Just Another Conference
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2009 by Just Anybody

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A slow developing story about a young man who is pursued by women for ten years, and he has no idea who they are. They keep appearing when he least expects them, and then disappear again to quickly to discover the truth.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex  

The sun was barely over the horizon and she was all over me again, a repeat of last night. Without the wine clouding my senses, I was able to out last her, bringing her to at least three significant vaginal orgasms before I blew my load deep within her. This morning, however, she didn't want to waste time with any cleanup. As I pulled out of her, and while I was still hard, she threw her legs up even higher and told me she wanted to be able to watch me take her there as well.

I obliged, and while her sphincter allowed my softening cock to enter, once in she clamped down until I regained sufficient firmness to continue.

When she sensed I was hard enough, she relaxed her clamp, and with a determined look in her face, said, "Now fuck me like you mean it!"

I didn't know what she meant by that, but I did as best I could, and she came twice before I left my calling card in her.

"I hate to admit this to you," she told me after, " but you are the best at that I've ever had." With that, she rolled out from under me and headed for the shower.

I stood at the lavatory shaving while she showered. "What did you mean last night when you said you had traveled a long way yesterday to find me?"

"Just what I said. It took me all day to get here."

"How did you know I would be here?"

"It's not that hard. I called your office. They said you were on vacation. I knew that you always fly on a certain airline, so I called them and they told me you were coming to France. I called American Express and they told me where your reservations were. And so I came here."

"Wait a minute. You just can't call up the airlines and ask them that stuff, or American Express. They won't tell you that."

"Is that right? Then How did I find you?"

"I don't know. I guess I am more interested in why you are looking for me."

"Well, it's about time!"

"Why are you interested in me?"

"Why I am is not important, other than you turned out to be a terrific fuck."

"Why is someone else looking for me? I have done nothing wrong."

"You mean lately, obviously. And I would agree with that."

"And so?"

"And so I can not speak for any other. I told you what I thought of you."

She was getting dressed during this conversation, and was heading toward the room door while I stood there lamely in my briefs.

"But who is this other woman? Who are you for that matter? I don't even know your name."

"I know, it's a weakness you have. You have just had me in every way that it is possible for a man to have a woman, and you don't even know my name. You really have a tough time getting past shallow relationships." And with that, she was out the door.

Talk about a way to really screw up a vacation, this led the pack. By the time I recovered sufficiently to step outside, she was long gone. I went to the office, but they did not have her registered. There was no video of her car arriving or departing, yet she had certainly been here, and she was certainly gone now. And she was right; I didn't know her name.

I spent most of that day trying to accomplish what she said she had done to find me. I first called my office, but through the customer line, and asked for me. I was told that I was out of the office and could not be easily reached. When I asked how to find me, I was told that information was not available. I called my favorite airline and tried the same thing. I ended up telling them that I was my brother, even though I didn't really have a brother, and that it was a family urgency that I be reached. They were not at all excited about helping in the cause. Finally I called American Express Travel and tried to find me. I was told very politely that the information for which I was asking was not public information and could only be gained with a court order by official government agencies.

Who the hell was she, and how did she just do all those things that I could not do? This is all I could think about for the rest of the week. I didn't even attempt to coerce any women into my room. Eventually, I just packed up and headed for home. Vacations are supposed to refresh and invigorate so that one can resume work with enhanced performance. Normally I do not allow things to bother me, especially to carry on in my thoughts. Not having a spouse or family, my thoughts have only involved my work and its challenges, unless of course, I was trying to attract some young woman to my bed. But this mystery woman would not leave my thoughts. There were just too many unanswered questions.

My next conference presentation was not scheduled for several weeks, and while the main conference was quite large in attendee count, I was certain that my seminar portion would be modest in size. When I received the preliminary data from the registrars, I was flabbergasted. In the first three weeks following the initial promotional announcement, more than one hundred people had already paid and registered for my part. What was truly different was that most of these people were non-members of the group that was sponsoring the conference, a fact that made no sense whatsoever. I reviewed the names that had been sent to me, and while the number of females seemed a bit higher than normal, it was not so high as to be considered skewed. Two weeks before the conference, I received the final list, and my numbers had grown to one hundred fifty. The organizers advised that my room assignment had been changed to a larger lecture hall, and asked that I allot more time for the questions that would invariably arise from a much larger group.

As was my routine, I flew to the conference city two days in advance, just to review all of the details, give myself a day to rest and relax and review my presentation, and of course, to spend a couple of nights with the administrative assistants working that particular conference. Life was still good.

My presentation went well, as I had expected it would. We allowed an extra hour following for questions, but there were few that were raised to the assembled group. Rather than stand there in silence, I thanked them all for coming and suggested that I would stay to answer any private questions that they may have individually. That was something that I had done at previous seminars, and the typical conversation centered around the questioner's workplace activities. The line of attendees with questions began to form immediately, and the first several subjects were quite routine. I went from one to the next, spending a few minutes listening and talking, answering slightly different questions on the same issues. After about a dozen such chats, a very attractive woman, probably mid to late twenties in age, asked a question that had absolutely no bearing on the seminar topic. I don't even remember what her question was, but it is irrelevant. What is relevant is that the next fifteen people in line were all young women, all quite attractive, and all asking questions that became more and more personal as I moved through the line. The last few women spoke with decidedly French accents, and when I responded to them in their native language without missing a step, they blushed with embarrassment. I excused myself from the line, then, claiming a prior engagement and hurried off to the shelter of the conference manager's office.

Once there, I asked my bed mate of the previous evening for the actual registration forms of the people that had attended my seminar. What I discovered startled me. Thirty five of the forms had been faxed from the same phone number, but the individuals named on those forms purported to be from all different companies and all different locations around the U.S. This was not just another conference. Something was going on, but I had no idea what it was. I had the office do a follow up call to the number listed on the registrations, and that number had been disconnected.

I returned to my room at my hotel and decided that I would have dinner alone this evening and return to my office in the morning. I made my way to the lounge and considered that a few cocktails may help me analyze the latest mystery. The lounge crowd was building as the clock moved beyond work hours. While I could not be certain, it appeared that there was a woman standing in the far corner of the lounge that looked vaguely familiar. She was talking with another gentleman, so I quickly forgot about her. There was something about her though that made me look back at her occasionally, but nothing came to mind that I could associate with her face.

I had not bothered to make dinner reservations, but a quick fifty to the Maitre d' provided a table for two in a semi private area of the dining room. I was perusing the menu and not really paying attention to the situation around me when a gloved hand appeared on the back of the chair opposite me. I looked up to find a woman, yes, the woman from the far end of the lounge, asking if she might join me for dinner -- asking in a muted and very delicate French accent. She was already seated before I could stand to greet her. As she sat down, the sommelier placed two goblets on the tablet and began pouring what I recognized to be a very expensive French Bordeaux.

"Do you know who I am?"

"I do not recall your name, but your face is very familiar. I must apologize for that, because I seldom forget the name of a beautiful woman." I was trying to be polite and non-aggressive.

 
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