Alone at a Conference

Again, standing in my hotel room, I had an old problem: What should I wear...? This time, however, not in front of my well filled wardrobe, but in front of my anything but well filled suitcase.

Once again, I was travelling for work. As an academic, you must attend training courses from time to time. A very exciting topic - 'The amendment to insolvency law - consequences for business processes' - a topic could hardly be drier and duller. At least the hotel where the conference was held was first class. My room was a fairly large suite and there was an excellent wellness area.

Fortunately, I had already completed the first two days. Surrounded by grey lawyers in grey suits who populated the entire hotel and with whom you could only talk about insolvency law. To my horror, I was the only woman this time, which earned me the dubious honour of having the undivided attention, in a certain respect, of all the men present. I was complimented, you, here, as the only woman in the select circle of insolvency administrators.... And they all told me how great they were and some of them were pretty quick to make clear offers in my direktion. After all, I'm an attractive lady in my prime, but I just feel disgusted by crude chat-up lines.

The peak was reached yesterday at the evening buffet, the evening gluttony after the lectures. After the person opposite me had shovelled his third plate full of all sorts of fatty stuff into himself, he was so distracted by my breasts that he held the plate at an angle and a huge spill of some kind of sauce landed on my trouser suit. Everyone was suddenly worried about me, but I'd had enough. After a very obliging waitress had mopped up the mess, I simply left in a huff and walked through the reception area towards the lifts.

Thank goodness there were other parties staying at the conference hotel. A third division basketball team from a nearby town was here for a tournament. At the end of the games, which were taking place in a sports centre not far away, the athletes crowded the hotel lobby. This brought some colour to the otherwise grey surroundings. Some sat in the armchairs and their puzzled looks followed the somewhat upset woman who disappeared into the lift with gravy on her trouser suit.

Fed up with all my colleagues, I went straight to my hotel room to spend the rest of the evening alone. As I was also a bit tired and so I fell asleep early. This meant I could get up earlier today and do something for my well-being in the fitness area before the presentations started. I hoped to have some peace and quiet there to do a light workout on my own. But I wasn't alone this morning.

That was also the reason for my clothing problem...

My thoughts started to wander, and I had to refocus on my main problem as time was running out. What do you wear when you want to go out casually in the evening? Something stuffy like at work? It was clearly too late to go shopping in the nearby pedestrian zone. Especially as I had jumped in the shower again. I walked slowly from the bathroom into the large room and stood next to the bed in front of the large mirror. Lost in thought, I untied the knot of the towel I had wrapped around my upper body and let it fall to the floor.

Now I was standing almost naked in front of the polished mirror, with just a towel wrapped around my head, looking at myself. Despite my 43 years, I'm still in pretty good shape, 5 ft 8 tall, my weighs is not quite 130 lbs. And I think that I can still pass as a slim lady, with some charming curves. That means, that I have a few extra pounds in various problem areas - on my stomach and especially on my upper thighs, for example - but it's within limits. My bum, on the other hand, is impressive for its age. It's still quite firm, round and not too big. And my face looks good even without make-up.

While I was looking at myself, I realised that it was getting later and later, and I turned my attention back to my actual problem. The elegant trouser suit that had been part of the buffet yesterday was still at the dry cleaners. Today was also the last day and I only had a few fresh clothes left in my suitcase, I realised. So, I would have to go back to a skirt and blazer. But first some underwear. A pair of black briefs with lots of gold and silver trim turned up when I looked through them. And with lace. Nobody can see them anyway, especially as they're not a thong. On the contrary, with its thin fabric, it concealed a good part of the skin and made the bum look slimmer.

I slowly slipped them on and found that they were comfortable to wear. I looked for a panty hose but only found hold-up stockings. In black, also with lace. 'With my upper thighs, they won't be able to slip anyway. 'I thought to myself. I sat down on the bed and put them on. I smoothed out the thin fabric with my hands and found that it felt extremely comfortable. The stockings left more than a hand's breadth of skin exposed on my thighs above the lace edging. Together with the lace briefs, this looked a little frivolous. Actually, maybe a little bit too frivolous for a decent girl.

