Paula's Retreat

As she came, she was imagining John was the one with his fingers inside of her. At least that was the way she remembered it later as sleep finally came to her.

...............

Tuesday.

It was a very productive day at the conference for Paula on Tuesday. She had spent the majority of the morning trying to avoid Paul Wright, hoping to be able to fend off any dinner invitations he would be offering, and had succeeded completely, not even getting a glimpse of him for the morning sessions.

By mid-day, Paula had stopped making any effort to avoid her mentor, knowing that it was inevitable that they would run into each other again over the next few days, but she did not see him at all.

Come the end of the day's sessions, Paula was shocked to find herself actively looking for Mr. Wright, and was actually disappointed when she did not find him. As Paula took the elevator up to her room she shook her head at the reflection in the mirror.

"What was getting into me?" Paula wondered aloud as the elevator doors opened on the third floor. Good thing she hadn't seen him, because the way her mind was working she might actually accepted a dinner invitation from him. Remembering the way the conversation had gone at the end of the previous evening, it was just as well that she kept to herself anyway.

Paula was just trying to decide whether to step out for a bite to eat or just grab a snack from a vending machine, when a sharp knock on the door startled her. It was a young man from the hotel staff with a package for her.

Paula thanked the boy and brought it over to the bed, curious as to where it came from, since there were no identifying marking on it besides her name. Paula Watson. Not Paula Dean, which had been her name for the last 18 years of married life.

Inside the box was a note sitting on top of a beautiful white dress. Holding the dress up in front of herself, she was startled to see that it was her size precisely, and she could tell by the touch of the fabric that this was a very expensive dress. Something she thought she could never afford, and a glance at the tiny price tag affixed to the label confirmed that suspicion.

Also something she could never wear either, as Paula looked at the low V-neck of the garment, which would reveal way too much of her shortcomings. The spaghetti shoulder straps would make wearing a bra impossible as well. As for the sides of the dress, they were wide open, with laces holding the sides of the dress together. Way too revealing for a woman with her body and pushing 40 besides.

The note inside was very brief and to the point.

Dearest Paula,

Something to wear for dinner tonight. Room 709 at seven. Looking forward to seeing you.

Paul

"Fat chance," Paula said aloud, tossing the note onto the bed and heading to the bathroom. The dress could go back into the box and go up to Room 709 by itself. The very thought of going up there wearing that dress sent a shiver of fear down her spine.

***

At 6:58 Paula gave herself a last glance in the mirror before heading out the door. The dress was way too revealing, so Paula had put a sweater on over it, and even with that on Paula felt half naked.

The virtually wide open sides of the dress revealed the profiles of her breasts, and the low and spacious front showed the rest of them. Not that it mattered, because the dress was so sheer you could practically see right through it anyway. No way she would let herself be seen in public like that, and Paula was doubly glad for the sweater when she got on the elevator and there were people on it, and pulled the sweater around her tightly until she got off on 7.

701... 702... 703...

Paula walked down the hall like she was going to her own execution. Still time to turn around and go back to her own room, she thought.

706. Still walking. The door were farther apart on this floor, giving Paula more time to think. More time to reconsider what she was doing. What was she doing?

"Just going to dinner," Paula said softly to no one, as she stood outside Room 709. That was all it was. Mr. Wright was nice enough to buy the dress, and so Paula felt obligated to wear it. Left the price tag on it too, because then he could take it back afterward, when he found out that whatever he had in mind, it wasn't going to happen.

"Ah Paula! Come in!"

Mr. Wright opened the door just as Paula reached up to knock, and he chuckled when he saw the sweater that Paula had clutched around herself.

"Just as I suspected," Paul said. "Modest as ever. Here, let's take this off of you so you can relax."

Paula watched Mr. Wright come around her and pull the sweater off of her, with only minimal resistance. Now she was virtually naked, and Mr. Wright was all eyes as Paula stood there trembling.

"Simply beautiful," he said. "Guessed at the size, and I might have gotten it right too. Come over to the bar and let's have a drink."

Paula was led over to the bar which was in the corner of the room, which did not resemble her room in the least. This was a suite, and a beautiful one at that. At least there was no bed in sight, Paula thought to herself, as Mr. Wright handed her a cocktail.

