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Night Flight (FM, mile-high club)
by Al Steiner (al_steiner@hotmail.com)
Date: 3/12/99
Feel free to archive, share, or do anything else with. But please leave
intact the author's name and the text of the story. Send comments to
al_steiner@hotmail.com
***
I work for one of the country's major auditing firms as an auditor.
Companies that are traded on the stock exchange require annual audits of
their books by law by a 'so-called' independent entity to make sure no funny
business is going on with the financial transactions or inventories. It's a
living and not a bad one for now, most young accountants with their eyes on
future six- figure incomes make their starts doing what I do. I make
fifty-five thousand a year but I work my ass off for it, sometimes putting in
Seventy-hour weeks, rarely putting in less than fifty. It's the rat race at
it's finest, I won't deny that, but this job does have a few perks to it, one
of them being that fact that I'm often required to fly to other cities to
examine the books in a client's branch office.
About once every two months or so a team of usually two of us but
sometimes as many as six will board an airplane and fly off to some other
part of the country. Our clients always put us up in one of the finest
hotels where we're going, with private rooms, room service and bar tabs, top
of the line rental cars, and often as not, some sort of entertainment package
for our off- time as well. I look forward to these trips for several
reasons. For one, they get me out of the day to day grind for awhile. They
also allow me to see other parts of the country that I never would otherwise
have bothered to visit. And since I'm single, it's nice to sample the
nightlife of a strange town. Usually, with a little effort, I manage to get
myself laid while on these trips and let me tell you, it's nice to have a
brief sexual encounter with a woman that you'll never see again once you
return home.
A few weeks ago one of these trips popped up unexpectedly. Usually
we know about them a few months in advance but this time one of our
pharmaceutical company clients needed a quick audit for a pending merger. We
completed the in- town work in two days but needed to fly to St. Louis to
complete the rest. Right away this trip was shaping up to be somewhat of a
bummer for me. For one I'd been to St. Louis before and (no offense to those
who live there) it was not one of my favorite cities to spend time in. Also
I was to be teamed with Mark Riley who is perhaps my least favorite
co-worker. He was a crude, obnoxious asshole with a host of disgusting
habits. I often wondered just how he'd managed to get past our firm's
interview board for hiring, that group of senior auditors and managers that
were conservative enough to consider Rush Limbaugh to be a flaming
left-winger.
Another problem was the flight. Our firm has friendly agreements with
several of the airlines and usually we're given premium seats on morning
flights to wherever we're going. This time however, with the short notice of
the trip, all they were able to give us was a flight that left the airport at
8:30 PM and arrived in St. Louis, thanks to the time zone changes, at 2:25 AM.
This would not have been so bad except for the fact that we were expected to
show up promptly at 9:00 AM later that morning to begin work. Oh well, the
firm didn't give a rat's ass if we were fatigued or not; as long as we got our
work done and told the clients what they wanted to hear.
At 8:00 that night, Mark and I, having already checked our bags,
boarded the aircraft and went to our assigned seats. We carried our laptop
computers in our hands and stored them in the overhead bins like good sheep.
As other passengers found their seats around us I listened to my partner
making crude comments on what he would like to do with every attractive woman
(and more than one of the unattractive women) that walked past us. I ignored
his words the best I could though I could not ignore his body odor, which was
drifting over me in waves. Apparently Mark had thought it unnecessary to
take a shower before flying tonight. I sighed, feeling a headache coming on
and bracing myself for an unpleasant flight.
A ray of hope appeared when they sealed up the plane. I looked
around and noted that the aircraft was only about two-thirds full. There
were empty seats everywhere. Surely the flight crew wouldn't mind if I
relocated myself once we were in the air. I could sit blissfully alone,
breathe fresh air, have a few beers, and catch up on some work that needed to
be done on the computer.
"Ohhh God." Mark muttered beside me as a stewardess picked up the
microphone in front of us to begin the pre-flight announcement. "Would you
look at that bitch? Man, I'd love to bend her over her coffee maker and slam
her until her ass bled."
