{"id":39719,"date":"2022-11-08T07:50:45","date_gmt":"2022-11-08T06:50:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.lelo.com\/blog\/?p=39719"},"modified":"2026-02-14T20:04:07","modified_gmt":"2026-02-14T19:04:07","slug":"prodding-ms-grumpy-an-erotic-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.lelo.com\/blog\/prodding-ms-grumpy-an-erotic-story\/","title":{"rendered":"Prodding Ms. Grumpy – An Erotic Story"},"content":{"rendered":"

The assumption is employees hook up or, at least, get naughty at Christmas parties. But that isn\u2019t the case in the real business world. Office parties are one evening with a few drinks. Then the employees go home alone. The real hookups happen where there are fewer eyes and longer nights. They happen at business conferences.<\/span><\/p>\n

Marjorie worked for EDS Consulting and her company\u2019s booth was directly across from my company\u2019s display exhibit. Her company had a simple logo. The text was blue and shifted forward as if in a race.<\/span><\/p>\n

The first morning, I watched Marjorie tap on her phone as she sat beneath the large lighted EDS logo. Some people walked by, but she didn\u2019t pay attention.<\/span><\/p>\n

On the other side of the aisle, I tried to work the passersby. I greeted them, told a few jokes, and complimented outfits. Make note that these weren\u2019t ComiCon or Anime Expo goers dressed in outlandish outfits. This conference\u2019s attendees wore dark business suits, dull neckties, and soft-soled wing-tips. All that to say, my compliments were rare and exaggerations of fashion sense. Business development, however, is about aggrandizement and smiles.<\/span><\/p>\n

I walked to the EDS Consulting booth. Marjorie didn\u2019t acknowledge me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI want some service,\u201d I said and knocked on the tabletop.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her eyes rolled up sarcastically. \u201cGo away.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhoa, Marj, do you hate conferences?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Her eyes didn\u2019t leave her phone. \u201cAm I not obvious enough?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis conference can\u2019t be that bad. We\u2019re out of the office. I get tired of sitting at the same desk all week. There\u2019s a potted spider plant in my office window that has never grown. That says something about office life. Corporate incarceration.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t respond.<\/span><\/p>\n

I tried to weasel some conversation out of her. \u201cAre you staying in this hotel?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

When she remained silent, I took it as an obvious clue: stop talking. But I also took it as a chance to prod and provoke her\u2014playfully. I didn\u2019t want a sulking woman so close to me. She would ruin the atmosphere, and I was there to have a good time. Unfortunately, I couldn\u2019t pick up and take my exhibit elsewhere, like a little kid with his toy. So I let her be grumpy.<\/span><\/p>\n

I shook hands with two friendly men strolling through the aisles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got full gift bags. Any hints on where to uncover the expo\u2019s treasures?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAbout two rows over is a wheel of fortune,\u201d one of them said. \u201cI won two tickets to see Harry Manilow live.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean Barry.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, it\u2019s Harry.\u201d He pulled out the tickets to prove it. \u201cHe sings Barry\u2019s songs.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDo you like Manilow?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure, but\u2014\u201d he laughed, \u201cI like free tickets even more.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOne of Barry\u2019s songs is Copacabana. Can you sing it?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d He brushed off the notion.<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked at the other guy.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t even.\u201d He backed up, hands held high.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf you sing a few lines, I\u2019ll donate to the Harry Manilow concert tickets. Yeah, I\u2019ll give a hundred dollars. Cash. Right now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow much of the song?\u201d the first guy asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

I had intrigued him, and now was my first attempt to prod Marjorie.<\/span><\/p>\n

I leaned forward and said softly, \u201cJust sing it toward EDS Consulting. A few lines, until she looks up.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA hundred dollars, right? No tricks?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnother fifty bucks for making her smile.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDeal,\u201d he said. He cleared his throat and pivoted to EDS.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I heard, \u201c<\/span>Her name was Lola! She was a showgirl!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

