The Tryst 13

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Catering Girl

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I drove up to the valet station in front of the hotel. The door to my Mercedes was opened by the attendant, who politely offered his hand as I stepped out. After popping the trunk, I handed him my key fob.

"How many nights will you be staying with us, ma'am?"

"Just two," I replied.

"Are you here for the conference?"

"Yes."

He scribbled a couple of notes on the claim ticket, tore off the stub, and handed it to me. "Welcome to the Soundview, enjoy your stay."

A bell hop had already pulled my bags out of the trunk and was waiting for me. I tipped the valet, then smiled and nodded to the bellhop.

"Do you need to check in at the front desk?" the fresh-faced teen girl asked. Her bright smile lit up her face.

"No, thank you. I checked in via the phone app and have the digital key. We can head straight to my room."

"Excellent. If you'll follow me to the elevators, then. Do you know your room number by any chance?" There was a pleasant enthusiasm in her voice. Eager to serve, but not in an overbearing or smothering way.

We passed a sitting area, with a large waterfall as its central feature. I smiled as we walked past. It always reminded me of a waterfall my wife and I found years ago, while hiking on our honeymoon. It wasn't as big of course, just from the ceiling to the floor of the lobby, but it still evoked the memory of that day. She'd sat leaning back in my arms during a rest and, like the honeymooners we were, we — well I'd better save that story for some other time.

I snapped out of my daydream and looked back at the bellhop.

"Do you know your room number?" she asked again politely, holding the door of the elevator open for me.

"801, top floor please."

I saw her eyes widen a fraction as she figured out we were going to one of the two penthouse suites of the hotel. Juggling my suitcase and garment bag, she pressed the top right button and turned to face me.

"Is this your first time at our hotel?"

"No, I've been here many, many times. But I've not seen you before. Are you new?"

"Yes, I started last week. I enjoy working here. Everyone is very nice to work with."

"Well, congratulations on the new job. I know the manager here, he does a great job running the place. You'll enjoy working for him." I gave her a knowing look and made a mental note to remember to comment to him about how nice his new bellhop is.

"Yes, Mr. Dewey is a pleasure to work for. I also met one of the property owners the other day, and she was very nice as well."

"Oh?" My interest piqued, "Whom did you meet?"

The young lady paused in thought. "Mrs. Mitchell, I think her name was. Yes, that was it. Jennifer Mitchell."

I gave her a knowing smile and chuckled inside. "Yes, I know her. Wonderful woman. She's a good person to work for."

The door slid open and the young lady guided me down the hall. As we approached my room, I had my phone ready and gave it a gentle shake to activate the app. The digital key sprang to life and, with a quick tap, the door unlocked.

She held the door open for me, then followed me in. As usual, the suite had fresh flowers waiting to liven up the room for me. It was well appointed but within the brand guidelines set forth by the national parent company.

"You can set the suitcase in the closet and hang the garment bag, if you don't mind."

I watched her take care of the bags and then turn back to me.

"Is there anything else I can do to assist you, ma'am?"

"No, I think I'm good." I handed her a couple of folded up banknotes. "A little something for you, thank you. I think you're going to do well here in your new job."

"My pleasure ma'am. I'm Melissa, by the way. If there is anything else I can do, or any of the staff here, please call the front desk."

"I sure will. And please, call me Whitney. When you say 'Ma'am' it makes me think of my mother."

Melissa giggled. "Okay, but I'm supposed to call people by their last name, sir, or ma'am."

"Well, I don't want you to get in trouble. I'm Whitney Mitchell."

I watched as Melissa processed the new information and realized who I am. "Are you—"

"Yes, I'm Mrs. Mitchell's wife."

Melissa gulped, then recovered her professionalism."Enjoy your stay Mrs. Mitchell."

As Melissa left the room, I pulled out my phone and texted my wife.

Me:

Just got to my room, missing you already.

Jenn:

Miss you too, my dear. Have fun at the conference. See you soon. Loves

💗.

Me:

Love you too babe

💗.

I set my phone down on the coffee table and unpacked. Once finished, I glanced at my watch. I had a few hours until the opening reception of the conference, so I grabbed my iPad and headed to the ground floor.

