We arrived at Logan Airport on the late afternoon flight. It was near the end of the summer and we still had a couple of hours of sunlight left on that Monday evening. Emily is an engineer, like me. We had been thrown together on a problem at the factory and had to attend a meeting the next morning. We had traveled together before, but not by ourselves.

We were used to coming up as part of groups of four or more people. We hurried to the car rental place, for we had yet another hour of driving ahead of us. On the way, we talked a lot. Mainly we talked about the problem at the factory, which was costing the company hundreds of thousands of dollars per week. We were chosen because we are both go-getters, problem-solving types, and we were excited by the technical challenge.

As the miles rolled by, we started to talk more about ourselves and our own lives. I caught myself admiring Emily's beautiful face and flirting with her more than usual. I also noted that she did not mind and was comfortable in my company. She had long, dark brown hair, that fell lazily from her shoulders to her waist. I felt embarrassed when I realized that she caught my eyes contemplating her legs, as her skirt had somehow moved up and exposed quite a bit of her black stockings. She did not fix it.

I was the one driving and almost missed our exit. I saw her smile and look away. She raised her hand to fix her hair, and the large diamond on her finger reminded me that this woman was not available. I, too, looked away now, concentrating hard on the road. Our hotel was by the side of the highway, a modern seven story building with an outdoor swimming pool and surrounded by trees.

We had made good time and, as it turned out, we were both equipped to go out running before dinner. As we registered at the hotel, we agreed to meet in 10 minutes and go for a run. They gave us rooms 604 and 605, across from each other, on the nonsmoking floor of the hotel. My room, 605, was long and narrow.

As I entered it, there was a table on my left, a King size bed, and the bathroom door. On my right, there was a closet, a dresser with a large mirror, and at the end of the room there was another small table with a TV on top, and a window. I used the bathroom and changed quickly into my running gear. I met Emily on the way to the elevator.

She was wearing an oversized plain white T-shirt and light blue running shorts. I saw the color of the shorts only because she had half tucked in her extra long T-shirt. She had the whitest sneakers I have ever seen, and no socks. Her bare legs were beautiful: but I tried hard not to be caught looking. She had made a bundle of her hair and tied it up; I could see her long elegant neck as she walked ahead of me and I allowed myself to undress her in my mind.

We walked out and quickly decided on a route, which we estimated to be about three miles, then started off. She was a faster runner than I, and I knew she was holding back to wait for me. As we approached the end of our route, she dared me to a race. I accepted and won. The longer portion of our run had been easier for her, but for the short run I was faster and it looked (to her) like an easy win; I was really exhausted. She was laughing, surprised; she had not expected me to win, and told me so.

We stretched a bit in the parking lot, made plans to meet for dinner in the lobby in 45 minutes, and took the elevator to our floor. We each headed to our respective rooms. I went in mine and walked slowly towards the bathroom. I remember thinking that the door must have some locking mechanism because I heard it click behind me a few seconds later than I had expected it to close.

As I walked by the mirror, I realized that I was not alone. Emily was standing by the bed, looking at me and smiling. I thought that I had gone into the wrong room. I glanced quickly back at the door and saw her light blue shorts and white underwear hanging on the door knob! I instantly looked back at her, to check for the missing items. Her long T-shirt served as both a barrier in my search and the most sensual miniskirt; I could clearly see that the back of her left leg was exposed pass her cheek, and that she had indeed nothing on beneath that T- shirt.

Her beautiful legs shone with perspiration and her breasts seemed to push outwards from her chest, for I could detect her erect nipples under the T- shirt. She had loosened her hair and it covered her shoulders. I stood still and said nothing; I was only able to return the smile. She walked towards me and said, "I have been wanting to do this for a long time. I hope you don't mind." She got close, and putting her hands on my sides gave me a gentle kiss on the lips.

I felt her pubic hair brushing against the back of my left hand, which hung dead on my side. I was stunned, paralyzed, and resigned to just let her do whatever she wanted. She grabbed my shorts with both hands and began to pull them down. They got stuck on my own erection, which amused her greatly. She knew then that I was hers to do as she pleased and went about her doing with more confidence.

Emily continued to pull down my pants and kneeled down to kiss my penis. She placed it in her mouth and caressed it with her tongue, once or twice around, which made my erection much harder. She grabbed my penis with her right hand and began to stand up again. She looked towards the bed and said, "Come this way". She pulled me towards the bed as if I were a red wagon, and my penis the handle.

She sat on the edge of the bed and, leaning back, she lifted both legs and opened them wide and high; "like a ballerina," I thought. She had a dark and abundant triangular bush of hair between her legs, slightly darker than the hair on her head. It was wet, for I saw it sparkle in the light. I felt the wetness on the tip of my penis as she guided it towards her opening with her hand; she rubbed herself firmly with the head of my penis, tracing her external labia up and down and then to the center. I felt the soft, warm, and very moist flesh, take me in and grab me. She used her hand to push my penis in as much as she could and then she grabbed onto my waist and pulled me towards her, making me go in further yet.

I could feel her vagina getting a hold of me, like her hand had, except gentler. I had my face against hers and decided to kiss her. She returned the kiss right away. It was our first kiss and it was a perfect kiss that lasted for several minutes. We pulled each other's T-shirts off and I hugged her bare body close to me, feeling her compact, perfectly round breasts squeeze against my chest.

My hands held her against me by pressing her in the middle of her back. Her hands continued to hold onto my waist and pulled me in. And in that one spot at the edge of the bed, without moving in any direction, without making noise or talking, without even messing up the covers, we danced the primal dance of lovers for a wonderful eternity. She was so soft and warm, her scent was so wonderfully inviting and familiar.

It seemed as easy and natural as breathing, and just as important to experience life as fully as we were at that moment. I felt her back straighten, her vagina close tight onto my penis, her legs swing like scissors in a short and fast rhythm opening wider and closing a little. Her breathing pattern became intermittent, fast paced and then a sigh, but still clamped in a perfect kiss. Her muscles tightened, and as if I could read her mind, or as if she could manipulate my moves, I began to move, not in and out. but rather back and forth, pressing my pelvis firmly against the upper front part of her vagina, which was forced open by the pressure and the lubrication, and her clitoris was pressed, in the wettest of contacts against my skin. I could feel it hardening and slipping beneath her skin, back and forth and sideways and all around. Then, the kiss became more open; she had let go, her mouth was open and a long sigh was building inside of her in short impulses. Her eyes were closed and I could admire and contemplate her at my leisure -- she was so beautiful, so lovely; I could have held her like that forever.