The alarm on Martin's phone woke him. It was 5.30 in the morning, and he had a hard-on, as he did every morning when he awoke. He looked at Jane, his mature, busty, and hot colleague lying next to him in the hotel bed, and was tempted to wake her. He knew that she would be reluctant to have a quickie, as she wanted him to leave and return to his own room before he was seen and thus rumbled her. At fifty-eight years old she didn't want to be the subject of gossip and for the word "desperate" to be whispered and sniggered over.
He swung his legs out of the bed and pulled on his clothes from the previous day. He avoided using the en-suite so as not to disturb her. He was tempted to carry his shoes instead of wearing them to allow him to tread more quietly, but decided that this would look more secretive and suspicious if he was seen. Instead he slid his shoes on and walked to the door as softly as he could.
His room was only on the floor below and he walked quickly and quietly along the corridor, down the stairs, then to his own room. Thankfully he encountered nobody. As quietly and smoothly as he could he turned his key in the lock, opened the door, stepped in and closed it behind him. He slid his shoes off.
He needed the toilet and was about to go to his en-suite when his mobile buzzed and vibrated in his pocket. He guessed that it would be from Jane, and decided to check his messages in case anything was wrong.
hi, have fun washing it off but not 2 hard luv jn
He shook his head in bemusement, tossed the phone onto the bed and went into the en-suite bathroom. He looked at his tired face in the mirror as he emptied his bladder. He hoped he would be able to stay awake at the workshops and presentations that day despite his lack of sleep. After all, he and Jane had had sex the previous evening when they retired for the night, and twice during the night as well.
He looked down; then he saw it. Along his half-erect cock was some black writing. It said simply "Jane's!" Now he understood her cryptic text message. He laughed out loud at her sauciness, writing her name on his cock as a claim of exclusive ownership while he was asleep. He ran his hand under the tap and over the soap and rubbed the writing. It remained intact. She had clearly used a permanent marker pen rather than a water-based one.
He felt annoyed. He would have to get every trace of it off. It would be mortifying if anyone spotted it if they stood next to him at the urinals later on. He took his clothes off and stepped into the shower. He cast his mind back to her text. He looked down at the writing again. There was no denying -- it did have a funny side to it. He laughed.
He did have fun washing it off, too. Breakfast would not be served for nearly two hours, and he was still hard and horny as he thought about the night before. He shafted himself slowly, then more quickly. The sight and feel of her satin nightdress. Her mature body in the half-light. The feel of her big breasts pressing against him and spilling over his hands. The sight of her bum cheeks as he withdrew from her pussy and squirted over them. He gritted his teeth as he called these and other images to mind, and jerked harder and faster, bracing himself against the wall of the shower as he came.
Then he gave his attention to her writing. He did mange to get it all off but he had to apply neat shower gel and rub it hard with his fingers. It took some time and several careful inspections. He laughed again, and when he went back into his bedroom he picked up his mobile, and keyed his reply.
hi jn. had fun washing it off but wont b able 2 manage 4 some time, sore, had 2 scrub v hard
He chuckled softly and got into his clean clothes.
He avoided sitting with her for breakfast and sat with other delegates for some of the presentations and seminars, too. He even managed to avoid looking at her too much. Just before one seminar, however, she caught his eye. She smiled, seemingly innocently, but picked up her pen and made a writing action in the air. He stifled most, but not all of his laugh. The bloke next to him looked at him.
"Sorry -- just a private joke," Martin muttered, hoping he hadn't blushed too deeply.
He caught up with her at lunchtime but apart from exchanging a couple of knowing glances and chuckles, neither referred to it.
________________________________________
At last the final presentation and question session finished, and they headed for the railway station. As well as his own holdall, he carried her overnight case, very mindful of some of the clothing that lay inside it. She was wearing a knee-length pink raincoat that was buttoned high. It was double-breasted and the colour suited her. He was slightly disappointed that her legs were bare and that she was not wearing stockings. He wondered whether she would invite him back to her house when they arrived back.
The journey home would take just over five hours. He was glad they had reserved seats, as it was the build-up to local rush hour. They settled in their seats and made small talk. After a while he closed his eyes and re-lived in his mind the sex that he and Jane had enjoyed over the last twenty-four hours. He felt pleasantly tired.
He looked out of the window until it went dark, and browsed through the National Geographic magazine he had bought. Jane also dozed off and read her book. He noticed one or two people look at its cover and at her. It was a steamy novel that had attracted a lot of publicity. He smiled to himself. He wondered whether she really wanted to read it or whether she was just doing it for effect. No doubt fellow-passengers would consider her past such books at her age. They would be shocked indeed if they knew some of the things she got up to!
They had to change trains and waited for a while for the connection. It was twenty five minutes late. He hated long journeys, especially train journeys, and even more so when they ran behind time. He just wanted to get home and chill out -- or maybe get to Jane's house and get hot! He still hoped that she would invite him back, but he was not going to push.
They finally approached her station. It was on the main line but the express services did not stop there, hence their need to change trains earlier. He had agreed to see her safely home and then get a taxi back to his house, which was about four miles form hers. He picked up her case and his own and they got off the train onto the platform.
Only three other people alighted and they soon disappeared. It had been a long day, and to his annoyance he realised that Jane had wandered over to the information board that displayed the timetables.
"Sorry, Martin. I'm just checking the train times for work next week. I have to take my car into the garage."
She reached into her bag for her diary and a pen. With a smirk she brandished the pen at him and mimed writing. His annoyance changed to laughter.
She jotted down a few times in the back of her diary and re-checked them back to the timetable. She fumbled in her bag, smiled, and rejoined him.
"Well, Martin -- it wasn't a bad conference. But I liked the night-time hands- on workshops the best!"
She scooped her hand under his groin and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked round, shocked, then realised that nobody was about. The others who had got off the train had now left. The station was small and unstaffed, too, and theirs had been the last train that day scheduled to stop there. They headed towards the subway that led under the tracks to the exit.
