She is waiting for me to answer her it seems. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you ask me something?” I smile apologetically.
“Are you headed to LaGuardia at 9:15am?”
“I am” I reply, looking over at the check-in desk. It now says Miami 9:55am. “Hmm. Maybe they made a mistake. I haven’t heard an announcement.”
“Well, I wouldn’t hold your breath. They do this to me all the time.” She pulls up her phone and starts typing. “I haven’t even had my coffee yet, and now I worry that I’ll have to walk all the way there, and then go elsewhere”.
I’m already bored with her. She is beautiful but starting to get on my nerves. I look at her and say “Well, I’m happy to watch your bags for you while you get your coffee.” She politely declines and sits down a few seats away. It’s only us in the lounge.
She makes a phone call, which I can’t help but overhear. First one child “If you don’t stop crying, I won’t go to American Girl for you…”. Then the other: “It’s okay to get questions wrong on your test. You didn’t get a perfect score on your math test, and everything was okay – right?” Finally, her husband: “Please don’t yell at the kids….I’ve only been gone 2 hours and you are already starting?”
I tune her out, annoyed. A few minutes later, after a conversation with the agent, she strolls over to tell me our gate has been changed. We start walking towards the new gate together, making small talk. She works for a global call center. On a plane every week, different locations. 2 kids. Second marriage. Lives in the suburbs.
She learns about me. Small business consultant, a fixer. Traveling to New York weekly for a couple of months. Married wtih 2 kids and live in the city.
As we talk, she gets more interesting. Funnier. Her smile is electric, and she has a sharp sense of humor too.
She asks me where I’m staying. In SoHo. “Me too!”. We swap hotel stories and talk in detail about the best lobby bars.
Then our flight is called. We line up together and board. She is 8 rows behind me. Just like that, it’s over. I didn’t even get her name. I sit down and immediately start fantasizing of what could have been. I know I’m kidding myself. I’ve been faithfully married for over a dozen years but it’s nice to fantasize.
I think about how she was leaning over to speak with me in the lounge, allowing me a peak down her top. She caught me looking once but didn’t flinch. I’m sure I blushed a little. Before I know it, the flight is over. I shuffle off the plane and head for the taxi stand, casually looking over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of her – but no luck.
As I’m in line for my taxi, I get a tap on the shoulder. “Hey you” she says. “It was really great to meet you. I hope your trip goes well. I also wanted to get your card, as I might have a client for you”. I fumble into my briefcase and hand her a card. She winks and then she’s gone.
Throughout my day, I’m distracted. She is on my mind. She has my card but I still don’t even know her name. I run the whole situation over in my head again and again. If I had game I would have asked her for a drink. If I was on top of it, I would have at least asked her name.
At about 6pm, as I’m heading out of the office, my phone buzzes.
– Hi TJ! Meet me for a drink at the Mondrian lobby bar at 7?
– Sure. Sounds good. I respond. My heart pounding.
The next hour passes like an itch. I pack up and head to my hotel to get changed and clean up. I have no idea what I’m getting myself into. I’m very likely reading the whole situation wrong. I head to the bar for a quick drink to ease my nerves, then off to the Mondrian. When I arrive, she isn’t there. I order a Manhattan and settle in to a high-top.
A few minutes later, she walks in. Dark jeans, high heels and a sheer gray, loose tank top. Her necklace hangs into the open scoop, sitting on the swell of her breasts. She is tall and has a beautiful, natural sway to her walk. Her light blonde hair is still tied up in a ponytail, which is bouncing behind her. I drink her in and she lets me, looking to the side of the room as she approaches.
She slides up to the table and flashes her gorgeous white smile. She smells fresh. She looks confident, but I can see she is flushed. I tell her how nice she looks and she jabs that I might be suggesting that she didn’t look nice earlier in the day. I return with the suggestion that we might not be here having a drink if she hadn’t, to which she gives me a shy smile.
She orders a Martini – I like her even more now. We clink glasses, and begin to talk openly about family, work, and all points in between. I wonder if I have misread the situation, or if talking about what is waiting at home for us gives us each an escape plan – should we need it. We order another drink and I can see she is starting to glow. I suspect that she might have also had an early drink or two…
The conversation leans towards old boyfriends and girlfriends, and the reckless days before we had kids. When she laughs, she throws her head back. When she is telling me something off-color, she touches my arm. Finally, the conversation slows down. My mind is starting to wander, like my eyes and I suspect she might have other thoughts on her mind too. When the waiter comes to offer us another drink, we both reluctantly agree that we have had enough.
Now what.
The waiter brings the bill, and she insists on paying. She writes her room number down in large digits: 1947. There it is. She settles up with the waiter, and we linger. The last few sips.
Finally, I muster up the courage to ask her, “What would you like to do?”
She chuckles and looks at her lap. “What would I like to do, or what should I do?” she responds.
