I'm totally infatuated by a woman who works in the cubicle next to mine here at the office. Just a few seconds ago she and I were talking about some of the other women who work at our company and how attractive they are, or aren't.

I wanted to tell her badly how much I love her and how I think about her all the time. I wanted to tell her how pretty she looks today and how great her hair smells and that to make love with her would be so wonderful, how just one kiss from her would be all it takes to make me want to give up everything and spend my life with her.

But I will remain silent and console myself with one of the many secret fantasies I have of her. I'm getting an erection just thinking about it. It won't be long before I head to the bathroom to relieve the pressure, squeezing out all my come with visions of her in my head.

We go to the same conference every year. She and I have the same taste in wines and I've promised her I would bring a special bottle that we could share after hours. This is the basis of my fantasy.

"Your room or mine?", I asked, as we were walking from the restaurant back to our hotel. We had just been to yet another boring business dinner where we had to indulge some stuffed-shirt asshole who thought he had the only handle not only on business, but on life itself. As I sat there eating during dinner, I could only imagine how dumb he would look if he were to strangle on those lamb chops he was stuffing down his neck, and how I would not volunteer that I had had Heimlick manouver training. The bastard could fucking choke for all I care.

It was a short walk, but the January air was rather cold and we, being from California, hadn't brought any cold weather clothing. Wenda moved very close to me as a chilling wind blew at us from the side.

"Fuck, that's cold!", she exaclaimed.

"Here," I said, putting my arm around her shoulders, "We're almost there."

Just to have my arm touching her in any way was enough to awaken my penis. Usually, penises shrivel up in the cold. But mine was receiving an unusual dose of warmth from the woman of my dreams.

"What'd you say?", she asked.

"I said, your room or mine? You remember, I have that great bottle of wine I brought with me for us to share."

"Oh yeah. We could probably go to my room. I need to stay by the phone. One of my kids has been sick and I told my husband to call me if he needs to."

"OK. Your room it is."

We arrived at the hotel entry. When I opened the door, the rush of warm air felt really wonderful. And I had the extra bonus of the smell of her hair being blown into my face. I was immediately intoxicated by her scent, as I always am. She grabbed my arm as we walked inside.

"Give me about 15 minutes to go to my room and get out of these work clothes. I also need to call home to check on my sick son. Then just go ahead and come by."

"Great. I'll see you in just a little bit."

On the way to my room, I started getting a really big hard-on, just thinking about how in just a few minutes I'd be in the hotel room of the most beautiful woman in the world. While I couldn't dare to think it would amount to anything more than just a glass or two of wine, I couldn't help being aroused.

Standing there in the elevator waiting for my floor, I started stroking the growing bulge in my pants. "Down, boy," I thought to myself. "Nothing's going to happen so don't get your hopes up."

The first thing I did when I got to my room was to make my nightly "honey call." You know the kind - "Hi honey, how was your day, I'm fine, sure do miss you, call you tomorrow, good night sweetie, I love you, bye." - blah, blah, blah, the same old stuff.

Then I took off my business suit and ran a wet washcloth over my penis and balls to get rid of any untoward smells that might have accumulated during the day. I wiped down especially well, just on the extreme off chance that someone besides me would be down there later. I'd already decided that I would have to masturbate later when I got back to my room, certain that I would need to to relieve myself of all the pressure that would build up in the presence of my beloved Wenda.

The 15 minutes couldn't have gone by any more slowly, but I managed to wait it out without coming in my pants. Grabbing the bottle of wine and armed with my handy "Ah-So" cork remover I headed for Wenda's room.

I knocked on the door and I could hear her yell from deep inside the 3-room suite, "I propped it open, just come on in."

As I walked into her suite and shut the door behind me, I was greeted by the wonderful scent of her perfume, so strong I had to assume she had just applied it. When she came into view from the bedroom area off to the side, I was stunned by what I saw.

Wenda was barefoot wearing sweat shorts and a baggy t-shirt, like someone would wear around the house when at home alone or with family, when you don't care what you look like because no one is going to see you.

I couldn't see the outline of panties or bra because her shirt and shorts were too baggy. I couldn't even see the outline of her breasts in front. It made me very excited to think that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't wearing anything at all under her clothes, and at some moment I might catch just a fleeting glimpse of her intimate places.

Maybe these were the clothes of someone who didn't care what she looked like, but to me it was the clothing of a goddess. She could have been wearing a sack and I still would have gotten the giant erection I had at that moment.

As she walked towards me she was brushing her hair and smiling.

"My son is feeling much better. What a relief. My husband finally got him to sleep."

"Oh hell, I thought you were smiling because you were so glad to see me - I'm just kidding - that's good news about your son. I know you must have been very worried."

"Yeah, I've been really worried and feeling guilty, too, about not being there with him. Even though my husband and I haven't been getting along so well lately, I'm glad he's there to take care of the boy. But yes, I am glad to see you!" She smiled at me again that alluring smile, one of the reasons why I'm so smitten with her.

"OK, where's that wine? I'm ready to drink. I feel like I earned it today."

"I think we both earned it. What a long day! My feet are killing me, all that standing around."

"Jeez, me too."

"If you want, I'll give you a foot massage later that'll make all your cares go away - guaranteed."

"Oooh, that sounds heavenly. I'm going to hold you to it."

"Hey, it's a done deal," I said. I could hardly wait to touch her. I'd willingly touch her anywhere, I don't care, just as long as I get to touch that glorious skin.

