Sex Stories

Two days before the conference, I heard from her. She was sexually delirious with the idea that we could have the opportunity to renew our passion and told me she was quite anxious to connect in Philadelphia. I could not say no. I could not tell her that in the meantime I had met someone else online and had planned to meet that woman at the hotel where the conference was to be held.

I was, indeed, in a quandary.

So, here I sat in the conference hall, watching this new woman walk back and forth across the stage, comparing her to the one I had met some months ago. Opposites, to be sure. Where my first black involvement had been tall, willowy and cafŽ au lait in color, this woman was short, compact and as black as the inside of Hades. I wondered where my “friend” might be. I supposed she was conducting a seminar in one of the other meeting rooms, but had not yet seen her. I hoped she would make contact soon and we could slip away for lunch to make plans. I had already reserved a room upstairs and hoped that we could arrange things so that she and I would skip all afternoon sessions and retire to our romantic tryst for the entire afternoon. My sordid plan was to tell her, then, that I could not stay the evening because of family problems and make her afternoon one to remember for a long time. That way, I could meet my new online partner for the evening and hope that my physical stamina would withstand the attention of two women.

But I did not see her anywhere during any of the refreshment breaks, in the halls between sessions, or at lunch when we were ushered into the huge banquet hall. I scanned the crowd with anxious eyes but found only the woman from that morning weaving her way through the tables toward where I was standing. I paid little attention to her and continued to search the crowd for my lost lover. I even moved out of her way when she approached the table where I was standing.

She, however, did not move; and she stood directly in front of me and extended her hand to take mine, saying, “I think we have a mutual friend.”

The details of our lunch conversation need not be reproduced here in their entirety. Let it simply be said that we adjourned to a small Italian restaurant a block away for some privacy (her suggestion, not mine) and shared an antipasto. Her contact was deliberate. My previous romantic liaison had informed her about me, about my propensity for a particular type of sexual stimulation, and the fact that I would be at this conference looking for her. At the last minute, she could not be present and thought that this woman might be an apologetic substitute for me.