Back to the Future?

The hotel was a nice one, and we were there for a conference with seminar rooms. It was a very professionally organised event, and it started on the evening we got there. Forms, exercises, lots of computer analysis and all very personalised. My fellow delegates ranged in age from, well, me (I was by far the youngest there) up to mid forties…people seeking a change of direction. 

I had discussed with Emily the very real possibility that I might get laid, but now, here, I felt I really didn’t want to. Oh there were some likely candidates, both male and female, and the pre-Emily me would have wanted to see how many people I could fuck over the weekend,  but now….well, now, all I wanted was to have phone sex with the girl who is soon to be my wife. 

The Saturday morning was more psychometric testing and a very penetrating 1:1 with a careers counsellor, followed by a seminar. About 20 of us were in a room that was too small, with a course leader, but the technology wasn’t playing ball. No projector, and he wanted to show us a ten minute video with only his laptop, so we had to stand and huddle round the table as best we could. 

It was a crush and I was in the middle but towards the back of the pack. I felt myself being jostled…..and then I felt a hand on my bum. A definite, deliberately placed hand! A hand that was feeling for the outline of my panties. I couldn’t move to turn round and see who it was, and that added to not only the mystery, but also the surprising level of arousal I was feeling. 

Being groped by a stranger is definitely on my bucket list, and here it was happening right now. Thank God I rarely wear pants. I’m definitely a dress girl, and anyway, most hotels are grossly overheated. I felt the fingers finish their exploration and return to my bum. Then I felt a sort of grabbing…no, scratch that…wrong word…it was more of a gathering as whoever it was inch by inch lifted my dress at the back. Then I felt a hand slip down the waistband of my panties from the back and over my bare bum. I tried to raise myself on tippy toe but I couldn’t have held that position for long.

I needn’t have worried, my mystery person dealt with the height imbalance and I felt a single finger push into me from behind. It didn’t go in far…but it did go in far enough to touch my g-spot. Whoever it was began a gentle massage inside me. My clit was screaming for attention but there was no way either I or my mystery person could have reached it without what was happening being noticed. 

Maybe that’s what did it…maybe the mounting frustration, coupled with the fact that I didn’t know who was fingering me was enough. All I do know was that I was a hot mess down there. 

I was never going to cum like this, but as erotic moments go, this was right up there with the best of them. The video ended, and the crush of people melted away. I took a seat at the back. Someone in this room had my scent on their finger and I was sure I’d be able to spot someone either licking their finger, or maybe just smelling it surreptitiously. 

Maybe I just missed the moment, because I couldn’t find out who it was. At coffee time, I gave the cappuccino a miss and went straight to the restroom. In a cubicle, I peeled my panties down. Let me tell you. I’ve been wet before…countless times…but this was incredible. The whole crotch was soaked, and yes, ‘soaked’ is the only word for it. Damn, but I was frustrated! If only either I or this person had managed to get a hand around my front and onto my clit I would have easily cum in that hot, stuffy little room. Instead, I sat on the toilet, knees spread wide, staring at the mess in my panties and rubbed my clit. Somewhere, I was certain, someone else was masturbating thinking about fingering me. 

I came quite silently, but with enough force for me to hear a steady trickle as I squirted into the toilet bowl. 

No time to change….coffee was only fifteen minutes….I had no choice but to pull my wet panties back on. I suppose I could have discarded them and gone panty-less, but I do enjoy being wet, and after a cum, I tend to leak for a while. I didn’t want to risk a wet patch on my dress. 

Another seminar…this time on the delights of being a train driver…(actually I could see the advantages of this…a very good salary, but oh…the shift work? Definitely NOT me.) So….off to lunch which I gave a miss. I don’t like or trust these cold buffet type hotel lunches, so I went back to my room. I definitely needed a change of panties if nothing else. In fact, all I did was slip my wet ones off had a clean up and a half hour power nap before the afternoon sessions. 

I never discovered the identity of my assailant. But I have no doubt at all that it was a ‘she’. I don’t think a man would have been content with just fingering me. The moment he realised that I not only wasn’t going to scream the place down, but that I actually liked it, I am certain a man would have tried to hook up with me later. A woman wouldn’t do that. A woman would be content with just fingering another girl. Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s what I think. 

