Steve And The Indian Booth Babe

Bela: The Indian Booth Babe

This novella-length story is a tale of interracial romance, with strong elements of nonconsent/reluctance. Bela is a total figment of my imagination. If anyone cares the technology is real.

Note

: All explicit sex scenes involve characters well over eighteen years old.

#

I was already referring to it as the business trip from hell, and it had just gotten worse, a lot worse. I listened to the front desk manager of the Renaissance Las Vegas Hotel in disbelief.

"I'm sorry Mr. Williams. I only have one room left. Everything is booked for the trade show in the convention center. There is nothing I can do."

I didn't need to be told the International Food Industry Trade Show was being held across the street at the Las Vegas Convention Center. Bela and I had spent ten back-breaking hours in the boiling hot building setting up our booth. We had gone straight to the convention center because our red-eye flight had arrived late. We were in desperate need of a shower, food and sleep in that order. We had another day of arduous work ahead of us to prepare for the opening on Monday. The show was critical to the success of Paradox Corporation's second-generation food container inspection system. Both of us had sweat blood to get the new system ready for the show. Our jobs were on the line.

"But we reserved two rooms months in advance."

"We had to release your rooms when you didn't arrive by 6 PM. If you had a guaranteed reservation, we would have held them until noon tomorrow. We are sorry for the inconvenience, and that is why we are offering you a room."

I couldn't believe the cheapskates in our travel department had skimped on guaranteed reservations.

"Every hotel holds back rooms for emergencies. You can let us have one of those."

"I'm sorry I didn't make myself clear. I am offering you the last room we held back. If you don't want it, I'm sure the gentlemen behind you will take it."

I looked at Bela. My diminutive Indian software engineer looked exhausted. It wasn't in her job description to help assemble the heavy conveyor belts that cycled food containers through our demonstration system. As the program manager, my job description included anything that needed to be done. I just wished both of my beefy technicians weren't out on service calls for our trouble-prone first-generation units.

I made another try. "Can you see if another hotel has a room available?"

The desk manager gave a sigh and turned to his computer. He punched some keys and stared at the results.

He said, "The closest is the Fiesta Henderson Hotel and Casino. It has two rooms available."

"Henderson? How far from the convention center is it?"

"About 15 miles. Maybe 25 to 30 minutes by car."

"I need to rent a car."

The clerk frowned and turned back to his computer.

"No one has a car available. Everyone is arriving in town at the same time for the trade show. I can put you on a waitlist."

Bela whispered in my ear, "Take the room. I can sleep on the couch."

I stared at my diminutive Indian companion. We had hired Bela and her fiancée, Himnish, straight out of graduate school less than a year before. He had a master's degree in computer technology while hers was in computer science. Later, I found out her degree was more rigorous. She had been assigned to my project four months ago, to write the software that would detect glass shards in food containers. Her performance had been outstanding, and the project software would not have been completed without her tenacious efforts. Our relationship was reserved and restricted to technical matters. Our work sometimes required me to sit with her for hours to review her progress. One thing I knew about Himnish was that he was very jealous of Bela. Even though Himnish was working on an unrelated project, he managed to walk by regularly every time I sat with Bela. I imagine it is a cultural thing, but if looks could kill, I would have been brutally murdered long ago.

The department secretary told me Bela and Himnish came from conservative Hindu families in India. In their culture, unmarried women were never allowed to be around non-family males without an escort. When her fiancée learned about Bela attending the trade show he was furious. Our department director overheard Himnish screaming at Bela and intervened. When I told my boss, her attendance at the trade show was critical to the success of the product launch, he calmly explained to Bela and her fiancée that the company marketing director, Fred, and his assistant, Tiffany would be part of the team along with one of my technicians. My boss promised Tiffany would keep an eye on Bela. Without a pause, he smiled and threatened to fire them both if Bela did not go. Bela took Himnish aside to calm him down. When they returned, Bela announced she would be happy to go to the trade show. While she talked, Himnish glared at me with hatred.

