It had been a hard day. All Michael wanted to do was have a meal and a glass or two of wine, a quiet stroll for the purposes of good digestion, and then settle in to his modest but adequate hotel room for a good night's sleep.
Tomorrow's programme at the conference looked heavy and his presentation was second on, so he wanted to be suitably refreshed and alert for that.
He changed out of his suit, washed and put on a clean, blue, Oxford-style button collar shirt. Rejecting a tie, he left it open at the neck and pulled on a pair of camel coloured chinos. Light tan suede loafers completed his evening's ensemble and he went down to the hotel restaurant.
He ordered his meal, chose a mid-priced but decent bottle of red to complement the steak, and took in his surroundings. Two north country businessmen were talking and laughing loudly in one corner, two tables were occupied by middle-aged couples clearly not staying there for business reasons and two trendy young women, who probably were some corporation or other's rising young executives, were engaged in conversation or maybe gossip over their starters and a bottle of Chardonnay.
As his soup arrived, so did a middle-aged woman, ultra chic and expensively dressed. Greeted by the headwaiter with kisses on both cheeks, she was ushered immediately to a corner table from which, Michael guessed, she could see the entire room without having to turn her head. She would able to see who was arriving, who was leaving and what everyone was doing as they sat there.
He was intrigued by the new arrival, but paid no further attention to her until he'd finished his soup. As the waiter arrived to remove the empty bowl, he turned to look at her. She looked straight at him and he immediately averted his gaze to call over the wine waiter, as if that had been his intention all along. He ordered a small bottle of still water and, having done so, gave another half-glance at the woman who was still staring straight back at him.
Michael made no further attempt to look at her, finished his meal and signed for it. Downing the last drop of wine, he left the table intent on his planned walk round the small but well-maintained hotel garden before turning in. It was a fine late Spring evening, a late afternoon shower having left the air feeling fresh and pleasant.
His journey from the restaurant took him through the reception area into a conservatory that ran the length of the building. He was just about to step out into the garden when he heard a well-modulated female voice behind him.
"Excuse me."
He turned to see the late arrival from the restaurant.
"Can I help you?" he asked
"I hope so," she said in an almost business like manner. "I wondered if you would care to have a drink with me."
For a moment, Michael was taking aback. He knew that among the younger generation it was quite normal these days for girls to make the first approach in night clubs and so on, but at the age of 44 he had thought any such circumstance unlikely to happen to him.
"I was just going to take a stroll round the garden," he said, realising as he did so that he probably sounded more than a little lame.
"Then I will come with you and perhaps you will let me buy you a drink when we come back," she countered, putting her arm through his and gesturing for him to lead the way.
They walked together in silence, though not an awkward silence Michael realised. It seemed a quite natural thing to do. As they walked, he shot the occasional glance at his new companion. Late 30's he reckoned, immaculately coiffured and made-up, expensively dressed with what he guessed was a pretty fit body underneath. The phrase "high maintenance" sprang quickly to his mind.
Their stroll round the garden took no more than 4 minutes in which time, they said no more than a dozen words between them – "lovely evening", " beautiful garden", "gorgeous flowers", and so on.
Stepping back into the hotel, she let go of his arm and stood in front of him almost barring his way.
"Now – that drink", she said, as if taking command of the situation. "My room?"
This time Michael was taken aback but found himself nodding in agreement. He was suddenly aware of an almost pubescent nervousness that he was getting himself into uncharted territory with no idea where all this was headed.
She – by now having introduced herself as Karen – obviously did.
In her room, or rather her suite as it turned out to be, she invited him to sit and disappeared into the bedroom. Less than five minutes later she returned having changed from her business suit into a long flowing and totally see-through nylon chemise. Michael tried not to stare but not help himself when he realised without any difficulty at all that she was totally naked underneath.
After room service brought their drinks – two bacardi and coke's – she gave him his glass and sat next to him on the sofa. Ruffling his hair with one hand, she undid his the top buttons of his shirt with the other, then leaned into him and kissed him. A long, slow lingering kiss. He kissed her back, quite unsure why this was happening, but in no way objecting to the fact that it was.
As they kissed his one arm was round her shoulder, the other resting on her arm until she guided it onto her breast. Through the thin nylon he felt the firm but yielding form and let his fingers stray on to her nipple. It was already erect, but seemed to jump at his touch.
"Oh, yessss," she gasped, "I love that. Suck it baby, please."