I ignored his comment, not even offering a grunt in reply but I
couldn't help but agree that his basic assessment of the stewardess was
correct. She was a shorthaired brunette with a very pretty face. She filled
out her red uniform nicely. Her waist was trim, her breasts were alluring in
their firmness, and her legs, clad in standard pantyhose, were nicely shaped.
I'd always been a legman and nothing got my motor running like a nice set of
them clad in pantyhose and peeking out beneath a skirt. I looked at her face
again, finding it strangely familiar. I had the impression I'd seen her
somewhere before though I couldn't put my finger on just where. Maybe on
another flight? It was possible, I supposed, but that didn't feel right. Oh
well, it didn't really matter, did it?
As she mechanically droned through the various safety features and
emergency measures, and as she pointed out the emergency exits, her eyes
passed over my face, continued on for a second, and then returned, locking
gazes with me. She stared at me for a moment, seeming to study my face. A
hint of a smile touched her mouth as she chattered. Finally her eyes moved
on.
"That cunt was starin' at me!" Mark barked beside me. "Did you see
that? Shit. I might be addin' me another entry into the mile-high club
tonight."
I'd already gotten the run-down on Mark's alleged sexual trysts
onboard previous aircraft. Mark was one of those guys that had a pussy story
for every occasion. Each more fabulous and unbelievable than the last. He'd
fucked on airplanes, in elevators, in the bedding department of Macy's, on a
train, in a car, in a hot-air balloon, in his cubby at work, at the dentist's
office. He even claimed to have fucked on the observation platform of the
World Trade Center that last time he'd been to New York. I believed his
tales about as much as I believed in Santa Claus.
"Damn, she's a hottie." He said, shaking his head. He turned to me.
"I ever tell you about the time I fucked this cunt AND her daughter at the
same time?"
While he droned on about his imaginary conquest, the stewardess
wrapped up her lecture and took her seat. The plane taxied out to the runway
and shortly we were roaring into the sky, leaving Seattle behind us. I
didn't even look out the window at the view. That would have involved
putting my head closer to Mark and his BO than was prudent.
The second the seat belt lights dinged off, I unbuckled myself and
stood up. "Listen Mark." I said, not bothering to sound sincere. "I'm gonna
go find myself another seat so I can spread out and get some work done."
He nodded wisely. "Good idea." He said. "I got some work to do too."
His work, I knew, would be playing Tomb Raider II on his laptop but
that was not my concern. I reached up, retrieved my laptop, and headed down
the aisle towards the rear of the plane. Near the tail I struck gold, an
entire row of seats that were unoccupied. I looked for belongings that would
indicate an occupant off at the bathroom and saw nothing. I planted myself
at the window seat and unfolded the tray before me, unzipping my computer
case and beginning to set up. Five minutes later I was lost in a boring maze
of financial figures and inventory items.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" A pleasant female voice asked
beside me some time later.
I looked up and saw the stewardess that had given the pre-flight
announcement; the one that had looked familiar to me. Up close I was struck
once again both by her attractiveness and her familiarity. "Sure." I
answered, offering her a weary smile. "I'll take a Heineken."
She reached into her cart and withdrew one of the green cans while I
reached for my money clip. "Do you need a glass?"
"No." I answered, knowing that the 'glass' would actually be a plastic
cup. "The can is fine. This isn't exactly a social occasion."
She smiled, looking into my face again as she named the price. While
I dug out the proper amount I could sense that she was debating whether or
not to say something. Finally, she asked, "I don't suppose that your name is
Jeff Ratling?"
I blinked. "As a matter of fact, it is." I told her. "Do we know
each other?"
Her smile widened. "I THOUGHT it was you." She said warmly. "You
went to Jefferson High School in Bellevue, didn't you?"
That rang a bell. She was someone I'd gone to high school with.
