Frustration and boredom trigger a wild escapade
A special thanks to RF-Fast for helping to proofread and ensuring the story is in good shape.
Plain Jane steps out of comfort zone
I caught myself letting out an audible sigh and glanced at my wineglass. I didn't really want it, but the alternative was to go back up to my hotel room alone and mope. It was barely 8 pm and if I went upstairs, I'd just go to bed and listen to another audio book about people having a more exciting life than me.
That was the real problem, and why I was feeling so down. I was thirty-three and single, with my career seemingly going nowhere. I'd accepted a two-year secondment 18 months ago now, expecting it to boost my career. [A secondment is a temporary work placement, often in another location.] But the company had gone radio-silent about what I'd come back to. Which was annoying, as they insisted, I fly back to my old office every quarter and report on things.
I'd fly back for one day, getting up before dawn, see all my old friends in the office, and briefly catch up. Before meetings and an overnight stay in a hotel to wait for a flight home. Hearing about my friends getting engaged or having babies just brought home how nothing seemed to happen in my life.
I'd been raised to be thoughtful and considerate. Putting others before me and I'd been particularly good at it. Too good, really. Nobody else wanted the secondment. And to be away from their friends and family for that long, so I volunteered before someone was forced into it. I'm too timid really to stick up for myself.
And that was mirrored in my lovers, the few that I'd had. You might think that two people with the same personality would work, but there was never any verve to get up and do something. Week after week of sitting in and doing nothing but watching TV and waiting for the other to suggest something. Even the sex was dull. What there was of it.
I snatched up my wine and took a large mouthful and nearly gagged. Was this why I was down? Seeing my friends happy with their boyfriends and husbands, while I felt increasingly like the old maid on the shelf and forgotten. Damn it, one more glass of wine, then it might help me sleep and not dwell on my shadow of a life.
Looking over at the bar, I wondered if I could catch the barman's attention for a new drink. But I knew I'd walk over there to not put him to any bother. Then I saw a man at the bar looking at me. For a moment, I almost looked around to see who he was really looking at. Until I remembered I was sitting at a table with my back to the wall.
He gestured to his drink and then pointed to me. It was such an alien thing; it took me a moment to realise he was offering to get me a drink. I shook my head and gave him a slight smile, trying to take the sting from my refusal. But inside, I felt a flutter of excitement. Nobody had ever done that before. OK, I'd been at a table with friends when guys bought us drinks, but that had been for my friends, and I was included only because I was there.
Not that I'm ugly or anything. I'm just a plain Jane. Perhaps my parents were being prescient when they named me Jane. I'm about average in every way. Brown hair and eyes, a reasonable figure, mainly because I have little else to do with my time but go to the gym. The only thing that stands out are my breasts. On my petite frame, they look large, and I try to downplay them most of the time.
My grandmother, who played a significant role in my life growing up, taught me that a good girl dresses modestly and should never flaunt her figure. And sometimes I regret that I still struggle to break out from some of her teaching. Today, for example, I'd planned to wear a conservative skirt and jacket set over a satin cream blouse.
The blouse was a little racy as it was relatively low cut, but the jacket would cover it. However, with the taxi driver waiting at the door and me racing to get ready. I discovered my cat had been sleeping on the jacket and it was covered in cat hair. I looked for a brush, but the taxi driver impatiently reminded me I had a plane to catch, and it was a warm day. A jacket wasn't needed.
He was right, but I'd never worn this blouse out without something over it. Checking myself in the mirror, I knew it wasn't that bad but could see the ghost of my grandmother looking over my shoulder and tutting. What the hell. I rushed from the flat with my overnight bag in hand.
During my meetings, I caught Tony and Alan looking at me more than usual. During one coffee break, Dana told me that they had tried to peek down my top while I was sitting. I blushed slightly, and she laughed. Telling me to live a little, and let my hair down,
If only I knew how? I was so wrapped up in the rights and wrongs of things, the idea of anything wild seemed alien to me. Sometimes I just wanted to step away from myself. To do something outside my comfort zone. But I knew if something turned up, I'd watch it pass me by.
As I finished my wine, I looked up to see the guy from the bar walking over with another drink for me. His expensive suit screamed businessman to me. I'd guess he was in his forties, fit, with short and slightly greying hair. And with a confident smile. The sort of smile I'd expect to see on a car salesman about to sign a deal.
