My First Business Conference

I sat in the huge meeting hall of the San Diego Convention Center waiting for the keynote speaker to begin his insightful, though most likely useless, remarks. The hospital I worked for had sent me on an all expenses paid vacation from the drudgery of the nine to five office grind in hopes I'd pick up some gems on how to improve the bottom line. Such gems hardly ever come from keynote speakers. If gems are to be found, it will be in the working sessions later -- keynote addresses are about as useful and practical as your commencement speaker's advice to your class when you graduated.

I was looking over the conference material which detailed the topics of all of the sessions, and I was marking the meetings which I planned to attend later that morning, when a man came down the middle aisle and paused by the row of seats where I sat.

"Is this seat taken?" I heard someone say. I looked up and saw a rather cute middle-aged man standing next to the vacant aisle seat immediately to my left. He was tall and had salt and pepper hair. He wasn't a god-like figure, or anything like that; just an ordinary guy who happened to also be cute.

"Oh no, please, go right ahead." I said.

Hmmm, I thought, very cute ... but he's got to be at least ten or fifteen years older than me. I crossed my legs and tugged my rather short skirt down a bit and noticed the guy staring at my legs.

"So, where are you from?" I asked the man, just making polite conversation. I've always been the outgoing type. My husband teases me that I'm the kind of person that when I go to the lady's room and encounter someone there, I come out knowing all the names and ages of the woman's children, and, the current status of her sex life.

"Pittsburgh, and you?" He said, also being polite.

"San Francisco. Is this your first time at this conference?" I asked.

"Oh no, I've been to quite a few of these over the years. How about you?" He replied.

"Yes, it's my first. I actually wasn't even supposed to come -- my boss usually does - but he got sick and so I came instead." I told him. "So, what do you do at your hospital?"

"Ah, computers ... I'm ah, the department head, and you?" As he spoke, I came to the conclusion that he was a rather shy type; I'm not sure how I knew, I just did.

"Finance department, I'm a financial analyst." I said. "So, what sessions are you planning on attending later?"

He gave me the topics of several meetings he planned to attend and I noted that at least one of them was the same as a meeting I'd just marked on my conference schedule.

"I guess I'll be seeing you again. I'm going to some of the same meetings." I told him and smiled.

Just then, the conference host approached the microphone and asked for quiet and began the general session. Someone lowered the lights and the giant hall became dark except for the huge screen at the back of the stage. The screen displayed the organization's logo and would latter display the slides of the keynote speaker's talking points.

The general session dragged by as the keynote speaker droned for an interminable amount of time and then, mercifully, he was finished. The host guy came back, made some announcements and then we were all released to go and feast on the real meat of the conference at the various informative sessions we each chose to attend, given our interests or job titles.

"Oh I just hate these general sessions ... they're such a waste, except for the announcements at the end. That's why you can't skip them." The guy next to me said as the house lights came up.

"Yes, I agree, but at least I was able to catch up on my sleep." I said and chuckled. As I leaned over to pick up the complimentary conference tote bag I'd been given at registration, and my purse, both of which I'd set on the floor by my feet, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the guy was doing his best to subtly look down my blouse which was fairly low cut. I wondered if he found my black lace bra sexy.

The guy was standing next to his seat as I stood up. He was obviously waiting for me to walk out with him. How sweet, I thought, he likes me ... and my legs and my breasts. But, I liked the fact that he was interested in me; it gave me a little thrill. I tend to be a bit of a flit and a tease sometimes.

We talked on the way out; I asked what he thought of the keynote speaker's assessment of the future of the industry and he was happy to give his opinion as we left the big hall. At the exit we went our separate ways, but I knew I'd see him later and it occurred to me that I really wanted to see him again. I found myself thinking about how cute he was and how delightfully shy he was until some raging extrovert like me gets him to open up and then discovers that he was rather fascinating after all.

I went on to my meetings and the morning dragged by until I got to the last morning session before the two hour lunch break. I knew from what he'd said earlier that I could expect to see him at that session, so as I entered the room I stopped and scanned the audience until I saw him sitting on the aisle about half way down. I walked up to where he sat and saw him looking over handouts from one of the previous meetings he'd attended.

