10+: An out-of-body sale

You rub the sleep out of your eyes, overcome by a strong sensation of disorientation. Was that all a dream? Did the last 24 hours really just occur as you seem to remember them? Certainly, committing adultery and exercising don't feel like things that would happen in Your Real Life. But your arms are sore, your skin has the feeling of slept-in sweat, there's that pillow discarded on the floor, and there's your phone. You turn off the alarm and pick it up to log in to the chat room, which, sure enough, exists. Your head reels as the enormity of what you did yesterday sinks in. Not just infidelity, but with your boss, putting both your home life and your work life into an infinitely more precarious and less stable position. Everything that felt right yesterday seems wrong in hindsight. Scrolling back through the chat history you are stunned by your playful and agressive banter with Kate, and the ease with which you handed over that ridiculous photo. Clearly, yesterday was not a dream. It just feels stranger than one. You suddenly notice that your mouth is unbearably hot and dry, and you stumble abruptly out of the bed and stagger into the bathroom.

Gulping down a cup of water, you catch your own eyes, and look yourself in them. Who am I? You set down the cup and strip naked, standing back to look at your full body in the mirror. The feeling is even more surreal, and your sense of ownership, of oneness with what you see in the mirror is even more detached. Am I the Sean that went to sleep yesterday, or the Sean that went to sleep the day before? Blinking slowly, you turn to start the shower, and look back at the mirror over your shoulder. Either way, I still have a job to do. Best to get at it.

You shower mechanically, your hands and arms moving with only the faintest touches of conscious thought. Returning to autopilot, your body performs its rituals and habits almost by itself, washing and drying, dressing and preparing, eating breakfast in the lobby and walking out to the rental car. As you sit down in the driver's seat, you shake your head. Snap out of it. Wake up. You key the address of your day's appointment into your phone, and drive. Eventually, you pull into the parking lot of your destination, and turn off the car. You slap yourself lightly on each cheek, and shake your head again, as if will cast off the feeling of cobwebs in your brain. Game time. Wake up. Tune in.

You gather up your laptop/product bag and a goodie bag and walk inside the clinic. The clinic is a sprawling two-story building fronted by glass and stone, and inside is a water feature to the right framing an open-riser staircase, an entrance into a Radiology department to the left, and a broad bank of desks in front. You walk up to the first one who gestures to you, and inform her you have an appointment with Maria Flores. The receptionist indicates that she will call her down, and to have a seat. You settle in to a bank of chairs, and a few minutes, later, Maria walks down the stairs.

Maria Flores is a Hispanic woman in her mid to late 50s with light brown skin and straight black shoulder-length hair. Standing 5' 7", she has a broad shouldered rectangular frame, and is wearing a dark green blazer and coordinating gold and emerald necklace over matching matte black pants and a black top that is cut low enough to show just a couple inches of cleavage. You stand to greet her, turning on the charm and the smile and extending your hand for a shake. She leans slightly forward and shakes your hand. As your eyes raise up from negotiating the grip of the handshake to meet her eyes, they sweep over a more generous view of cleavage, searing the image in your memory like a sunspot in the field of vision. "It's great to meet you," she says. "I'm Maria Flores, our site manager."

Look at the size of those things, you think, as you simultaneously say "You as well. I'm Sean Zunge." Those must be D cup at least. "Thank you again for meeting with me today." Maybe double D? Your eyes remain firmly focused on hers.

"Of course," she returns. As she continues speaking, your body continues to smile and nod and inflect at all the right moments but your mind is off in its own world. Natural, or enhanced? "We're always looking for ways to fill holes in the product line we provide our patients." How dark are her aereolas? How wide? "We look forward to what you have to show us." What would those look like dropping as she pulled that top off up over her head? "Please, come with me." What would they feel like pressed together around my dick? "We'll go to the conference room and you can ready yourself while I gather the others." She releases your hand, which you realize you have been holding this whole time, and turns to walk towards the staircase.

