Ruth

I know that things happen at conferences that you wouldn't want your spouse to know about, but I've never been in a situation where some extra-marital fun would be an option, or thought that I would be that kind of person. Well, that changed recently, and I remember the occasion with affection.

I enjoy conferences for the professional development and the chance to visit new places and stay in nice hotels. Even being somewhat introverted, I enjoy meeting people and making professional connections.

At the farewell meal on the last event I attended, I sat next to Ruth, someone I had got to know over the previous couple of days. I had enjoyed her company; she was softly spoken, thoughtful and reserved - so we had those things in common, at least. The meal was good, and I regularly had to lean in to hear her speak over the noise of the other people in the room. As the meal ended, there was a move to go to a bar for some drinks. Even though I wanted more of Ruth's company, I was more interested in some quiet time and an early night. I said so to Ruth, and she said that she was also planning to head back to the hotel.

So far, so normal. Well, having said that, I was aware that although we both wore wedding rings, we hadn't spoken about our families, as if doing so would spoil something. I was aware that our arms and hands had brushed together several times during the evening, and we both seemed very comfortable about it. Ruth told me she enjoyed my accent (British) and I enjoyed way she would look at me shyly.

"Thank you for your company this evening, Ruth," I said as we approached the hotel. "I've really enjoyed getting to know you."

"Thank you" she said. She held my gaze and smiled. "You've been a real gentleman."

We walked into the lift and pressed the button for the 7th floor (Ruth's) and the 9th (mine). I turned to her and she continued to look at me shyly. Perhaps we were both aware that this is where it would end, and both be sorry about it.

Without planning to, I reached out and took her hand in mine. She let me hold it. She had called me a gentleman and was I about to spoil that? Should I let go? Step away? Ruth seemed to be as conflicted as I was, unable to hold my gaze for more than a fraction of a second before looking down.

The doors opened for the 7th floor. I held her hand and she looked at me. The doors closed.

We got out on the 9th floor. We stepped out and walked towards my room.

"I'm not sure," she said.

"Nor am I," I replied, but I put an arm round her shoulder, maybe trying to reassure both of us.

We stood for a few moments in my room. I could feel the thumping of my heart but I put a hand on each of Ruth's shoulders and pulled her to me, without any resistance. I could feel the warmth and softness of her against my frame. She put her head on my chest (she is, after all, a head shorter than me) and I inhaled her scent.

I would be wrong to say that Ruth looked great and had a model's body. She was a very ordinary middle-aged woman, probably the mother of a couple of children, but she had trusted me enough to come into my room and let me put my arms around her. Beauty is about much more than a faultless skin and an hour-glass figure. Beauty is about finding connection and sharing, giving and receiving, trusting.

I leant down and kissed her. The first touch of our lips made me groan involuntarily. Oh my God! I haven't kissed anyone other than my wife for as long as I can remember, and the newness of the sensations, of her tongue and mine joined in exploration, made me tremble.

"OK?" I asked. She nodded and we moved to lay down on the bed.

"It's been a long time," Ruth whispered. "Let's take it slowly. I'm not young any more, and I've put on weight."

"Ruth, you look lovely," I said, "and I want to undress you, but please say if you want to stop."

She gave a nod, I brushed the hair from her face, and leant down to kiss her again.

My fingers found the buttons on her blouse and started to undo them. Her breathing quickened as we kissed and as I undid the last button and slipped her blouse off her shoulders. Her bra was white, not fancy, and I assume hadn't put on this morning with the expectation that someone else would take it off. I undid the clasp and slipped the strap off one shoulder and then the next. Her breasts were exposed in the dim light of the room. I looked at them, feeling blessed that this wonderful woman had allowed me to see them. Ordinary, soft breasts but beautiful nonetheless.

I took a nipple in my mouth. The warmth, the softness, the scent -- and I was in heaven. Ruth's nipple hardened, she put her hands in my hair and pulled me to her.

I don't remember removing her skirt or taking my clothes off. I remember her panties -- again, white, not particularly fancy. As I slipped my hand between her legs, she slowly relaxed and parted them, and leaving her nipples behind, I kissed down her stomach, down, down until my nose was against the material of her panties. I slipped my finger underneath, moved the material to one side, took a deep breath in to savour her scent, and found her moistness with my tongue.

Is there anything more intimate than licking a woman and listening to her ragged breath as the intensity of her feelings builds? This is a gift for any man, a gift to be celebrated and treasured. My hands were on the inside of her thighs, caressing the flesh as she writhed on the bed, calling my name over and over until she moaned, jerked and subsided, breathing deeply.

She pulled me up the bed and I lay next to her. "That was wonderful," she said as she cradled my head against her shoulder. She closed her eyes, I let my hand drift over her body, exploring new bits at leisure.

"Thank you," she said, rolling me onto my back and pulling herself on top of me. "I want you inside me."