Flight Plan

Stepping out of the pouring rain into the terminal, Allison looked immediately for a restroom where she could try to get her hair under control. Her trip had been a disaster and now the pouring rain just added to her fun. Any dreams of a romantic getaway with Eric had dissolved two days ago, but now, when she finally convinced herself she was so much better than all his games, she knew the pouring rain turned her hair into an absolute bird's nest.

Her high heels clicked loudly on the terrazzo floor as she carefully maneuvered though the ladies room door and stepped into the spacious restroom. Ignoring the toilet stalls she turned to the mirrors and confirmed her worst suspicion. The tight, black curls she spent hours preparing, first to impress Eric and then all too soon to simply impress some attractive stranger, had frizzed out to look like some sort of an unbalanced afro.

She knew that dragging her comb through the matted mess would be impossible, and she quickly learned that it was hopeless to try anything with her brush. Finally she pulled out a hair band, raked her fingers through the damp curls and did her best to tie it all up into something that resembled some sort of style.

"The rain is a real bastard isn't it?"

Glancing into the mirror, she spotted a short woman, with a mass of frizzy red hair. "Oh yeah, it's just the perfect ending to a terrific weekend."

"Bad trip?"

"The worst."

"Let me guess, there's a guy involved."

"If you can call him that... let's just say the rain is the lesser bastard."

"It hurts?" she red-head asked, stepping up to sink and washing her hands.

"You know, not really, I just finally realized what a rut I'd let myself fall into. It just took this 'romantic' weekend for me to see what I was doing."

"Not much in bed was he?"

Allison silently stared into the reflection of the woman's eyes, wondering, do I really want to all this. The two women held each other's gaze for a few uncomfortable moments when the red-head smiled a bit and tilted her head to the side.

"Look if you don't..."

"No, no it's not that, it's just I don't even know your name."

"Carolyn, Carolyn Bern," she said with a slight, mock curtsy

"Hi, I'm Allison, Allison Obi," she reached out her hand, noticing how very dark her skin looked against Carolyn's pale freckled complexion. "And actually, he was very good in bed, but he was one of those who knew he was good."

"Ah, God's gift..."

"Exactly! Smug bastard."

"Well, at least you got a good..."

Allison answered by slowly shaking her head from side to side. "No, it didn't even get to that, thank God. I at least preserved the pleasure of watching his cock wilt as I walked to the door."

"Ah, what a bitch, I love it."

"Yeah, but damn, now I'm so fucking wired."

"Ready to jump the next live one?"

"Hell, the baggage claim guy caught my eye."

"That big, old guy."

"Yeah, he bent over to grab a bag and..."

"Plumber's crack?"

Allison smiled slyly and nodded her head. There was a moment of silence and both women simultaneously began, "Ewwwww."

"Oh you've got it bad," Carolyn said, giggling.

"Real bad."

Another woman walked into the restroom and headed toward a stall. Carolyn grabbed Allison's hand and gently tugged, leaning to her and whispering, "Come on and I'll tell you what I do when it's real bad."

Carolyn pushed the large metal door open and the two women walked back out into the terminal. Glancing up at a clock, Carolyn whispered, "Oh, my flight's leaving in a bit, but come sit over here, I'll make it quick."

They both settled into some nearby chairs and Carolyn began, "You see, I travel a lot, and I'll hook up with someone here and there, but most times I just slide into a city, go to meetings, have dinner and then return to my room. After a bit of TV, I'll read for a bit and then go to sleep."

Allison nodded, remembering some of her business trips.

"Ah, you know the story then, I'm a world traveler, all I see is the inside of airports." Sliding closer to Allison she then leaned and whispered softly, "Well, that's where I let the fun begin. Rather than lust after the baggage guy, though he was kind of cute in a pudgy sort of way," she said with a slight giggle, "I go find where flights are arriving from some exotic location. I'll find a dark corner where I can see the people coming off the plane, I settle in and watch the guys emerge."

"But doesn't that make it worse, doesn't it just drive you crazy fantasizing about all these guys with out any relief."

"Who said anything about NO relief."

"You mean..."

Carolyn smiled, nodding her head, "You see, I'm not sure if it works for everyone, but, if I sit, with my legs crossed, kind of like this," she crossed her legs at the thighs and then hooked her ankles, "and then swing my ankles like," unhooking her ankles, she gently swung it back and forth.

"And..."

"Well, I watch the guys come off the plane, quickly give them a rating from one to five. Once I do that, I'll swing my leg accordingly. In other words, a guy a rate a five, I'll swing my leg five times, a four gets for swings and so on and so on. Before long I'm cumming all by myself."

"Right there in the airport?"

