Soft pattering about the room woke me. As my eyes adjusted to the morning, Deborah’s silhouette against the still-open window caught my eyes. That sight of her in just bra and panties brought back the smile from the night before.

She heard me stir. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“You didn’t wake me when you woke.”

“I knew if I did we’d both miss our commitments,” she replied. “And I have a breakfast in a bit with a potential client.”

No morning romp. But it was OK. We both had work to do.

I got up, kissed her on her neck as she applied her makeup, and got dressed.

“See you later?” I asked as I started to leave.

“Oh, you’ll see me sooner rather than later,” she teased.

A thousand and one possibilities swirled through my head in about three seconds.

I knew I had to get out of there, sooner rather than later.

We set up the stage for the first panel discussion of the day. There are three awful times to be on the agenda: first thing before the crowd is caffeinated, the last slot before lunch, and the last slot before happy hour. Clearly, I’d drawn one of the short straws.

Nonetheless, the early crowd flowed into the ballroom and began taking their seats a few minutes before 8:30. Conventions become a disaster if time constraints aren’t followed, so I and my three other panelists readied ourselves on stage a few minutes early.

Going over notes, talking points, and who would respond to what questions, I was immersed in the discussion while keeping a keen eye on the time. A couple of minutes before the appointed start time, I turned to check the crowd.

Right there, on the front row, square in front of the podium, sat Deborah.

A soft pink satin blouse accompanied a short, black skirt, black heels and a mischievous grin.

She winked.

I smiled.

Sitting beside Deborah was a younger lady I’d not seen. Though she was sitting, I guessed she was probably a good 5’-10” and probably in her late twenties, maybe early thrities. She had a killer smile, flowing, wavy dark red hair, and wore a simple black dress that showed off the kind of legs that make men drool. Well, at least this man.

Staying behind the podium was going to be necessary.

At the appointed time, the convention organizer welcomed the crowd and introduced the panel.

We began the discussion addressing a topic that required in-depth answers and discussion within the panel. Though I had the prerogative of jumping in at any time, the idea was to allow my three colleagues to take the lead. Keeping an eye on the time and watching the crowd for questions would be my focus.

Oh, and trying to keep my eyes off the front row. Good luck.

All went well early on. Questions from the attendees kept the discussion on target and engaging. I got lost in the task at hand until about 20 minutes in.

My gaze dropped to the front row. As it did, Deborah bent forward to retrieve something from her briefcase. I got an eyeful of her cleavage and more as she stayed right there in search of whatever it was she needed. When she straightened back up, her eyes caught mine and offered a look that told me her move had absolutely nothing to do with anything in her briefcase.

“Stay behind the damn podium,” I thought to myself. Fortunately, I’d not missed a cue with the panel and jumped right in at the appropriate time with another topic.

When time came for audience questions, the redhead on the front row raised her hand, stood, and introduced herself as Shelly and noted her affiliation. Good heavens. She and Deborah worked for the same company. Lucky bastards.

At some point in the conversation, the night before Deborah had mentioned she had another colleague arriving for the conference, but there was no mention nor indication that her workmate was a drop-dead knockout.

Shelly finished her question and took her seat. In the process of sitting, she clearly slid the hem of her dress a little higher revealing creamy, toned thighs. The guy sitting two seats down from her couldn’t help but stare.

I quickly turned my eyes back to the panel and called on one of the guys to address the question. He wasn’t the initial best choice as he had been mesmerized by Shelly, too. But he recovered in seconds to offer a complete and thorough answer.

Deborah sat there with what certainly appeared to be a knowing smile.

Damn, they had this planned.

Whether Deborah had her display planned wasn’t a question; Shelly’s display was becoming more suspect.

At 9:20 we wrapped up our discussion. With a 10-minute break before the next session, a search for more coffee ensued, along with a search for Deborah. She needed admonishment -- mock as it might be -- for that little stunt.

Coffee was readily available, but Deborah was nowhere to be seen. So I engaged in the usual chatter with colleagues until time for the next session approached.

Walking through the doors back into the ballroom I heard a male voice call my name.

“Hey, Derrick! I want you to meet someone.”

It was Dan, who I’d known since early in my career. Standing beside him with extended hands of greeting were Deborah and Shelly.

“These ladies are with ABC Sourcing (not the real company name). Their company has been great partners with us for a couple of years and I thought they might be good partners for your group.”

Without missing a beat, Deborah introduced herself as if it were our first time meeting. Shelly introduced herself as Deborah’s “partner in crime” with a little giggle.