"Yes." I said, peering into her face to try to get a name to go with the
face. Finally it came. "You're Christy...." The last name wouldn't come.
It was something common, like Brown or Smith or White.
"Wilson." She provided. "You DO remember me. Although it's not
Wilson anymore, it's Perkins."
"Ahhh." I said, fully remembering her now. Back in high school she
had been one of the elite. Yearbook committee, Future Republicans club,
Spirit squad, that sort of thing. Though she hadn't been prom queen she had
been a close friend with the girl who HAD been. She had naturally been in
all of the college prep classes, as had I. I however, had not been one of
the elite. I'd been painfully shy back in high school, not even going on an
official date until after graduation. I'd watched her and her friends, the
cream of high school society, drift through those four years and had been
jealous of them. I'd gotten over it of course, as I had my shyness, and gone
on with my life. Christy, I remembered, now that she'd provided me with a
last name, had dated another one of the elite named David Perkins, an
outgoing, personable soul that had been a baseball player. He'd gotten a
scholarship to UCLA I remembered, a baseball scholarship. I couldn't help
but feel a strong surge of gloating at the fact that I was a semi-successful
accountant on my way up the ladder while a member of the elite, who wouldn't
have given me the time of day back in school, was working as a stewardess.
"You must've married David Perkins then." I finished.
Her face soured a little. "Yeah." She nodded. "I did. It didn't
last too long. He played a year at UCLA and then got picked up by the Dodgers
farm team. He hurt his knee the first year and wasn't able to play anymore.
Things went downhill from there. We got divorced but I haven't bothered
changing my name back."
"No kidding?" I asked, suppressing a smile as I cracked open my beer.
"What's he doing these days?"
She shook her head sadly. "He drives a garbage truck for the City of
Tacoma."
"No shit?" I couldn't help but blurt, letting a laugh escape. Mr. All-
American baseball was driving a garbage truck. It was beautiful.
"Well," She offered cynically. "You know how it is?"
"I guess so." I nodded, sipping my beer. "How long have you worked
for the airline?"
"Since the divorce." She told me. "We had to move to Spokane before I
could finish college so I didn't quite get my degree." She brightened. "I'm
still working on it though. Should have it by late next year and then I can
get out of here."
"What's your major?" I asked.
"Accounting." She told me. "I figure that's a good way to get ahead
and I have a knack for numbers. How about you? What are you doing these
days?"
"Well." I told her. "Believe it or not, I'm an accountant."
"Really?"
I nodded. "An auditor. I work for Brentman-Barry. That's why I'm on
the flight tonight. We're going to do the books for one of our clients that
has an office in St. Louis."
"Wow." She said. "That's amazing. Listen, do you mind if I come back
and talk to you for a little after I finish my drink service? I'd love to get
some advice from you since you're in the same field I'm going into."
"Sure." I said, happily. She was, after all, an attractive woman and
I was always on the lookout for one of those. Maybe something would develop
out of this. "I'll give you the whole run-down on the rough and tumble world
of corporate auditing."
She smiled. "Then it's a date." She said, moving off down the aisle
with her drink cart.
As she moved off I wondered if maybe this trip wouldn't be such a
bummer after all.
She came back about twenty minutes later, sitting in the seat next to
me. Her skirt rode upwards a little as she did this, revealing about half of
her thighs to me. They were nice to visualize and I wondered how they would
feel. She noticed me looking at her and smiled as I reluctantly turned my
gaze away. Our conversation was innocent at first. I told her what the
accounting business was like and gave her some pointers on future employment.
She seemed interested in what I had to say. After about ten minutes, she
stood up again.
"I'd better go do my rounds now." She told me, easing back out into
the aisle. "Give me a ring if you need anything." She paused, her gaze
drilling into me. "You know how to push the right button don't you?"
I chuckled, catching her flirtatious remark quite well. "Oh yes." I
assured her. "I'm VERY adept at pushing the right button. In fact, I've been
told that I push the button extremely well at times."
