Our rendezvous was to take place in the bar of the Russell Square hotel. I didn’t question the location, although it seemed somewhat ostentatious. But she always had her reasons.
I arrived a few minutes early and went up the steps and passed through the door into reception. It was a grand and beautiful old building, marble floors and oak panels on the walls. The bold expression of traditional opulence refined by small and intricate little details and finishing touches. I was impressed.
The reception was busy. There was some kind of medical conference taking place. I walked into the bar. It was noisy, filled with groups of professional-looking people. Conference attendees no doubt, discussing that morning’s seminars.
I cast my eyes over the room and located a small table in the far corner, perhaps the last free table in the bar. I slotted myself between the people, excusing myself as I went, and claimed the table before anyone could beat me to it. I sat down and surveyed the room. I was on time, but she was always a few minutes late, so I settled down to wait. People-watching was always a favourite pastime, and I cast my eyes over the professional people in the room, wondering how many were doctors and consultants, and who were the smartest. It was then that I spotted her.
She was standing with a group of people, a martini in hand, listening attentively as a tall older gentleman expounded on some significant subject. The other people in the group were all nodding to his words, listening carefully, but she was looking straight at me, a tiny smile touching her lips. She was dressed conservatively; a pencil skirt, a simple blouse, a tailored jacket. Her short mop of untameable hair framed her gentle open face, from which her brilliant blue eyes blazed out at me from across the bar. She looked smart, formidable, professional, and achingly sexy.
I realised that she was a conference attendee, here at the hotel in a professional context, and these people were her colleagues. I wasn’t even sure of her specific medical discipline, although I knew she was held in high regard and renowned in her field. I was touched that she had invited me into her life in a way she had never done before.
She excused herself from the group and came through the crowds towards me. I couldn’t help but admire the sway of her hips, or fail to notice how many eyes moved to follow her progress. As someone who knew this incredible lady in a way that others might find shockingly explicit, I couldn’t help but feel privileged as I rose from my chair to greet her.
She came into my arms and embraced me as a lover, kissing me on the lips. I was expecting her greeting to be more formal considering she was surrounded by her colleagues, but she was bold and fearless. I found her hand in mine as we sat. Instead of sitting opposite me across the table, she took the chair right next to mine. We sat with our knees touching, resting our elbows on the table. She was so close.
Without saying a word, she moved my hand between her legs. My fingers brushed along the inside of her smooth thighs until I touched her bare cunt. I stared intently into her eyes, my fingers gliding across her hot, wet clit, and I watched the colour rise in her cheeks. I saw the way she bit her lip, the way she slowly blinked, the way her breasts stretched the fabric of her blouse. I was desperate for her, and she was desperate for me.
Abruptly she stood up.
‘Come with me,’ she said.
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