India has far more applications for US citizenship than their country's immigration quota allows. However, there is a path to citizenship for individuals in specialty occupations when there are no US citizens qualified. If you have visited any US engineering college recently looking for recruits, you would know that our graduate schools are predominately filled by foreigners. I have a Ph.D. in Electrical Engineering, and I was one of only two US born citizens in my graduate program. I don't know if it is the demanding work or the financial burden that discourages Americans, but the fact is small companies cannot afford to hire the few available candidates with citizenship who are quickly hired by aerospace companies that require citizenship to get a security clearance. As a result, our company had eagerly recruited Bela and Himnish. We had also sponsored their applications for H-1B Temporary Work Visas. They could be deported if they lost their job at Paradox Corporation.

I was astounded by Bela calmly saying she would share the room with me, but I was exhausted, and we were out of alternatives.

I asked, "Are you sure?" Bela had that look of determination I recognized from our recurring arguments over the best approach to implementing a software module.

"Yes, Dr. Williams. Take the room. We don't have a choice. As long as Himnish doesn't find out, I will be Ok."

I turned to the desk manager and said, "Sorry for the confusion. We'll take the room."

"Very well, sir. I assume you'd like two keys."

"Yes, please. Can you have our luggage sent up?

"Luggage, sir?"

"We missed our connection at Dulles, and our luggage got misdirected. The airline said they found our luggage and would deliver it to this hotel by noon today. It probably arrived before your shift."

"I'll check in the back. Just a minute, sir."

Earlier I said it was turning into the trip to hell. When the desk manager returned, and announce the hotel didn't have our luggage, I knew we had officially arrived in hell. Bela and I only had our carry-on luggage. From previous travel misfortunes, I kept a change of underwear in my carry-on in addition to my travel laptop. Bela's carry on was only large enough to hold her laptop computer. My companion only had the clothes on her back. Her Madras shirt and baggy jeans had to be as sweaty and gross as what I was wearing.

The room was nothing like the beautiful rooms displayed on their website. I could see why it was an emergency room. The whine of the elevator next door only reinforced my assessment of the miserable room. It was small and barely had room for the queen-sized bed, dresser, desk and a small chair. So much for someone sleeping on the couch. The room was on the west side of the hotel, and the heat of the setting sun was overwhelming the straining air conditioner. Of course, the TV didn't work.

I said, "We should order room service for dinner. I don't think either of us is dressed for the dining room."

I opened my carry on and pulled out my spare clothes. I handed my tee shirt to Bela.

"I think you can wear these for pajamas. I normally sleep in my boxers. When I order dinner, I'll see if we can get our clothes laundered overnight. You can have the shower first."

I handed Bela the room service menu after I chose the least offensive entree for myself. I was so tired after a long flight and an even longer day of hard labor, I wasn't sure I could stay awake long enough to eat. I had made it through the day on massive doses of caffeine. Just in case I was too wound up to sleep, I ordered a bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

Tomorrow had to be a better day. The convention center staff promised that once all the exhibits were unloaded later tonight, the loading doors would be closed. This would allow them to turn on the air conditioning. We had assembled all the hardware components of our exhibition in the searing Las Vegas heat. I looked forward to an easier day checking out the software. With any luck, we could be up and running in a couple of hours. Of course, it was also possible something could have broken during shipping, and we would never get the system running. I tried not to think of all the possible things that could go wrong.

Bela finished her shower and left the bathroom to me. She had her dirty clothes in a bag ready for pickup by room service. Her long black hair was wrapped in a towel, and she was wearing one of the hotel bathrobes. I suppressed a laugh as I watched the bottom of her robe dragging on the floor. I had never seen her smile and doubted she would find a comment about her being vertically challenged amusing. I doubt she was even five feet tall. I'd never paid much attention to her body. Her standard outfit at work consisted of a pair of baggy jeans and a colorful but loose-fitting Indian shirt. Her most distinguishing features were her cute face and thick black hair that fell to her small waist in a braid. When we sat together for code reviews, I was always aware of her exotic fragrance hinting of sandalwood, cardamom, and chili peppers. Her sweet voice sounded like a bird greeting the dawn.

I took off my sweaty clothes in the bathroom and put them in a bag. I dropped them outside of the bathroom in case room service came while I was washing up. My hot shower was wonderful. I could feel the tension melt from my tired muscles. Of course, dinner arrived while I was in the shower. When I finished washing, I put on the hotel bathrobe that just covered my knees.

