She sits across the room, on the other side of the U-shaped conference table layout. I don't fixate or obsess on her but there is intrigue. When we first met three years ago - our only previous meeting - it was unremarkable; a quick introduction among a knot of cocktail party guests followed by perhaps five minutes of polite small talk. This morning, as we were gathering for our meeting, we exchanged brief pleasantries again. Nice to see you again, how've you been, that sort of thing. I felt something unusual. A spark? Certainly I wasn't seeking, especially at 9 on a Wednesday morning after a flight in the evening before. She is attractive but by no means a head-turning beauty. And yet, that certain something that I can't put a finger on. Sexy perhaps, or sexual. Not a thing I am used to experiencing. It wasn't overwhelming so I quickly put it out of mind as we settled and got on with our day, our annual meeting with the large customer for whom she works, held in a neutral city.
From time to time, stolen glances across the room. I begin to daydream, fantasize a bit. I gradually convince myself that she is indeed a very sexual being. Again, intrigue. But not strong enough to distract me. She gives a brief presentation to the room. I ask her a fairly basic question and she responds in a flustered manner. I don't interpret that as anything but business nerves.
After the meeting, dinner. She arrives late and sits far away from me. I don't pay her any mind, concentrating on the other guests around me. By the time we are walking back to the hotel I've quite forgotten her. I'm about to head to the elevators when one of my co-workers drags me to the bar where a few of the dinner guests have decided to retire for drinks. I sit on a banquette and turn to find her sitting next to me. We talk, first with the others, but soon just the two of us leaning into a deeper, somewhat personal conversation. The rest of the party heads upstairs, and we decide to order one more drink. I think nothing of it. The mood turns flirtatious - or does it? There is the matter of the wedding band on her finger. Just playful banter, I suppose. Until this: "You are a very attractive man." And later, this: "I'd like to spend some time with you tonight." I've thought about this and I won't let it ruin my marriage. I can contain this. Without thinking I lean in for a tender kiss. My heart races, my entire body is shot through with adrenaline. I call for the check and we walk to the elevators hand in hand. I don't do this. I wasn't looking for this. It is impossibly exciting.
The door closes and we attack one another. Clothes quickly shed. The slender body I had admired is gradually revealed to me. She stands behind me and reaches around to stroke my cock, whispering in my ear that it's been twenty years. Deep kisses. Exploration. Touch, taste, smell. The lack of condoms - who would have anticipated this - does not lead to hesitation and I plunge into her. The feeling of her enveloping me is exceeded by the sheer naughty forbidden nature of the act. My inner animal takes over and so does hers. I explode, emptying myself onto her body. We embrace and then she gathers her things, dresses, and heads back to her room.
The next day she catches the early flight back home to her wife, and I to mine, the warm memories of an evening of unexpected and forbidden passion locked in our secret vaults.
