Scenes from the Conference    MF


Dripping rain, with her briefcase in one hand, purse over her
shoulder, a sack of books in her arm, she opened the door to her hotel
room, stumbled inside, and kicked the door shut with her foot.  To her
surprise he looked up from the overstuffed chair.  She blushed and
turned to go.  Again to her surprise, he rose and gestured to relieve
her of her packages.  She relinquished them gladly and stood there
blinking.

He took her coat off, shook it, and hung it up to dry.  Then, without
hesitation or awkwardness, he walked over to where she stood, bent his
head, and pressed his mouth to the steamy place between her breasts.
Instantly she shivered and felt all sorts of unnamable sensations.
For surely this could not be happening to her; it must be happening to
someone else.  She would never let such a thing happen...being in a
room alone with him.  But there was this undeniable head of hair just
under her nose.

The smell of her own perfume release by her body heat was intoxicating
and made her realize that she had never really smelled it before.  The
sweetness in her nostrils made her forget her usual self.  Was she
actually allowing the unallowable?  She disentangled herself, went
into the bathroom, and leaned against the door for a minute, savoring
how she felt...glowing, charged, and single-minded.  She decided to
give herself some breathing space to get used to her new self. She
would postpone her pleasure with a luxurious bath.  She filled the
tub, threw off her clothes, and stepped in.  While she lay there, she
heard the muffled sound of his voice on the telephone.

She washed and dried and wrapped herself in his terrycloth bathrobe.
She smelled his fragrance on the robe as she tied the belt, and her
head began to reel slightly.  She took a deep breath and opened the
bathroom door.  He sat holding a glass.  When he saw her, he leaned
toward the table, filled another, and handed it to her.  She took it,
brushing his hand lightly, and sat down across from him.  They
exchanged no words.  Her fantasies filled her mind.  She wished he
knew her fantasies.

She was more aware of her body than ever before.  She felt her nipples
straining against the terrycloth as her breathing became heavier and
more in her chest than in her belly.  She could not control the
tensing and relaxing in her groin.  Her attention was diverted by a
knock at the door, which brought dinner on a rolling table, complete
with candlelight and wine.  She ate lustily, exchanging a few long
glances, but mostly attacking her food voraciously.  Before dessert,
he stood up, came around to her and pulled the robe down over her
shoulders.  She stood up unselfconsciously, and the robe fell to the
floor.  He took her into his arms and gently pressed his body against
hers for a long, long time.  Headiness overwhelmed her...she, totally
naked, he, fully dressed.

The candles burned down.  The room was perfectly dark.  The prospect
of playing a new role excited her.  Very slowly she released herself
from his arms and unbuttoned his shirt.  When she had removed all of
his clothes, she led him to the bed and pressed him down.  Lightly,
she stroked every part of his face and then down his body, finding his
state of full erection incredibly exciting.  In turn, he stroked her
body with his lips and tongue.  His tongue and breath in her ear shut
out all other sounds.  Her pleasure at some moments became acute pain.
Her head rolled from side to side; her legs drew up and fell apart.
he brought her to the brink of orgasm with his tongue, and then
entered her roughly with the first near-violent gesture of the night.
They both came instantly, moaning and aching with pleasure.

Stillness for almost an eternity...maybe even sleep.  She stood, as
light was beginning to enter the room.  Once again she bathed, then
dressed and quietly left the room with her coat, her briefcase, and
her books.  The Conference was starting and her first workshop was to
begin in two hours...time to become herself again.