The Dildo

If she wasn't up and answering my knock in the morning, I'd let myself in to make sure she hadn't died. And then I'd throw a bucket of water on her or something...

When I got to my room, my own god-damned key didn't work. I was about to go down and swear at the front desk, when I realized that in my drunken state, I was trying to use Lynda's key...

*

I had set three alarms for myself, a habit I have when I know I'm going to have trouble moving.

The first was instantly dismissed because setting it was stupid in the first place. After snoozing the second alarm, I dragged myself out of bed, showered, and suited up for the show that day.

I considered just letting Lynda sleep, but discarded the idea because I didn't want to work the whole damned day on my own, for fuck's sake. I was awake and suffering, she should too. My misery was demanding company. I knocked on her door, and when I heard no reply after repeated attempts, I let myself in with her spare key.

"Lynda?" I called quietly.

"Glarrrgg," came her voice hoarsely from the bedroom. I stepped toward the door and let myself be seen without actually looking through the door myself.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" I sang out in a voice far more chipper than I felt.

"It's you," Lynda muttered grumpily. "I was hoping it was a murderer."

"Worse," I chuckled. "It's your... dum-dum-dum... Wakeup Call!"

"Die in a fire, Davis," Lynda groaned. "And thank you."

"Thanks?"

"For reminding me to take Advil."

"You told me to take the Advil," I replied, smiling. "So it is helping?"

"God, no," she snorted with the tiniest approximation of good humor. "But when I remembered to dose myself, it must have been a half hour after you left. My stomach didn't like taking the pill and I was puking in the trash can I had left by the bed. Getting up to clean that out had me puking again. The second time made me feel much better."

"You are filling my morning with delicious imagery," I said drily. "Are you good to get up?" I pressed, concerned both for her and for my morning alone in the booth.

"Give me a chance, and I'll be right behind you," she groaned.

"No," I said, feeling like a saint. "Take your time in the shower, get some real food in you, then come on over when you are ready to be helpful." I owed her that much, after waving her dildo in her face without warning.

She merely croaked, and I let myself out.

*

To my shock, she arrived less than 90 minutes after me, looking... pretty great, actually. She wore a different hair clip today... in a different shade of purple. No customers were going to notice the slight green she had around the gills.

"Thanks again, Davis," she said, stashing her purse under our small table. I wondered if she had left her 'items' in the hotel room, or kept them with her. With her luck, housekeeping would probably find them, had she left them behind. "I feel almost human now."

"Good," I said, then grinned. "In return, you owe me a whole hour at lunch so I can go check out that sushi place we saw yesterday."

"You'll bring me back some take-out?"

"Deal."

Were Lynda and I bantering? I honestly had not noticed it as part of her skillset before. I mean, it certainly seemed like she should be able to be personable. Her sales numbers were actually better than mine. That didn't mean she was a better salesperson than I. No sir, that was my story and I was sticking to it. She just had a better territory. The schools in Cali, Oregon, and Washington were no longer any better than those in my territory in the Deep South, even though they sure used to be, but they still had a crap-ton more money.

This was the third time the two of us had worked a booth together, and every time before we had just each done our own thing, sharing the space and not much else. This time round, we fell into an easy partnership. Each of us 'casually' inserted ourselves into each other's conversations with attendees, bringing up an important selling point as if we had just overheard. Then we would sub-rosa measure which of us the prospect was responding to better, and the other would move on naturally to other attendees.

It wasn't fair to her, or me either, but as the day went on, and no matter how well we were working together, the boredom crept back in. I found it hard to not think of Lynda's impressive collection of sex toys. They, um, preyed upon my mind...

Then, toward the end of the day, there was a very high-profile seminar starting, and most attendees wanted to go. I didn't blame them, had I been free, I'd have checked it out myself. But it left Lynda and me quite lonely in our booth for nearly an hour. My mind was available to be preyed upon, and bored otherwise.

What the hell, she could hardly file a harassment complaint against me without the whole embarrassing Uber ride incident coming to light. Besides, she now struck me as much more of a Slap a Guy If He Goes Too Far type than a Run to HR type anyway. But mostly, I was bored.

