The door to the common area opened and a lady near my own age walked in carrying a book or two. I sat there watching the news, not doing anything special.

“I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?”

“Oh god no, a little company would be great.”

She sat across from me and we started talking about typical stuff. We were there for a conference for several days. As odd as it sounds, the conference center wasn’t associated with a hotel and it had its own accommodations, including dining and a bar. The downside was the bar had closed, so all we had was the one bottle of wine I already started. We shared a glass when the door opened again.

This time it was a much younger woman, maybe half my age. She smiled at us, but instead of engaging, she grabbed a newspaper off a table and curled up in a large chair.

The other lady had her fill of a boring evening, thanked me for the wine and headed out. I was thinking about doing the same, but I glanced over at the young woman and was a little intrigued. She had some amazing artwork on her arms and legs. I’d never had the urge to get tattooed, but I did appreciate some of the amazing art I’ve seen on some people, particularly on attractive women. I think I glanced over once too often because she stood and came over.

“You can get a better look if you had moved closer,” she said a little sarcastically.

I stuttered apologetically, “I’m . . . I’m sorry. I was intrigued by your tattoos. They are amazing.”

“That’s okay, you can look all you want. I love all the attention they get me. Intrigue all you want. Do you want me to turn?”

I was still embarrassed at getting caught looking.

She smiled more gently, “It really is alright, it’s not like I thought you were perving out on me. One of the guys at the conference couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. I thought the fucker was going orgasm just from looking at me. I’m gonna be a little late tomorrow so I can sit far from that idiot.”

I sympathized with her to some degree. Of course, while I look pretty good for my age, I no longer drew the same level of attention from guys, unless they had mommy-issues and I still was not interested.

She turned slowly and I got an eyeful. The artwork was amazing, but even it paled in comparison to the canvas. She wasn’t tall, probably about five-foot-two or three, but she was marvelously curvy in all the right places with wonderful hips. She was in a sort of denim jumper shorts with a sleeveless top under the straps. Her arms were not completely covered with art, but there was a fantasy theme that seemed to go from one arm to the other. Her right leg had what looked like a tail wrapped around it and the other has flowers and other vegetation.

“Your tats are amazing.”

“I love ‘em. But you need to see my back to get the full effect.” Without a thought to anything else, she unhooked her jumper straps and let them fall, then pulled off her top. I could see she was wearing a white bustier that zippered up her back. The part of the art that was visible above it was tantalizingly brief.

I think the temperature in the room went up by twenty degrees.

She stepped back toward me. “You have to unzip it for me.” She stood between my spread legs as I felt the temperature surge again.

I touched her with slightly shaking fingers and she said, “A little at a time, and nice and slow, very slow.” Her voice took on a husky tone that went right through me.

I slid the zipper down a few inches, the material wasn’t stiff and it folded down easily, giving me a better view. I couldn’t tell what the image was, but I could see part of it went up to her shoulder and out on her arm. I inhaled sharply and her spicy scent was floral with something else subtlety perfuming the air.

The next few inches were a little harder, the bustier was very form-fitting and I could tell she filled it well. The material folder down and showed me what had to be part of a dragon or another fantasy creature. I so much wanted to touch her skin.

At the halfway point I could see much of the tattoo, but I wasn’t sure I really cared. Her back was amazing, smooth and sexy. The art enhanced it without stopping you from realizing how lovely she was. The anticipation I felt was so palatable. She never moved a muscle, I had no idea what she was thinking.

She reached around and stilled my hand. “The rest of it, all at once.”

I paused and then rapidly pulled the zipper down. The bustier fell away. The image was amazing! I couldn't stop myself and put my hands on her waist. She turned her head to look at me as I leaned forward and was about to kiss the center of that incredible work of art when — I woke the fuck up!

Like I was when I had fallen asleep, I was alone in my bed. The sheet was pulled off from one side of the mattress, the room smelled of sex and I realized I was soaked. My panties were wet, there was a large wet area on the bed. I looked around feverishly as I realized I was only dreaming! I never remembered my dreams, but I will never forget that magnificent face above the most incredible tattoo. I remember all that, and then I pounded the bed in frustration. I could remember so much, but I couldn’t remember exactly what that tattoo looked like, only that it was amazing!