By the time he got to \u201cwith yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there,\u201d he was already acting out the words.<\/span><\/p>\n

The other guy turned to me. \u201cShe still hasn\u2019t cracked a grin. What a crab.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFifty bucks down the drain.\u201d I shrugged.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I heard, \u201cAt the Copa, Copacabana!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

And more people joined in. \u201cHottest spot north of Havana! Music and passion were always the fashion.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

In no time, it was like a conference flash mob. After the chorus, the singers dispersed, laughing.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe smiled! It was sarcastic but a smile,\u201d the lead singer said. His friend confirmed it. \u201cShe was hard to break, but I did it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I pulled out the hundred and fifty from my billfold.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDeal\u2019s a deal.\u201d I slapped the bills into his hand. \u201cAnd thanks.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He strode off glad to be richer.<\/span><\/p>\n

When the two guys left, Marjorie was standing. She was pissed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d she demanded.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWe want to have fun. I\u2019m not here to sulk,\u201d I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m here to work.\u201d She sharpened her glare. \u201cThis is not a party.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, it\u2019s not a party, exactly. But it is a good time on the company\u2019s dime.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She again brushed off my positive perspective on conferences. She sat under the EDS and toyed with her phone, so I prodded one more time, a little harder.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour attitude is giving EDS a bad name.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd your antics are doing the same for your company. A Copacabana flash mob? Leave me the hell alone.\u201d Suddenly, she stood and stormed off.<\/span><\/p>\n

Whoops. I may have gone too far. But testing dark waters and teasing dark women can lead to lost toes.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The EDS booth was empty. She was absent for a while, likely getting food and cooling down her anger. I continued to mix and mingle with the passersby. This conference was for the company, so I felt a duty to do my job\u2014or something similar to it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Marjorie came back an hour later. From my distance, she seemed to have calmed. She continued to toy with her phone, head down, ignoring the potential contacts and customers.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMarj, I want to apologize for the flash mob. I shouldn\u2019t have done that. I should leave you alone.\u201d I put on a sad, puppy-dog face.<\/span><\/p>\n

She only shook her head. She still was frustrated. What could I do?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cEDS is Electronics Defense Systems Consulting. An IT firm?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSystems engineering for military vehicles\u2014Army and Air Force,\u201d she mumbled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you giving away?\u201d I asked her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStress balls and pens.\u201d She growled out the words.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI could use a stress ball. Can I get one?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She grabbed a ball from the table and fast-balled it over. I didn\u2019t catch it. Bending over to reach it, a second ball hit me in the head. I stood.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhoa! Wait a minute. No need to get mean.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOur balls come in pairs. And I\u2019ll send a pen over too. I think you\u2019ll like the set. It suits you fine.\u201d A pen poked my side.<\/span><\/p>\n

After gathering the two balls and the pen, I lifted our swag.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWant an LED lantern? It\u2019s on me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cKeep it closed so I don\u2019t see you. You may be better in the dark.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I held up the lantern but didn\u2019t open it. \u201cAt least, I dance better in the dark.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPlease do not ruin Bruce Springsteen with your singing or, god please, a flash mob!\u201d Her sharp eyes gave fair warning.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t remember the words, so you\u2019re safe.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGood.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI do remember his dance from the MTV video. You fling your arms this way and that way.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Stop! You\u2019re ruining the song. I nearly hate Bruce all ready.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll stop if we can dance after dark.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGive me a lantern and stop dancing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFine.\u201d I set a lantern on her table.<\/span><\/p>\n

I knew the last bit was too much. I had turned into a big brother teasing his younger sister. I needed to straighten up and fly right. No more harassment. Not even talking.<\/span><\/p>\n

I strolled the exhibits. Chatty marketers and vendors drew in potential customers to spread word of their companies. I passed by a military-green automated vehicle with eight wheels and some huge guns. I didn\u2019t win anything on the wheel of fortune, so I wouldn\u2019t be seeing Harry Manilow live. I snacked on a hot dog, a bag of Lays and a lot of candy from the exhibitors\u2019 bowls. When I returned, Marjorie was gone. I didn\u2019t see her for the rest of the day at the conference. The EDS exhibit remained empty. About six, the lights dimmed and vendors and visitors had exited the floor.<\/span><\/p>\n