“I will leave you all to get to know one another,” Dan said as he excused himself to return to his seat.

Deborah, Shelly, and I slipped back out into the almost-empty hallway as the next session began.

It was awkward. I didn’t know what Shelly knew, if anything. But she broke the ice when she touched my arm and offered, “Relax. I saw you leaving Deb’s room this morning.”

Ok, that brought relief.

“Derrick, we have client presentations all day, but we’d love it if you could join us for dinner,” Deborah said. “It will be just the three of us. I made reservations hoping you would.”

“I’d be delighted.”

She looked around, gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and said, “See you at 7:30.” And they were gone.

OK. A meal with two beautiful ladies. Could we move the clock forward, please?

As is the case when you’re looking forward to something, time moved at a snail’s pace. Finally, I had to just stop looking and focus on the speakers. The rest of the morning and all afternoon dragged on. By happy hour the need for a good bourbon had become clear. Have a couple drinks, go change into khakis and a blazer, then head to dinner.

At the appointed time, I entered the high-end restaurant. “Reservations, sir?” the well-dressed gentleman at the door asked.

“I’m meeting two ladies.”

“Ah, that would be Miss Deborah and Miss Shelly?”

“That’s correct.”

“Follow me, sir. We have a private room for you and the ladies are already here. My name is Paul. It is our pleasure to have you dine with us this evening.”

Paul opened the door to the small, private room. Deborah and Shelly both stood to greet me as Paul politely excused himself.

“Welcome!” Shelly was closest to me. Her greeting came with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, though it seemed much closer to the lips than is customary.

“I’m glad you could join us,” Deborah said as she kissed me softly. “I took the liberty of ordering a couple of bottles of a nice cabernet.”

Both the ladies already had wine. Our waiter appeared -- I don’t know from where -- and poured my glass, then disappeared as stealthily as he arrived.

I halfway expected dinner to be at least a little business. Instead, the conversation touched on everything from the food (which was exquisite) to travel to movies to music. It flowed effortlessly.

Two hours later, the bottles and glasses were empty, the table cleared and the tab paid.

“Join us for a nightcap, Derrick?” It was Shelly who asked.

“Yes, please join us,” Deborah chimed in.

I figured we’d be going to the bar or the patio.

“Go get comfortable,” Deborah said with a wink. “We’ll have drinks -- bourbon for you, correct? -- delivered to my suite.”

How could I refuse?

Twenty minutes later and back in jeans and a t-shirt, I knocked on the door of #401.

The door opened. Shelly stood there in a tight yellow tank top and black panties. “Come in!” she exclaimed as she turned and strode away.

Check that; thong, not panties. Deborah said, "Get comfortable." and Shelly certainly did.

Shelly was slightly curvier than her business dress suggested. Beautifully curved hips framed her round, firm butt. Her breasts strained at the thin tank top fabric, suggesting they were perfectly proportioned to her body.

“Drinks should be here any minute,” I heard Deborah note from her side of the suite. “I’ll be right out.”

Moments later drinks arrived. The waiter offered to bring the drinks in, but I handed him a twenty, took the tray and thanked him for the prompt service. He could see Shelly over my shoulder.

“My pleasure sir,” he said with a wink.

Shelly got the wine, I took the bourbon and set the tray on the coffee table.

“What kind of music would you like?” Shelly asked.

“Anything but opera or rap.”

“Hmmm…” Shelly pondered as she rolled through the music channels. “How about a little jazz? Won’t interrupt the conversation.”

“Perfect.”

Shelly settled into the corner of the L-shaped sectional, stretching out her long legs.

“Come sit.” She motioned to the cushion right beside her. 

Just then Deborah entered the room.

Yep, these two took ‘comfortable’ very seriously. She wore a white, short satin robe that barely covered her, top or bottom. The sash was loosely looped at the waist, allowing her breasts to sway slightly with every step and the hem of the robe to open with each step.

Nude underneath? I couldn’t tell whether panties were present or not. A bra certainly wasn’t.

Deborah took her drink in her right hand, wrapped her left around my waist, and stretched up to kiss me deeply. 

“Get a room, you two!” Shelly exclaimed. Damn her. We both broke into a laugh.

“I have a room!” Deborah shot back. “And you’re in it!”

With a quick pout, Shelly asked, “I should leave?”

“You know better,” Deborah responded. She took me by the hand and led me to the sofa.

“I think this young lady invited you to have a seat, sir.”

Shelly patted the cushion again.

