(Other parts in my hx)

Maybe my plan to escape for my birthday wasn't a great idea, I admitted to myself, sitting alone in a sleepy hotel restaurant with a book. A group of colleagues and I were supposed to rendezvous for dinner before a conference the next day. We were all flying in and were planning to meet for dinner and drinks. However, poor weather meant I landed to a long string of texts reporting flight delays and cancelations. We were supposed to meet 10 minutes ago and, so far, I was the only one who made it. My birthday happened to coincidence with the conference but I hadn't mentioned it to my colleagues.

I would have fought through any blizzard to get away this birthday. I needed a change of scene. Ever feel like you want to escape your perfectly good life for just a little while? My life at home was great. I married my college sweetheart, we had tons of friends and loved to entertain. I worked at my children's school, volunteered, lunched with friends, took pilates and spin classes, despite hating them, cooked elaborate meals and fucked my husband whenever he wanted. He was in a fraternity in college, had a very successful career, kept in shape and was hopelessly charming and gregarious.

I came across evidence of his long-distance, emotional affair a few months ago, completely accidentally. He didn't know that I knew. He was so bad at hiding things. I was letting it all sink in before my deciding my next step. If I was honest, I also felt like we were in a rut. Sex was infrequent and routine, we didn't feel connected.

When this conference rolled around, I jumped on the opportunity to be away and distracted. Except, I was sipping a large glass of wine and reading on my own.

I was startled when I looked up and realized someone was standing at my table. "Hi," I stammered and cleared the opposite side of the table. Alex, our senior corporate attorney smiled and sat down.

"I'm glad you're here! At least someone else made it," he said, sliding his suit jacket off.

"I'm glad, too!" I was not glad. I had only seen Alex from afar at infrequent group events. He was based in a different office and my only interactions were dry, boring conference calls. I pictured a night of boring, forced conversation.

Alex was over 6' and was athletic looking. Now in his late 40s, you could tell he was probably in incredible shape at one point and hadn't lost it. He had dark hair and trendy glasses. His clothes were always impeccable. This evening, he was in a dark blue suit that was tailored to show off his broad shoulders. He smelled heavenly, like an expensive, European spa.

He rolled up his sleeves and, when the waitress appeared, he ordered a shockingly expensive scotch and another drink for me without asking.

The conversation started off slowly but quickly became very enjoyable. To my surprise, he had a great sense of humor and animatedly told me great stories about work. We talked about pets, the things we did when we were younger, concerts we'd seen. We shared travel stories and talked about the places and things we still wanted to experience. Before I realized it, it was late and we were 3 rounds in. I had a thing for younger men but I was very drawn to Alex's charisma and confidence. On one hand, he appeared almost arrogant and privileged but he was also funny, non-judgmental and smart.

I couldn't tell what he thought about me at all. That is, until he matter-of-factly gave me my first hint, "You look great in that dress. It shows off your body so well and you're always so good with that."

I blushed and felt a little giddy. He noticed me? My guard was down and I blurted out that I had been skeptical but was enjoying this birthday very much. We needed to celebrate, he exclaimed! He had tons of tipsy enthusiasm and called a waitress over to see what he could conjure up, at the late hour.

I had mentioned in passing how much I loved massages. When the hotel couldn't provide a professional this late, he insisted on massaging me himself. He called himself a professional but what did that mean? It was impossible to read him and I genuinely couldn't tell what he was thinking.

I returned from the restroom to find him waiting for me. "They're going to bring up some champagne and nice bath salts. Let's head up."

His room was much nicer than mine. Spacious and luxurious, I could also tell that he was neat and precise. He rummaged through a dresser drawer while I slid off my pumps. He gave me a pile of folded clothes and pointed towards the bathroom, "One of these should work, why don't you get changed." As a little tease, I asked him to unzip my dress for me. I could have reached it but enjoyed feeling his hand gently pull the zipper down my bare back. I smiled to myself knowing he could easily see the top of my lacey thong.

I looked around the bathroom at the little apothecary bottles and jars full of expensive looking potions. Then I looked at what he gave me, a couple of his t-shirts. I felt so naughty being in another man's hotel room. Alex made me feel excited and sexy and I couldn't remember when I felt like that before.

I decided to go bold and emerged from the bathroom in a towel, instead of his shirt. He smiled after the quickest flash of surprise on his face. He politely looked away as I lay on my front on the bed, draping the towel over my ass, careful not to cover too much.

Alex was just in his white tee and had slipped on pajama pants. For the first time, I could see his well defined arms and chest. I tried not to let him notice how excited I was when he touched me. His hands ran over my body, relaxing my muscles while he told me stories and laughed softly. The massage felt very professional, to my dismay, but his strong hands were melting the stress away.

Wait. Did his hand just graze my ass while he was working on my legs? Was that intentional or just a mistake?