We sat down at a table and I popped open the bottle and poured the wine into those hotel glasses they put in the bathrooms next to the ice buckets, hardly the correct type of glass, but good enough to drink away the day's trials and tribulations.

"Cheers," I said, raising my glass to meet hers. Our eyes met for a split second. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw something different in her eyes. "Must be my imagination," I thought. "She must just be tired or something from the day."

"God, that's great wine. You weren't kidding when you said it was good stuff."

"Only the best for my Wenda." I tried to smile my best smile, the one I reserve for special people and special times.

"Why are you so nice to me?", she asked suddenly.

The question kind of surprised me. I didn't know exactly how to answer it. I stumbled on my words for a few seconds, then thought I'd take a small chance by letting her know that she was something a little more special to me than the average friend.

"Don't you know how special you are to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're so nice to me. You always have nice things to say to me. It's a pleasure to work with you. If it wasn't for you, I'd have left this dumb job long ago. I think I can last for a few more years until I retire, as long as I think you'll be there every day."

All of this was absolutely true, but I was taking a chance of getting my feelings hurt if she didn't have at least some semblance of similar feelings for me.

"What a sweet thing to say! That's about the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. Thank you. You just made my day."

She came around the table and gave me a hug and a quick kiss on my lips. I felt as though an electric surge went through my entire body, discharging at the tip of my penis. Her breasts brushed lightly on my shoulder. They felt so soft and full!

Wenda sat back down and took another swig of wine and smiled at me again with that intoxicating smile. I moved a little closer to the table to hide the noticeable bulge in my pants.

We sat for a while drinking the wine and talking about some of the day's events. Pretty soon we had consumed about half of the bottle and were beginning to feel the effects, the warm haze that descends on your brain as the alcohol dulls your senses.

"I seem to recall someone promising to massage my aching feet," she announced.

"I think I can make all the necessary arrangements, for the right price, that is."

"Oh yeah? What's it going to cost me?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll think of something appropriate."

What I was thinking I couldn't tell her for fear that I would be rejected. I was determined to stay in her room as long as I could, even though nothing might happen, just to be with her, to gaze on her beauty, to smell her, maybe to touch her.

She smiled and moved her chair out from the table and a little closer to mine. Then she lifted one of those beautiful legs and placed her lovely foot on my thigh.

Everything about my Wenda is so very wonderful and beautiful. I don't have a foot fetish, but if I did, her feet would be the model I would compare all feet to. The foot she offered me was slender without bumps or protrusions. Her toes were straight without any signs of callouses. Her toenail polish was a pastel pink with a silver irradescent sheen. It was quite a lovely foot and I told her so as I placed my thumbs gently under her toepad and my fingers on top of her foot and began to massage my thumbs into the soft flesh.

"Oh, God, that feels so lovely!", she exclaimed.

She tilted her head back in the chair and closed her eyes. I took the opportunity to examine her beautiful presence in greater detail.

The material on the front of her shirt had stretched out a little bit and I could see that indeed she was not wearing a bra. I could just see the bump of her nipples which appeared to be protruding more and more as I rubbed her foot. The material at the "V" of her shorts had gathered and I thought I could see the outline of the outer lips of her vagina as well as her mons pubis.

My penis was already erect, but now it was getting much more so. I was going to need to rearrange it in my pants if it got any bigger.

Wenda moaned several times as I continued to massage her foot.

"OK, let's have the other one now," I said after a few minutes. "We don't want the other foot to feel left out, do we?"

"Heaven forbid," she replied. "This is so wonderful. You have no idea how great this feels."

"I give dynamite leg rubs, too, you know."

"Mmmmmm," she replied. And lifted her other leg and placed her foot on my other thigh.

It was then that I saw something I'll never forget as long as I live. Her legs were spread apart and the heavy material of her sweat shorts had opened on the inside of her thighs. She wasn't wearing any panties, either. I could just barely see a tuft of her pubic hair sticking out on one side.

That sight was just enough to make my penis the hardest it's ever been in my entire life! It was in such a position in my pants that it was becoming painful. I was going to have to make an adjustment right then.

I reached down with one hand, sticking my thumb into my waistband and using my fingers on the outside of my pants to make the necessary adjustment. As I looked back up to her face, I thought I saw her eyes quickly close.

"She had to have seen me," I thought. Well, if that was going to bother her, I guess now's the time to find out.

She continued to sit there with her eyes closed as I reached for her other foot and started to massage like I did on the first foot. Wenda tilted her head back and made some sighing noises.

After I massaged her foot for a few minutes I moved my hands gradually up her ankle to her calf, massaging as I went. She had the softest skin! She wasn't complaining, so I kept going further up to her knee, all the time keeping my eyes on that little tuft of hair peeking out from the V of her shorts.

She wiggled her butt in the chair, opening the gap in her shorts a little more, revealing the hollow at the top of her thigh where it meets the pelvis. Even more of that glorious thatch was visible. I could just see the edge of her outer vaginal lip.

Again I looked up to catch her quickly closing her eyes. "Is she playing with me?", I wondered to myself. "Does she know I've been enjoying the view?"

I moved up to massage her thigh and felt her body shudder.

"God, you do that so good! You must have done this before!", she said.

"No, I can't recall having done this before," I replied, which was true. I really am quite unversed in many sexual and erotic endeavors.

"Well, you've missed your true calling, then. You're a natural!"

I massaged up and up her thigh until I was only a couple of inches from her vagina. "Should I dare to go higher?", I asked myself.

I chickened out and went for the other leg, starting at the ankle and working my way up like I did with the first leg.