Damn if I had a clue what was happening. But damn if I wasn’t intrigued.

I took the offered place on the sofa and Deborah settled in against me, head on my shoulder, drawing her legs up as she turned her body to mine.

I got the ‘panties, or no panties/’ question answered. That would be a ‘no.’

“What a day,” she sighed.

“Sales success?” I asked.

“You never know,” Shelly chimed in. “We always have to spend the next couple of weeks following up.”

Deborah shifted multiple times over the next few minutes as we enjoyed our drinks, made small talk and relaxed. 

“You OK?” I asked when she moved and stretched her back.

“Standing and walking all day in heels sucks.”

“Yeah, heels kill me, too,” I responded with as much sympathy as I could muster.

She sat up, leaned back and smacked me on the chest.

“Ass! Just for that, you owe me a massage!”

“Oh damn. Really? Do I have to?” I’m not a good whiner, but I gave it a shot.

“Yes you do. Finish that (pointing at my drink) and come with me.”

I knocked back the last bit of my drink and looked over at Shelly. If she wasn’t asleep, she was just a breath away.

“She’ll be fine. She’s just tired.”

I followed Deborah to the personal side of the suite. Approaching the bed, she unlooped the sash on her robe and let it fall off her shoulders. She climbed up on the king-size bed so I got a  full view of her ass, then settled onto the comforter.

“Any place I should concentrate on?” I asked as I approached the bed.

“Mmmm, you’ll know when you get there.”

Toes and feet came first. Each toe got individual attention before the feet took center stage. My thumbs worked the insteps firmly, bringing moans from Deborah’s lips.

Calves were next, then the thighs. Purposeful massaging of her firm thighs brought more moans. She spread her legs slightly to give me better access to her inner thighs.

Positioning my left hand on the outside of her left thigh and my right hand on the inside, I lightly dug my fingers into her warm flesh, leaned in, and pushed upward.

“Ohhh... Again, please.”

I repeated. Again. Her legs spread wider allowing just enough light to make it clear she was aroused. Her swollen lips glistened, though I’d yet to touch her pussy.

I switched sides of the bed and worked her right leg in the same manner. Her reactions were the same.

I moved my hand on the inside of her thigh a little higher with each stroke until my thumb grazed her lips. Firmer and farther each time, I finally had my thumb deep inside her.

“Fucckk,” she groaned as I pressed deeper. She lifted her hips and rolled them slightly, gently fucking back against my hand.

“You’re going to make me cum, Derrick,” she said softly.

“Want me to stop?”

“Nooo. Please don’t.”

I didn’t change the rhythm, but did start brushing her clit with each plunge of my thumb. That was all it took.

She bucked a little, clamped her thighs together around my hand, and let waves of orgasm rolled through her.

Deborah relaxed her body and her grip around my hand.

“Do my back now?” she finally asked.

I started to straddle her thighs when she looked around and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to massage your back. I do better if I can straddle your thighs and hips.” That was the truth.

“That’s fine, but you have to get as comfortable as I am. Get out of those clothes.”

Deborah watched as I slid off the bed, peeled off my t-shirt, then pushed my jeans down and allowed my cock to spring free. “I see you are enjoying this as much as I am.”

“How could I not?” I asked as I rejoined her on the bed.

“She reached down and stroked me a couple of times. “Don’t forget my back massage.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Straddling her thighs I leaned forward and began deeply massaging her shoulders and neck. It was no accident that my cock pressed down deep in the cleft of her ass cheeks. But my hips stayed still for now.

She moaned as my hands worked down her back, down her spine. Fingers worked deep into the flesh of her hips, then her ass.

Deborah lifted her ass slightly when my focus was there. It dropped, then rose again. Dropped then rose again. She whimpered -- maybe involuntarily -- when my hands again traveled up her back.

Leaning forward again I gave her a deep tissue massage from her lower back to her shoulders. With the length of my erection nestled back between her cheeks, her moans became louder and her hips began to rise again.

She lifted and turned her head. I saw her smile.

“Hey you,” she whispered.

I knew she wasn’t talking to me. I traced her gaze to slightly behind me and to my right.

She was talking to Shelly.

Her young colleague had entered the room and was standing against the wall. Her legs were spread shoulder width. Her right hand was inside the front of her thong. She had shed her tank top and her left hand cupped her left breast.

“Should I leave?” Shelly asked, almost apologetically. Her hands did not stop their work.

“Derrick?” Deborah asked. “Should she leave?”

She paused. “Or should she join us?”