I only had one unworn bra left. A sinfully expensive push-up that I had once bought when I was on holiday in Italy. Also, in black and with lace. It actually goes well with the briefs. My bust size has changed significantly over the years. As a young girl I started out with a B-Cup, I was slim and had an athletic shape. Now I need DD with a clear tendency towards E. But I try to support the weight from gravity with various lace underwear, mainly in black. The men seem to like it...! Their looks are clear, and it's obvious what they're thinking.

But sometimes my two breasts are a burden. Jogging, against the pounds, was almost an impossibility. This morning in the fitness centre, I tried one of the treadmills again. Apart from me, there were only three of the basketball players, as it turned out later, there to warm up. Three attractive, tall and well-trained guys. While I was running on the treadmill in my tight outfit and my huge breasts were bouncing uncomfortably back and forth despite the sports bra, I noticed that the three of them kept looking at me. And apparently, they were also talking about me. Shortly afterwards, one of the three came over to me with a provocative grin. 'Now I'm already being picked on by toddlers here!' I thought to myself secretly and was already annoyed before he reached me. I was already thinking hard about how I could rebuff him as quickly as possible. Inwardly, I was already building up the wall of defence that I always needed when the cheeky, typically pushy guys got too close to me. But as he came closer, I realised that his grin looked more like a smile.

'Excuse me, I really don't want to be intrusive, but I would like to say something about your running style...!?' I later learnt that he was the eldest of the three and co-coach of the basketball team that was taking part in the tournament here in the city.

Now I was surprised! Usually I get to hear 'Well, baby, all alone here...? Shall we go for a drink...? Will you come to my room...? Are you fancy being picked up by a real man...?' I'm used to hear blokes say things like that all the time! And they were always staring to my big breasts. Because of these experiences, I usually didn't feel like letting anyone get close to me.

Still surprised, I stopped the treadmill, came to a halt and puffed a little from the slight exertion. No, he looked me in the face, smiled and continued, 'Your movements are not fluid enough and this is clearly due to the rolling of the foot... And, without wishing to offend you, for women with a slightly larger bust, even sports bras quickly reach their limits...! I was completely flabbergasted by the emphasised objectivity. For years, no man had managed to talk to me about my protruding breasts without coming across as clumsy and cheap. 'If you don't mind, I can show you a few exercises to prevent your upper body from rising and falling...?!'As I listened to him, I cautiously looked past him to see what the other two were doing. But they were busy warming up in the background, talking to each other in a relaxed manner and not paying any attention to us.

'Oh, thank you very much...!?'Now I, who was usually quick-witted, felt a little embarrassed. 'Yes, with pleasure...! If it doesn't require any effort....?' I said, realising that my voice sounded a little unsure. Uncertain because I wasn't prepared for it and didn't know what was going to happen. But what followed was a matter-of-fact description of how I should hold my body differently, align the centre of gravity of my pelvis differently and how I should step differently with the weight-bearing foot.

Elijah, as I later learnt, was the co-trainer and set the treadmill to the slowest setting. I followed his instructions docilely and after a few steps my breasts actually stopped swinging. He kept reminding me to only step with my front foot or gave me other instructions when I threatened to lose concentration.

'O.K.' said Elijah, 'Now tilt your pelvis forwards a little!' He gently placed one hand on my stomach and the other on my back. He carefully corrected the position of my hips with the light but firm pressure of his strong hands. The touch felt good and wasn't at all uncomfortable. It wasn't the kind of grabbing I felt too often. And a thought briefly popped into my head, wondering if he could use the hand that was on my stomach to go a little deeper...? But I quickly dismissed the thought.

Elijah knew his trade, as I could see. He did his job in a detached and objective manner. After half an hour, he was able to set the treadmill to a higher level and I ran slowly, but without my breasts swinging, Elijah's eyes focussed on my pelvis and the correct rolling of my feet. Smiling, I looked up at him and something inside me compelled me to seek his gaze, to draw his attention to me even more. But he was too focussed to notice and continued training undeterred. 'Please step more with your front foot...! Yes, just like that...!' I heard him say`, 'And now, please roll a little more with your foot!' And he wasn't staring at my two big, round balls.

