Traci Lewis made a fatal error on a business trip to Los Angeles last July.

The interior design firm she owned in Boston was well known for creating
distinctive residential and commercial installations for upscale residential and
commercial clients in the Cambridge area and she traveled to LA frequently to
supervise her suppliers’ custom manufacturing work she needed for her projects.

It was a routine trip for her.  She had flown to L.A. from the Logan Airport in
Boston as usual, took a cab to the studios of Creative Weavers, Inc. in Thousand
Oaks and inspected their work in progress on some unique wall hangings she’d
designed.  The work was going perfectly and they assured delivery in Boston on
schedule in three weeks.

It had been a long flight; and she was tired so she decided to check into her
hotel--The Century Plaza--and refresh herself with a long, hot bath before
dinner.

The room was nicely decorated, she thought, for a large hotel catering to such a
diverse clientele.  The thought of calling her husband crossed her mind but she
decided to call him later.  She undressed and while the tub filled with steaming
water, she glanced at herself in the mirror.  You’re still looking pretty
attractive, she thought.

She liked her new hair style.  Her long, full-bodied red hair was cut shoulder
length in soft curls.  Her red hair was auburn, it was Irish Red.  Natural. She
tossed her head, admiring the way her curls moved around her head.  She took
pride in never having colored her hair.

She liked the natural match with her pubic hair.  Her bush was full and natural. 
She had shaved it once, a few years ago and had decided the more hair she had on
her pussy the better she liked it.

Traci’s body was tall and slender.  She was five feet eight inches tall.  Her
waist was small; her stomach muscles kept taut by a dedicated regimen of exercise
at the club.

She cupped her breasts with both hands, enjoying watching herself in the mirror. 
She loved her breasts.  At age 38, they were still firm and full, measuring a
perfect 36 inches.  She touched her rose-brown nipples with the tips of her
fingers, caressing them.  They began to harden.  The idea of moving her hands to
her vagina occurred to her about the time the tub filled with warm, soothing
water.

She slipped into it and flicked on the water jet control to release an underwater
body massage.  The water jets were so soothing, so relaxing.  She moved down,
raising her long legs up onto the side of the tub, positioning herself so that
her pussy was just an inch away from the hot, foaming, bubbling gush of water. 
She widened her legs even more, allowing the complete water jet to shoot through
the open lips of her labia into her hot vagina. She squeezed her nipples with her
fingers.  Even though she was totally immersed in water she could feel vagina
moistening, lubricating itself under water.

She raised her pelvis out of the water to admire her pussy, to touch it.  She was
excited by the look of her hot, wetted pubic hair as it emerged from the bubbling
water.  Traci couldn’t resist.  She touched it with her hand, petted it, and
traced one long finger around the outer lips of her labia, spread out before her
like a delicate flower.  She realized she couldn’t stop now.  She needed more.

She inserted one finger deep inside her pulsated pussy, moving it slowly in a
small circular strokes.  She used her other hand to gently stretch her pussy open
even wider, exposing her clitoris.  It was erect as it moved out from under its
hood.  Erotic waves of sex began to move within her.  She touched the tip of her
little clitty very lightly at first, just brushing it with her fingers.  Little
shivers ran through her body in the water.  Her brain asked Terri for more, more.

It was at that point, she remembered she had tucked her vibrator inside her
suitcase as she packed it in Boston so early that morning.  As she inserted the
second finger in her pussy, Traci thought how wonderful her “Travel Mate”
vibrator made her orgasms, often much more intense than she was able to achieve
with her hands alone.

She decided she had to have it.

Quickly, she got up from the tub and moved toward the bedroom without drying
herself with a towel.  She kept one hand on her pussy as she walked and released
it only when she needed both hands to unzip her luggage in the bedroom.  She
removed the big, black rubber vibrator from its case and turned it to high as she
lay down on the bed and spread her legs.  She was breathing fast and heavy in
anticipation of the sexual pleasure the vibrator was about to bring her.

The buzzing noise made her pussy juices flow freely, mingling with the hot bath
water running down her thighs.  It was ten inches long for deep penetration, and
for even greater pleasure, it had a small clitoris stimulator built into its
base.

Traci knew exactly how to use it.  She turned her body around facing the large
mirror and watched herself spread her pussy wide.  Just before she inserted the
vibrator, she sunk two fingers inside her vagina and put them into her mouth. 
She loved to taste her own honey.  The vibrator buzzed.  Her mental stimulation
was at its peak  Her brain silently screamed for the vibrator.

Just as she began fucking herself, a key clicked the lock and opened the door of
her room and a man walked in.