, for a moment, imagine that I was a woman fucking her, a woman with a nice dick.

After I finally released her, we both lay semi-exhausted on her bed, holding hands.

But that wasn't the end of it. She let me sleep with her if I wore her nightgown and had my hands, ankles and knees bound with those Velcro straps.

This girl was really into bondage!

So that's the story, my friend. The following morning we got up, went our separate ways, and left the hotel without even saying goodbye. But we began an email exchange, and plan to arrange our speaking schedules so we can be in the same city elsewhere in the country several times a year.

This, my friend, is something I greatly look forward to.

Tell you what, I've begun wearing panties under my male clothes. My wife wonders what started this behavior, but she hasn't complained. In fact, she started buying me panties.

So, there you go! That's my story, man. It's definitely put some spark in my life.