"Incredible room," Paula said as she looked around. "Nothing like mine."

"Ah, what else do I have to spend my money on these days? A widow with no children and no real expenses?" Might as well live it up. Besides, it's better for entertaining. No bed sitting there in the middle to scare a woman off."

Paula choked a little on her drink as she heard her thoughts come out of Mr. Wright's mouth. The sight of her reflection in the mirror was another thing all together. You could really see right through the dress in this light, and the outline of her plump nipples were clearly visible.

Without a bra, her sad little boobies just hung there unsupported. What did they used to call breasts like hers had become? Banana boobs? Funny. Funny until they become yours, she supposed.

As for down below, Paula was happy that she had the sense to wear panties despite the fact that the dress was not designed for them. Even with the panties on, Paula thought that you could still see the brown shadow of what spilled out of the undies, and tried to keep herself hidden from Mr. Wright's eyes, which had no left her for a second.

"The dress... it's beautiful," Paula finally said. "You shouldn't have. It was so expensive."

"Seeing Paula Watson in it was worth it," Mr. Wright said.

"Dean," Paula said softly.

"Pardon?"

"My name. Paula Dean," she managed. "Haven't been Watson in quite a while."

"Oh yes, of course! My mistake," Mr. Wright answered. "Paula Dean. Guess in my mind you'll always be Paula Watson though, but I will try to remember."

A knock at the door made Paula jump, and Mr. Wright moved away, scooping up Paula's sweater as he went away in the opposite direction of the door.

"That's dinner, most likely," Mr. Wright said as he went into the hall. "Be a dear and get that, would you Paula?"

Paula walked slowly to the door, as the knock was repeated. Why did he take the sweater away with him? She was practically naked as she peeked around the door.

"Room service!"

The chipper young fellow that had brought her the package earlier was pushing a small cart past her as the door opened. The boy gave her a double take as he entered the room and began setting things up.

Paula stood there awkwardly as the boy tried to stare at her while setting the table, and when Paula looked down she saw that her taut nipples were threatening to tear right through the fabric under the gaze of the young man. Had her nipples ever been so stiff before? So throbbing? Not in a long time.

Paula looked over to the side, and saw that Paul had been watching the two of them, and probably had been for the entire time. Probably enjoying her discomfort too, Paula figured, as she tried to casually cross her arms across her chest while the boy did his job with half of his attention.

Professor Wright came over and signed for the meal, and judging by the startled look on the lad's face, must have given him a tip out of proportion to the job he had done. The kid left the room and Paul latched the door behind him, the soft click resounding in Paula's ears like a dungeon door slamming shut.

"Come Paula, let's eat," he said, putting his hand around Paula's shoulder as he escorted her over to the little table, which had a couple of covered dishes and a bottle of wine opened and resting in a holder.

"Hope you like filet mignon," Paul said as he helped Paula into the chair and lifting the lid off of her plate before pouring the wine and sitting across from her at the little dinette.

"It's fine - very nice," Paula said as she cut into the tender meat, grateful for the chance to change the subject from herself, and they ate quietly, exchanging shop and weather talk sporadically throughout the meal.

Paula enjoyed the meal despite herself, savoring the chance to eat something so delicious that seldom fit into the modest Dean family budget, and as she polished off the chocolate mousse Paula proclaimed it a fine meal as she tossed the napkin onto the table.

"Yes, surprisingly good, all things considered," Paul said as he excused himself and walked around the corner.

Paula began tidying up the table in his absence, much like she would at home. She filled the glasses with the remaining wine as Paul came back around the corner.

"No need to do that, Paula," Professor Wright said with a chuckle. "Sit over on the sofa and relax."

"Old habits die hard," Paula said, realizing how silly it was for her to be doing housekeeping for the hotel, and took her wine over to the sofa.

Paula sat down on the plush love seat, and looked over at Professor Wright for the first time since he had returned. Paula's heart skipped a couple beats as she saw that he had changed from the suit and tie he had been wearing, and was now clad in satiny pajamas a deep mahogany in color, with matching slippers.