I walked past the waterfall and to the bar tucked behind it. The bartender recognized me, as I'm a frequent visitor of the hotel."Mrs. Mitchell! Hello, welcome back. Can I pour you a glass of your usual?"

"Please, Denise. And for the umpteenth time, call me Whitney. Mrs. Mitchell is my mother. The only ones who I want calling me Mrs. Mitchell are my kid's friends. Adults should call me by my first name."

I watched Denise snicker a bit while she grabbed a fresh bottle of Malbec and a glass. As usual, she gave me a very generous pour.

"You don't pour that much for everyone, do you?" The cost accountant in me was cringing. I had done little day-to-day accounting in years, not since Ruben retired and I took over running the full operations of Whitney Enterprises.

"Just for our special visitors. Are you here for the conference?"

"Yep, they wrangled me onto a panel tomorrow. 'Growing International Trade in the Pacific Northwest.' A hot and sexy topic for sure, but a vital one." I rolled my eyes as I said 'hot and sexy.' It wasn't by any stretch of the imagination. But it was a topic that was important to the business, thus important to me.

"Shall I start a tab for you?"

"Sure, I'm going to sit in my favorite chair over there and read my book." I used my iPad to point to a comfy chair by the waterfall.

"Very good Mrs. Mitchell. I'll check on you soon."

"Denise—" I gave her a look I normally reserved for a petulant child.

"I know, it's Whitney. I just don't want to get in trouble with the management here. They prefer we call people by their last names."

"I need to have a talk with your management."

"I'm sure you will." Denise smirked as I walked over to the chair. I had fallen in love with this chair when I first saw it. And since it was right next to the waterfall, it was so relaxing. I made a point of sitting here with a glass of wine every time I came here.

I was well into my glass when I set my iPad in my lap to take another sip. It was then I noticed a very attractive woman cross the lobby, headed to the bar. She was wearing a black cocktail dress with matching black stiletto boots that disappeared under her hemline.

Snap out of it, girl, you're a married woman!

I thought. I shook my head, trying to clear the thoughts from my brain. But as I stopped, my eyes rested back on her. This time she was looking right at me.

For a moment, our eyes locked. A flock of butterflies took flight in my stomach, a feeling I'd not felt in years. I could tell she was tracing my every curve with her eyes.

It took every ounce of my willpower not to stare at her. I picked up my iPad and returned to my book. Attempting to distract myself, my eyes wandered over the small, crooked shapes on the screen, but none of them registered in my brain. I peeked over to the bar out of the corner of my eye and was greeted with the sight of her shapely back as she talked to Denise.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, causing her hips to sway.

That is a really toned ass on that woman, I thought as I pondered

what it might be like to hold those cheeks in my hands.

Realizing my hands were getting sweaty, I wiped them down the sides of my legs. But the physical contact, even through my jeans, just heightened my arousal. I looked down at myself. Not bad for a woman in her mid-forties. Thanks to my continual working out, I could still pull off skinny jeans when most women my age could not. They went well with the plain white canvas sneakers I had on. Jenn would approve. It was one of her favorite things for me to wear. I didn't understand it, but they always got her heart racing. If I remember correctly, I was wearing a pair when we went on the short hike from the resort in Belize when we found the waterfall.

I was staring at the splashing water and heard footsteps.

"Beautiful isn't it."

I looked up and saw the woman in the black dress. The smile she wore lit up her face, as if an angel were looking at me. Or perhaps, judging by the heat coming from my lady parts, she was a succubus; a demon who takes on the form of a beautiful woman in order to seduce her victim.

"The waterfall, it's so beautiful," she said again.

This time I was able to reply, "Y-y-yes it is." I stuttered, as if words were lost to me.

I watched her place a glass of red wine next to my empty glass. Another matching glass was in her hands.

"I noticed you were needing a refill. Hope you don't mind, but I asked the bartender what you were having." My eyes drank her in as she took a sip, impressed that none of her red lipstick remained on the glass. "I'm Renée."

"Whitney. Thank you for the wine." I wanted to say more, but couldn't. Eventually I remembered my manners, "Please, have a seat."

