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Cindi, my wife, gave me a quick blow job as I left for 4 days away from her. I was just as sad a she since we still have a great sex life and she stays fit as can be.I checked in and wandered over to the conference roos for a day of motivational speeches and sales tips.That evening the five of us in the same company dined together in a great restaurant. To my pleasant surprise, money was no object, the company paid for the entire night. I had a beer and two scotches and everyone else did likewise.As we headed back to our rooms, Sandy, the sales manager, asked if I could join her.“I’d like to go over some of your figures for the last quarter” she remarked.I followed her to a suite on the top floor. They definitely treat the mangers right. Her room was massive with a separate living room and a huge master bath with a whirlpool.“Pour yourself a drink while I change and get my paperwork” she quipped.I poured a small drink and sat on a couch in the living roomSandy emerged from the. I just lay there in stupor. The first thing I realized was that it was not my bed. It was far too large, soft, and smelled too good to be mine.Then I got this feeling that I wasn't alone. Maybe it was the odd perfume, or after shave, it was hard to tell the difference, that gave it away. Maybe it's the breathing that wasn't coming from me, or maybe it was the feel of skin pressed against my naked ass. That Sunday morning it was definitely skin. Since I didn't feel a penis, or boobs, he or she had to be sleeping turned away from me.I don't really mind being held, and I don't mind not being held, what I mind is not knowing who is holding or not holding me. Before I made an ass of myself, I tried to remember what had happened the night before. I remember Jen's stupid party, and I remember the Cop Out. I even remember the invitation by Anya. So odds were good that I was in the fancy bed and breakfast downtown. Did that mean Anya was beside me, or did she sell me into slavery after she.
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