[This is a true story, up to a point. This is what might have happened, if I hadn't been a gentleman (or too scared, lol)!]
I travel a lot with my job. I don't mind. I enjoy getting away from my wife. It is sufficient to say that my marriage was "on the rocks", but had been for years – I just wasn't ready to face up to it - so these trips were a welcome relief.
I found myself in Brisbane, Australia several years ago, and although the days were hard work, I had a few good evenings to relax. People in Brisbane seem to take their fun seriously, and I often woke with raging hangovers, but always eager to do more.
This particular evening I was to escort one of the new girls from the office to dinner. Or rather, it was an unwritten rule in the firm, that all visitors to the firm were escorted for evenings, so as not to be isolated. Her name was Bernice, and she was 22 years young. Even though Bernie had only been in the firm a few weeks, she was elected to be my escort for the evening. I didn't mind.
At less than 5', and probably only 90 pounds, Bernie was a bit on the petite size for me, but she had a great smile, and happy personality (she did have a cute body though, I never miss the chance to view the ladies as I pass them by). I was 34 years old, and nearly old enough to be from another generation. But my dinner escort was decided.
I had been in town for four nights and decided to stay close to the hotel, after several hot (temperature, Brisbane in summer gets to the high 100's) nights out. I suggested we simply meet at my hotel for drinks and a meal in the dining room. "Sure" she said, casually, and I left work to go back to my room and freshen up. We had agreed she would call on me at 7pm.
I expected a call from her, from the lobby, to tell me she had arrived, but instead I heard a quiet knock on he door. Fuck, I wasn't dressed. I grabbed my pants and as I was zipping them up I opened the door. Bernie was standing there.
"Hi," I said. "Do you mind if you come in for a few minutes, I had a quick nap when I got here, and am still running around getting ready?"
"Hi," she giggled, and she walked in to my room. "Sure, Bob, I don't mind. Take you time. "
I wasn't in a state of nakedness, or even indecently dressed, but hadn't got my shirt on yet. As I escorted her to the couch, I quickly grabbed my shirt and threw it on. I then turned to her and offered her a drink from the bar.
"Sure, what you got?" she asked.
I stumbled and mumbled through the bar list, and she took a beer, and I took one too.
"Wow," she giggled. "You look embarrassed. Don't be. Slow down and take your time. I have seen men undressed before. " And she laughed, and blushed slightly.
Now it was my turn to blush, lol. I finally managed to get my shirt on, and buttoned, while standing talking to her. Then in a total bout of forgetfulness, I opened my pants to tuck in my shirt. "Oh fuck, sorry," I said, then blushed anew as I turned my back to her to tuck in my shirt and finished dressing, zipping my pants up. "Bernie, I am so sorry I swore. " I said as I was dressing.
As I turned around all I saw was her huge smile "Oh, you are a laugh," she giggled. "Relax, and get dressed, for fuck sakes, before you piss your pants. I have heard it all before. "
I finished dressing, we drank our first drink, and with very few more words we left the room.
The dining room was very attractive, and quiet. We were escorted to a corner booth with a view over the city. After ordering pre-dinner drinks, and looking over the menu, and ordering, we sat back and relaxed.
I really wasn't sure what we would talk about, except work, and I was resolved to not permit that topic. I also didn't really know how to talk to a young girl, no older than my own nieces. As I sat there making small, but inconsequential dialog, I did notice her outfit.
I said earlier that Bernie was petite, but she did have cute body. Her cleavage certainly looked nice, because I was sitting looking at her cleavage right now. Her outfit was a low cut dress, and the swell of her reasonable sized breasts were definitely augmented by the garment. Definitely not the sort of clothes she wore to the office!
She noticed I was staring and said "Look all you want, Bob. I don't mind, and my boyfriend wondered how long it would take you, lol"
"What.. eh … em … " I stammered.
"My tits" she giggled. "I like men looking at my tits, so does my boyfriend. He and I had a bet on whether you would stare, and how long it would take you too. I won. "
I gulped down the last of my first drink and ordered a second. Bernie followed my lead.
"Relax" she said. "It's ok to look. Really. If I didn't want you to look, I wouldn't have worn this dress. "
"Bernie, please," I said. "I... "
"Bob, stop, please. " She said. "I am totally relaxed with you. You don't need to apologize for looking. Let's just have some fun. "
The second drink came, and I gulped that down too. At this rate I would be on the floor in minutes but this was definitely not how I planned the evening to be. I admit I flirt, and laugh a lot, and would have with Bernie, but flirting and overt sexual activities are two different things.
While the meal was served, conversation returned to stop-start topics, with my "no-work" resolve still in place. Yes, I did answer a few general questions about the firm for Bernie, but I was determined we would not spend three hours talking "Shop".
I learned a few things from Bernie. She lived with her boyfriend, and had done for two years. He was a tour guide for a local tourist attraction, and they had met while on holiday. I told her a few minor things about my life back home, avoiding any "touchy" topics, especially my wife.
As the meal finished, the waiter returned to ask if we wanted after dinner drinks. I ordered a Drambuie (Scottish liqueur), and after explaining what it was to Bernie, she ordered one too. Drambuie has a velvet smoothness as you drink it, followed by a warm sensation, as you swallow, then it hits you. Nice. Obviously, Bernie liked it because in no time we ordered a second each.
The liquor was definitely making us both relax, and talk soon turned back to her tits.
"Bob, you didn't need to blush when you were staring at my tits before," she said. "I like people looking at my tits. "
Here we go again, I though, as I felt the redness well up on my face. She laughed.
"Let's get out of here," she said. "I wanna relax a little. I told my boyfriend I wouldn't be home till after midnight, and I don't want to sit here for another four hours. "
"Where do you want to go?" I asked, innocently.
"Anywhere I can kick my shoes off," she replied. "Do you think we could get some of this sent up to your room? Your sofa was comfy. "
What? What should I do?
"Come on Bob, for god's sake," she said derisively. "Relax. "
So after paying the bill, arranging for a bottle of Drambuie, and tipping the waiter, we were back in my room.
As soon as we entered the room, she kicked her shoes off, and ran over to the sofa. "Wow, that's better. My butt was getting numb from that damned seat. I don't have a lot of fat on my butt you know. " And she laughed.