"Right there in the airport. But I don't let it finish then, as soon as I gain my composure, I grab my stuff and make it a point to find the guy and say something to him, maybe just a sexy 'Hello', other times I'll have a conversation. It's kind of the topper to the fantasy."

"Wow, and you cross your legs..."

"Yeah, just like that. I don't know if it will work for all girls, but wow, it works for me. Oh my, I've got to run, don't want to miss my flight" Carolyn said grabbing her stuff.

"But, how can I get in touch with you?"

Grabbing a piece of paper Carolyn quickly jotted something down. "Here's my email," she said, handing the paper to Allison.

Allison quickly stood up and hugged Carolyn, then watched as her new friend turned and walked toward security. Intrigued by their intimate conversation, she then grabbed her bags and headed over to the small row of monitors labeled "Arrivals." Rifling through her purse, she found a pad and pen and began working on her list... no, not list, her... her... her flight plan.

Glancing over at the departures screen, she confirmed she still had a couple of hours before her flight was scheduled to leave, and then she began reviewing the possibilities. Although her choices were limited she worked her list down to two possibilities. There was a flight from Houston arriving in about fifteen minutes and one arriving in about ten minutes from Cancun.

Heading toward security, she mulled over the possibilities: Houston, oil men, wildcatters, elderly businessmen? Or Cancun, suntanned vacationers, honeymooners... hmm, luring a groom from his new wife, ah, that sounded fun. By the time she reached the front of the security line and pulled off her shoes and jacket, she had herself pretty worked up. Glancing down at her blouse she could clearly see her nipples jutting pertly though the thin material of her blouse.

Allison then looked up and saw that the security lady also noticed her nipples. Shrugging and crossing her arms she whispered, "It's freezing in here." The security lady nodded knowingly, checked her boarding pass and motioned for her to pass. Allison grabbed her jacket and bags and quickly headed toward the gate, where she noticed the gate personnel preparing for the arrival from Cancun.

She scanned the seating possibilities, found an empty row of seats toward the back corner of the gate area and headed to the seats. Placing her bags and jacket on one seat, she sat down and immediately crossed her legs. She hooked her ankles and flexed her thigh muscles a bit, but didn't really feel much of a sensation. After arranging and rearranging herself she was able to swing one of her legs and feel a slight tingling in her clit. Immediately she turned her attention to the passengers coming through the doors.

Though the delicious sensations floating though her clit, she began to notice that the passengers leaving the gate area weren't vacationers and honeymooners returning from paradise, they were a bit scruffier, walking slowly as if exhausted. Many of the guys were sturdy, construction type guys. Hmm... imagining the rough hands of a carpenter slowly kneading her ass as he drives his cock into her, she counted off, five squeezes for that guy, four... no five for him too.

Her breathing sped up and she could see her nipples pressing against her blouse, she felt herself warming up, but she needed a bit more, a more direct sensation. She imagined a concrete finisher stroking his hands in slow circles over her body, and though she seemed to get closer and closer, she needed more. She envisioned a painter, his tongue lightly brushing over her nipples, then sliding downward, leaving a sparkling trail painted over her stomach.

There had to be a way... something... then looking at her jacket, she knew what she had to do. She reached over, grabbed her jacket and arranged it over her lap. Unbuttoning her pants, she slipped her hand under the pants, then under the pink, elastic waistband of her panties. Dipping her middle finger into her, now soaking wet pussy, she moved it upward and began circling it over her firm clit. Now, here was a sensation she could build on.

She looked up and ah, yes, he must be a plumber, "Imagine the size of his pipe," she thought, fighting back a giggle. Yeah, imagining him plumbing her depths, she began working her clit more and more furiously, watching the short, stout man walking into the terminal, his ass tight in the jeans. Suddenly, yes... yes... the intense sensation flowed though her, she felt her cunt squeezing against an imagined cock, her juices flowing out onto his balls and the warm spurt as he filled her with that liquid bit of himself.

Allison squeezed her legs shut and closed her eyes, absorbing every last sensation as her climax slowly drained away. Opening her eyes to find the plumber again, she couldn't see him. Quickly buttoning her pants, she stood up, but he was long gone. Wondering how Carolyn got herself together quick enough to chase down her imagined lover, she straightened up her clothing, picked up her bag and jacket and headed toward her gate.

On the way toward the gate, she noticed a last group of people leaving the flight from Cancun. Each of them had on white tee shirts with "Hurricane Relief" printed in bright red letters over the chest. "No wonder," she said to herself, realizing these tired construction and relief workers were returning from what was left of Cancun.

Glancing at her watch, she saw she only had had a short time before her plane began to board. Disappointed she didn't get a chance to talk to one or two of the guys, she sat down and pulled her calendar out of her purse, carefully reviewing the dates. She began considering her next trip and more importantly, her next "flight plan."