"Is anyone sitting there?" I asked, indicating vacant the seat next to him. He hadn't noticed me standing by him; he was so engrossed in his reading material.

"Oh no, it's ... oh! It's you; how nice to see you again." He said. He seemed delighted that I'd sought him out.

He stood to allow me to get past. I turned sideways and squeezed by him making sure my butt slid across the front of his pants -- I'm pretty sure I felt his cock press against my left ass cheek for just the briefest moment, though it could have been keys in his pocket. I sat down in the seat next to him. When I leaned forward to set my purse and tote bag down, I saw his eyes look in the direction of my breasts again. When I sat up straight again, I glanced at his lap and I saw that he seemed to have a tent pole problem, but then, he set his reading material on his lap to hide it.

Its funny how most times a woman finds it really annoying when men stare at your body like you were a piece of meat on display at the supermarket. But then, every so often, someone gives you the exact same look and the next thing you know, your panties are getting moist - know what mean, ladies? Well, my panties were getting moist.

I crossed my legs again. I did it purposely to see the cute man's reaction; and as expected, his eyes shifted in my direction, though his head did not move. What I didn't do this time when I crossed my legs was pull the hem of my skirt down. I let it ride up high on my thighs and stay there. I noted that his eyes kept returning to my legs. I do pride myself on having a very good body, and my legs are no exception.

"How were your meetings this morning?" I asked. He went on a bit telling me what he thought -- some were good, others, a waste of time.

"How about you; learn anything useful?" He asked. I gave him a very brief assessment of my sessions.

"So, what does one do for lunch around here?" I asked. I was hoping I'd be able to maneuver him into asking me to have lunch with him, without me seeming too eager, even though I was -- I was really beginning to like the guy.

"They have a few places to eat here in the conference center, but from previous experience, I've found that if you want real food you have to go out. I saw a list of places in the registration materials that are within walking distance; but the only problem is, if you wait for this last session to end you'll find yourself waiting forever to get a table. So, I always duck out about fifteen minutes early." He explained.

"Hmmm ... sounds like a good idea. I think I'll leave early too."

"Say, would you like to join me for lunch? I don't know anyone else here and I'd really like to have company." He asked.

"Oh, why thank you. Yes, I'd like that; I really dislike eating by myself." I said.

We chatted a bit more before the meeting started. It was one of the more informative sessions and I was making notes on my copy of the handouts when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked at the guy and he was pointing at the watch on his wrist. It was time to sneak out of the meeting. I grabbed my purse and tote and followed the guy out of the room.

Outside he asked me where I'd like to eat.

"Oh, I don't know ... you pick. By the way, I don't think I got your name; I'm Barbara but everyone calls me Barb." I said.

"It's John -- same as it says right here on my name badge - pleased to meet you." He said while pointing at his name badge; and then he extended his hand as if we'd just been introduced. I took it and gave his hand a squeeze which he returned gently; not trying to overpower me as some guys do with a handshake. His hand felt good and I realized I didn't want to let go and so I held it a little than you'd expect, thus, making the moment a little awkward.

"Duh ... name badge, I feel a little stupid ... very pleased to meet you too, John." I said and then reluctantly released his hand. As I had held his hand, our eyes had locked and it occurred to me that he had very sensitive eyes that went with his otherwise gentle demeanor.

"Well ... yes, me too ... ah ... I guess we should get going before the hordes get to the restaurants." He said, sounding a little ill at ease -- his shyness again.

We walked out of the convention center. At the exit, he went ahead and opened the door for me, which I liked. I think of myself as a liberated woman, but I enjoy the little male-female rituals, like having a man open the car door for me.

"Why thank you, kind sir." I said. I gave him a coy smile as I passed.

It was only about a five minute walk to the place he'd chosen for us; an Italian restaurant -- one of those national franchise places where the food was good, but not spectacular. It was very noisy despite the fact we'd beaten the conference crowds. There were still enough local office workers to pack the place, so we still had to wait a couple minutes for a table.

The hostess called out John's name and was about to lead us to a table. My mind had been wandering and I hadn't noticed her announce that our table was ready. I felt a hand on my waist which jolted me back to reality.

