Stephanie Burton sat across from Evelyn Page in a pleasant conference room with good ventilation and lighting even if the lighting was from LEDs rather than natural sunlight because there were no windows. Stephanie smiled and said "I want you to write down your most significant sexual experiences over the last ten years. Try not to leave anything out."
"Why do you want me to do that?" Evelyn asked.
"Because it is an important step in you achieving your goals -- the goals we talked about yesterday," Stephanie responded. "Here is some paper and a pen."
"We're not in the Middle Ages -- can't I use a computer?" Evelyn inquired.
"Trust my expertise when I say that using a pen and paper will be more effective in achieving your goals, Evelyn."
Thumbing through the paper and looking at the pen Evelyn continued "Do I have to do it on this letterhead; I'd rather have some plain, college ruled, paper. And this pen has engraving on it -- I'd rather have a plain one."
Stephanie smiled. "Sorry, but that's the only paper we have but let me find another pen for you." Stephanie searched her purse, pulled out an almost new $45 Sheaffer Prelude Ballpoint Pen and with a smile handed it to Evelyn. "Will this do?"
Evelyn smiled. "That's more like it; I love the cobalt blue and gold color and," scribbling on one of the sheets of letterhead, "it moves so smoothly over the page. Maybe I'll just keep it," she smiled.
"We'll see about that," Stephanie laughed. "Just get to work; I'll have my assistant Beth come in to keep you company and to get you a beverage or snack if you would like. I hope that you can complete it within three hours."
"No problem," Evelyn replied. "Please ask Beth to bring me a Pepsi Zero if you have one."
"I will," Stephanie replied, pushed her thumb against the plate on the wall next to the door, and then walked out.
As soon as the door closed Evelyn started writing, barely looking up when Beth brought in the Pepsi Zero and took a seat opposite Evelyn as Beth started reading one of several trashy magazines that she brought with her.
***********
Evelyn's handwriting was very neat and easily readable:
"It was December, 2014. I was sitting by myself at a table in a Hyatt hotel bar with a drink in my left hand, admiring as I always did the large emerald cut diamond with ruby baguettes engagement ring, and platinum wedding band, on the ring finger of my left hand. I wasn't particularly fond of Des Moines, but I did have a good reason for being there. I hoped that my skirt wasn't too short so that it drew unwelcome attention. It didn't look too short when I was getting dressed for the evening. I had considered just staying in my hotel room, which was a block away, and watching TV, but I had worked hard that day and needed some release -- without having to get a taxi or rental car.
I was minding my own business when a decent looking guy -- with a prominent gold ring on his left hand ringer finger -- approached me. "Hi, I'm Charles. I'm just travelling through, leaving to go back to New York tomorrow. I've had a hard day and would love for some good conversation to relax me. Would you mind if I sit with you?"
"I guess not if it's only conversation you're looking for," I smiled, turning my left hand so that he couldn't miss my rings.
He was a good conversationalist; however he was a little obvious in his "politeness" in offering to get me drinks. He probably didn't know that there was a potted Philodendron under the table, within my reach, that I poured most of my drinks into. I hoped that it wouldn't kill the plant -- it was nice and green -- but that was up to Charles. If the drinks he was buying for me were doubles, and there were a multiplicity of them, I'm afraid that the poor 'dendron was doomed. I really hoped that he wasn't a plant killer -- that might piss me off.
I was sorry to hear that Charles' wife "Doesn't understand me."
After a hour or so of conversation Charles changed tactics. He started complimenting me on my appearance -- not my personality or intelligence, or some other "deep" characteristic of mine -- but my appearance. How "shallow" of him. I mean I do look good. I have big boobs, a nice face that doesn't need makeup to glow, a bubble butt, and legs that are sculptured, but what trivial compliments they were for someone who seemed to pride himself on his ability to intelligently converse.
I sighed when he held my hand -- even touching my engagement and wedding rings -- and proposed that we retire to his room at the Hyatt -- 439 I believe it was -- for a more private drink.
I had hoped that he wouldn't proposition me, but he had and I was dismayed that I felt obligated to accompany him. Off to his room we went, but I insisted that it be separately. "How do I know that you'll come up to my room in ten minutes?" he asked with a leer.
"Here's my wedding ring," I said as I removed it from my finger and gave it to him. "Put it back on my finger when I arrive."
He really liked that and went to the elevator with a spring in his step.
When I got to room 439 Charles' leer was even more dramatic. I required that he return my ring to my finger before we had any contact -- he graciously did so.
As Charles clumsily removed my top it was clear that he was very excited by the lack of a bra covering my D cup east-west tits with prominent nipples. Actually it felt fairly good when he sucked them, although his mauling was a little intense. He also seemed pleased that when my skirt was removed that I had no panties on.
Charles was a little crude in the remarks he made about my "sweet cunt" (I hate that word -- not "sweet" but "cunt") as he was licking it while fingering my clitoris. I guess that I wasn't bummed enough not to have an orgasm. He was also a little forceful when he inserted his rather large cock into my vagina without even having taken his pants and boxers completely off. His seminal fluid was pleasantly hot when it spewed into my cooch -- why he didn't have the decency to put a condom on I don't know -- but I didn't really have another orgasm when he did that.
I did have another orgasm, however, when after he removed his slimy cock from my vagina I slipped off the bed and went over to my bulky purse. I then returned to the bed. Shortly after I returned to the bed that I wiped off his now limp cock with a washcloth, put it in a plastic bag, got dressed, and took the plastic bag with me. He didn't say how much he had enjoyed himself before I left; that was a little disappointing.
I was surprised by the hubbub in front of the Hyatt when my taxi drove by there from my hotel on the way to the airport at about 10 a. m. the next day. I never did inquire about why there were police cars almost blocking the road in front of the Hyatt."
************
Evelyn's writing had even more flourish in her second story:
"It was April, 2016. I was sitting by myself at a table in the Marriott North hotel bar with a drink in my left hand, admiring as I always did the large emerald cut diamond with ruby baguettes engagement ring, and platinum wedding band on the ring finger of my left hand. I wasn't particularly fond of Cincinnati, but I did have a good reason for being there. I hoped that my skirt wasn't too short so that it drew unwelcome attention. It didn't look too short when I was getting dressed for the evening. I had considered just staying in my room in the hotel next door and watching TV, but I had worked hard that day and needed some release -- without having to get a taxi or rental car.
A half dozen guys approached me -- they had that "Want to hit that piece of ass" look -- but they were deterred when I made sure to display my prominent rings on my left hand ring finger.
Devin, however, who "subtly" put a ring from his left hand into his pants pocket before he approached me clearly wasn't deterred by what happened to the others. He used a line right from "Best Forty Pickup Lines" on the Internet: "Did your license get suspended for driving all those guys who approached you crazy?"
"Whatever do you mean?" I coyly replied.
"I couldn't help but watch you shoot down six guys -- that I counted -- who approached you. Must mean a suspended license," he cackled apparently proud of his cleverness. When I didn't tell him to get lost -- although I did once again prominently display my rings -- he continued. "My name's Devin, what are you doing in Cincinnati; you don't look like a local," he said as he sat at my table without an invitation.
Unlike Charles, Devin didn't try to ply me with drinks. He was either more confident -- he was much better looking than Charles -- or cheaper; maybe both. He didn't take as long as Charles to proposition me. When he invited me to his hotel room for a drink he made a point of mentioning that it was a luxury suite.