He really just wanted to improve my running style.

Nothing else.

As I was too focused on what I was doing, I hadn't realised that the other two had joined us. When someone said, 'Excuse me, but we have to go slowly or we'll miss the bus...!', I looked at the young men standing next to me in amazement. I stopped the treadmill again. Elijah replied to the other two. 'Relax, we still have at least half an hour...' One of the other two shook his head demonstratively. 'But, as you may remember, our coach, that's your father, quickly becomes droll. After all, we're in the final and, in his opinion, nothing can go wrong!' continued the dark-haired man called Noah.

'And I have to eat something too...!' said Benjamin, the youngest of the three. 'Tell me, are you always hungry?' I heard Elijah say. 'He's still growing...!' joked Noah, pointing his thumb in his direction.

The three of them were so light-hearted that I had to laugh a little. 'Thank you for the tips!' I said, somewhat embarrassed, turning to Elijah. 'Can I perhaps,... perhaps somehow repay you and your friends for the training session?' I asked the three of them. Since I was standing on a fairly high treadmill, I was almost at eye level with the three of them.

Noah gestured towards Benjamin and said flippantly: 'You'd better get the always hungry toddler here something to eat...!'

'Good, then can I invite you round for dinner tonight?' I asked the three of them, who looked at each other in surprise. Surprised at my courage, I looked round at the three of them. I didn't actually know the three of them.

'Gladly...!' Noah was the first to reply, also somewhat surprised. 'Is there anything around here that's worth going to?' I asked and added an explanatory one. '...you know, I'm not from this city here...!' I added.

'Uh, there's a legendary Mexican Restaurant in the city centre...!' came a spontaneous response from Noah, clearly emphasising the 'legendary'. 'Great, the gentleman knows his way around here because he studies here...!' Benjamin literally burst out in an almost offended tone.

I looked at the three of them questioningly, 'A Mexican Restaurant...? Am I not too old for that?' All three looked at each other questioningly and then shook their heads almost simultaneously. Elijah was the first to look over at me and, smiling, he said: 'With a beautiful woman like you, you can be seen anywhere, Miss, Mrs....?!?' He looked me straight in the eye with a smile. A somewhat embarrassed silence set in. I wasn't sure whether I should feel turned on or not. However, the smile he gave me quickly dispelled my thoughts. But I was a little startled to realise that I was blushing with embarrassment.

The moment of silence lasted a little longer and for a short time, only the calm breathing of the three of them could be heard. At the same time, I felt their eyes resting on me. But they weren't unpleasant looks and unconsciously I wanted to step closer to them, but the handle of the treadmill stood in the way. 'Oh, calling me ' Mrs.' is so formal...! You,... you can just call me Charlotte!' I said a little uncertainly into the silence, not knowing whether this would go down so well with the young people. But it went down well, smiling, the three of them shook my hand in turn and introduced themselves again: 'Noah!' 'Benjamin!' 'Elijah!' I could look into each of their friendly faces. 'And they're well behaved too!' I thought to myself.

Then Noah urged us to leave. 'Come on!' he said to the other two and I could feel something like tension now, at least in him. And to me, 'Let's meet in the hotel lobby around eight?' I only had time for a brief nod, then the three of them quickly packed their things and left the fitness centre under my watchful gaze.

I dried the sweat on my skin with my towel and was surprised at my spontaneity. So now I had a date with three young basketball players. Is that already a date?

In retrospect, I would prefer to forget the rest of the day. Boring lectures on legal quibbles about inhuman ways to squeeze as much money as possible out of companies that are on the brink of collapse.

I could clearly see my indecision in the mirror of my hotel room. 'You have to concentrate, Charlotte...!' I said to myself and got dressed.

To finally get ahead, I picked up the Italian push-up and held it in front of me. Due to my age, my breasts no longer have the shape they used to, but there was really no question of them sagging. That's why I didn't really need push-ups. Normal bras do just as well. But I liked this one. It was always in my suitcase, but I had never worn it. Maybe there will be a special occasion one day, I always thought. Before I put the bra on for good, I put it back in the suitcase for a moment, reached up with my hands and untied the towel I was still wearing around my head. This pulled my breasts upwards, making their shape look youthfully firm again despite their size. With a little twist, I looked at myself and was happy with myself, except for my small problem areas.