"That's good to know." She told me, smiling. With that she sauntered
off towards the front of the plane. I watched her ass as she retreated. It
was a nice one.
For the next ninety minutes or so we didn't speak much. I continued
with my work but found myself unable to concentrate on it so I eventually
packed up my laptop and stowed it away. I alternated between flipping
through the in-flight magazine and staring out the window towards the
occasional passing lights of some city below. Christy came by twice to get
me new cans of beer, each time offering me warm smiles and idle chitchat with
an occasional flirtatious remark thrown in. I could tell she wanted me to
ask her out; she'd made a point of finding out that I lived in Seattle and
telling me that she did also. I figured I probably would before the flight
was over. After all, I could fulfill two fantasies at once if I succeeded in
laying her; she had been the object of several jack-off fantasies back in
high school AND she was now a stewardess, which I often envisioned boffing
these days. I wondered if I could get her to wear her stewardess outfit if a
relationship developed to that point?
My musings were interrupted by her return. She gave me a knowing
smile as she sat, uninvited, in the seat next to me once again. She looked
as if she knew exactly what I'd been thinking. Hell, she probably did. We
picked up our conversation again. She reminisced about the good old days of
high school fondly. I nodded politely through this. My memories of this
time period weren't so fond.
"You were SO shy back in school." She told me, scrunching down in
the seat a bit, which served to expose a little more of her thighs to my
interested gaze. "What happened to you? You seem so outgoing now."
I shrugged, tearing my eyes away from her legs and looking into her
brown eyes. "I don't know. Nothing dramatic. I guess in college I just
figured out that girls weren't the mysterious entities I used to think they
were. Once I started dating regularly it was like a dam broke, I was
unstoppable." I chuckled. "I guess I became something of a slut."
She laughed. "A slut huh? And what about now?"
"Oh, I've mellowed out some since then. Not that I'm celibate or
anything."
"I certainly HOPE not." She answered, smiling saucily.
"So." I said, after gathering my thoughts together in the wake of her
last statement. "What's your schedule like? Do you stay over in St. Louis?"
She giggled tiredly. "Are you kidding? Did you think this flight
stops in St. Louis? We continue on to Chicago and then Boston. I'll stay
overnight in Boston and then work the return flight back to Seattle."
"Oh." I said, nodding sadly. She had just shot down my hopes of a
little tryst in good old St. Louis. "Well, when's your next free day in
Seattle? Maybe we could, you know, get together and have a little dinner or
something."
She beamed. "That would be nice." She said. "I get back to Seattle
Saturday night and have four days off after that."
"Well how about Saturday then?" I offered. "I'm USUALLY off on
weekends."
"Well," She answered doubtfully. "I'm usually a little tired when I
get back into town. Sunday maybe?"
"Sunday it is." I proclaimed. "How about dinner at Winslow House?"
Winslow house was a romantic restaurant. It was one of my favorite places to
take first dates.
"Oooh." She said approvingly. "That sounds nice. I've never been
there before. Have you?"
"A long time ago." I told her, which was true if you considered two
weeks before to be a long time ago.
We exchanged phone numbers and addresses, made some more idle
chitchat for another five minutes or so and then she left to do her rounds
again. It was another half-hour before she came back. By now, a good
portion of the passengers were either asleep or dozing. The lights had been
turned down and I could hear several snores drifting through the air around
me.
"Ahhh." She said, sinking into the seat. "I like this part of the
flight. Everyone's asleep, I can finally sit down and relax. You wouldn't
believe how sore your feet get doing this for a living."
"Wait'll you sit at a desk all day." I told her. "Then it'll be your
back that's sore all the time." And you'll get hemorrhoids too, but I thought
it might break the mood to mention that just now. "Too bad you're on duty. I
give a great foot massage."
"Screw duty." She said, kicking off her right shoe and planting her
foot in my lap, much to my surprise. It landed about mid thigh. "If you can
massage like you claim, let's feel it."
