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From: zeist@aol.com (Zeist)
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Subject: Trade Show (M/Fspectre) by Wolf Whistle
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 You know the drill -if you are not at least 40" tall, you may not ride...
And hey, these things take TIME to write. Take a moment to tell me whatcha
think. That being, said...

	Another long working weekend. Another 3 days of schmoozing and selling and
pretending I actually cared. It wasn't the actual trade shows that bothered me,
hell, I got time-and-a-half for it. It was complete and total lack of "real"
people to talk to. After the floor closed, like Swiss clockwork, you would run
into the same people you just had to "Yes sir" and "yes ma'am or miss or Mrs."
to death just so they'd take your business card, at the bar and they'd still
want to "talk shop" in between a few more personal questions, also unswervingly
consisting of: "Are you married? (and without getting an answer) where's your
wife?, oh, any kids, well..."
	It was tedium defined. You would think, having been to the dentist, and seeing
some of the highly attractive young ladies employed as receptionists,
assistants, dental hygienists, and dentists themselves, that I would at least
have seen some attractive women at these lame-o dental conventions. NOPE. Seems
the doctors got together and decided to give them the weekend off and they trot
out themselves to "ooh-and-ahh" and all the new-and-improved dental gizmos.
	There is the occasional eye candy, made all the more pleasing by the virtual
absence of other women to contrast with. Oh, dammit, here comes Bill...'Hey
Bill, what's doin'? I asked, not caring, but being forced to pretend to. He
started off into some story or another as I sucked down another beer and
feigned interest. He called his wife over and I was shocked to see that she was
very attractive and hell, that she was here at all! I stood and shook her small
hand as she introduced herself and sat next to us while Bill babbled. She
certainly perked up the evening, but I knew that at the end of it, I would be
headed back to that stagnant room and, most likely, thinking of Bill's wife as
I "took care of business". I said my goodnights, stole a kiss from his wife,
and made my way through the lobby. I saw the busboys moving a sofa about and
clamoring about some annual honorarium they had to set up.
	I walked to the elevator and called 'hold the door' as it was closing, and if
I had to carry on another blithe conversation about teeth or hear another
stupid-ass joke I was going to choke the person affronting me. A small,
red-fingernailed  hand pushed through the closing doors and allowed me
entrance. Almost unconsciously, I said 'Thank you' and assumed the "elevator
position" of facing front and ignoring that there's another person in the car.
I could not ignore her perfume, however. It wafted through the car, spurring on
desires which were already there. It was a scent I had not known before, and I
thought that maybe this was an occasion to strike up a conversation. I turned
around and politely asked what perfume it was that she was wearing. 'None' she
replied, opening her thin-but-lush lips into a smile that could melt butter. I
egged her on, determined, yet respectful of her womanhood, to pry the secret
from her.
	I stepped back, standing next to her now, breathing in the aroma that was
growing more and more enticing as the elevator rose. Or did it? I could not
tell if the car was moving, I could not tell if life was moving. I was so
entranced in this moment that seemed to encapsulate my entire universe. I
noticed myself getting a bit light headed, but attributed it to the 11-hour
workday that I had just put in, as well as the 2 or 3 beers on top of it. I
still pressed my companion, now simply obsessed with speaking with her, finding
her totally captivating. I looked at her - a young woman, maybe early 30's at
most. She had brown-with-red-highlights locks that flowed down her shoulders to
the middle of her back, straight at the top, but ending in small curls. Her
eyes were brown as well, with speckles of both green and grey interspersed. Her
skin was pure, but not pale. She stood pretty tall, about 5'8", and sported a
smaller but ample chest. I did not notice it at the time, but in retrospect,
she was pretty much everything I had asked of the gods of love since I was 15.
	I asked her name. 'Susan' was her reply. It seemed to pour from her lips, as
if I could see the words rolling out. I watched her lips move and dreamt of how
they would taste, thought of what I wanted those lips to do. I again asked her
to tell what her perfume was, and she, true to form, adamantly refused. She
flippantly tossed her hair aside, exposing a lean and curvaceous neck, and as I
followed her sinewy trail I noticed the reaction my own body was having...