You blink, then follow. What the hell is going on? Certainly you've noticed physical features before, but not that explicitly or strongly, and not with the immediate jump to corresponding sexual imagery. But why wouldn't I wonder how quickly her nipples got hard as I sucked on them? Your cock stirs as you start up the staircase behind Maria. Your eyes are naturally drawn to her legs as she ascends. Her pants are not tight, exactly, but they are form fitting enough that no contour is left undefined as she moves. Flat ass, hips not too wide, thighs tapering to smallish calves. Ass looks firm, though, and thighs broad and inviting. Her legs swish against each other mezmerizingly as she climbs the stairs. I imagine it all comes together nicely bent into the curves of being on all fours. Better yet, flip her on her back and hold her ankles up and apart so that I can see those tits and those thighs all at once.

Maria reaches the top of the stairs and takes a right, then the first right into a glass-walled conference room. As you reach the top of the stairs you realize you have a full erection, and quickly glance around to see if anybody is in within eyesight before trying to adjust your positioning through the fabric of your pants. The bulging of your pants is less obvious but still noticeable, and you have to move the goodie-bag tote in front of yourself in a rushed reaction as Maria turns to look at you and gesture you in to the room.

"Please, come in," Maria says, holding open the door. "I'll give you a chance to straighten out your things while I gather the others. Oh, I almost forgot," she adds, letting go of the door once you have passed through it. She walks to the end of the conference table and, facing directly away from you, bends over at the waist with straight legs, her ass high and squarely framed in your vision. If only those pants were off, and I could grab those hips and push right inside her. "In case you need to plug in," she says over her shoulder, picking up something on the ground. I wonder what that flat ass sounds like when my body is slapping against it. She stands and turns, holding a black cable with a variety of display adapters. She step toward her, keepie the goodie bag in position to obscure your erection, and take hold of the cable. "I'll go round up the others," she says, and brushes against you lightly and she walks past you and out of the room.

You set the tote on the table. Snap out of it. Tune in. You look down at your slightly tented pants front. Quit drooling over Maria and maybe this nuisance will go away. You close your eyes and take three deep breaths, then go about setting up your presentation. The autopilot kicks in, and you settle into the zone. You are setting up the laptop and arranging the products and straightening your notes and confirming the display and everything just gets done, the same way it always does. As people start filing in to the room you flow smoothly between them, greeting and shaking hands. It is not until the third person enters that you think to mentally check if your erection is gone, and you are immensely grateful to discover that it is. Another person enters the room and you are back in Meet And Greet Mode, all smiles and warmth and attention and constant motion. Eventually Maria reenters and announces all present, and you launch into your presentation.

You nail it. The words are flowing smoothly, the people are nodding and raising their eyebrows appreciatively, and the questions being asked are the type that display a genuine interest in the product rather than a polite but pointless way to fill time. After the presentation and Q&A, Maria thanks you and everyone in attendance and dismisses the room. You pack up your laptop and notes and demo product as people file out of the room.

Maria walks over to you and shakes your hand again with one firm pump. "Thank you again for coming, Sean."

"My pleasure. Oh, and this is for you," you add, picking up the goodie bag and handing it to her. "Some trinkets and baubles with our branding to keep us on your mind, and my card. Please don't hesitate to ask any questions you may have."

Maria quirks an eyebrow. "I was wondering what was hiding behind the walls of this bag. Thank you. Let me escort you out." She turns and walks out of the conference room, and you follow her down the stairs, across the foyer, and into the parking lot. Outside, she stops and turns to face you. "We will regather and decide as a group how to proceed, but for my part, I think you have a lovely product, which you present very well, and I will advocate that we pursue it. When we have come to a decision I will reach out and reconnect with you." She hands you a card, which she must have been holding in her hand. "In the meantime, my card, should anything come up that I can help you with."

Maria shakes your hand one more time, then turns and walks back into the clinic.

You have 3 XP, -1 Hard, +3 Hot, +1 Cool, -1 Control, Cunnilingus and Old Habits Die Hard (2). Desire levels: Kate +0, Rachel -1.

What do you do next? Try to process your thoughts? Go back inside the clinic and create some pretext to meet with Maria?