Houston
The three-hour drive to Houston was unfortunately uneventful. I was hoping that maybe I could slip a finger or two into her delicious snatch while we were driving or get her to stroke me a little, but Monica prefers not to play around in traffic. Not a big deal to me since the weekend was just starting.
We left before our hometown rush-hour traffic started and arrived in Houston after 7:00, so the driving was smooth and easy. We got to the hotel just in time: there were only two parking spaces remaining in their parking garage that's free to guests. She smiled and winked at me and said, "Good job," after the garage attendant informed us of our good fortune.
The lobby was packed. There was some type of conference starting the next day at the hotel, so there were dozens of people all checking in at the same time. It was obvious this was going to take a while, so I asked Monica, "Sweetheart, you wanna go wait somewhere for me, let me check in, then come and get you after I get the key?"
She scanned the packed lobby, probably looking for a quiet corner to sit and wait. Monica hates crowds so I knew she would not want to stand around in this parade of mostly nerdy-looking 30-to-50-year-old men. "There's a bunch of sofas over there in the corner behind the bar. Doesn't look too crowded over there," she concluded.
"Yea, that's a great spot," I said. "Looks like it's a free Wi-Fi lounge." Why don't you take your laptop with you and order a drink if you want? She gave a nod, and I was relieved to get rid of one of the six bags I was lugging in that long line. I gave her a couple of $20 bills, kissed her on the cheek, and warned her about connecting to any router other than the hotel's. For the first time since we arrived in the big city, we were about to be apart in a room full of men, so an immediate feeling of panic and jealousy came over me. She had only gotten a few steps away, so I inspected her hand to see if she had on her wedding ring. Nope. Then I remembered while traveling, she always kept her jewelry in her change purse in the bag she had hung over my shoulder as we got out of the car. She always said that wearing jewelry in the city catches the eyes of all the muggers. I've been married too long to know better than to argue over something so trivial.
So I watched my own wife's shapely ass in her favorite beige jeans as she strolled across the crowded hotel. It was probably only 30 seconds, but so many men stopped whatever they were doing—walking, talking, texting—to watch my wife, I kept repeating under my breath, "Ok. Any day now. Hurry up. They're looking at you." I knew instantly that all these men were ogling and fantasizing about my wife. I felt irritated by all the attention, but I couldn't ignore the enormous pride either. All these men were looking at my wife, MY wife. Damn was I a lucky man, I thought.
Monica took a seat at the back corner of the open lounge. It had about a dozen red leather sofas pointing in all directions, with a few side tables and concrete planters mixed in. Half of the sofas were occupied with middle-aged men working on their laptops or smartphones. I think I saw only one other woman, dressed in business attire and glasses, having what looked like a serious conversation on her expensive-looking phone. Monica in her casual jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt looked quite out-of-place. She sat down on the far sofa, directly facing me, and crossed her feet up on the table in front of her. She opened her laptop, and I glanced over occasionally to see confused looks on her face. After a few minutes, she closed the computer and set it aside, instead taking out one of our favorite country-style decorating magazines.
Bryce
I kept checking the time and only moved up about 3 spots in line over the next half-hour. I was bored stiff and got so caught up watching the five people who were obviously travelling together having an argument with one of the hotel employees, I never saw where the man--now sitting next to my wife--came from. Even though I was watching from at least 60 feet away, this appeared to be one very good-looking guy. He was clean-shaven with dark brown hair--almost black--and dressed in jeans and a pretty snazzy-looking long-sleeve buttoned black shirt. His muscular arms bulged against the sleeves and I could make our just a hint of dark chest hair poking over the top button. He was sitting with his legs spread, leaning forward over his own laptop but staring straight at my wife's big hazel eyes. He was doing a lot of talking and she seemed to be transfixed by his voice, never once looking away.
After a few more minutes of his blathering, she opened her laptop again and handed it directly to him! Wow, my wife who naturally distrusts strangers meets some guy in a hotel lobby and hands her new computer over to him in just a few minutes?? "Who is this guy," I thought. A few seconds later, he gave her computer back to her and she had a huge smile on her face, then pointed toward me and waved. I waved back and the stud who'd been schmoozing my wife also waved. Weird. She put her laptop back in her bag and they both got up and walked toward me. This was getting weirder.
They reached me just as I was finishing up with the hotel clerk. I grabbed the room keys and paperwork and turned around to face them both.
"Bryce McAllister," he said firmly as he reached out his hand like an old friend.
"I'm Lee and I see you've already met my wife Monica," I responded with a slightly raised eyebrow I was trying to hide.
"Yes, I was just showing Monica which Wi-Fi router to connect to. There musta been a dozen or so showing up on her laptop, and you can never be too safe, you know?"
I was starting to like this guy already. Offering my wife a helpful hand? And knows his technology? And judging by the sly glances he was throwing at my wife as she walked toward me, it seemed like we had a LOT in common!
Monica piped in, "Hey Babe. Bryce was just telling me he's from Idaho. You know how I've always wanted to move there!"
"Idaho? What brings you to Texas?"
"I'm actually going to the University of Houston. Working on my masters in mechanical engineering. I just got out of a meeting a few minutes ago with other lecturers participating in tomorrow's sessions. Was about to head back home. But it's like an hour's drive and I wanted to check my email before I left. Expecting a new project assignment by one of my professors."
"Oh, so you're going to be lecturing tomorrow? Wow, that's pretty cool. What topic are you talking about," I asked as I noticed Monica out of the corner of my eye standing slightly behind Bryce staring at his ass before moving her focus to his broad shoulders.
"It's on a new manufacturing efficiency methodology I'm writing my thesis on. The theory is only 2 years old, so there aren't too many experts out there, as you can see here, since they only managed to get a grad student to speak at this conference."
Wow, this guy really had it together, I thought. He seemed very smart, spoke very well, was undoubtedly very handsome, was quite muscular, and even smelled good. Yes, I was getting a little jealous. And the way my dear wife was looking him up and down repeatedly certainly didn't help matters.