The first night, I took out a group of interested customers to a steakhouse for top-of-the-line beef and beers. Afterward I thought about the hotel room, but, despite the myriad of channels, I hate watching TV while sitting in the middle of a hotel bed or even on the roughly upholstered lounge chair and ottoman.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0At around 10, I had warmed a seat at the bar in the hotel lobby. The lobby was open-air and rectangular. Guests could walk out of their room and overlook the whole place. They could be like guards, watching a prison yard decorated beautifully with large green plants, twisting walkways and chandeliers.<\/span><\/p>\n

I sipped on a mix of ginger beer and rum with a squeeze of lime. It made my face scrunch like a curmudgeon. A great feeling.<\/span><\/p>\n

Of course, as conference life happens, Marjorie arrived. She opted for the other side of the bar. It was safer for me. I wouldn\u2019t get a hard drink in my face.<\/span><\/p>\n

Marjorie wore a loose, ruffled neck blouse. Her shoulders were bare, lovely and petite. I liked seeing her in more casual clothing than earlier today. The stuffiness of our business world kept much of her lovely body hidden, or undisclosed. Maybe redacted, if you want to get legal.<\/span><\/p>\n

I again wanted to prod, to flirt, to have fun, and the alcohol was urging me on. However, she first would need to show me some interest in teasing and playing. If she had thrown a pen and two balls from her exhibit, then that drink in my face at the bar would not be far-fetched. It\u2019d feel worse too.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sitting there, I ordered another dark, tiki drink. I sipped, avoiding the woman. Instead I chummed with the bartender, talking about football games.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, they have been doing bad. What are they, like, on a four-game losing streak,\u201d I told the bartender. \u201cBut the best way to handle a losing season is alcohol. Yep, a lot of beer, whiskey, vodka. Rum and wine\u2014not so much. A losing season needs the hard stuff.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The bartender agreed. \u201cI\u2019ve learned how the losers survive\u2014being one of them many times. The winners, they drink sportier drinks, fruity cocktails, tequila and lemonade. Maybe a few jalapenos thrown in.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I asked what an angry conference attendee drinks. He must have read my mind.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s having a vodka cranberry.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cVodka, huh. Must be a bad day. When she\u2019s done with it, put her next drink on my tab and all of them afterward. Say, it\u2019s to make up for the flash mob.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me, flash mob?\u201d The bartender leaned his forearm onto the bar as if he had misheard me. I repeated it, but he still was confused by the message.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019ll understand,\u201d I reassured.<\/span><\/p>\n

Soon, her glass was nearly dry, so I decided to head upstairs to my room. It was a getaway: passing by when her glass was empty. I nodded to the bartender, having written a large tip on the receipt.<\/span><\/p>\n

Waiting at the elevator, I could see the bar through the large-leafed jungle plants in the open lobby. The bartender set down the new drink, and she turned back, as if looking for me. I slipped into the elevator, not waiting. An apology can be said well without words.<\/span><\/p>\n

The next morning, I was organizing my exhibit when she arrived at hers.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks,\u201d she said. It sounded like she had to puke out the words.<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t turn.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I mean you, Preston. Thanks for last night.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked back slowly. \u201cLast night?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFor the drinks.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She wore a blue sharp-shouldered business suit, double-breasted, and slacks with the crease running down the front of her thighs. Her shoes were amazing. Or it could have been the combination of pink heels, tanned skin, and pink polished toenails.<\/span><\/p>\n

When my eyes raised up from her outfit, I explained. \u201cI felt like I needed to make up for yesterday. A few drinks may have calmed things.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She shrugged and began to arrange her exhibit.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll try to leave you alone today. I\u2019ve got a number of client meetings, so you won\u2019t see me as much.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Before I left for my first meeting, she was again toying with her phone, sitting under the EDS logo, ignoring the passersby. I just shook my head but said nothing.<\/span><\/p>\n

