Chapter 29
After that...
I don't know why, but I got scared. You know, the feelings were getting a little bit too much for me. So, I left for college, and never called Paige again, even though I promised to. I didn't take her calls either. I even blocked her on all platforms.
Don't ask me why I did it. I can't explain it, all I know is that I got spooked.
Okay, let's fast forward to five years later...
I must really be horny, to be sitting here fantasizing about the keynote speaker. I squirm in my chair and worry that I'm making a damp spot. The geek next to me appears to be equally captivated by the woman at the podium; there's a big bulge in his lap. I wonder if he's catching my tell-tale scent.
Paige Turner, founder and CEO of VideoPlayHaus.com, is in total control of the stage. I can't take my eyes off her. She's the only woman on the SoftCon opening panel, addressing the ostensibly earth-shaking topic: "The New Net: Convergence or Confusion?"
In contrast to the casual beige of her fellow Silicon Valley visionaries, Paige wears an emerald green pantsuit of rich velvet that molds perfectly to her body. The business-like cut only makes her curves more obvious. She takes the microphone and struts around like the star that she is. The velvet gleams in the spotlight that follows her.
Her silky brunette tresses are currently shorter than I remember, and parted along one side with spiky sideburns that accentuate her cheekbones. Her eyes are dark, too. Even from the middle of the auditorium, I can see that her ripe lips are painted crimson. I imagine those lips claiming mine, firm, no nonsense, and then I imagine them lower, smearing my belly with scarlet, marking the insides of my thighs with lipstick brands before fastening on my aching clit. I can feel the soft nap of her trousers caressing my flesh as she parts my thighs with her own.
I'm so aroused that it hurts. I consider slinking off to the ladies room, but I don't want to miss an instant of Paige's performance. I try to focus on what she's saying. I'm sure that it must be intelligent if not enlightening. But I keep getting distracted by the V of tanned skin above the closure of her jacket.
Finally she concludes, to rowdy applause, and re-seats herself as the moderator calls the next speaker. I skim her bio in the program. American mother, German father. Degrees from the University of California, Berkeley and Stanford. Stints at HP and Oracle before she left to start Video Play Haus, her phenomenally popular site for collaborative video editing. When VPH went public last year, she became one of the few women among the ranks of Valley millionaires.
Another technology mogul, a pudgy guy in a denim jacket, drones on about ubiquitous computing and the personaIation revolution. Paige scans the audience, looking bored. For a moment, I have this bizarre notion that she's staring at me. I hold my breath, my heart slamming against my ribs. I swear that I can see lust in her eyes.
Jim looks up from his laptop and grins. "How did you find the keynote session? I know this is not your field, but did you get any startling new insights into the awesome future of technology?" He asks.
"Nah, same old, same old. I will leave that up to you, and concentrate on the legal aspect." I said.
"Tell me about your company. What does FaceQuest do?" The question is soft but clear, carefully articulated, with the faintest hint of an accent. I nearly jump out of my trousers. I hadn't noticed her approach.
She's here, in the flesh, standing in front of me in that outrageous velvet suit and waiting for my answer.
