Pushpas Ambition

I was staying at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Montreal. The big Pulp & Paper trade show I had been attending all week had just finished and I was returning to my room to pack for an early departure in the morning. It was about seven o'clock in the evening. As I walked along the fifth floor to my room, a young Indian lady came up beside me. "Excuse me, Mr. Albert. I'm Pushpa, Pratap Acharya's wife. He is at the regional sales meeting downstairs this evening. Can I talk to you?"

I looked at her. She was good looking, small and thin -- and well dressed in a thick white, turtleneck sweater, black dress pants and shiny black high-heeled boots. She sported some nice looking jewelry. I wondered if she was a high-class hooker with a new opening line.

"Pratap doesn't know I'm here," she said walking along beside me. "I wanted to meet you and talk to you about my husband's future in the company." We had just arrived at my room. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, Mrs. Acharya. Please come in," I said unlocking the door and pushing it open for her.

"Please call me Pushpa. And may I call you Dennis?" she smiled. Why she would want to call me Dennis when my name is Andrew, I do not know. Nor did I particularly care. I smiled at her and led her into the spacious room.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked casually.

"Well, you know that Pratap is a candidate for the assistant sales manager's job. If he got the job, I'm sure we should be seeing a lot more of each other, and I wanted to assure you that if he got the job we could be good friends. It's so important to get on with one's husband's colleague's and associates." She had a wonderful Indian singsong accent with a crisp, lilting English pronunciation.

"I'm sure we could indeed be friends," I lied. "You are so charming!"

"We would meet socially and be thrown together quite often, Dennis."

"Indeed, Pushpa." I said. I took off my jacket and laid it on the bed. I was stood face to face with her beside the dressing table.

"How can we become good friend's?" I asked. "Do you play golf?"

She laughed. "I'm not very good at outdoor sports."

I got the feeling she was putting the pressure on for her husband to get a promotion, and she thought I figured somewhere in the process. I felt quite bold. If it was the real me in that situation, I would probably act like a perfect gentleman. But since it was assumed that I was Dennis Albert, I felt confident in pushing the envelope.

"Just how friendly do you want to be?" I asked.

"With you, Dennis, very friendly. Our relationship could be a happy one for both of us."

"So how friendly do you want to be?" I asked again.

"Oh Dennis, " she smiled, "you are not making this easy."

"You're the one who wanted to be friendly. I was just wondering how friendly and how soon?"

She moved towards me a little and brushed the back of her hand across my pants.

"That is just a little friendly," I smiled down at her. "I am warming to you already."

"I thought this might develop more slowly, "she said.

"Time moves on in business. You have to keep progressing or get left behind"

She looked me in the eye as she pulled down my zip and felt for my cock. I undid my belt and pushed my pants and shorts down to my knees. As it became released, my dick sprang up like a jack-in-a-box. She took it in her hand and started to stroke it up and down.

"Now we have a relationship, " I said. She looked a little sad. Was this more than she had bargained for I wondered? I pushed my hand up under her sweater and put my hand over her bra.

"Oh, Dennis, I'm not ready for this yet!" she said.

"You came to me Pushpa." I said as I pushed up her bra and caressed her bare tit.

She stopped resisting. I slid her sweater up so that I could look at both of her small, dark nipples. I began to squeeze and play with them. This must have turned her on a little because the pace of her strokes up and down my dick became a lot faster as her nipples stiffened. She was breathing a little harder as I ejaculated. She gasped and pulled away.

"You came!" she exclaimed.

"What did you expect?" I asked. I put my hand to her crotch.

"Oh, no! Not yet, Dennis. I'm not ready for that yet. Let Pratap get the job first and we'll take it from there."

"That's fair enough. I think you and I will get along just fine, don't you?

"I believe we will." She said regaining her composure and readjusting her sweater. " I really must be getting along now, Dennis. I'm glad we had this little chat. I think we will work well together."

"I'm sure we'll be a real team." I said mustering as much dignity as possible for someone standing there with his pants around his ankles.

"I'll let myself out, Dennis; and thank you for your time."

"Thank you, Pushpa. So nice to meet you." I said as she closed the door behind her.

I often wondered whether Pratap ever got that assistant manager's job. I especially would have loved to see the look on Pushpa's face when she met the real Dennis Albert.