This is based on real interactions with real people. I will let the reader decide when it transitions from factual to fantasy. Names have been changed for the obvious reasons. I can't thank Todger65 enough for his editing assistance.
Emerald Eyes
A wild Saturday night at the annual conference
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It is so odd how something, some odd incident, will occur and another odd incident will connect to the first one, and lead to an entirely unpredictable outcome. There is no logical connection between the two until hindsight kicks in long after the fact. It is a false logic. There is no way that the one thing would connect with the other thing, resulting in the outcome that occurred. No one could have predicted it. Who knows what would have happened if they had. Probably nothing would have happened. It was the unpredictability of the thing that made it happen.
Case in point, and the reason I am writing this down, started two years ago. Something happened. In this case I was at the State Convention for a certain not for profit organization. We were installing the new State Commander who happened to be a wonderful and extremely capable woman. She had invited guests to her installation, as was her privilege, and they were a fascinating group of people. I learned this later in the evening as we all shared a plethora of alcoholic beverages.
I walked out onto the rooftop patio area of our hotel to have a smoke. Yes, it's a horrible habit and I really should quit, again, but that has nothing to do with this story. I suppose if I didn't smoke the conversation that came next never would have happened. I did smoke and it did happen.
I had just lit up and was walking by a bench when I noticed the woman sitting on it. She was the female side of a couple that the new commander had invited to the installation and banquet. If I had been sober, I probably would have pretended not to notice her and would have walked on. I would have done that because I would have felt guilty. I would have felt guilty because I'm married, and she was a fucking knockout.
Instead, I turned to her, "Hi. I'm Dave. How are you this evening?"
Within minutes I was sitting next to her on that bench while she told me about her career. I'm not sure how we got to that in our conversation to be honest. I just wanted to listen to her talk, and I wasn't letting segues get in the way of that.
Her name was Barb, I assume short for Barbara, and she had a very successful career. She oversaw the installation of massive material handling systems and had worked with some of the major companies in the United States. You can imagine the pressures on a beautiful woman, leading multi-million-dollar projects, in the construction world. A world dominated by men, some of whom were crude by nature.
Ok you say, I get it, and so what. Lots of women are successful in hostile work environments. If the truth be known, much more successful than most men would be in similar circumstances. I was very impressed with her accomplishments, and I told her so.
There is an odd dynamic between strangers that meet in an environment like that. There is a natural tendency to be at once a bit standoffish, while at the same time wanting to impress, at least a little bit. Add to that environment a virtual cornucopia of alcohol, and you get a bunch of people sharing quite a bit more than they normally would, or probably should. Suddenly, the person they were being standoffish with becomes their newest best friend.
She began to share with me some of the issues she faced. At this point I had a buzz, but I was far from drunk. I was getting a kick out of her getting gradually more graphic about the shit at work that was chapping her ass. I really don't think that she was very drunk. I think that once she got started talking her internal filter that would normally tell her to 'Shut the fuck up' got bypassed. Now that she had gotten started, she couldn't stop. I thought it was probably rather cathartic for her and I was glad to be her sounding board.
I knew from scoping her out as the hottest women in the banquet hall earlier that she was a fine figure of a woman. She was blond haired and wearing a low-cut formal dress that revealed some very nice cleavage. The dress also hugged her nice round butt and her legs looked firm and very attractive. Since I already knew those details, it helped me to focus on her pretty green eyes as I talked to her. I really think the eye contact is what kept her talking. Her significant other was nowhere in sight and I was definitely enjoying the conversation, so I encouraged her as best I could.
Please keep in mind that she showed no outward attraction to me or gave any indication she found me interesting in a romantic way. I suspect if I had made the wrong remark, I would have been shut down immediately. That was fine with me. I am married and really wasn't interested in cheating on my wife. I was just enjoying listening to her. The more graphic she got, the more I was enjoying myself.
She told me about how hard it is to maintain the respect of hard-core construction guys. It was made even harder when a corporate executive secretary was assigned to her for field work. Barb looked at me as serious as a heart attack, "She was putting their thingies in her mouth! All the time! I caught her one day getting ready to do that right in front of the mobile office in the parking lot!"