At mid-afternoon, I came back to see her in the same place, phone in hand. I exchanged a few items and gathered more promo materials and company capability statements. I almost spoke to Marjorie and opted against it. I didn\u2019t want to be a brother bothering his sister.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I came back, my business associate, John, was studying our table.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSomething wrong?\u201d I asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI found this. Two stress balls from EDS and a pen between them. Two more pens, parallel to each other with another pen at the 45-degree angle.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd our lantern, opened,\u201d I said. \u201cWhat do you make of it, my dear Watson?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWere you being a dick yesterday?\u201d he asked me bluntly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"lelo<\/a><\/p>\n

I laughed. \u201cThat, yes.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThen this must be one of those not-equal-to signs.\u201d John tapped his chin.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBeing a dick doesn\u2019t get the lights turned on?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOr doesn\u2019t let you see in the dark.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOr all of us here aren\u2019t dicks, just you.\u201d John shrugged.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever it means, she better not think my dick is as thin as an ink pen, or else she\u2019s got another thing \u2026 never mind.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019d recommend leaving her alone.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI haven\u2019t bothered her at all today. I\u2019ve been in meetings. Have you seen her? She sits under the EDS logo and plays on her phone.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe was there for a little bit. She\u2019s been gone for a while,\u201d John said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI have another meeting. If you see her, smile.\u201d Then I darted off.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nearly two hours later, I came back to our booth. She was there still on her phone, talking to no one. When I came back, I noticed a quick glance, but I ignored her. I was tired of Marjorie.<\/span><\/p>\n

I again chatted with the conference-goers about business and opportunities, of our company\u2019s areas of expertise, and, of course, if they were enjoying themselves these past two days. Meanwhile, I completely ignored Marjorie. And she just sat there.<\/span><\/p>\n

I noticed glances in my direction as I talked. Still I didn\u2019t acknowledge her.<\/span><\/p>\n

That night, John and I took clients to a top-rated Italian restaurant. The wine was luscious, and the Fusilli in Cartoccio hit the spot. It all tasted better when the company picked up the check.<\/span><\/p>\n

At the hotel, I opted again for the bar instead of late-night TV. John and I talked and drank, having a good time. An hour or so afterward, a certain someone walked into the bar.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s here,\u201d John said. \u201cI suggest not being a dick \u2026 for the sake of the lantern.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I waved off his comment. \u201cI\u2019m done with her. Not worth my time or effort.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Just as I turned my back to the rest of the bar, John nodded a goodbye to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then there was a tap on my shoulder.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHi.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It was Marjorie. She wore the same double-breasted business outfit, except the blazer was unbuttoned, allowing a glimpse of a scoop-neck blouse that fit tight against her chest. She had a narrow waist and the pleated slacks emphasized her small form.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMind if I take this seat?\u201d she asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t own it, so be my guest.\u201d I downed the last bit of my cocktail.<\/span><\/p>\n

My quick nod brought over the bartender.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnother one for me and, for her, a \u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA mojito with a double shot.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The bartender nodded.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRum, huh.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m having a good day. On a winning streak.\u201d She smiled as she shed her blazer and hung it on the back of her chair.<\/span><\/p>\n

I hadn\u2019t seen her smile this whole conference. Her face was gentle and soft. There was a graciousness.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re on a winning streak?\u201d I asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Someone who drinks rum is not on a losing streak, that is, based on what you said last night. So I must be on winning.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAh, that.\u201d I paused a moment. \u201cWell, I wouldn\u2019t consider that a hard-and-fast rule. If I remember correctly, last night you were on vodka.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, it was a bad day.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI gathered that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t help. With your flash mob and singing and teasing. I felt like \u2026 like \u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLike you were being prodded by an older brother?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. That\u2019s exactly it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The bartender set down our drinks. I raised my glass to hers. They clinked and the evening evolved.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI have another rule that I sort of live by,\u201d I told her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNever let an evening of drinking go to waste.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She eyed me quizzically, like she was unsure of the meaning of the statement or how to take it.<\/span><\/p>\n