“Join us,” was all I could muster as I continued to massage Deborah. I’m pretty sure my cock grew a little more when she ‘thanks’ to me with a clench of her cheeks around me.

Almost shyly, Shelly walked around the foot of the bed and climbed up on her knees, pulling her thong off in the process. She stayed on her knees, leaned back against the headboard and spread wide, displaying her smooth pussy.

Deborah had turned her head to watch Shelly.

“Want something besides your fingers?” she asked. Without waiting for an answer she added, “Look inside the table drawer.”

Shelly leaned over, reached inside, and came out with a thick purple vibrator. She examined it for a moment, found the switch, and giggled when it came to life. She pushed another button that changed the intensity of the vibration. Another push ramped up the vibrations again.

Shelly rolled through the variations and settled on a medium setting.

She leaned back, spread her knees wide, pushed her hips out so she could watch, then eased the vibrator down against her extended clit.

She squealed a tiny squeal. Deborah moaned as I pressed my cock down between her thighs so the engorged head slid across her slick lips.

“You’re teasing me,” Deborah moaned.

“But I have to finish your massage.”

“My back is good. My pussy needs…”

Before she could finish, I slid my hips back and plunged into her.

“Ohhh fffuckkk.” She pushed her ass up hard to take me completely.

Deborah’s arms stretched out straight and pushed against the headboard to give her leverage as she pushed back against every stroke.

I looked over at Shelly. Her eyes were glued to my cock and Deborah’s pussy. She’d gone from the vibrator on her clit to pumping her own pussy with the purple shaft.

“Fuck...her...Derrick,” she implored breathlessly.

Those words pushed her colleague over the edge. Deborah came again, milking my cock with each orgasmic ripple.

Shelly watched intently. When Deborah came, she pushed the vibrator harder and deeper in her own pussy. In moments she came, too, leaning over and sprawling out on the bed, then curling uptight and her long body shuddered and shook.

I continued a steady thrust into Deborah as she watched Shelly cum.

“Shelly,” Deborah said softly as her friend calmed.

Shelly rolled over.

“Watch his cock fuck me.” This wasn’t the same Deborah as the night before. She was bolder. Even more open. Completely free.

Shelly moved closer and did as she was told. Moments later she moved up on her knees and kissed me deeply. She watched the sex for another moment before she changed positions again and lay beside Deborah.

“Can I watch him cum in your mouth, Deb?” The mere suggestion almost made me cum. It did make Deborah cum yet again.

Shelly waited patiently for an answer.

When she was able again, the older of the two nodded yes.

Shelly smiled.

Deborah eased her body up the bed. I was left on my knees with a throbbing, glistening erection.

“Lay down. It’s your turn.” Deborah kissed me and pushed me flat on the bed. She slid up between my legs and devoured me. Shelly gasped.

Deborah’s head rose and looked up at me. “Tell me when you’re about to cum.”

Shelly lay down to watch, as if to learn the technique. And damn, she was in the right class.

Deborah stroked expertly with fingers laced together and just her wrists moving. On upward strokes, she licked the pre-cum that emerged every time. Her mouth opened wide to take me on every downstroke.

Shelly was mesmerized. She dipped her fingers back between her swollen lips as she watched every movement her mentor made.

God, I was getting close.

“See how his head is expanding?” Deborah asked Shelly. Her student only nodded and moaned. “He’s sooo close.” She was speaking to Shelly, but she was watching me every reaction to her every touch.

“Make him cum, Deb.” Shelly almost pleaded.

Deborah’s eyes lock to mine. Both her hands left my turgid cock and gripped my balls as she swallowed me again. 

Fucckk…

Her head stayed down. Her throat milked me. That was all it took.

My hips rose and I released. Again and again, that beautiful mouth took everything I had to offer.

As soon as she’d sucked the last drop from me, Deborah lifted her head and swallowed.

“Taste us,” she softly commanded as she pulled Shelly’s face to hers.

She locked in a kiss that triggered another orgasm in Shelly.

-------------

Deborah and Shelly kissed me on the cheek the next morning as they headed out to another client's breakfast.

Returning to my room, I took my time and made it down to the convention floor for the second session. I didn’t see either Deborah or Shelly for the rest of the day, but figured they were working. They weren’t at the reception that night either.

Odd.

When I got back to my room, an envelope lay on the floor just inside the door.

Derrick,

Thank you for a convention to remember.

Deborah & Shelly

They were gone. I couldn’t be sad, though. It was, indeed, a convention to remember. There hadn’t been one remotely close before. There hasn’t been one since.