	I took her cue and leaned in to her, pressing my lips against her delicious
neck and breathing deep her aroma, that lightheadedness overtaking me once
again. 'Susan, if you aren't wearing any perfume, I want to introduce you to a
chemist friend of mine so he can bottle you' I exhaled into her neck in my best
seduction voice. 'Hmm' she callously retorted 'do you think me so common?' 'No,
no, no, not at all, it's just...' stuttering, stammering, I try to respond and
not lose the moment. 'Just shut up dickhead" I tell myself and try to change
the subject. The bell rang for the door to open. Apparently, the car *had* been
moving. The doors slid open to reveal an older couple, dressed for an evening
out. The gentleman nodded to me and warbled something like "good evening" and I
in kind, responded. I found it strange that nothing was said directly to Susan,
he seemed like such a "proper" man. I attributed it to the fact that perhaps
the "good evening was for both of us, or, more likely, for Susan herself and I
had jumped the gun in answering. Either way, they went two floors and again
left us alone.
	'What a stuffed shirt' laughed Susan before the door even closed. I laughed as
well, caught off guard by her off-color remark. The couple had to have heard it
also, but gave no indication of it. I turned to face her and the by now
familiar time warp had engulfed me a second time. Her eyes sparkled, her skin
radiated "welcome". I stepped to her and embraced her, pulling her close and
getting my first taste of her lips. A different type of disturbance overtook me
now, a raging passion that coursed through me like cheap Mexican food. My hands
roamed her back, finding her warm and inviting. She kissed me deep and
forcefully, almost unexpectedly so. Her tongue was warm and wicked, sliding
over and around mine in just that way I loved, but rarely found in a woman.
	Our breathing hastened, our bloods raced. Hands groped and probed, ever
searching for a new arena to explore. I found her tight little ass and gave a
healthy squeeze, causing her to exhale directly into me, sharing her essence.
'What room are you in?' she breathed impatiently, and I answered equally
breathlessly '601' taking just a momentary break from kissing her neck to do
so. I had never tasted so intoxicating a woman, her flesh was like candy, as
succulent as her aroma was. Again the bell rang. We left the car and proceeded
to my room, "visions of sugarplums dancing in my head". I opened the door and
flicked on the light. She, just as quickly, turned it back off.
	I felt her satin lips touch me again and my pulse soared. Her nimble fingers
ripped my shirt, buttons flying to all corners as her mouth traveled south on
my skin, kissing my nipples, gently biting my stomach and dipping into my belly
button. I exhaled in anticipatory excitation as her lips surrounded the outline
of my engorged cock, playfully teasing me through the thin material of the
dress slacks. I heard my zipper descending, felt a warm hand embracing me and
tugging me out to feel the cool air of the night. It did not last long,
however, as I was quickly inserted into her hot mouth, every bit as exciting to
my cock as it was to my lips. The warmth flowed over me, my head getting dizzy
as she swallowed all of me deep into her soft, seemingly bottomless throat.
	My knees began to weaken as she persisted in her oral pleasures. I moaned her
name aloud, but I did not hear anything else in the room besides the tell-tale
sounds of her cocksucking. I grabbed the back of her head, burying my fingers
deep into her full, soft hair as she eagerly fed herself with my penis. I felt
her hands reach up my body to my lips and I sucked her digits as she worked me
over. Without a word, she stood, kissing me with the taste of my cock still
upon her lips. She took my hand and we floated over to the bed. She lied back
upon it, stretching her form across it. I watched in sheer adoration as the dim
light creeping through the shades made her seem almost...transparent. One hand
motioned for me to come closer as the other slid up her thigh and pulled her
skirt aside.