I regained my composure quickly and reached down to her foot. I began
to rub and knead it firmly through the nylon that covered it, loosening up the
muscles and springing a semi-hard-on in the process. I LOVED the feel of
female flesh encased in nylon. Christy sighed as I did this, keeping her eyes
peeled down the aisle, probably watching for her supervisor who, I imagined,
would most likely frown upon what was taking place.
"You have nice hands." She sighed softly, relaxing more into the
seat.
"Thank you." I said, looking up the length of her leg. Due to the
position that she was in, her legs were spread apart and I was able to see all
the way to the junction of her thighs. I could see the white panties she wore
through the thin layer of nylon. Though I wasn't seeing any bare flesh, I WAS
seeing a forbidden view. This made my semi spring into a full-blown diamond
cutter.
She licked her lips a little and then twisted slightly in her chair.
This brought the foot in my lap closer to my body so that it was resting
against the protrusion of my cock.
"Mmmm." She said, gazing at me. "I guess you really DO like to give
massages. I do too. Take your hands off and I'll show you."
Blushing, and more than a little bit aroused, I removed my hands and
dropped them to my sides. She began moving her foot back and forth in my
crotch, gliding gently over my erection. My breathing quickened as her nylon
clad foot whisked over me. She slid her foot down a little and began running
her toes up and down.
"You like this kind of massage?" She asked seductively.
"Oh yeah." I nodded, closing my eyes.
"Me too." She said. "I'm getting all wet just doing it." She looked
around the cabin for a moment, saw nobody paying undue attention to us, and
then hiked up her skirt to her waist. She slid her left hand under the top of
her pantyhose. I saw it disappear beneath her panties, right into her crotch.
She rubbed up and down a few times, sighing as she did so, and then withdrew
it. She leaned forward, putting her fingers beneath my nose.
I could smell the scent of her on her fingers. The musty, fresh odor
of an aroused pussy. She slid the fingers between my lips and I sucked on
them, tasting her nectar. It was tart and very pleasant. My arousal became
frantic. I began gliding my hands up and down the silky smoothness of her
legs.
Abruptly, she withdrew from me, making me groan my displeasure. She
smiled, licking her lips again. "You know," She said quietly. "You've been
drinking beer. Don't you have to go to the bathroom?"
I didn't actually. I'd emptied my bladder about fifteen minutes
before. But I wasn't a fool either. "Uh, yes." I said, nodding. "I think I
do."
"Go to the one at the very back of the plane." She said. "The left
one. It's the nicest bathroom on the whole plane." She winked, standing up.
"It might say it's occupied when you get there. That's a little problem it
has. Knock first and maybe the door will open."
I nodded, speechless, my motor really running now. She headed off
towards the rear of the plane.
I gave her a minute and then stood up. My jeans, I saw, were bulging
outward noticeably. Embarrassed, I looked around at my fellow passengers.
Most of them were asleep. Those that weren't were not paying the least bit
of attention to me. I walked quickly towards the tail until I came to the
bathroom stalls of which she spoke. The left one had the "occupied" light
illuminated. I took a quick glance around and then knocked softly on the
door.
I heard the lock turn and then the door creaked slowly open about
halfway. Since the light had gone out when the door lock had been
disengaged, I could only make out the silhouette of Christy inside. Her hand
reached out and grabbed my shirt, pulling me into the stall. It was cramped
in there, forcing us to stand chest to chest, not exactly an unpleasant
situation. She shut the door and engaged the lock again, turning on the
lights. She was smiling at me, staring into my eyes. She held up her left
hand, which was holding her pantyhose and panties. She pushed the crotch of
them up against my face, overwhelming me with her scent.
"Do you see what you've done to me?" She whispered. "You've gotten me
all wet." Her hand dropped to my crotch and unbuttoned my jeans. Her fingers
snaked into my underwear, grasping me, making me groan.