When I put on the push-up and got my breasts into the right position, I realised why I had never worn it before. When I bent over a little to get something else out of my suitcase, I saw my ample cleavage. Both my breasts were really sticking out through the foam insert, quite big and quite round. Actually, too big and too round for the rest of my body. I would have been sure to attract even more attention from my grey, legal colleagues. I looked at myself critically through the mirror and turned slightly. Now I could see more clearly that my bust was far too big for the rest of my figure, and I had an inkling of where the men would be looking tonight. I gripped my breasts with my hands, lifted them a little higher, squeezed them further and looked at myself in the mirror. I watched as the gap between my breasts became a gorge. I lightly kneaded my two big balls in front of the mirror and looked at myself. There was a slight tug in my crotch. 'Why do I have to think about sex right now...?' it flashed through my mind, and I involuntarily squeezed them a little harder.

Sexually, I'm actually rather frugal. Maybe because I come from a good family, father a judge, mother a housewife. Like my father, I also studied law, just like my two older brothers. A family of lawyers. After graduating, career, career, career, finally joined my father's law firm... Occasionally a boyfriend, or life partner, as they say today.

Stockings, briefs and bra went well together and concealed the odd problem area. My still long dark hair was quickly pinned up and I let a few strands hang out at the side. I put on make-up and blusher to emphasise my big eyes. And red lipstick.

Now I actually felt quite attractive, even though I'm not one of those women who have those endlessly long legs. I looked at myself critically in the mirror. Had I emphasised my eyes too much? Was the lipstick perhaps too red after all?

A little unsettled by these questions, I looked through my suitcase again and found another skirt that I hadn't worn for a while. And at the bottom I found a blouse after all. I picked it up with a critical eye, held it in front of my chest, found it to be a good fit and then put it on. It was an innocent white colour, the material, a silk blend, looked very high quality and the cut was very figure-hugging. A nice contrast to the somewhat frivolous black lace underneath. While I looked at myself in the mirror, I buttoned up the blouse. The push-up increased my bust size so much that the blouse stretched a little at chest height when I breathed in. So, I need to breathe less today, I thought to myself. Then the skirt. It was quite tight but went well over my hips and was rather shorter than the others I usually wore. But at least it stopped just a hand's breadth above the knee. That was acceptable. 'Decent girl! ' I thought to myself. Now the question of shoes. Unfortunately, there are only two pairs here. One pair with no heels at all, one pair with medium heels. While I looked at the shoes, I placed them on the floor in front of me and stepped into each pair briefly. I looked at myself critically in the mirror and turned round and round.

The question was quickly answered! I could be seen in the pair off medium-high shoes. Now my legs, even though the dark stockings, looked a little as if they were long. I slowly turned around in front of the mirror and looked at my silhouette with satisfaction. The different position with the heels made my bottom look a little rounder and it seemed as if it stuck out a little further. The tight blouse emphasized my slim but very feminine stature. And it didn't look as if I needed silicone. Lastly, it was the blazer's turn. 'With a beautiful woman, you can be seen anywhere...!' Elijah's words went through my head again. I hope I don' disappoint the three of them. 'Perhaps the eyes a little bit more...?' I thought to myself and reached for the mascara stick again. One last look in the mirror and I grabbed my coat, scurried across the hall to the elevators, pressed the button and stood somewhat impatiently in front of the elevator door. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened and three of my colleagues from last night were in there. I hesitated for a moment, but then went in, a little annoyed. The three men's eyes clearly ran over my breasts, my bottom and my legs. Immediately, an alcoholic smell hit my nose. It was probably the breath of the three men that I couldn't avoid in the elevator. 'Hello, my dear Charlotte, would you like to...?' I heard one of the overweight men in the gray suit say. I spontaneously broke it by simply saying loudly and annoyed: 'NO!'