She sat in the matching chair next to mine. Her eyes glanced up and down, obviously soaking in my curves. I was rather embarrassed that I was so casually dressed.

Not sure what to say, I picked up my wine. Swirling it around a bit, the deep notes filled my senses. Taking a sip, the alcohol worked its magic. The glass earlier had been the primer, this one was going to take all my inhibitions and wash them away.

"You have an excellent taste in wine."

"Thanks. Denise knows what I like. I come here often enough that she asks if I want my usual."

"You stay here often?"

"No, but I come here for drinks at least once a week. Date nights mostly."

"Oh, so your husband's around then?"

"No husband. My wife is back home making sure the kids stay out of trouble. Well, at least making sure the twins don't gang up on their older brother."

"Sounds like a handful."

"They are, but we love them bunches. And their oldest sister, but she's off at college now. My wife was going to join me but decided to stay home and let me have a couple nights off."

"Well then, to a night or two, all footloose and fancy free then." She held up her glass in a toast, to which I responded in kind.

As I set my glass down, she set hers down as well, and rather close to my glass. Her pinky reached out and gave my hand a single stroking touch.

My eyes stared at what she was doing and then rose to meet hers. As we gazed into each other's eyes, I was paralyzed with what to do next. I can't remember when I was last hit upon by another woman in a bar.

Next thing I knew, a hand was touching my thigh and sparks were shooting across my body. I could feel my breathing quicken in anticipation. What was she going to do next?

"Renée..." I whispered.

"I want you Whitney," her voice was low and husky.

"I... I... shouldn't."

"But you want to."

"Yes." I hung my head in shame. I loved Jenn, but things in the bedroom hadn't been going well for the last few years. We were just so busy with running the family business and raising four children, that 'us' time hardly happened. And, unfortunately, more than one fight had occurred over the subject in the last few years as well.

I felt a finger lift my chin up so we were looking at each other. Maybe I had an itch that needed to be scratched, or maybe the wine had loosened me up in ways that it normally didn't, but when she leaned in to kiss me, I responded in kind.

"F-u-u-u-c-k." I heard myself murmur as we came up for air. Her lips were soft, and she tasted divine.

"I think we should find somewhere a little more private."

"We can go to my room, I have a suite."

"Lead the way."

I got up and took a few steps when I remembered I needed to settle up my first drink with Denise. I pivoted towards the bar when a hand tugged at me and pulled me towards the elevators.

"I covered your first glass as well. Now up we go."

I followed her across the lobby; I have no clue if anyone was watching us. But I didn't care. I just wanted to touch and be touched by this woman. Desire had fully taken me, and she must now be satisfied.

I had barely pressed the button when her hands pushed me against the wall. They were soon followed by lips. I felt alive. Wanted. Desired. Everything that had been missing for some time in my relationship.

The fabric of her dress was soft as I pulled her body close to mine. We kissed for a moment until the elevator stopped to let us off. I could feel dampness going down my leg, my panties being long ago soaked through. Taking her hand, I led her down the hall to my room. My phone was at the ready, and I used it to unlock my door and let us into the suite.

Renée barely let me set it and my iPad down when she was pulling me to the bed.

"As soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew I wanted you." She deftly spun me onto my back and swung a leg over me. Her blue eyes stared into mine. I saw playfulness and a heavy dose of lust on her face. I'm sure mine showed the same.

"Whitney..." The sound of my name on her lips was magical. I'm telling you, friends, there is a power to hearing your name called out when you're about to make love to someone. Hearing Renée say my name was bliss.

As her fingers traced around my face, I closed my eyes to soak it in. Her scent, the sound of her voice, the softness of her body. It all had me going full tilt.

I had to have her lips on mine again. My hands slithered up her back and pulled this blonde goddess to me. I can't remember the last time I kissed someone with lipstick on. My wife never wore any. The last time she did was on our wedding day. I had forgotten what it was like. But it was mainly the look on the lips. Hers were so full and alluring. And she knew how to find a good type and to put it on properly. Nothing was smearing.

My hands ran up and down her back, feeling the softness of her dress and the softness of the skin underneath. As I explored, I found the zipper and pulled it down. Renée wiggled out of her dress, revealing a simple black bra with a floral lace pattern on it. Classy and sexy as fuck.