"Barb, our table's ready ... right over here." He said and guided me in the right direction with gentle pressure on my waist. As we walked to a table for four, he kept his hand on me and it really felt good. At the table, John pulled my chair out for me -- again, I was impressed with his politeness and thoughtfulness.

When my husband and I go out to dinner, we sit across from each other. When we dated before getting married; we'd sit side by side in a booth, or if at a table, we'd always sit as close as possible to each other. John held my chair for me, and then sat in the seat next to me.

Geez, I thought, I feel like I'm on a date. I had butterflies in my tummy, too.

"It's very noisy in here." I observed. "I really prefer quiet little cozy mom and pop places. I wish knew San Diego better."

"Yes, it is loud here, but I guess there's not much they can do, especially with a big conference in town." He said. "I've been to San Diego quite a few times and I know of a really nice little place just like you described. Perhaps we could have dinner together this evening, unless you have other plans. We could go there, I'm sure you'd like it ... its very quaint and intimate." He offered.

As he said the word 'intimate' I noticed him grimace just a bit. I'm sure he thought he'd just committed a faux pas.

"Oh yes, I'd love that and, no, I don't have any plans ... I was just going to eat in the hotel restaurant." I said, suddenly ecstatic that I would get to see John again, but trying not to show it. It's all about decorum -- right ladies?

"Oh my ... you were going to have dinner at the hotel? I'm so happy I'll be able to save you from such a fate as the hotel eatery. It's a date then. What time?" He asked me.

"Oh ... ah, I have to call my husband this evening; I told him I would. Maybe seven-thirty ... is that too late for you?" I said. As an after thought, I told him which hotel I was booked into.

"No, no, seven-thirty is fine. And I'm staying at the same hotel -- it's the closet one to the conference center. I was really lucky to get a room there." He said. "OK, so I'll meet you in the lobby and we'll get a taxi ... it's not far ... a ten or fifteen minute drive from the hotel."

The waitress came and we ordered. Over the rest of lunch we talked and got to know one another better. He told me about his family -- he had three daughters, the oldest a senior in high school and getting ready for college. I figured out from what he told me that the three girls must each have been about two years apart in age.

"I'm surprised you have a daughter ready to graduate high school. You must have married very young." I said.

"We were both twenty-one and we waited quite a few years before having kids. Hell, I'm staring at the big five-oh next birthday. It's kind of scary actually, when I realize that I'm getting that old." He said.

"You're kidding. I would have guessed you to be in your thirties." I said, genuinely surprised at his age. But still, I thought him to be quite good looking; and I found myself being attracted to him, regardless of his age.

"Hmmm ... I'm guessing you're mid-twenties, right? I guess that means I'm old enough to be your father." He pointed out.

"Twenty-six." I said. "Shit ... ooops, sorry. You really don't look old enough to be my dad and you certainly don't act like my dad. Now my dad ... that's really old." I said, and laughed. But then it occurred to me that my father was only about five years older than John.

Our food came and we ate. We exchanged a few thoughts on the conference as we finished our meals. We declined the offer of dessert and split the check since we each would put our portion of the meal on our travel expenses for our respective jobs.

"Listen, we've got about forty five minutes before the next session, want to take a walk before we head back? It's such a beautiful warm day, not like Pittsburgh -- it was snowing when I left last night." John said.

"Sure."

We gathered our things and headed out. There was a huge line of people at the front waiting for a table.

We walked slowly and talked more.

"Do you have kids?" John asked.

"No, not yet. Phil and I have only been married a couple years. We both have our careers -- he's with a consulting firm and works some pretty long hours and he's often out of town on engagements for clients." I said. "But we'd both like a family and we've been talking about getting the process going."

We continued walking and found ourselves at the water's edge. A sign nearby identified the area as 'Fishermen's Wharf' -- I knew there was a famous wharf in Frisco, but had never heard of one in San Diego. There were lots of boats tied up at docks in an area enclosed by a seawall; some boats were large, many small, some new, and many showed their years and signs of the hard work they'd been put to. The working vesicles far out numbered the pleasure craft at the wharf. It was such a quaint picture; it looked like a scene from a century or more ago, juxtaposed with the high-rise sky scrapers of a thriving modern city.