First of all, I couldn't believe she shared that with me. Second of all, I got the biggest kick out of her description of a blow job. She wasn't done. She looked at me in all seriousness and I believed her every word, "I stormed out of my office and separated them. Then I sent her back to corporate on the next plane. The construction supervisor that she had been getting ready to blow had the audacity to ask me if I was taking her place!"
"Can you imagine? He wanted me to give him a blow job!"
'Whoa' I thought. She just went from 'mouth on thingy' to 'blow job' in moments. This was getting really interesting, and quite a bit of fun. Come to find out, said secretary had been having ongoing affairs with the executives and one of the married ones needed to get her out of town for a while. That's why they had sent her to Barb. They wouldn't let Barb fire her for what appeared to me to be obvious reasons. I wondered if that secretary knew how much power she wielded.
Needless to say, after she started saying 'blow job' I began to fantasize just a bit. She didn't realize that she was rubbing my arm through my suit jacket while she talked to me. I swear that she didn't mean anything by it, but it sure made me have thoughts. Those big green eyes looking into mine so sincerely while she recited her woes and rubbed my arm felt rather forbidden. I knew nothing was happening, but it made me feel attractive in that moment and stroked my ego something fierce.
We talked for the better part of an hour. She leveled up her graphic descriptions to include more 'blow jobs' and 'fucking' until she reached a nice level as she continued telling tales about the sexually rampant secretary. A level I thought of as just the right mix of dirty with innocent. It was very erotic to me and yet, still pretty funny. The secretary ended up recruiting a couple of other women working at the job site and it was all Barb could do to keep them from having an outright orgy.
In a fit of my own oversharing I told her that I wrote erotic stories and what she was telling me would make a good one. At that point she stopped talking about herself and wanted to know all about my writing.
Considering how close she was to me, and that she was rubbing my arm, her significant other took it pretty well when he showed up. I immediately included him in the conversation and found out his name was Scott. Scott was a super nice guy and an accomplished musician. I could see that she saw much more in him than just his tall, good looks.
The three of us talked about more mundane stuff for a while. Then, she mentioned to Scott that I wrote erotic stories. He seemed fascinated rather than offended much to my relief. Eventually I looked at my watch and saw that it was nearing 1:00 am. I started to say my goodnights. They ended up walking with me to the elevators and we said our goodbyes as they stepped off onto their floor. I assumed that I would probably never see either of them again. I chalked the whole thing up as a pleasant and fun experience and went on with my life.
One year later and I'm the one being installed as commander. This time my wife Jill is with me. There is a ceremony for the outgoing commander, and she had invited the same guests again. During the dinner following my installation I found myself and my wife sitting with Barb and Scott at a round table. An unaccompanied young handsome guy named John sat on the other side of my wife. Between him and Barb sat a quiet couple. The quiet coupled didn't have much to say and they left as soon as they finished eating. No big deal, it happens at these things.
I leaned over and whispered to my wife that Barb and Scott were the couple I had told her about when I came home from the last convention. That got her interested in a hurry. The five of us scooted our chairs closer together and began having a good time. It only got better as our alcohol intake increased, interrupted occasionally by a congratulatory word as people left. Eventually the hotel staff had to run us out of the banquet room. Everyone else had already left.
We made our way to the hospitality room, but it was packed with people. As the incoming commander I rated a lavish suite in the hotel and I had this bright idea, "Hey, we're all having fun. Why don't we grab a bottle or two and go to our suite? It will be way more comfortable than this."
Everyone thought that was a wonderful idea. Scott ran interference for me while I grabbed a half gallon of high-end vodka. He in turn grabbed some mixers. Meanwhile, Jill and Barb snuck out some cups and snacks. We were very proud of our little caper. We took the elevator to our floor and entered our suite. First order of business was to fill up our ice buckets (we had two) and mix some drinks.
There are some important things to know about us at this point. We were all pretty buzzed and the language filters were turned off on all of us. I think by that point the filters had been ripped out and tossed off the roof. What constitutes a good idea, and a bad idea, can get somewhat smudged when in that state.