	I kissed her again, marveling at the silky softness of her lips. I had to
imagine that had they been so entrancing, what was waiting for me to discover
down below? I suckled her neck softly as she reclined, shimmying up the bed to
allow better access to her. Her breasts were supple and perfect. Nipple so
taught that they almost stung my tongue as they entered my mouth. I felt her
body rise and her breathing start to get raspy as I molested her breasts with
my mouth, sucking and lapping, tugging her nipples with my teeth. I felt her
hand touch mine and guide it, slowly, deliberately to her sweet spot, the place
where I so very desperately wanted to go. I heard a slight whimper as she
released my hand to explore on its own, feeling her tender skin, damp from her
arousal. The downy hair seemed to tickle me back as I ran through it, feeling
the warm satin of her lips opening to accept my probing fingers. Slipping into
her, her hot walls closed upon my digit, fighting me as I pushed deeper,
feeling each sweet inch of her pussy quiver and slicken. My mouth salivated
profusely and my cock grew harder than ever I can recall as I felt her pussy
swallow my finger, mostly out of sheer jealousy I can assume.
	I worked my mouth down her hot skin, needing to join my hand in its'
manipulations. I dipped into her belly button as well, faux-fucking her
faux-pussy with my tongue. My finger was working slowly but regularly in and
out of her, I could feel her orgasm rising, her body like a vice on my finger,
as my tongue met her clit and gingerly took it into my mouth. There are times
when words cannot describe a sensation or and experience. Or, if they do exist,
I'll be damned if I know 'em. All I can truly say is that never before or since
has a flavor so enraptured me as the taste sensation of Susan's cunt on my
lips. Like a man possessed I lapped at her, drove my tongue deep into her,
wanting, needing to get all of her around me, all of me inside her. My teeth
found her clit once again and gently I bit down as my fingers replaced my
tongue inside of her. I felt a shiver rush over me, around me, *through* me as
she clamped down on me once again with her satin walls and I felt her body
tense underneath my mouth. Her orgasm washed over me, filled me to the point of
unearthly pleasure, to the point of my own orgasm. I felt my balls tighten and
explode as we shared our passions, her flowing onto my willing face, mine
finding its way onto the comforter.
	As I was licking up the remnants of Susan's orgasm, I again remarked that
'Baby, *this* is what we should bottle about you'. She merely moaned slightly
and I felt her hands grab my head. Forcing me to relinquish my attention from
her pussy, I heard her speak for the first time since the elevator: 'Fuck me'
was all she said, and I didn't see her face as she said it -- it was more like
I saw her eyes, electric in the dark like those of a cat, and heard her voice
in my head. Hey, who am I to argue, right? I knelt between her legs, my cock
miraculously still hard as stone. 'Shit' I thought to myself 'I'd better marry
this woman' as I positioned my head at the entrance to her, body and soul.
	 I religiously entered her, feeling the magic warmth envelope my cock. Once
again, words cannot do justice to the experience, and once again, I have not
since known anything to be so totally satisfying, so completely engrossing a
sensation as the feeling of burying my cock deep into Susan's cunt. She did not
moan, she did not breathe deep, she did not call my name (she never even asked
my name). I just felt her body react in that
extremely-tense-yet-simultaneously-relaxed fashion that happens when you are
making love. I felt her squirm and work me all the way inside her, I felt
myself get weal and yet strengthened as I began to withdraw, the wonder of the
passion as good as the physical sensation. She never cried for more, never told
me if it felt good, she let her body tell me what she was feeling. Her cunt
grabbed at my cock, her hands reached to my torso as I drove myself deeper and
harder into her wondrous, wet, silky pussy, never wanting to stop fucking her,
and yet almost wishing I had never started, knowing it had to end at some
point. Again I felt the surge of expulsion rise through me and as I could hold
back no longer, I called out her name while I shot my cum inside of her,
canon-blast after canon-blast. I bent to kiss her, and she kissed me back, her
lips weakened now, as tender now as they were adventurous before. I lie next to
her, my hand upon her hip and we slept, lovers in our private haven.
	I awoke the next morning, alone. I looked about the room, no note, no panties,
no trace of the most incredible woman I had even met. Despondent, I showered
and dressed, hoping that I could perhaps catch her in the lobby or at the
complimentary buffet breakfast. Walking through the hotel with a
cat-that-ate-the canary smile, I was on top of the world. I even took the
stairs instead of the elevator. It wasn't until I got to the lobby that my legs
gave out. I had found Susan, indeed. Seems *she* was the one they were setting
up the memorial for, having been the Grande Dame of the hotel when it was
founded, and having been found dead in room 701, murdered by her jealous
husband for an affair conducted in that very room...

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