"So how often have you had a TSA agent pull that purple beauty out at screening?" I asked, in the same tone I had earlier asked how she liked the sushi I'd brought back.

"Only..." Lynda started to casually reply, then froze and glared at me as my chosen subject matter fully registered. "Really?!?" she hissed, blushing a little. "You are going to give me shit over this?"

"Not really," I said with a mild grin. "But I thought that joking about it might blunt the embarrassment. Also, I've been dying to ask that question ever since I got over my own mortification." This was mostly a lie. I most certainly did want to have fun screwing with her mind. Nor was I exactly over my own mortification.

"And reliving it is supposed to help?"

"I just think talking about it is a good idea, or you will be suffering the image of your purple, rubber dong hurtling into my lap for the rest of the year," I said, beginning to believe my own bullshit.

"Whatever school of psychology you went to, sucks," Lynda growled, and turned to straighten up our brochures.

I just chuckled inwardly and moved outside our booth's footprint to take in the total absence of potential customers wandering around.

"For the record," Lynda said, not even looking up from the literature table, "it only happened the one time." I looked at her in a tiny bit of awe. "The agent never got it clear of the purse before he realized what it was and dropped it back in like it was a live mouse. My purse was approved and in my hands again in record time."

"Ouch. I feel his pain," I laughed.

"His pain?"

"Yes."

"Cry me a river, mister," Lynda growled. "But yeah. If I were a terrorist, I'd always keep five just like mine, in various colors, right on top of my purse. I could have a bundle of cylinders wired to a clock visible underneath and no one would go past that top layer."

"Ha!" I agreed. "Wait... That is your regular travel kit?" I asked incredulously. "Like all the time?" I winced, as that might have been a bit far. I wanted to tease her, not freshly embarrass her.

Lynda blushed for real this time, but then I saw her eyes narrow at me. She clearly knew I was just messing with her mind, and I saw the moment she decided to fight back.

"One of each type are my regular travel companions," she replied sweetly. "The purple one is new, so I brought it along, even though it's not exactly travel-sized. It does feel remarkably life-like." She paused and looked at me with innocent eyes. "Didn't you think so while you were clutching it so hard?"

"Touché," I muttered, probably blushing a bit myself.

Conversation appeared to be about to languish, but Lynda suddenly went on. "I mean, I'm not overwhelmed with social options back home either, the few days I'm there and not on the road, anyway," she grumbled.

"Mmm," I agreed. I had had a girlfriend until recently, which had insulated me from the worst of the road warrior's lifestyle drawbacks... Until recently.

"Have somebody back home?" she asked, as if reading my mind.

"The first show we worked together, remember? Back in Tempe? I did back then," I shrugged.

"Sorry."

"It was mutual," I said. That was only partially true. It was mostly me. I still thought ending it had been the right move. My dick often disagreed.

"Well, it's been a damned sight longer than that for me," grumped Lynda.

"Well good thing you have such an extensive tool kit to take care of the issue," I snorted. I found I preferred embarrassed to maudlin... in both of us.

Lynda looked at me again like I was the braying ass I probably was. Then she shook her head. "They do the job. Not that I wouldn't prefer the real thing, but you know as well as I, or anyone else, that tales of sex on the road are all bullshit, unless you are paying for it."

"True," I nodded. I figured I could embarrass her further here, though. "I'd be happy to help you out with your problem, except I don't come in a pink or purple option."

Lynda patted me on the head like a dog as she passed me to grab her bottled water. "I'm sure you are pink enough, Davis."

Come to think of it, one part does get pretty purple under the right circumstances, I thought.

That was way more of that than was good for either of us, if only to keep my pink part from becoming purple right there in the convention hall. "Think we will get many people coming back in here after that seminar finally lets out?" I asked grumpily.

"Probably not," she replied, now equally glum. "Want to get out of here early?"

"Jennie would have kittens," I snorted, referring to our manager.

"Yeah, but she isn't standing here, wasting her time, is she?" Lynda said tartly. "And... um... if that was a real offer, and not just a joke, I could be talked into accepting it."

I was too busy thinking about the risk (high)/reward (mediocre) of playing hooky to fully process her last words for a moment. Then my eyes shot to hers and what I saw there made me upgrade the reward side of what she meant by hooky to potentially astronomical.