Bela was waiting to eat dinner when I got out of the bathroom. She said room service promised to have our clothes back by 6 AM. She had set the dinners on the desk. I could reach my dinner sitting on the bed and let Bela have the chair. There was an awkward silence as we ate. I was on my second glass wine by the time I finished eating.

I said, "Tomorrow is your day to shine. The hardware is set up and all we need to do tomorrow is load your software and verify it works. I appreciate your hard work today. Setting up hardware isn't part of your job description, but I couldn't have done it without you."

"I was happy to help, Dr. Williams. I am very pleased to be a part of your project. It is a new experience to use my software skills to do something that people find beneficial. Protecting infants from glass shards in their baby food is very rewarding."

"Please Bela, we are in Las Vegas. You should call me Steve."

Bela had expressed my feelings about the project very well. I had spent four years after graduate school working on weapons research for the United States military. My manager accepted a job as vice president of research and development at a small company in upstate New York, and he recruited me. I was single and happy to escape from a crowded city to a rural area known for outdoor activities in the nearby Adirondacks. I was also eager to work in the commercial sector applying my skills to problems that affected the lives of ordinary Americans. We were dedicated to making the system a commercial success. Bela and my careers depended on it.

I grabbed the wine bottle and said, "Bela, this is a very nice white wine. Would you like another glass?"

I was surprised when Bela giggled. 'Yes, please Steve. I never drink wine, but it tastes very nice."

I filled her glass and poured myself another; it was my third glass and her second.

"I'm sorry about the mix up on the room. I can't imagine what Himnish will say when he finds out about us sharing a room."

Bela frowned, "He would probably kill both of us very slowly, but I have no intention of telling him. Our secretary said, 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.' I hope it is true. It has to be."

"I hope she is right. I doubt Himnish would kill anyone, but I'd prefer not to experience his fury. I won't mention this to anyone back home. Just in case, if the phone rings, you had better answer it. I doubt you could explain to Himnish why I am in your room."

Bela pointed at her phone charging on the nightstand. "I promised to call him every night. I talked to him while you were in the shower. There is no reason he would call the room. As far as the hotel is concerned, I'm not even here. The room is in your name."

As I considered her statement, I absentmindedly emptied the rest of the bottle into our glasses. I didn't even consider what the third glass of wine would do to an inexperienced drinker who possibly didn't top 90 pounds dripping wet with her glasses on.

I said, "That could be a problem. If your cell phone dies, Himnish may try to call the hotel. He'll be suspicious if I'm the only one from Paradox registered as a guest. In the morning, I'll have the front desk put the room in your name. I doubt he has any reason to call me."

I was ready to call it a night, but both of us had a full glass of wine to finish. In the four months, we had worked together, we had never discussed anything about our private lives. The wine eased the awkwardness of our situation. Even so, I was caught off guard by her question.

Bela said, "Steve, do you have a girlfriend?"

She giggled again. "I mean, is there someone who would be upset if we share a room?"

"I was engaged to a woman in graduate school. When I went to Palo Alto for my first job, Jean went to law school. We promised to get back together when she finished. Her last summer, she got attacked by a serial killer. When she recovered, she married a rich guy from law school. She works in a law firm in New York City run by her father-in-law."

"I'm sorry. Surely a smart, handsome man like you has a lot of other opportunities."

I laughed. I'm an average looking guy. I'm five foot eleven and wiry. The only thing I have going for me are my brains. I'm not a genius by any means; I had to work hard to get my Ph. D. in physics. My studies left me little time for a social life, and I got a late start dating women. Jean was only the third woman I dated for more than a month.

"I've dated a little since I took the job at Paradox. The problem is that most of the available women in Upstate New York aren't interested in intellectual pursuits. Most of them are looking for a man with sound teeth and a good income, and I qualify. I get excited when I start dating a new woman, but it's always purely physical. Eventually, I become disinterested when I realize they've never had an original thought in their life. Lately, I've been trying several dating websites."

"I wish I could help. I know a few well educated Indian women, but you might not want to deal with the cultural differences."