"Thought I'd get a little more comfortable," Professor Wright said, sitting at the matching love seat across from Paula. "Hope you don't mind."

Paula made a gurgling sound that was unintelligible, and was grateful that at least he hadn't sat next to her. The tiny coffee table that was between them comforted her as well, and she tried to make her hand stop shaking as she reached over and put her glass on the coaster.

"More wine?" Professor Wright asked. "No trouble getting another bottle."

"No - thank you," Paula said. "Big day tomorrow."

"Let's not worry about tomorrow," Paul said. "The night is still young, you know."

Paula sat there nervously, trying not to look at her mentor's eyes, which seemed to have some kind of control over her. Why else would she be in this room with him? On top of that, wearing a dress that left little to the imagination?

Paula's eyes strayed to Professor Wright's slipper, as he had just put his foot up on top of his knee. The pajama leg slid up a little as he did, exposing the skin on his lower leg, a leg covered with dark brown hair. Paula looked away for something else to fixate on, but Professor's Wright's voice got her attention.

"Just like old times," he said softly.

Paula started to ask him what he meant by that, since she had never been in a hotel room drinking wine with anybody, much less him, but then she saw the look on his face, and the direction his was looking at.

"Sorry," Paula mumbled, slapping her legs together as she saw that Paul had been staring up her dress.

"I was afraid that you had followed the current trend and had taken to defacing that glorious forest you have between your legs," Paul said as he rose and moved over to where Paula was sitting.

"It's quite clear that you haven't, and I'm so glad of that," he said as he slid next to Paula on the love seat. "In fact, unless my eyes are failing me, it seems that your bush has gotten even fuller than it was back at school. So nice of you to wear the white panties again too, dear Paula."

Paul jumped as Paul's big hand slowly came down on Paula's thigh.

"I'd better be going," Paula said.

"As you wish," Paul said, surprising her.

Paul's hand slid lightly up and down Paula's thigh, the faint down generously sprinkled on them easing the hand's travels.

Paula's eyes were like that of a deer suddenly caught in a car's headlights, her body unable or unwillingly to do what her mind was telling it too. Jump up! Walk out the door and don't come back!

"What is it you want?" Paula's voice squeaked. "I'm a married woman."

"I know, Paul said, his hand continuing to gently rub while his eyes were locked onto Paula's. "Your husband is a married man, and is home pulling on his cock while he looks at pictures of other women. Women who couldn't hold a candle to you."

"And you're a married woman," Professor Wright continued as his hand slid higher. "You're a married woman wearing a transparent dress with a hand sliding up your leg. Earlier, you had a kid so shook up by your beauty that he was creaming in his slacks just looking at you, and you have me half out of my mind with lust for you."

"I can't - I've never been with another man before. Not ever."

"How exciting that is to me," Professor Wright said, his hand sliding up under the hem of her dress. "To never feel the touch of anyone but your husband - to never make love to anyone but him all your life. Aren't you curious? Aroused?"

"What is it you want from me. Paul?" Paula pleaded.

"Tonight? Tonight I just want to look at you. Touch you. Let me..."

Professor's Wright's hand left her thigh and came up to her shoulder, gently grasping the thin strap of the dress and pulling it down off of her. He repeated that action with the other strap, while Paula stood frozen and allowed it.

The front of the dress fell down abruptly, as Paula's arm came up across her chest as her breasts were briefly exposed.

"You have such beautiful arms, Paula" Professor Wright said as his hand stroked her forearm tenderly. "But that's not what I want to see."

His hand pulled Paula's arm away from her breasts, and Paula looked down in shame as she was naked from the waist up.

"Your breasts are lovely," Professor Wright said, and as Paula looked down she saw her little orb disappear inside of his beefy hand. "Sensitive too, I'll bet."

He kneaded Paula's pliant breast, softly at first and then getting rougher, kneading and pulling at her spongy teat. Her nipples popped out under this intense fondling, and she found herself grinding into his grasp instead of pulling away, as his other hand began the same treatment of her other breast.

"My wife was very busty, but over the years I've been quite attracted to small breasted ladies like yourself," Paul confessed. "Something about being able to hold the entire bud in one's hand that I find very erotic."