"Um," I said slowly. "I really think we should hang in a few more minutes at least, but after that, what Jennie doesn't know will not hurt her." My words had indeed been a joke, and not a genuine offer, but I found myself willing to retcon the shit out of that at the moment.

"Yeah," Lynda sighed. "We should give it a little longer."

And so we sat. Bored and lonely, and suddenly very awkward around each other.

My mind spun. Not only was I horny and going through a dry spell of my own, but I was coming to grips the fact that, now that I was actually getting to know Lynda, I was actually starting to like her quite a bit. I also was figuring out that she really was hot, not merely pleasant-looking. And now, here I was, making us sit around a useless trade show, instead of going and fixing both our problems.

Worse, every minute we sat there was another minute for her, or me for that matter, to decide this was the bad idea it most certainly was. Possibly was. Might be. I needed to get us out of here.

"Eh, let's just go" Lynda said, pulling the trigger right before I did. It was not lost on either of us that we were punching out of the booth before the seminar let out, making for no way to tell if there was going to be traffic on the show floor at the very end of the day or not...

Regardless of whether or not there was going to be any business to be found later, the wisdom in leaving now became immediately evident in the way the Uber she summoned was less than a minute away. Once that seminar let out, and on through the end of the day, it would have been a ten minute wait or more... maybe even surge pricing.

We settled into the backseat of the Prius, and after a moment stared at each other. We smiled. "Please hang on tight to the purse," I said slyly. "I don't need the comparison."

"I'm not worried," Lynda said smoothly.

This was borderline surreal. I was facing an eleven minute car ride on the way to a recreational hook-up with a colleague that I had viewed as borderline annoying 24 hours earlier.

Kids, this is the definition of an awkward eleven minutes. We stole little smiling grins at each other, but otherwise tried to maintain a professional conversation as we rode. The second time we discussed the people we had talked to from the Boulder School District, I was sure our driver had to think we were insane.

We were not insane. Just nuts.

He pulled up, and we popped out with embarrassing haste. We stepped into the lobby and suddenly hesitated. We both looked awkwardly around.

"Er, drink first?" I asked hesitantly, nodding toward the scene of last night's crime just off to our left.

It seems to be the right thing to say, as it broke Lynda's sudden paralysis. "Please, God, no!" she snorted. "I can't take another drink just yet."

"Sounds like intelligent thinking," I said, and we grinned in sudden accord.

The next few minutes were a surreal series of serendipitous events that seemed like the world was propelling us forward eagerly. The crowd of yammering hipsters between us and the elevator magically evaporated as we went to push through them. The elevator was empty and waiting. No one else got on.

When we got off the elevator, we found ourselves approaching Lynda's suite first. "Your place?" I asked, figuring she'd be more comfortable there.

"Yes," she said smoothly. Then she ummed. "Assuming housekeeping cleaned up what I did last night," she said quickly.

"Your room it is," I laughed, and for the first time, I put my arm around her, resting my hand on the small of her firm, slender back, and propelling her toward her door.

She keyed the door to her suite open, and we both looked around to see if anyone else was in the hall to see us entering together. As if anyone who did see us would know us from Adam... and Eve.

The door latched behind us, and we both froze... momentarily. Then I snaked my hand back around her lower back and spun her in against me, face to face. She kissed me before I could kiss her. It was a good kiss. I hadn't even had time to envision kissing Lynda, my half-formed images had been of more... adventurous activity. Kissing a woman whom I had never even thought about kissing was... hot.

We came up for air briefly, so that we could share a look--each searching for (and finding) reassurance that the other was as into this as we were. One more breath-stealing kiss, this time with quite an amazing amount of tongue from Lynda, and we broke apart again. We were out in the very middle of the largest space of empty floor in my suite, and I was not eager to let go of Lynda's surprisingly supple form.

I changed my mind when she said, "I'm going to need you to not move from this spot while I see if I can remember how to suck a cock properly." I was more than willing suddenly to let her slide from my arms, and she knelt down on the carpet before me.

In a perfect world, which this otherwise seemed to be, I'd have taken a seat on the couch or somewhere, since I'd been on my feet all day. My cock held my feet at gunpoint to prevent them from making any outward protest...

