He wandered around the reception Hall of the conference, nodding recognition to people he met last year. He remembered who they were, though often not their names. If he remembered them, they might also remember him. That was the trouble. He was looking for a very special woman. He didn't know whom, but he would be certain when he found her. He didn't want people who knew him see him picking that special girl. That could lead to complications.
He had an acute sense of smell, trained perhaps back when he was in a quality control group of a French perfume company. Passing a group of people he smelled the heady aroma of a female sexual pheromone, a special hormone the female body so often emits when sexually excited. The prim blonde in the group he just passed was in her mid thirties, trying to act cool and in control of the world around her. But he could tell. The pheromones he smelled evaporated from her body. She was hot, looking for a man, ready to take him for the night or if he's with a wife in the powder room, have a quickie behind the unused stage. But she was not the woman he needed. His sense of smell told him none of these groups of conventioneers contained his kind of woman. Convinced he wouldn't find what he wanted, much less safely pick her up in this convention, he walked toward the lobby.
He'd have to go to the hotel across the street and crash the conference being held there. It wouldn't be hard. His nametag for this conference would be honored by the other convention. Then he stopped in his tracks, as might a daydreamer who suddenly sees the train bearing down on him, as he was about to cross the railroad tracks. The woman he wanted was a caterer carrying a tray of appetizers, not an attendee here for the Conference High School Counselors. She was not exceptionally beautiful nor did she project the intense sexuality so apparent in many overtly sexy beauty queen types. She had a pageboy look, with her short black hair and boy sized body. She was simply a waitress, hired by a catering service for one night jobs like this. She had a provocative walk and sway in her body. Men noticed her. She seemed attracted to them, but she ignored their advances.
Then she saw him. She had been talking, but seemed to stop in the middle of a sentence when she noticed him staring at her. He strolled a bit closer and suddenly that smell of the woman-in-heat pheromone shifted from a background smell to a pungent demand for his attention. When she saw him, her body seemed to explode like a teargas bomb, only she poured out sex hormones that excited the men surrounding her. They didn't know what hit them. She was roaring furnace of sexual desire. She emitted more sexual pheromones than any girl he had ever met. Other men suddenly felt a little hornier, but he was the only one who had trained himself to recognize and identify what was hitting him.
As he got closer to her, his nose told him one other thing about her. She smelled like his kind of woman. Many psychologists, specializing in love, claim that most men and women choose their mates because of smell. They don't know why they fell in love, but some primitive monitor in their bodies told them this person has a very compatible smell.
Unlike the other normal women looking for a man, this one was pure lust and she also smelled good.
She stared at him, forgetting she was supposed to be serving the conventioneers. He walked up to her, smiled, and said softly so nobody else could hear him, "Don't tell me your name and I won't tell you mine. That way neither of us has to lie."
She looked confused. No doubt she had a set of standard responses to advances and quips conventioneers made to her. But he knew with absolute certainty that she was his for tonight.
She felt horny. All these strutting women trying to attract a man for tonight's pleasure for no reason better than they were free at the convention and not being watched by either husband or boy-friend, and could have meaningless sex for fun and pleasure, and pretend she was once again a young sexy woman. The men had motivations no more profound than the women's.
True, she felt very horny and wanted to get laid that night, but knew she didn't have the guts to do it simply for pleasure. Tonight, however, desire for sex had a serious purpose beyond pure lust or even love.
Then, in her peripheral vision, she saw this tall man watching her. He was in his thirties, a conventioneer, which would make him some sort of advisor or counselor in a high school. She knew instantly, he was the man she wanted. She knew he was eager to take her. She didn't know why, she just knew. Then he walked up to her and quietly told her not to tell him her name. "That way either of us has to lie." She had heard every line and was even prepared to spend the night with the man whose opening line was prosaic and not as enigmatic as this.
Collecting her thoughts, she said, "I take it you're looking for some anonymous sex. A quickie or an overnight, or maybe a slap in the face."
"When are you through working tonight. I'll meet you in the lobby, near the elevators."
"That's presumptuous of you. Too cheap to take a girl out to dinner.
"I'll let room service bring us up drinks and dinner. It is you I want."
"Pretty sure of yourself aren't you."
"No. But I am sure of you. You want me as much as I want you. When. Now would be great, but you're still working. So when are you done tonight?"
"I'll be waiting for you by the lobby elevators."
She continued to offer her tray of finger food for guests standing by, drinking and renewing old acquaintances, and waiting for the banquet doors to open. She had to help serve dinner but wasn't scheduled to serve drinks and deserts during the after dinner talks. She would be free at ten.
Who was this man who so captivated her imagination? And she, she told herself proudly; apparently he was very attractive to her. Not just sexually. Of course they both were eager to fuck each other, really fuck, not just a casual quickie, but she felt certain there was something deeper going on between them, something more profound than just a few hours of in-and-out, and not just pretending they were in love. His initial wish that they be honest and not to lie to each other seemed to say that he had his own secrets and he knew some hidden emotions were bothering her, and they should either admit the truth or honestly say that they prefer not to talk about it. When she saw the man, she knew instantly that she wanted not just sex with him, not even love, something more important than either sex or love.
The doors to the banquet hall opened and people slowly poured in to find their tables. Hotel staff waiters served the multi-course meal while the contract caterers, like her, served drinks and anything the guests desired.
When dishes were cleared away and people swung their seats around so they could watch the presentations on the stage, her job was done. Yes, it as almost ten o'clock. Would he be there?
Her job done, she changed to her street cloths. She made sure none of her coworkers were tracking her as she walked over to the bank of elevators serving the lobby. She felt she should avoid him, tell him he cannot dominate her, but he was so intriguing, and, Damn It! Be honest, she told herself, she wanted, she needed him, no other man, but him, for tonight. She couldn't think of any man who ever excited her this much, not even her husband to be five years ago. She stepped out between the six elevators and there he was, walking toward her.
He took her by the hand - his touch was electric -- and led her to an elevator and pressed floor 7. A middle aged couple was already in the elevator. He took her to a rear corner, turned her around so she was facing outward and turned around and pressed his body against hers, shielding her from the view of the other couple ... With his left hand he tilted her head upwards and then leaned over to kiss her. She felt his erection press her abdomen. As his tongue slipped between her lips and her tongue met his, automatically, without thinking about it, her hands moved to his crotch. One hand rather roughly kneaded his stiff rod still under his by his heavy suit. She smiled mischievously and her other hand quickly unzipped his fly and reached in.
The other couple in the elevator was attracted by the panting noises she made as she kissed him. They turned around but couldn't see much because his body still covered her.
He felt the girl's hand stroke his shaft and start to pull his pants down. "O you want to play that game?" He grabbed the top of her blouse and yanked. Buttons popped and his hand was suddenly pulling her bra down. Her tits stared at him, proud and erect, nearly perfect cones, and her nipples stood up as hard as stone. The other couple stared in amazement.
The elevator bell rang. Seventh floor. The door opened. He led her by pulling her bra, which was still around her naked torso. She hung on to his erection. The other couple was still fumbling with their pocket camera when the door closed.
"Is he going to rape her?" The woman asked her husband.
"More likely she's going to rape him. That gal is hot."
"Lets go down to our room and have a quickie," the wife suggested.
"Let's do it right here. Lean against the wall. We'll do it standing." He pulled her skirt up and pushed her panties down.
Except for her panties, she was naked when they reached the door. Torn articles of clothing littered the hallway carpet. By the time he managed to close his room's door, she had stripped him naked and he almost fell as his ankles got tangled his pants legs. She still hung on to his cock.
.... There is more of this story ...