I put my arms around her, pulling her to me, attaching my mouth to
hers. Her tongue poked out, seeking mine and we kissed wetly, obscenely.
While she continued to fondle me, I allowed my hands to slide down her back to
her ass. I pulled up the back of her skirt and placed my palms on her bare
cheeks. They were firm and warm. I kneaded them roughly. She seemed to like
this, her breathing quickened and her fondling hand began to squeeze harder.
I pulled my crotch back a little, opening up some space between us
and then slid my left hand around to the front, gliding it over the soft
flesh of her outer and then inner thigh, finally coming to her pussy. I
dipped my fingers in, gasping as I felt bare flesh around her soaked vaginal
lips. I began to finger-fuck her, putting first one and then two fingers
into her body. Her pelvis thrust back at me as I did this. She unlocked her
mouth from mine and then began sucking and licking my neck, my ears.
She pulled her hand out of my underwear and then pushed my jeans and
underwear down, baring my cock. She looked down at it, whistling
appreciatively, jacking it a few times before pushing me backwards and
dropping to her knees before me. She sucked me into her mouth, her hands
coming up to grasp my ass cheeks. I was forced to lean back against the wall
behind me to keep from falling down. Christy was a great cocksucker. She
bobbed up and down, taking my entire length into her mouth, swirling her
tongue around, sucking gently. She took one hand off of my ass and began to
fondle my balls gently. Her mouth made raunchy slurping noises as she blew
me and I could feel her drool dribbling down my shaft.
She sucked me for another minute or so and then removed her mouth. She
stood up, her face flushed with arousal, her chest heaving with her
respiration. She backed up a step and then pulled herself to a sitting
position on the sink, opening her legs widely. Her pussy was a work of art.
She'd shaved all around the lips, leaving only a rectangular strip of black
pubic hair above. Her lips were swollen and puffy, inflamed, nearly dripping
with her secretions. Her clit was poking out invitingly. It was perhaps the
most beautiful pussy I'd ever seen in the flesh.
I couldn't resist. I grabbed her legs and buried my face between them,
plunging my tongue between her lips. Her legs wrapped around my back and she
emitted an almost feline squeal when I gently took her clit in my mouth and
sucked it like it was a nipple. Her pelvis thrust uncontrollably into my
face. Just as I was getting started, however, I felt her hands in my armpits,
pulling upward on me.
Reluctantly, I stood up, leaving her pussy behind.
"We don't have that much time." She panted. "I need you to fuck me. C'mon,
put it in and fuck me. Please?"
I began to move my cock forward and then stopped. "What about," I asked.
"You know, protection?"
"I'm on the pill." She said. "And I don't have AIDS or anything. I promise.
And I trust you don't either."
I looked at her for a moment. Part of me was saying that I barely knew this
woman and to have unprotected sex with her was madness in this day and age.
How did I know she was REALLY on the pill? How did I know she REALLY didn't
have AIDS? Or gonorrhea? Or syphilis? Or crabs? But that part of me
apparently wasn't looking at her engorged, inviting pussy that was only inches
away from my straining cock. That part of me lost the battle without even a
fight.
I leaned forward and touched the head of my cock to her warm, wet lips. I
grabbed her asscheeks while her legs wrapped around my waist. I pulled her
to me, sinking all the way to the hilt inside of her. She was tight, much
tighter than I'd expected. I sighed in ecstasy. There is absolutely nothing
in the world that feels better than the first plunge into a wet, tight pussy.
And when you're doing it in a forbidden place, like the bathroom of an
airliner at 35,000 feet, with sleeping passengers just outside the door, the
sensation is tripled.
Our mouths locked together again as I began to thrust in and out of her.
There was no slow build-up to this copulation, I began slamming her
immediately. Our pubic bones mashed together as we thrust frantically
against each other. I felt her flexing her vaginal muscles rhythmically,
squeezing my cock on each in- thrust. In and out I moved, picking up speed,
sweat forming on my brow. The rich smell of sex filled the air around us
along with the squelchy, squishing sound of cock and pussy in union.