I shrugged. \u201cI don\u2019t understand the meaning exactly either, but when it comes true, the reasoning behind it is obvious.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThen let me start.\u201d She drank the mojito in full and ordered another. The bartender set it on a small square napkin.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou going to follow me?\u201d she asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you going?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDown.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Now, I looked at her unsure of the meaning of the statement or how to take it. For safety\u2019s sake, I only drank all of my Old Fashioned.<\/span><\/p>\n

The dry alcohol caught in my throat and choked me. I coughed and my eyes watered. But I told the bartender, through my coughs and heaves, \u201cI\u2019ll have another.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Marjorie leaned on the bar counter. \u201cI have two maxims I live by.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd they are?\u201d I coughed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA man who cries is a pussy, and a man who can\u2019t handle his alcohol straight is a punk.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She could bite when she had to. I had only swallowed the whiskey wrong, and now I was a pussy and a punk.<\/span><\/p>\n

A few minutes later, the cough started to subside, and I dabbed a tear from the corner of my eye. \u201cAre those rules hard and fast?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI like when they\u2019re hard and fast, but many times they<\/span>\u2019re not.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI can handle myself\u2014hard and fast,\u201d I said. \u201cThis was a mishap.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She kept confusing me. Was that a message? She hated me a day ago. Now, she was playing games and flirting. All she needed to do was round up a flash mob and we\u2019d be even. Whatever the case, alcohol and indifference can make for an odd brew.<\/span><\/p>\n

I decided to play her game from yesterday. I checked my watch. \u201cLook at the time. I\u2019ve got an early day, so I\u2019m going to head to my room. Nice talking to you. Maybe I\u2019ll see you on your phone tomorrow.\u201d I told the bartender to put all the drinks on my tab, including hers, and I started out of the bar.<\/span><\/p>\n

Marjorie sat there alone. Her face showed that she was stunned.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re just leaving? Going upstairs to, what, handle yourself?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I stopped. \u201cMaybe. You wanting to help?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI have a few minutes.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

My lungs deflated hearing what she assumed<\/span> I would be doing<\/span>. And then wanting to help me?<\/span><\/p>\n

Before I could control my mental reasoning, my lust spoke.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThink you can handle me? I\u2019m not two stress balls and an ink pen.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll decide that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I walked toward the elevator, making her scramble to follow me, if she wanted something more. If she didn\u2019t follow then it wouldn\u2019t have worked out anyway.<\/span><\/p>\n

She grabbed her blazer. Rushing to me, her chest bounced sweetly, matching her short strides. I had to get calm before I gave away too much. I felt movement in my slacks. Things might be obvious soon.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t believe you were going to leave me,\u201d she said again, standing beside me at the silvery elevator doors.<\/span><\/p>\n

I pressed the button for floor 17. \u201cAt times, there isn\u2019t time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMore of your stupid lessons on life. You must have studied philosophy before business.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Watching the floor numbers decline and not at her, I said, \u201cConfucius said, man who leap off cliff jump to conclusion.\u201d And the elevator door dinged.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stepped on. She followed. <\/span>She had a sweet scent, like fun and wiliness, with a hint of cinnamon. She flung her blazer over her shoulder, hooking it with her finger.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got a way to piss me off, you know that?\u201d She pointed at me.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her eyes had a hint of fire. Not like yesterday\u2019s fire but the embers still were red. However, despite red eyes, she stood close, facing me, inches away. She was staring up, into my eyes. She was locked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow pissed are you? I thought that was your ordinary disposition.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She punched my shoulder. \u201cNo, you make me this way.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThen why are you following me? Wanting a bad night?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\"which<\/a><\/p>\n

The question caught her. It may have been too much. She hit the button for floor 16. In a moment, the door slid open. She stepped out and left me alone in a mist of her fiery cinnamon scent.<\/span><\/p>\n