"I just love this. Where's my camera?" I said and I started fumbling though my purse. "Here it is."

I held my camera up and framed the scene in the viewing screen -- the bright sunlight made it difficult to see the little screen; a failing of modern digital cameras. I zoomed in and got a couple shots of some of the more interesting boats.

"Could you take one of me with the boats in the background?" I asked John, holding out the camera to him. "Here ... just press this button half way until it makes a little sound then push it the rest of the way." Later, I discovered that John is an amateur photographer and probably knew more about my camera than I did.

"OK, big smile." He said as I stood next to a large concrete stanchion with huge chains attached to both sides. They looked like anchor chains, attaching the column to concrete pillars on either side, which in turn, ringed the wharf to keep people from falling into the water.

"Hold it; let me take a couple more ... that's the secret to getting a good shot." He said. He took a few seconds to look over my camera and pressed or twisted a few things and then took several more pictures.

"Here ... I put everything back on automatic for you." He said, returning my camera to me.

"OK, now your turn." I said. "Go stand over there." I pointed at the concrete pillar.

"Oh no, no ... you don't have to ..." He protested.

"No, I want to ... now get going ... please?" I said, employing one of those feminine tricks that girls all learn as we grow up ... I pouted.

"Alright." John said reluctantly and went over and stood where I'd asked him to.

I snapped a shot. "Wait ... let me get another." I zoomed in and got another shot from the waist up. "One more ..." Then I zoomed in more and got a close up of his face. I felt all tingly with excitement. The feeling of moisture between my legs had returned.

What am I doing, I thought, I'm married, I love my husband, I'm half his age ... hell, he's old enough to be my father ... but damn, there's something about him ...

"OK. That's it." I said. "Isn't it about time for us to be getting back?"

"Yes, I think you're right." He said. We walked back towards the convention hall.

"I really enjoyed having lunch with you, John." I said. "And I'm really looking forward to dinner tonight." I said as we re-entered the building.

"Me too. Do we have any sessions in common this afternoon?" He asked. We compared our schedules and saw that we did not.

"OK, well I guess I'll see you at seven-thirty then." He gave me his room number in case something should come up and I needed to call and cancel. I think, as a shy person, he probably expected me to bail on him.

"I'm in fourteen oh two, and I can't imagine any reason why I wouldn't join you. See you later John." And we parted company.

For the rest of the afternoon I was very fidgety and the meetings seemed to be competing with molasses to see which could go slower on a winter's day. I confess -- I kept taking my little camera out and sneaking peeks at the pictures I took of John at lunch time. Whenever I did, I felt a tightness in my chest and tingling in a very private area.

After the last meeting session, I went back to the hotel. As I walked back, I kept looking around hoping to see John, but I didn't. When I got to my room, I called Phil on my cell and gave him a brief synopsis of my day, well, of the conference anyhow -- I left out the details of lunch.

"So what are you doing this evening?" My husband asked.

"Oh, I'm going to have a nice relaxing bath, grab a bite to eat here at the hotel and then hit a movie -- there's one of those big multiplex things a few blocks from the hotel ... I asked at the front desk before I came up." I lied to husband. "I'm not sure what time I'll be back ... if its not too late, I'll call."

"I've got an early flight tomorrow, so I'll be hitting the sack early ... probably by ten." He said.

"OK, so I'll probably just call tomorrow evening then. Love you babe, good night." I said.

After talking with my hubby, I did indeed have that long hot soak in the tub. After my bath, I put on sheer black thigh high stockings. Then I pulled a tiny black thong up my legs and over my hips; it was little more than a g-string, really. I did my make-up and then went to my closet and removed the little black cocktail dress I'd brought with me in case there was some special event at the conference I might need to be dressed up for -- I had no idea when I'd packed for the trip if I'd need it, or not. It wasn't an extremely dressy garment, but rather a little dress that could double as a cocktail party dress or just a nice dress for dinner in a classy restaurant. I just hoped John didn't show up in jeans because then I really would look over dressed.