I clinked my glass against Bela's and drained the rest of my wine. I said, "I have to admit, I am an elitist when it comes to intelligence, and I found the foreigner students in graduate school exciting. When we get back home, I may take you up on your offer to help fix my pitiful social life."

Bela laughed and drained her glass. I had never heard her laugh. I know I was a bit drunk after four glasses of wine, but her laughter sounded wonderful.

"I think we should get to bed. Tomorrow should be easier, but it could still hold a surprise or two. In any case, it will still be a hard day. You can have the bathroom first."

I watched Bela walk into the bathroom on unsteady legs. I hoped she didn't end up with a hangover. Tomorrow, she was going to need all her faculties to finish the installation.

I used the bathroom next. We had gotten toiletries from the front desk. All I had to do was pee and brush my teeth. I hung my bathrobe on the back of the door. The air conditioner had failed to cool the room enough and even stripped to my boxers, I was afraid I would be too warm for sleeping.

By the time, I returned to the room, Bela was in bed. I laughed to myself when I saw that she had placed one of the pillows in the middle of the queen-size bed to separate our sides. Her bathrobe was hanging over the desk chair. I tried not to think about the fact that the only thing she was wearing was my tee shirt. Bela had pulled all the covers off except for the sheet. I turned off the bedside lamp and crawled into my side of the bed. She was lying on her side facing away from me. Her light snoring suggested she was already asleep.

I lay on my back and tried to list everything we needed to do tomorrow. I fell asleep before I got to the third item.

I woke up sweating in the middle of the night. Bela was lying with her head on my lower chest. Her arms were wrapped around my bare stomach, and her legs were straddling my left thigh. My right hand was resting on bare skin in the middle of her lower back. Someone had kicked the sheet off. It only took a moment to realize her tee shirt had ridden up leaving her naked below the waist. The only light in the room was from a nightlight in the bathroom, but it was enough to see the contrast between her curvaceous brown butt and my pale skin.

I was close to panicking. I was Bela's manager, and she was engaged. I had no right to abuse my position. I tried to pull her tee shirt down, but it was pinned between our sweaty bodies. I forced myself to take long deep breaths. I smelled a hint of almonds from the hotel shampoo on her hair.

When I calmed down, I realize she was mumbling something over and over in her sleep. It took a moment for me to comprehend what she was saying.

"Himnish, please. I can't wait any longer. Please don't make me wait until we are married."

I knew she had been living with Himnish since they both joined Paradox. The address on their resumes suggested they had been living together in graduate school. I found it hard to believe that Bela might be a virgin. However, it would explain why Himnish was constantly irritated and jealous of any man who even talked to his fiancée. I don't know much about Indian customs, but I do know they were colonized by Victorian England. If the Puritans left Americans sexually repressed, I couldn't imagine what the Victorians had done to the home of the Kama Sutra.

While I was trying to figure out how to extricate myself from Bela's grasp without embarrassing both of us, she began rubbing her warm crotch on my thigh. I could feel her pubic hair grazing my bare thigh. I was stunned when I felt something wet on my thigh.

"Himnish, please. Ugh, please, uh, uh, ugh."

The side of Bela's bare hip was brushing against my cock. It wasn't long before I had a raging hard-on. I was terrified she would wake from her dream. I was too afraid to even move my hand from her back. Her breathing became labored as her movements became more forceful.

Suddenly she shuddered and wailed, "Uh, uh, oh Himnish jaanii."

She held tight for a few minutes before rolling onto her side with her sweaty back pressed against me. I could see daylight seeping around the edges of the curtains. I checked my watch and realized it was almost time for my alarm to go off. I carefully rolled out of bed and turned off the alarm. There was enough light coming through the curtains that I could see Bela's bare ass and trim legs. Her burnt almond skin stood out against the white sheets. She had narrow hips and a full ass that begged to be squeezed. Her thighs were parted enough to see curly black hair covering her still glistening pussy. I couldn't stop myself from staring at her sex despite knowing that at any minute, Bela might wake up and catch me. Once she told her fiancée of my audacious behavior, he would kill me slowly, and then I would rot in hell for eternity. I finally broke the spell and pulled the sheet over her body before hurrying into the bathroom.