The door closed and rose a floor. On floor 17, over the railing, I saw Marjorie storming toward her room. Her blazer in hand swished forward and backward in her ardent pace. I thought about yelling, but I had to work across from her tomorrow and had fewer meetings than today.<\/span><\/p>\n

I plopped down in the rough armchair next to the huge window in my room. I scanned the TV channels for a while. Nothing was on. There never is. I leaned my head back to stare at the ceiling. Marjorie was on my mind. She was one floor below. I considered a return to the bar. Instead, I untucked my dress shirt and pulled off my belt. I skipped out of my shiny, black wing-tips. Before I took off my polka dot dress socks, there was a knock at the door. <\/span>It was two in the morning.<\/span><\/p>\n

Through the peephole was a hotel attendant. I unlocked the door.<\/span> The attendant held a tray.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI have an order of chicken wings. It\u2019s a gift from another guest.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cChicken wings. That bitch.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The attendant set the tray on my desk by the TV. I gave him a five for a tip. I picked up a drumstick but dropped it onto the plate.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s wanting to play.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0I rushed into the hallway to the attendant.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat room did this food come from?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He rustled through a tab of orders. I suddenly noticed Marjorie leaning on the rail across the lobby a floor below mine. I grabbed my shoes and left the room. I rushed down the stairwell. She waited like that prison guard on the rail, watching my every step, as if I were a prisoner. When I turned the corner to her hall, she darted away. I walked to the door of her room. It was ajar, kept open by the interior metal door lock.<\/span><\/p>\n

I pushed open it. She squealed. \u201cWhat are you doing in here?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She was across the room, leaning against the window. She had covered herself with the large blazer. \u201cI\u2019ll call security. Don\u2019t test me, Preston!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI am testing you, Marj. This is your last chance to get away.\u201d I stepped into the room. My steps were large and slow, like a robber about to get his gold.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cBetter make that call,\u201d I warned. \u201cI\u2019m about to come at you hard and fast.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She dropped the blazer. My lungs deflated like earlier, and I stalled. She wore only a tiny pair of pink panties and a matching lacy bra. She had shed everything else before I arrived.<\/span><\/p>\n

She stepped to me, unclasping her bra from the back. Her breasts became freed. She had round tits, small nipples, and unexpectedly they were pierced\u2014miniature barbells. Her fingers thumbed her nipples. Then she slid her hands down her flat stomach and finally touched the band of her panties. The small V of her panties covered little. She pulled the band and let it slap against her flesh.<\/span><\/p>\n

The woman knew how to tease. She kept moving forward, a thief of her own kind, and I too started forward. It was our own sort of dual. We grabbed each other and enjoined in a harsh, ruthless kiss of lust and frustration and boiling heat and anger.<\/span><\/p>\n

I found her ass and grabbed a hunk of the flesh. My eyes opened wide when I felt her hands search and find my dick. Her hand cupped the engorgement and her palm moved upward to the tiptop. My hands slinked up her body to find her squishy tits and the barbells. But I wasn\u2019t in her room for feeling up flesh or romantic exploration.<\/span><\/p>\n

I shoved her onto the bed to her surprise. She looked at me her mouth agape. I lifted her ankles with one hand. Then I pulled those flimsy panties to her toes. Her narrow pussy was squeezed tightly between her long thighs.<\/span><\/p>\n

I undid my pants, letting them drop, along with my boxers. My cock was inches from the cunt of this bitch.<\/span><\/p>\n

She forced her legs open. The fire in her eyes was desire.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go, before I get angry again.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I entered the pussy to hear her scream. \u201cOh, shit!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I rocked in deeper and dragged out.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her fingernails grabbed by forearms and she growled, \u201cFuck me\u2014hard and fast. Don\u2019t disappoint me!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

My dick drove into her, making her back arch and face wince. And I didn\u2019t stop. All the pent-up frustration and play and her attitude over the past days urged me on.<\/span><\/p>\n

