The first morning of the conference was torturous. I figured nobody would notice if I blew off the rest of the afternoon and took a walk around the city. Shortly after the lunch break, I quietly made my way out of the auditorium and headed for my room. I felt awkward dressed up in a suit and couldn’t wait to get into something more my style. It was only three months ago that they promoted me at the office, told me that I’d be travelling more and that I had better start dressing up. Fashion consciousness was never quite my thing. Tee shirts and jeans were what I felt most comfortable with. I wished I were a man; It’s so easy for them… pick out a suit, white shirt, tie and call it a day. Riding up in the elevator I was trying to remember what I had packed the day before so early in the morning. I was hoping I had even remembered to bring some casual cloths.
I emptied my duffel bag on the hotel room bed. Thank God, I thought as soon as I saw an old pair of jeans, a couple of tee shirts and flannel shirt tumble out. I stripped off my skirt and blouse with excited urgency. I picked up my jeans only to realize at once that they weren’t the ones I had meant to pack. Fuck! I thought, I can’t wear these! They were one my oldest and favorite pair of Levi’s 501’s, but because they had become so faded and torn I had long ago stopped wearing them in public. The hem around the ankles was a mess of loose threads, the knees were shot, there were tears right around the ass, exposing my butt cheeks and, (don’t ask me how this came to be), there was a big threadbare worn spot right at my crotch. Worst of all, these jeans, which I’ve owned since I was seventeen or eighteen, were just way too tight!
I sat on the bed absent-mindedly caressing the old 501’s wondering what to do. They were so soft and they reminded me of so many great experiences when I was still in college and more carefree. I wanted to feel them on me. I slipped out of my panties and wiggled into my jeans. Damn they were tight! But when I got them on and buttoned them up they felt so good. I stood up to check myself out in the full-length mirror. I turned around, looking over my shoulder I nodded approvingly at my butt. Damn I’ve got a nice body. I ran my hand up and down from my waist to my knee, feeling the threads dangling from the tears, feeling the shapely curvature of my butt and the bare skin of my ass cheeks. Then I slowly moved my hand around and touched my crotch. I could feel the heat radiating through that threadbare spot. With a little effort I was able to tear some fabric apart and stick my index finger through a small hole and feel my clit which was soaking wet. After a little probing I licked my finger and only one thought ran through my head: Vibrator! Did I remember to pack it? God, please, let me have packed it! Rifling through the emptied contents of my duffel bag I found it, turned it on and slipped it through the same hole in my crotch causing the denim to tear a little bit more. I fell back on the bed, legs wide apart, knee bent over the edge. I moaned than screamed with pleasure.