Lynda ran both hands randomly over the hardening front of my suit trousers, then unbuttoned the waist and unzipped me. I slid my jacket off and tossed it away in a heap. I'd have to get out the iron and press it before tomorrow's day at the show.

As she grabbed the waistband of my jockeys, I briefly hoped that the dimensions of that purple artificial phallus would not make me seem... petite in comparison. I am not small, but I am sure smaller than that fucking thing.

But when she tugged my undies down and I flopped free, three-quarters hard and about that much enlarged, she only groaned a little happily, grabbed me gently and stroked me a time or two, which was all I needed to go-ahead and finish up with the hard-on construction.

"This," Lynda hissed, almost to herself, "is exactly what I need!"

"What you are doing is certainly what I need," I coughed appreciatively.

"Oh really? This," she drawled, stroking me up and down softly, "is all you need?"

"Okay," I gulped, as she licked her lips for me to see. "What you are about to do is certainly what I need."

Lynda smiled, still looking at my cock. "See? I knew you'd have some purple for my enjoyment," she murmured, tracing my now angrily purple head, swollen with need.

And she took me into her mouth.

Spoiler alert: Lunda had not forgotten how to properly suck a cock.

"Oh, good fuuuuck," I groaned as she swiftly took a prodigious amount of me between her lips. Eagerly, her tongue worked along my underside, gently pressing me up against the soft palate of the roof of her mouth, lips writhing around me.

My breath went instantly shallow, stolen away by her efforts.

At first, she only used her mouth, her hands resting open against my hips, as she sucked so much of me in and out of her mouth. Drool was already escaping her lips and dripping down me. I twitched as I felt it begin to reach my balls.

But then I felt her hands slide together, first grasping my dick as a team, but then one clenched around my base, while the other drifted lower to cup my balls, her thumb smearing the saliva around my scrotum. She began to bob a little shallower, her tongue able to be more active against my pleased purple head. This gave her room to begin stroking up and down my shaft with what at that moment felt like the absolute perfect amount of strength in her grip.

"Fuuuuuck," I repeated, more gutturally this time.

Lynda tilted her head up to look at my face as she worked, giving me an analytic smile. She let me slip from her mouth for a moment, so she could ask, "With no sex lately, please tell me you have enough saved up that I can drink this first batch?"

Asking questions like this? Lynda was my new favorite human.

I nodded feverishly to her as she resumed, adding a little extra suction than before.

I hadn't even seen her naked, much less touched her body yet. I was going to have so much more in the tank. So much...

But I was going to empty this tankful soon.

"First batch is going to be here soon," I grunted, lifting my hand to rest agains the side of her neck. She flashed me another glance, before bending down and trying to simultaneously jack me more vigorously while also taking more of me back into her mouth.

She worked it out.

I was suddenly rocking back and forth from foot to foot, my ass quivering tensely. My molars tingled. I locked my knees as I felt the surge. A line of pleasure stabbed upward from behind my cock, into my body, where it suffused outward. As it did so, I felt a spasm of sudden release, and my cock throbbed as a furious gush of semen headed for the exit.

Lynda glucked as it shot into the back of her mouth. Her lips worked to hold it all in without choking, and her hand feverishly stroked me. Then she slowed, and turned that motion into a slow milking one as she sucked me clear of every last drop. She swallowed several times with me still in her mouth.

"Lynda?"

"Yes?" she asked, releasing me from her mouth at last and looking up at me with a smile (and a little bit of jizz) on her lips.

"You absolutely still know how to properly suck a cock."

Her laughter was musical. Why did this wonderful woman keep herself so locked up under that boring facade?

I pulled her up to her feet and, since I am truthfully not a fan of tasting my own spume, I bent to ravish her sleek neck with kisses, to give her time to at least lick her lips clean. She merely wrapped her arms around me and looked her head back to let me go at her throat with abandon.

I loved the feel of her embrace, but I had to break it. She was still completely clothed. I had somehow missed the fact that I had slipped free of my shoes and stepped out of my trousers and underwear during her ministrations, but I still had my dress shirt, undershirt, and tie on.