She let go of my arms and circled her clit intensely.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHarder!\u201d she yelled. She was ferocious and cruel in bed. \u201cNow! Fuck me!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

My body reacted to her demands. I double-timed the pace, smacking against her, my balls hitting her ass. I pinned her on the mattress, holding her throat. My other hand seized her tits. She obviously loved being manhandled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFuck me, boy!\u201d she growled despite my hold.<\/span><\/p>\n

I slammed even harder.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGonna finish?\u201d she taunted.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNot done yet, bitch.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I flipped her over. I nabbed a handful of hair, pulled back her head, and fucked her from behind. Immediately, she squealed and grunted. I twisted her hair to add to her pain. My body crashed into hers. Her ass had a slight jelly wiggle. Not much wiggle, but it moved nicely.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re doing it. Yes! Fuck me, don\u2019t stop.\u201d She wailed out the last words.<\/span><\/p>\n

I pulled out of her and turned her over again. In a moment, I jizzed into her face and hair. Breathing heavily, I tossed the last dribble onto her lips.<\/span><\/p>\n

I collapsed on the bed. Neither of us moved, only breathing deeply. I ended up sleeping with her. <\/span>I was too tired to make to my room. She was too tired to fight about it.<\/span><\/p>\n

At the conference booths the next day, Marjorie chatted with passersby and made EDS look better. She also warned me about a coming flash mob.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou never would,\u201d I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t think so?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s only one Copacabana.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou better beware.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Then she changed the subject. She became serious. \u201cPreston, I have a meeting with this really weird customer in a few minutes. He\u2019s always eyeing me and saying terrible things. I really hate him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d I said confused.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWould you check on me in meeting room 2 in about ten minutes? It\u2019ll make me feel better.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSure, I can help.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

About ten minutes later, I left my booth to find a nervous Marjorie.<\/span><\/p>\n

I went into the meeting room finding her alone. She was sitting at the end of a table with a black tablecloth.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019d this bad customer go?\u201d I asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s here. Sit.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I complied, sitting opposite of her.<\/span><\/p>\n

She disappeared beneath the table, and in a moment, she was undoing my pants.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMarj,\u201d I whispered in real concern, \u201cthese are only curtains, not walls. Anyone can come in here. Anyone can hear us.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShut it,\u201d I heard, followed by a warm mouth covering my dick.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA blowjob? Here and\u2014\u201d I couldn\u2019t finish. I sat up straight as she bobbed and I heard the slurping. <\/span>She moaned softly through her work. I moaned out my pleasure. <\/span>I gave several more controlled grunts. But I heard, beyond the makeshift meeting room, people talking. They were only feet away beyond the curtain, and I had this woman sucking me off.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDid you hear that?\u201d I heard someone nearby say.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, I did.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou think \u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

After a pause, I heard, \u201cYes, their business is tanking. So sorry.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I was relieved that they hadn\u2019t heard Marjorie and me. Her fingers explored me, spreading my legs, fondling me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhoa, Marj \u2026 I\u2019m about to \u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She sucked harder and bobbed faster. Seconds later, I exploded in her mouth. I slouched in the chair, relaxed and relieved.<\/span><\/p>\n

She reappeared at the other end of the table. Her finger wiped a bit of my leftover from the corner of her mouth.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLiked it?\u201d she asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a \u2026 it\u2019s a flash mob, of its own kind.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She crossed her legs in pride and prowess. \u201cI learned something these past days: Never let a conference go to waste.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Enjoy this story more with 15% off LELO.com<\/a> with code VOLONTE15<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The assumption is employees hook up or, at least, get naughty at Christmas parties. But that isn\u2019t the case in the real business world. Office parties are one evening with a few drinks. Then the employees go home alone. The real hookups happen where there are fewer eyes and longer nights. They happen at business conferences. Marjorie worked for EDS Consulting and her company\u2019s booth was directly across from my company\u2019s display exhibit. Her company had a simple logo. 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