The weekend was due to finish late on Sunday afternoon, but I was a girl on a mission. I wanted to see what it was like not to be the one who was touched, but the one who was doing the touching. Yes, I know, risky, much. Even so, I figured that no man would object to a 22 year old girl rubbing his dick through his pants, but then that would have led to him wanting to fuck me and I really didn’t want that. I looked around the group, making careful observations on every woman there….and I found someone I had missed. 

She was one of those girls who is just invisible in a crowd. Earlier, I said I was the youngest one there, but either this girl joined the course late, or I just didn’t notice her. My age or maybe a couple of years older, mousey brown hair, and (oh this is going to sound catty) someone who is never going to win a beauty competition. She was small-boobed, although bigger than me, and her teenage acne had never really gone away, poor love. 

So, target identified, now how to actually do it. I realised that during buffet-type meals, everyone is balancing a paper plate on one hand and talking either in couples or small groups. Our meals were all served in a room with central tables where the food was set up, and not a chair in sight. (In fact, given the size of this venue, if I had been organising this event, I would have complained about the size of rooms they gave us…they were all too small for the number of delegates, and the catering arrangement were, frankly, pathetic…says she who ran a chain of coffee shops for a couple of months! 

So I picked her out and made a beeline for her. I placed myself in the corner of the room which meant she had to face me, but I had sight over the whole room. Nobody was paying us the slightest attention. So, idle chat…where are you from…what’s your name (Lisa)…what brought you here (parental pressure, apparently)…blah…blah…girly talk…more girly talk. Meanwhile, my plate was in my left hand, but my right hand picked its moments during the conversation to brush against her thigh. She didn’t move, not even when I let my hand stay a little too long. 

She asked me if I had a boyfriend. I looked her straight in the eye and said “I have a fiancé…and it’s a ‘she’”. At the same moment, I allowed my right hand to touch her thigh..and let it stay there. Lisa looked directly at me and said. “Hm…a girl…I always wondered..” with those three words, I knew what I was about to do would be ok. I just let my hand move slightly up and across until I was touching her pubic bone. She was wearing a pleated skirt…almost like a school skirt…certainly no fashion lover this girl….because the room was as it was, and the guy next to me had his back to me, it was perfectly safe. 

I surprised myself. With one flick of my wrist and fingers, my hand was under her skirt and reaching between her legs. Her eyes never left mine as I rubbed her clit through the material. Hooking a finger under the leg of her panties gave me access to her hole, but I felt the unmistakable presence of a hymen, so I resumed touching her outside her undies. 

It didn’t take long at all before I saw her neck and face colour up, and she convulsed against my hand, almost dropping her plate as she did so. Afterwards she said “Shall I….?” And glanced down at my crotch. I felt mean about what I said. It’s highly likely I was the first girl to touch her, and she may well have wanted to know what it’s like to touch another girl, but I declined. “If you want to do something for me, go to the restroom, take your panties off and let me have them.” She nodded, and disappeared into the crowd. 

But she didn’t come back. Maybe it had all been a bit too much. I went back to my room, packed, and went to reception to check out. I was almost at the door before Lisa caught me. “Here.” She said and pushed something into my hand. “I did it again when I got to my room. In these.” She turned and almost fled. Oh dear. In my hand was her balled up and very wet undies. 

Back home, I related what had happened to Emily who became very aroused. Lisa’s panties got put to good use. 

And the conference? Any idea what I might do? Nope. I just don’t think I could ever work for someone else. I’d want to do things my way, and I am terrible at implementing decisions made by people who have a job title, but aren’t up to it….so called “managers”. The kind that make a half thought through decision and then blame the workers when it all goes bad. So there’s only one thing for it…I’m going to work for myself. I’m going to try some stock market investing - dad always wanted me to try that and he is a licensed trader himself. He says there are ‘practice’ systems I can try first. They don’t work in real time, but they’re close enough. 

And I’m going to invest in property. I’d like to run some more coffee shop/cafe type venues, but that market is very unstable right now. I will use some of my money to buy a house, convert it to flats and see what the income generation is. Like I say, I don’t need the money, but it will exercise my brain.