“Well, how about we start with what you want,” I suggest.
She stares into my eyes, giving me a lusty look. I can see her neck going red. She digs into her purse and pulls out a room key. She slides the card across the table and says, “1947. Give me a few minutes to freshen up”. Then she turns and walks into the lobby.
Holy shit. My heart is racing and my mind is reeling. I can’t believe that actually happened. I’m excited and nervous all at once. Should I? Shouldn’t I? What if it’s some kind of trap? I walk into the lobby and pace. How long do I give her? Do I knock? I decide 10 minutes is long enough, so I head up in the elevator. I arrive at her door. 1947.
I slip the card into the door and open it slowly. I poke my head in to see her sitting on the bed, in a white robe, with the TV on. She looks at me. I can see her chest rising, even though she is looking so casual.
She clicks the TV off and comes to the door to meet me. I close it behind me.
I start to say something but she walks right up, wraps her arms around my neck, and draws me in for a deep kiss. My hands move to her hips to pull her closer. The kiss is deep and passionate. It feels like a release of all the built-up tension of getting to this point, to this moment: when it changed from ‘if’ to ‘is’.
We kiss deeply and she grinds herself against me. Our chests rising with our heavy breath. Our tongues fill each others’ mouth, wanting more. She lets out a gentle moan as I slide my hands over her ass and pull her harder against my pulsing shaft.
I slide my hand up her side, to the swell of her breast. She breaks our kiss and steps back. “Wait,” she says. Her heavy breath through a sideways smirk. She steps back again and looks down to the sash of her robe, opening it and letting the robe drop to the floor. Her white thong and white lacy push-up bra are a beautiful contrast to her tanned skin. She is lean, strong and well-manicured. Clearly crafted and maintained with the utmost of care.
She looks up into my eyes as I’m drinking her in. “You like?” I nod, with a hungry look. I want it all off and I step forward to make it happen. She puts her hand on my chest, “Not so fast. It’s my turn”.
She steps in and begins to unbutton my shirt. With each button she kisses and sucks on my chest. She un-tucks my shirt and spreads it open, locking her lips on my nipple. I flinch when she takes it between her teeth. Her hands wander down and rub my shaft through my pants. I groan as she squeezes her fingers around my pulsing cock. She tugs at my belt while working my shaft with her other hand.
She pops my button and unzips my fly, then slips her hand under the elastic of my boxers.
“Mmmm…you like that?” She teases as she bites my lower lip. “I’ve been waiting all day to taste you,” she says, as she slides down to her knees, running her fingernails along my chest, and taking my boxers down with her.
I roll my head back and lean against the door as I feel her hot breath on my cock. Her left hand rubs my scrotum roughly, pushing my balls backward and sliding her fingers along my perineum. Her right hand lifts my shaft as she runs her tongue along the nerve bundle just below my head. She definitely knows what she is doing.
She licks my cock like a lollipop. Squeezing my shaft between her fingers, she lets my head pop in and out of her lips. She is playing with me. Her fingers are sliding further back towards my ass. She is making me squirm, and she is enjoying it. Finally, she slides my cock deep into her hot, wet mouth. I let out a low moan and run my fingers through her hair, pushing myself deeper into her. She places one hand on the front of my hip and lets the other hand play with my undercarriage. Her pace quickens and she can tell I’m getting closer.
I push her away in protest, “I don’t want to come yet.”
“I”m not stopping until you do,” she says, pushing my hand away and returning to my cock with a purpose.
Her head is bobbing up and down on my cock, and I can feel her tongue pushing up against the underside of my shaft. As I start to reach climax, my fingers dig deeper into her hair. She pulls herself off and strokes my wet shaft slowly, pushing it up against my stomach. She then takes my balls into my mouth and sucks. The pleasure is mixed with almost too much pain, and I wince as she draws them deeper into her mouth. She looks up at me, her eyes smiling, and sucks my balls in deeper.
She has full control of me now and suddenly I realize why. Her other hand begins to slide back toward my ass. Her finger slips up between my cheeks and against my hole. I try to shift away but she has me locked down with her mouth. My eyes must have grown 3 times as she pushes her finger against my knot. The sensation is so….different. The pleasure mixed with the pain, the arousal mixed with the embarrassment. It’s all new. Her other hand begins to slowly stroke my shaft once more, and I find myself grinding my hips in her hands. I close my eyes and let my head roll back.
After what feels like a lifetime, she returns my cock to her mouth and takes my shaft back between her teeth. It feels like heaven and sends waves of pleasure through my body. I groan as I began to reach climax. She pushes her finger deeper into me and squeezes my balls while her mouth sucks furiously. As I explode into her mouth, she deftly applies more pressure with her hands, sending me through the roof. My legs buckle and I brace myself against the door.
When I finally come down, she sits back on her knees, wipes her chin, smile at me and says,”Ready to get started?”