"Here, I knew you wanted another. Mind if I join you?" He sat next to me without waiting for my reply.
I opened my mouth, but meekly nodded. It was something I hated about myself, not standing up for myself more often. If I were Dana, she'd have told him to get lost and if he didn't go, probably dumped the wine on his head.
Actually, the more I thought about that, the more likely she wouldn't. She'd admitted one time, after a few drinks with the girls, she loved travelling on business trips alone. It gave her a chance to have a little fun away from home where nobody knew her. Of course, she said that was before she was married, but the way she said it hinted it wasn't always.
"The one thing I hate about business trips is you're either stuck talking shop all the time or stuck by yourself." He said.
I nodded again and pulled the fresh glass towards me. It would be rude to reject it after he'd paid for it.
"I saw you sitting alone, and I recognised the body language. Bored and wanting some company. Someone to talk to rather than being lonely stuck in your room, right?"
I gave a slight smile and nodded again. Good grief, he was going to think I was mute at this point. I'd not managed a word so far.
But that didn't seem to bother him. I got the impression he didn't mind doing all the conversation.
As he sat next to me, I couldn't help noticing the scent of his cologne. It was nice, but subtle. You'd have to be quite close to him to smell it. And I noticed the line of his jaw was strong, with a slight hint of 5 o'clock shadow. I blinked and wondered why I was thinking that. I wasn't about to let some random guy pick me up in a bar. I'm not that sort of woman.
He asked me a question that I had to get him to repeat and then we were talking about why we were there. I explained, and he said it was odd we'd never met. He said he visited every month, and he'd definitely have noticed an attractive woman like me. I groaned, and he chuckled and apologised for the corny line. Even if the sentiment was true.
We talked for a while. Well, he did most of the talking and he was charming, confident, and amusing. Without trying too hard. He said that he'd keep his eyes out for me next time and perhaps we could meet up for some company. The way he said it seemed to imply what sort of company he was looking for. But that might have been me reading too much between the lines.
He was telling me an anecdote about people I'd never known and leant in close to deliver the punchline. An innuendo, I wasn't sure what he meant. And he patted my knee, and I tensed. Which was stupid. He barely touched it for a moment and yet my skin seemed to tingle from his touch.
Good grief, it was like I was a virgin again. I'd had lovers who did more than touch my knee. Wait? Why was I thinking about lovers, from such a minor thing as touching my knee for a fraction of a second? Was I that hard up? Then I realised it was over two years since my last lover. It had died a lingering death, as neither of us had the courage to end it. And it was the reason for accepting the secondment. Not wanting to rekindle a failed relationship for fear of being single.
But it seemed that the knee touch to him was a litmus test. I'd not objected, so he moved closer and put his arm around my back. I looked down to see his hand on my waist. By rights, I should have moved it. Told him to behave himself and explain that just giving me a glass of wine did not give him expectations from me.
I should have, but of course I didn't. As I felt the warmth of his hand through my blouse, I felt a warmth I'd not felt for a long time. It was kind of pathetic that my body was becoming aroused so easily. Some random stranger was nice to me, and I was being silly.
Then slowly his hand moved up towards my armpit. As his fingertips brushed over my side boob, I jumped and squeezed my arm against it to stop it from moving. But in reality, it just pushed his fingers more firmly against my boob.
I should have said or done something, but I didn't want to cause a fuss in the hotel bar. I'd be hugely embarrassed to admit a stranger had grabbed my boob. And I hated that my nipples were hard, and my pussy was getting wet. Releasing his hand, I did nothing more. Didn't move it, glare at him, or chastise him in any way.
Part of me knew I should, if only to stop him pestering other women, but another part of me shocked me by liking it. OK, being groped in a public space was terrifying, but at the same time thrilling. I'd never done anything 'bad' before.
The thought chimed back to my earlier thoughts of needing something to happen in my life. Perhaps it was the thought of Dana having had 'fun' on business trips, knowing I'd never be brave enough to do something like that.
He moved his hand forward to cup the breast more fully, and I tensed, my eyes darting around the room. He must have seen my reaction and dropped his hand back into my lap. Probably worried we'd get caught if he were too blatant. I was torn between relief that he'd stopped and the disappointment that he had.