"Oh God." She moaned, her thrusts increasing, her fingernails digging into
my back. "Yes.' She cried softly, with restraint. "You're making me come.
Keep it up."
I redoubled my efforts, picking up the pace. I could feel the tingle of my
own approaching orgasm and hoped she would be quick about having hers. She
buried her face in the hollow of my shoulder, her body tensing up, her
vaginal muscles squeezing me almost painfully. She squealed against my skin
as orgasm overtook her.
I was only moments behind her. My own thrusts became erratic and out of
control. I squeezed her ass cheeks together and felt waves of pleasure
shooting through my body.
"Yes." She panted, kissing my neck again. "Come in me. Come in me."
"Ohhhh." I groaned, feeling the spasms start. It was one of the most
powerful orgasms I'd ever experienced. My cock began unloading shot after
shot of hot sperm into her gulping pussy. It seemed to go on forever but
finally my thrusts slowed down and stopped.
We exchanged a warm tongue kiss as I withdrew myself from her, and then we
looked in each other's eyes.
"That was absolutely incredible." She told me breathlessly.
I nodded, "Yeah." Not very profound a statement, I know, but I was on
overload.
She swallowed nervously. "I can't believe we actually did that." She said.
"I hope nobody missed me. You better get back to your seat while I clean
myself up."
"Okay." I said, reaching down to pull up my pants.
We exchanged a last kiss and then I unlocked the door, easing it open. I
expected to see a group of passengers and angry stewardesses outside. Was it
illegal to do what we just did? I wasn't sure but I was fairly certain that
Christy had violated an airline rule. But there was nobody there. I stepped
out into the aisle and the door shut behind me, the "occupied" light coming
back on.
I took a deep breath, wondering how I smelled, and then walked as nonchalantly
as possible back to my seat. Nobody paid me any undue attention.
Christy walked by me about five minutes later. Her pantyhose were back in
place and she looked perfectly normal to my eyes. She shot me a smile as she
passed, but didn't speak to me. About ten minutes after that, she came back,
carrying a fresh can of beer in her hands.
"This one's on me." She said, handing it over and sitting down in the seat.
"Thanks." I said, cracking it open, though I knew it was a bad idea to have
a beer this late when I had to work tomorrow. It would, however, change the
odor of my breath so I wasn't breathing pussy smell on everyone I talked to.
"Listen." She said, seemingly embarrassed now. "I know you probably think
I'm a slut."
"Not at all." I answered, though that is exactly what I was thinking, and not
in a bad way either.
"I'm not." She continued. "I really don't do things like that. When I date
someone I NEVER sleep with them on the first date. I'm usually very
respectable."
I nodded, keeping my mouth prudently shut.
"But you see," She said. "What we just did has always been a fantasy of
mine." She giggled. "Almost an obsession. I'd never been able to do it
before though. I didn't want to just pick up a stranger on the airplane and
take him to the bathroom. When I saw you on the plane though, and when we
started to hit it off a little." She shrugged. "I guess I just decided that
this was a good opportunity. I mean, we were going to go out on a date, we
seemed to like each other, and we probably would have ended up sleeping
together at some point in the future, right?"
"I suppose we would have." I nodded.
"So what's wrong with just skipping all the slow build-up crap once in a while
and just getting right to what we both know is the main purpose of a dating
relationship anyway?"
She had me there. "You make a good point." I told her. "I wish all women
thought that way."
"So I hope you don't think ill of me." She concluded.
"Not at all."
"And we can still go out on Sunday?"
"You bet."
"Great." She smiled. "I really do think we might hit it off. You know, in
more than a sexual way."
We didn't talk much the rest of the flight. I fell asleep shortly after this
conversation and didn't wake up until we were descending into St. Louis. As I
exited the plane she was standing at the door.
"I hope you enjoyed your flight." She said, her eyes twinkling.
"Oh, I did."