He was a best selling author. If you knew his name, well, let's just say you've heard of him and lawsuits would follow.
She was well known in literary circles; a well respected book reviewer. The funny thing was that she never actually read any of his books, so obviously never reviewed them. Nonetheless, one day she got an email from him, complimenting her on her reviews and especially on her picture. He was mesmerized, he wrote, by her eyes.
She was flattered to receive such an email, especially from an author so well known that he couldn't possibly be flattering her for a review. Intrigued, she visited his website and found a picture of a man about her age, maybe a couple of years older. He looked stocky and strong and wore leather. But in an ironic coincidence, what she especially liked about him were his eyes. They were glacier blue, but it wasn't the color that was so appealing, it was the sparkle there – the mischievous look of a bad boy. She always went for the bad boy, married one in fact and was happy. But there was something there, in that picture, that drew her in.
She answered his email, flattering him back, and so an email correspondence was begun. They slowly revealed things about themselves. He too, was married, and had a small son. She was married with two children. She had never strayed. He claimed not to, but she wasn't convinced. They were both big flirts and enjoyed each other's email.
Gradually, the emails got more personal. She asked him about the first time he had sex. He told her about a girl in high school and how innocent he was. She told him about being young and horny and a bit of a slut.
One day she sent him some porn shots that she thought he would like. Not of her, of the Internet variety. He loved them. He sent her pictures that he thought she would like. Then they moved to video clips. A woman sucking a big cock. A man cumming on a woman's face and tits. Fucking in every position.
They learned of each other's likes and dislikes. They both had a thing for eyes. He loved big tits. She had them. She had an oral obsession with sucking cock. He loved that. She enjoyed being fucked in the ass occasionally. He'd never tried it but was intrigued. She described her favorite position for sucking cock: lying on her back across the bed, her head hanging over the edge. He stands above her, his cock sliding down her throat, his balls bouncing off her nose, his hands on her tits.
He started to get a little obsessed with the porn, joined a service and was paying for the clips he sent her. Finally he told her it was getting out of control, he was spending too much time looking at porn, ostensibly for her, and he wasn't getting any work done. He had a contract, and a book to write.
Things cooled off, slowed down, as they are wont to do in this medium. But every now and then a sexy email would appear in her box, or in his.
Then there was a conference.
A writer's conference. He was invited. She was invited. She was scared, and excited and nervous, but mostly excited. She wrote him and asked if he was going. He wasn't sure, he had some family conflict. She wasn't sure she could manage it either. But as it turned out, they both went. She stayed for several days; he was flying in only for an afternoon. She was relieved, in a way, and excited, but disappointed too.
The conference was a dream for her. She got to meet some of her favorite authors, and reunite with others that had become friends over the years. There were panel discussions and luncheons and interviews and dinners out. She flirted of course; if she was breathing, she was flirting. But she was also on edge. No one else got close to her. She was waiting for him.
He arrived on the last day. She knew he would be there, he was giving a presentation and she found the room where he would be speaking. As she entered, she saw him up on the podium, talking with another writer. She moved to the front row, and he saw her. They finally met, in this very public place, and they hugged. She snuggled into his neck, breathed in his scent, and it pleased her. As did the feel of his arms around her, his body so close to hers. He had a job to do, however, and he went and did it. She watched.
Afterwards, he was expected to sign books. There was a line of people waiting for him, so she wandered around, wondering if that was going to be it. Maybe she wasn't what he expected. The line finally got shorter, and a man she knew was chatting with him. She walked over, and asked the man to take their picture. He did, with a knowing leer. They finished their conversation while she hung around, then the man she knew said goodbye and left. They were alone, yet surrounded by people. He asked her if he could buy her a cup of coffee.
They grabbed some coffee. She might have been happier with a drink, but he was flying and couldn't drink and she was afraid of what she might do if she had a few. She was afraid anyhow. She was very drawn to him. She found him incredibly sexy, and his eyes were even more mesmerizing in person.
They found a quiet corner in the lobby and sat down with their coffee. They chatted about inconsequential things while staring into each other's eyes. She felt very surreal; it was almost an out of body experience. She felt as if they were having one conversation with their voices, but she was not even sure what she was saying or what they were talking about. And another, much more personal conversation, with their eyes. She was drowning in his eyes and felt the heat pulsating through her body. They finished their coffee and he said he had to go.
She walked with him to the front entrance of the hotel. There wasn't anyone but the doorman around, and he was outside. She dropped her bag and threw her arms around his neck. He was being respectful, allowing her to take this where she wanted it to go. She kissed him then, hesitantly, and he kissed her back just as softly. She stepped back and he watched her. Again she hesitated, then stepped back into his arms. She kissed him again, this time with no hesitation, only with pent-up heat and the passion that she was feeling.
All thoughts of her husband and family flew out of her head. She was dizzy with desire and he knew it. Her nipples were like bullets, hard and pointed straight into his chest. A soft moan escaped her as she kissed him, holding on for dear life. She could feel his hardness pressing into her belly.
After an eternity, he pushed her back a bit and said, "Show me your room."