Paula looked down at the way he was kneading them, and was stunned at how good his rough handling made them feel, even when he was twisting and milking the plump aureolas.

"I want - need to see more," Professor Wright said. "You know what I want to see. Take off your panties. I have to see your pussy."

"I can't!" Paula insisted, but it sounded less like a statement than a plea, and she scrambled to her feet and pulled the dress up to cover herself from Paul's persistent glare.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, you know," Paul said, and as he spoke he reached over and pulled a folder out of his briefcase. "Here Paula, I'd like you to take a look at this. Won't take but a minute."

Paula stood next to her mentor as he held up a photo.

"Sit down dear," Professor Wright said softly. "I just want you to look at some of these photographs."

Paula sat down carefully, deliberately not touching his leg as she eased down into the chair. The photo was of an attractive middle-aged woman. She was naked, except for a pair of sunglasses, and while she was a very busty woman, the camera was focused on the rich triangle of black hair that framed her womanhood.

"What say you?" Paul asked, looking for a reaction and finding one of shock on Paula's face.

"Well, she's quite attractive," Paula replied, not knowing what else to say.

"Quite," Paul said with a look of pride on his face. "It's my wife, bless her soul. Took these many many years ago. Always thought she had quite a lot of hair between her legs. What do you think?"

"I guess - I mean, I don't really know," Paula stammered.

"Now, take this woman here," Paul continued, showing her another picture. "Sorry about the quality. I took it off my computer. A gent sent it to me. He was quite proud of how hairy his wife was."

Paula glanced briefly at a woman who seemed to be just as hairy as she was, before Professor Wright took the photo away.

"Now I feel rather silly, looking at pictures of woman when I have such a magnificent example of the gender so close I can touch you - and smell you."

Paula felt helpless to resist as Paul slipped his hand under her dress and tugged the panties off of her, and the garment fell off of her as she rose and knelt on the cushion next to Paul.

"Incredible," he whispered as he looked between Paula's legs at the dense auburn triangle that covered her womanhood and even spilled over onto the insides of her thighs a bit.

Paula's entire body was shaking as she felt his hand touch her pubic hair, and she parted her thighs as his hand pried them apart, continuing to glide through the thick mat that extended down deep into her crotch.

"So soft," Paul grunted as he contorted his body. "Never touched a pussy so hairy before. Dear me, you're even more beautiful than I've always pictured you."

"You're wet too," he added, as his finger slid along the lips of her pussy, causing Paula to lose her balance and fall into him.

"Please..."

Paula said the word, but if her mentor had heard it he likely didn't know what it meant. Please what? Stop? Judging by Paula's reactions to his touch it certainly didn't seem so.

"I love the way your pussy hair grows so thickly way down between your legs - all the way to your anus, or so it seems," Paul said as his hand probed deeper down between her legs before sliding back up.

Suddenly, Paula gasped as she felt Paul's thumb sliding between her labia. Paula let out a long and tortured moan as Professor Wright's thumb went inside of her ever so slowly. Paula was swiveling as it went deeper and deeper inside of her, feeling almost like a cock as he skewered her with the entire length of his thumb before pulling it back out just as slowly.

Paula tried to clamp her legs together to keep it inside of her, and so Paul repeated the process, causing Paula to lurch and shake again. Her entire body was convulsing as Paul began to thrust his thumb into her at a more rapid pace.

He soon realized that Paula was riding his thumb and so he stopped moving his hand and simply let her use it as she wished. His index finger came up under Paula and began gently stroking her anus, which caused her to begin bucking wildly.

Paul leaned forward and began sucking on Paula's breasts, which were flopping around as she humped his hand. Paul bit and sucked roughly on the loosely dangling tits, almost managing to get the entire orb in his mouth in his passion.

With his free hand, Paul held Paula steady with his hand cupped under her arm. As Paula moved he felt the moist fuzz of her armpit rubbing against his fingers, and the faint floral aroma filled the air.

Paula began yelping loudly, clawing at him as he felt her pussy contract onto his thumb violently, again and again, and he felt Paula's hot juices splashed over his hand and wrist as she came, her body drenched with sweat as she finally collapsed against the back of the sofa, with Paul's thumb still embedded deep inside of her.