At the same time she shed her boots, leaving her in a simple black thong and stockings.

"I think someone needs to catch up," her husky voice said to me.

I sat up and peeled off my purple sweater, jeans, and shoes.

"Mmmm, you look good in a plain white bra and panties."

"Sorry, I normally have something sexier than this. This is just my everyday set."

"Don't be sorry, it just makes you into more of the sexy MILF that you are."

With that, Renée started caressing my belly, fingers tracing out a few of the stretch marks that adorned my body. Soon fingers were running over the fabric of my bra. I could feel my nipples straining to get out.

Gentle fingers found them, slowly pulling on them, rolling them between folds of the lightly padded lyra. I just stared at her, my breathing going ever faster.

"Oooohhhhhh" I moaned when her other hand slipped under my panties.

Her fingers slipped right into me. I was so wet that there was almost no friction, and it was as if she knew the right places to go. Soon, I was writhing as her long fingers teased me just the way I wanted. With her one hand in my pussy and the other now slipped under my bra, waves of pleasure were radiating up and down my body.

"I'm not going to last much longer," I panted.

"Let it wash over you, babe. Enjoy it."

Eyes rolling back, I let go. My moans filled the room as my body shook. I grabbed one of her arms to steady myself as the quakes came in waves. Renée slipped her fingers out of me and watched with delight as I came down.

I pulled her down so she laid on top of me, our breasts pressing into each other. I stroked her hair with one hand, her ass with the other.

"Did you like that, my love?"

"Did I ever. Jennifer Renée Mitchell, you are an amazing woman, and I'm so glad you're my wife."

"Me too Whitney Elise Mitchell. I couldn't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I love you."

We lay in bed for a few minutes while I recovered my strength and stopped shaking. The smell of cucumber from her shampoo filled the air as she rolled from one side to the other and her hair dragged across my face.

I used the opportunity to flip her on her back, fully intending to return the favor when Jenn's phone went off in her clutch. We probably would have let it go, but the sound of the Coast Guard Hymn indicated who it was.

Since I was closer, I grabbed her phone and answered it.

"Hi Madi," I greeted our oldest daughter.

"Oh good Momma, is Mom there as well?"

"Yes, munchkin."

"M-o-o-o-m!"

"You'll always be our munchkin, dear, even though you're a fully grown woman. What's going on?"

"I got it, moms! I got the Olinski!"

"Really?" Jenn and I said in excitement at the same time.

"Yes, the first assignments were handed out today. After graduation, I'll be the first sponsor of a Coast Guard ship ever to be a member of the active crew of that vessel."

"Wow, that's pretty special, sweetie." Jenn said. "Your father would be so proud of you."

"You'll be the newest and the longest serving member of the crew, all at the same time," I said.

"The superintendent pulled me aside after the assignments were handed out and told me he 'suggested' the assignment for me. But he told me not to expect any special favors from the captain or crew because I'm the ship's sponsor and permanent member of the crew. I'll get all the shit jobs like any other Ensign."

"As it should be, dear," I said.

"Are Dallas and the twins around?"

"They're at home with Nana and Papa."

"Wait, are you two at work?"

"Not exactly."

"Um, did I interrupt something?"

"Yes," I said at the same time Jenn said, "Sorta."

"Um, sorry I guess. You didn't have to answer the phone. I could've left a voicemail."

"We were, um, taking a nap," mumbled Jenn.

"La la la, not listening, mom. I know your code for old folks having sex."

I could just imagine how red her face was at the moment. Like most young people, she always got embarrassed by the thought of her moms getting it on.

"I'm NOT OLD!" Jenn said with the emphathisis of a forty-year-old not coming to grips with the passage of time. Having heard this many times over the last few months I just rolled my eyes. Which earned me a playful slap on the thigh.

Knowing it was time to save my daughter and myself, I changed the subject. "You should have seen your mom a little while ago, dear. Get this, she was wearing a dress."

"

What?!

"

"And makeup," chimed in Jenn.

"It was perfect, so cute," I cooed.

"Who are you and what have you done with my mother?" squealed Madison.