An Evening in Sydney

I think it will be best if I start by telling you about myself - of course noting to give away my identity but enough to give you the background. As a married, professional woman from a North African country, giving away my identity may mean the end of my marriage, career, and repute, in short, my life. But giving the background will help you follow the story and, perhaps, enjoy it more.

I am in my mid-40s, have been happily married for 20 or so years, have two teenage children who are the centre of my life, am highly educated, and work for a big company in my home country. I know that I am attractive. My best features are probably my big, black eyes, wheatish complexion, and a nice, full figure. I have been told, including by my husband, that my face still retains its youthful innocence and my voice, its mesmerising effect.

I am an independent woman and yet conservative. That is both due to the norms of my society as well as my own choice. Even as a young, unmarried woman, I did not try to "enjoy" life as much as some of my friends did. This despite having strong sexual drive and desires. I tried to satisfy those through my fantasies which have always remained a part of me. I did have a couple of boy friends before meeting my husband and did go all the way with each of them. I have kept the fond memories of those encounters but have been faithful to my husband since our marriage. I mean I have not had any physical relationship with any other man. Having many male friends through work, enjoying their company, being admired and getting compliments, and flirting a little, particularly when travelling alone, should not count as infidelity, right?

My conservative side decisively became stronger as I grew older. I am proud of my figure - nice, full breasts, round shapely back, narrow waist with long legs. Quite proportionate curves, neither too big, nor too small which go very well with my height (160 cm without heels, and from 165 to 170 cm with heels which I like to wear only occasionally). I used to wear tight clothes that emphasised my attractive figure. Not anymore. About 10 years ago, I decided to dress only modestly outside my home and family. Now when I go out, my hair are completely covered with a scarf, my shirts are full with long sleeves, and the skirts and pants are full-length till my ankles. I also wear a long jacket over my pants, not wanting to show my attractive back in fitting pants. But, don't get the wrong impression. I do not come out as a drab, shabbily dressed person. Quite the contrary. I have a sense of style: my head scarfs are silky and in many colours and patterns, my shirts and pants are top brands, and my long skirts are fitting.

I think this should be enough for now and I should move on to the story. If I have forgotten anything important about myself and the background, I can mention that while telling the story - I am sure that you won't mind.

I love my job and I love the fact that it allows me to travel occasionally. Travels make me feel alive. I love to know about the places and people that I visit and meet with. I know that deep inside me is an adventurer and she gets the chance to express herself more when I am travelling. Travelling had also meant more opportunities to be admired by men, making friends and flirting. But never anything more than that till last year. And this is the story of that fateful (and wonderful if I be honest) travel.

My company sent me to a conference in Sydney last year. I was so excited, having never been to Australia before. And it turned out to be a great experience. The country beautiful, people nice, colleagues great, and conference productive. I know that I had impressed all the participants. Probably, they had not expected a conservatively dressed woman to be so smart, competent, articulate and confident. And I enjoyed their admiration - both through words and in their eyes.

As is often the case in such conferences, a lot of flirtations were going around. I was also being wooed, but much more subtly given my conservative appearance. I neither discouraged nor openly responded. Among my few wooers was a colleague from our office in the USA. We had never met before. He was tall, well-built, quite handsome, and in his 30s. Hence, it was initially quite a surprise to feel his attention on me. It was a pleasant surprise though and I was quite pleased actually. I mean, would not you be, if you happen to a woman in 40s and get the admiring attention of someone really handsome, gentlemanly and at least 10 years younger than you?

What was even more interesting was the interest of another younger colleague from New Zealand in the American colleague. She indeed was sort of a sex bomb - tall, blonde, long legs, young in mid-20s, and always dressed to kill. She did not seem to care whether anyone is noticing her open interest in the American colleague. He, too, did not seem to mind though I could see that his attention was more on me than on her. Let us call him A and her, N.

It was the last day of the conference. I knew from my experience that many participants like to go out on the last evening to enjoy and also that some flirtations reach a certain conclusion in the last night (if that has not happened before). My own practice is to go to out mostly on my own, walk around the place, enjoy the beauty and feel of the place and come back to my room not too late, and in time to make my daily call to my husband and children.

As the conference ended late in the afternoon, we started saying byes to each other. My return flight was on the next day (so was A's as he had told me earlier). I saw him standing with N and went up to them to say my farewells. As had often happened during the conference, his face lit up on seeing me and N became sort of a distant object. And as I had felt on each such occasion before, a current of happiness went through me. Here I was, beating a young sex bomb without even trying.

Before I could say the few words of farewell, A excitedly told me that he and N were planning to go dancing later in the evening and they would love if I could join too. This certainly did not please N who remarked sarcastically that I was welcome even though I wouldn't know how to dance. (In fact, I love dancing and know so many - even though I had almost given up going to dancing places since many years.). I am pretty sure that this sarcasm was the undoing of N, and prompted my actions that night. Had she not been so bitchy, I would have politely thanked them and excused myself. But I could not let her get away with such rudeness. So, with a very "sweet" smile on my face, I told them that I prefer Latin dances and would be happy to join them if they plan to go to a place with Latin music. N's jaw dropped (I wanted it to) and A could not hide his immense pleasure.

We decided to meet in the hotel lobby later in the evening and I went back to my room, initially pleased with my performance. Once in the room, misgivings started. I asked myself whether I should really do it? Would it be appropriate? How would it go and end? Etc. etc. I almost decided to back out, thinking that I could leave a message at the hotel reception for A and N that I was not feeling well and hence would not be able to join.

But another part of me - the adventurous side - kept arguing. It was true that I was feeling happy and excited. It was true that the thought of dancing with the handsome A in a country far away from my home was exhilarating. I could feel the current coursing through my body. So I decided that I would not back out. I told myself that it was nothing extraordinary. That colleagues and friends do it all the time. That I deserve this enjoyment. That it was not anything wrong. That I will make up to my husband by "doing things" that he loves but that I don't do often (don't ask me yet about those "things").

While getting ready, I paid a lot of attention to my clothing. I chose my favourite maroon jeans, full length but tight-fitting, silky blue shirt that I tucked inside the jeans, and a silky red scarf for my head. A little make-up on my face and high heel sandals completed the ensemble. I looked into the mirror and quite liked myself. This dress was still conservative and yet showing my curves so nicely. The blue shirt was thin and gave the hint of my bra and fair skin under it. Normally, I would wear a slip under it. But I told myself that the slip was not needed as I would be wearing a long jacket over it - a jacket that would cover my jeans-clad back as well as the front if I button it.

I put on the long jacket before leaving the room. But, somehow could not bring myself to button it in the front. I think I so wanted to impress A, and so wanted to show N what I was capable of. Whatever, I came down to the hotel lobby a few minutes later than the agreed time, dressed like I had not been in public for a long time. Feeling excited, happy, self-conscious, and a little guilty - all at the same time.

Needless to say that seeing me like this had the expected effect - N's jaw dropped even further while A complimented gentlemanly with a grin on his face. We left for the Latin dancing place - N clearly unhappy, A trying to balance his attention to the two of us while it was obvious that he would rather be with me than N, and I happy and excited as I have not been in a very long time.