The Conference

Elle seduced a colleague at an out-of-town event

“My wife is going to kill me if she finds out that I’m here with you,” he said as he cracked open hotel room door.  Elle smiled from the hallway and put a finger on one of the thin spaghetti straps that held up her black dress.  

“That would be a shame,” she said and let the strap fall off her shoulder. “My husband thinks it’s kind of hot.”

It was more than “thinking,” of course. Elle and her husband had been planning capers like this since she booked a ticket to the conference. She would look for exactly the right mark–physically attractive, married and surprisingly willing to break his vows at the drop of a carefully calculated suggestion.

“He knows?” he asked, curious.

Elle conspicuously looked down at the fallen strap and pantomiming something along the lines of I don’t know how that happened. 

And then, “He knows enough.”

Earlier that afternoon she presented her work to a crowded business casual room of strivers. She took the stage in a smart jumpsuit that didn’t need a bra. The crowd listened intently. Some wanted more. 

After all, everyone knows that people entertain the idea of cheating on their spouses at conferences if just the right opportunity presents itself. And this one offered the perfect mix of casual anonymity and self-selection that kept standards high and likelihood of getting caught low.  And over the course of the next few hours she exchanged flirty smiles and subtle innuendo with a few different prospects. It felt a little awkward to knowingly flirt, but then again she didn’t have that much time. 
After dinner she went back to her room and changed the tight black dress her husband liked. The plan was always that she would try to find someone else to take it off of her.  Maybe she could find a little courage with a few drinks at the bar. After all, that was usually where the best conversations happened.

And that she met him.  Tall. Athletic. Married. Unlikely to get attached.  After some banter she asked her if his room was significantly better than her’s.  She said she’d like to see it.  
It was easy.

“Are you going to let me in?” she asked, and then waited a beat “Or do you want to keep thinking about your wife?”

He let her in.  And she could tell that he was thinking about his wife. Comparing the two of them, and wondering why his wife wasn’t this forward. Or if he could really go through with it.  

Elle looked up at him ever so slightly and relished in the power that she had over men to break their vows.  

Within seconds of closing the door he pulled her against him and she could feel him swelling against her. He wanted her. They kissed against the wall and she flirtatiously unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt and then sunk to her knees and looked up. 
She wanted to look submissive like it had been his idea all along. She pressed her hand against his cock and then took down the zipper of his slacks. She was more than forward. Tonight she was a slut.

“I don’t think your wife would mind me licking your cock, would she?” Elle freed it from his clothes and smiled as he quivered in front of her. 

“Of course not,” he lied.

Elle put her hand on his thigh and moved it up over to the base of his shaft. 
“I want you to take a picture of me licking you,” Elle said. 

Elle didn’t usually like performing for the camera. But this was different–she wanted evidence of her infidelity. She wanted her husband to know what she was capable of. She wanted to know that herself. 

So she gave this man the best blow job he’d ever had. Teasing him and bringing him to the brink of coming, only to back off because she wanted her own pleasure. He snapped a handful of images on her phone–evidence of who she could become. 

She sent one off in the digital ether and laid it on the ground. 

“Now let’s do something your wife won’t.” said Elle. 

#hotwife #cheating #withpersmission