Sebastian could tell that she was upset, but was not quite sure if he should attempt to console her, or for that matter, exactly how he would go about approaching her with an offer of comfort. He had seen the despondent expression she had been wearing on her face all night and thought that she looked like she might be about to cry when she excused herself from the table and left the banquet hall to go upstairs to her hotel room. He had quickly said goodnight to his dining companions at the next table and followed her to the lobby, not totally sure of what he was intending to do if, and when, he caught up with her.
"Donna," he offered tentatively as he reached her at the elevator.
"Sebastian, hey..." she sheepishly replied with a deep, dejected breath that seemed to make her chest double in size.
"Um, you seem kind of upset," he continued cautiously. "I was wondering if there was anything I could do?"
"No, I'm..." she half-responded with obvious difficulty.
"Hey," he interjected, trying to sound apologetic as the elevator doors opened. "If you need someone to talk to..."
"No, it's nothing." She said with a forced smile as the two of them stepped into the elevator.
"I just..." he began, pausing to place a supportive hand on her shoulder as the elevator doors closed. "If you need anything..."
"Well," she suddenly snapped back. "My housekeeper quit yesterday, my analyst is on vacation, my Lexus broke down last week, I split my nail, my husband is fucking somebody at the office and I'm stuck at this stupid conference for another two days."
"Donna, I..." he started, shocked at his co-worker's unexpected venting.
"The bastard looks twice as good today as the day we were married." She continued. "I just look twice as old."
"Are you kidding? You look..." he paused, seeing the pain in her eyes from the neglect her husband had put her through. "Well, I just hope that when I'm his age I can wake up every morning and find a woman half as beautiful as you are lying next to me."
Sebastian meant it too - he did think she was beautiful. Even though she was easily twenty years older than him, somewhere in her early fifties, he had always found himself attracted to her.
"Thank you." She said with a sincere smile as the elevator doors opened.
He watched her as she stepped out into the hallway. She did look beautiful, wearing a curve-flattering, black one-button blazer that barely seemed to contain the ample pair of well-formed breasts that hid beneath it. The matching pencil skirt came down to just above the knees and fit snug around her toned ass. Underneath the jacket, the top of her low-cut, blueberry coloured, lace-trim camisole peaked out suggestively. Sheer black stockings covered her shapely legs, and her feet were tucked inside a stylish pair of black satin pumps with four and a half inch heels. The beachy waves and messy part gave her blonde, shoulder-length bob a tousled finish.
A part of him felt guilty about what he was about to do, but the horny devil inside him knew that he could not let such an opportunity pass him by.
"Can I make a personal observation?" He offered as he followed her out of the elevator.
"Umm... okay." She replied, somewhat taken aback.
"You know, whoever convinced you that you had to be 21 forever was full of shit." He stated matter-of-factly, turning on the charm as they walked down the hallway. "I think you're terrific. I think the only thing wrong with you is that your husband is a jerk. You're beautiful, you're intelligent, you're... sensuous."
"Say that again." She replied softly, completely stunned, but incredibly flattered by his comments
"Which part?" He asked with a smile, his heart pounding so hard that he thought he could hear it echoing down the hall.
"All of it." She whispered as they stopped in front of the door to her room. "You're very sweet."