Dearest readers, I apologize for this one being a bit longer. It's hard to resist the temptation to write.
***
There was a chill in the air as we stepped out of the car, close enough to Lake Wakatipu to smell the delicate fresh water. This was the first time I've ever been to New Zealand, and being the fantasy nerd I am, it was everything I could ever hope for. If I squinted, I could see every part of the area that was used in filming the Lord of the Rings movies.
I was not the only one freaking out. My travelmate, another participant in this year's conference and friend from the university, dropped his bags and screeched. It figures the man who routinely coordinated with our advisor on video game projects would be more ecstatic than me.
We made our way through Queenstown proper, trying not to gape at the scenery around us. We only had about an hour to make it to the hotel, change clothes, and freshen up before we had to be at the opening reception. I had a room to myself this year, meaning my comings and goings wouldn't be monitored. I counted my lucky stars repeatedly on the long plane ride over.
I'd brought typical conference outfits: dress pants, low-heeled boots and flats, modest dresses with thin cardigans. In a separate part of my suitcase, I'd packed only miniscule thongs, lacy bras, and silk slips. You never know when you might need it.
For the first night, I put on my favorite midnight blue slip: the silk slid through my fingers like a gentle breeze and the lace brushed the tops of my breasts, sending a chill down my spine. I savored the sensation for just a moment before pulling on my knee-length wrap dress. A quick readjusting of my low bun and another swipe of lipstick and mascara and I was out the door. I didn't want to be late.
I hadn't seen him since the end of the semester. I'd finished grading final portfolios at the last possible moment and all that was left to do was wander around and say farewell to whomever was left. He was among them.
Per usual, he was frantically attempting to complete seven tasks at once. I popped my head in to say goodbye on my way out, but he had me sit down. We discussed some loose ends in preparation for this conference and a few other projects before he headed a month-long study abroad program. Even just talking about mundane details such as AV requirements with him got my heart racing. As I've said before, my advisor is no longer akin to George Clooney, but he's got a certain charisma, a certain way of looking at you, as though nothing else in the world is as important to him as you are right now and no one has ever said anything more profound.
It was because of this I'd never thought of him as anything less than a colleague. It was also because of this that I'd fallen madly in love with him.
The reception was tastefully done, with unassigned tables meant to encourage mingling, soft music playing in the background, and food and drinks constantly refreshed. I caught up with a few people I remembered from last year's conference when I looked up and saw him approaching my table.
"Make it alright?" he asked.
"For my first trip to this part of the world, it wasn't terrible. The jet lag is going to be the death of me, though," I replied, getting the gentle chuckle I'd hoped for.
It had been nearly two months since I'd seen him last and he hadn't changed a bit. He wore his trademark khakis with a rumpled button up, but he had managed to find black socks to wear with his shoes, instead of his usual white tube socks. The man had style.
We didn't talk much after that; the proceedings were opened with a hot-off-the-screen premiere of a work from a famous author. We all watched in fascination, appreciation, or in my case, amusement mixed with confusion. The president of the organization gave a speech about the breadth and quality of presentations this year and gave out all of the logistics of how the conference would work. My advisor and I would present the day after next.
At the first opportunity, I fled back to my room. The door was barely shut behind me as I kicked off my shoes, tugged open my dress with one hand and reached for my trusty dildo with the other. I never traveled without it and I never failed to get looks from the TSA staff as they scanned my luggage. I hardly lasted five minutes before I came and fell asleep, too exhausted to even bother with the rest of my nightly routine.
