She was the Captain

Rick boarded the first leg of his flight back to Houston, Texas at a quarter to five in the evening on Monday, the day after the Indianapolis 500. The Indianapolis International Airport was swarming with exuberant Indy 500 fans from all over the world preparing for their journey home. It was easy to spot race fans, for most were now donning 500 T-shirts, hats and various other articles of clothing or accessory souvenirs they had purchased at the Speedway the day before. Rick took his seat in the emergency exit row of the Boeing 737-700 series aircraft, directly over the starboard wing. Standing nearly six foot four inches tall with a toned, muscular frame of nearly two hundred and thirty pounds, Rick was a formidable man and was immensely grateful for the extra leg room that the emergency exit row seat by the window afforded him. Unlike previous years, the seat beside him was not occupied by his wife, or rather now, his ex-wife, Wendy. Rick and Wendy had spent six very turbulent years together in marital hell. Though Rick loved Wendy deeply; probably much more than she loved him, he could no longer endure Wendy's emotional distance and unavailability. Their sex life, if you could even call it that had become extremely stale and passionless and Wendy was virtually incapable of intimacy. Finally by last July, Rick no longer had the emotional stamina to continue enduring their miserable existence any further. So, for the first time in his life, Rick had come to the "Greatest Spectacle in Racing" by himself; and even though he had been surrounded by nearly five hundred thousand people on race day, he still felt utterly alone.

Rick's flight took off from Indianapolis exactly on-time at five-fifteen pm Eastern Time bound for Nashville. Rick would have about a two and a half hour lay over at the Nashville Airport before his connecting flight to Houston Hobby Airport departed at five after eight. The flying time from Indianapolis to Nashville was about an hour and ten minutes, but this evening, it seemed agonizingly longer due to the individual that faith had selected to seat next to Rick. When she first sat down, Rick had high hopes of a very pleasant flight, for the young lady was gorgeous. But, no sooner did Rick smile and say hello to her, did he get a face full of breath that reeked of vodka. Even though Rick had not had a drink of alcohol in nearly twelve years, he had no difficultly in associating with people, particularly women who still partook of the grapes; especially if she was this attractive. But this young lady's attractiveness fled the moment she opened her mouth, and then never shut it the entire duration of the flight. After the tenth or so time of explaining why the Indianapolis Motor Speedway was known as the Old Brickyard, was because the entire race track itself had once been made completely of bricks, Rick would have much preferred opening the emergency exit door at thirty-eight thousand feet and stepping out on the wing for a breath of no air than continue to talk to her. The landing gear brushed the Nashville tarmac at five-twenty pm central time and thanks to the grace of too much Smirnoff vodka, Rick's polluted seating companion had fallen silent in a passed out slumber. Once the aircraft came to a stop at the gate, Rick picked up his carry-on, squeezed past Sleeping Beauty in the middle seat and deplaned.

As Rick strode out of the jet way and into the airport terminal, he observed the large body of people already lining up to board the continuation of the flight he was leaving. He pitied the poor soul who would be taking over his seat. Continuing out of the boarding area and into the main corridor of the concourse, Rick checked the flight arrival and departure monitors to find out where his connecting flight would be gated. Being that departure time was still well over two hours away, he soon discovered that his flight wasn't even posted yet. Checking his watch, Rick's focus immediately turned to finding the location of the nearest restroom. Heading up the concourse with his carry-on bag slung over his shoulder, Rick's eyes surveyed the hoards of bustling holiday weekend travelers moving up and down the concourse. As a bartender by profession, Rick loved watching people and had a keen ear for honing in and eavesdropping on discussions from a distance. With a sudden break in the flow of human traffic along the concourse, Rick spotted the men's room about fifty feet ahead and to the left.

As his eyes returned front and center, Rick found himself directly in the on coming path of a woman in a pilot's uniform; their eyes met as they approached each other. She was half Rick's height at the least, probably around five foot six possibly seven; her hair was dark brown, long and wavy as it draped down to just above the tops of her shoulder blades. Her face was narrow with high cheek bones, an adorable button nose and her eyes were a crystal clear shade of sky blue. Her skin was a very faint shade of egg shell pink, smooth and creamy. Her neck was long, lean and sleek; accentuated by the navy blue crossover tie around it. Her arms too were long and lean, appearing like beautiful willow branches draping down out of her short sleeve uniform shirt. Her hands were a touch on the boney side, but a loose fitting golden watch beautified her slender wrist and the fire red fingernails on the tips of her long fingers made her hands appear sinfully sexy. She wasn't a hard body by any means, but it was wonderfully proportional to her height and weight and the navy blue slacks of her uniform made her overall figure appear deliciously voluptuous. Her breasts appeared, at least to Rick's eye, to be a perfectly scrumptious pair of C-cups under her bright white uniform shirt, and the navy blue patch on each of her shoulders proudly showed off the four white rank bars of a Captain.

Rick's eyes remained locked on this woman, almost captivated by her; and unless he was kidding himself, she seemed equally captured by him too. As they drew nearer to each other, she altered her course just slightly out of Rick's direct path, pulling her bags and catalog case behind her, but never once taking her eyes off him. Her pouting lips, covered in a dark crimson lipstick opened and she beamed a pristine white and sparkling smile at Rick.

"Good evening." She said in a soft and sensual voice. "Been to the race, I see."

"Yeah. How'd you know? Rick asked.

"Your T-shirt." She said, almost giggling.

"Oh. Yeah." Rick said.

Rick stopped suddenly in the middle of the concourse and looked down at his T-shirt. He hadn't bought an Indy 500 T-shirt since he was a kid, but this years' was of a design that he just couldn't pass up. As the verbal exchange passed between them, neither Rick nor the lovely lady pilot had stopped moving until her comment about his being at the race grounded him to a surprised halt. At that instant, Rick caught a heavenly fragrance of sweet peach and vanilla off of her as she passed by. He quickly looked behind him to see the lovely lady pilot continuing on down the concourse. He had only a split second to check out the backside of her body before he realized that she was glancing back over her shoulder at him. Their eyes met one more time and the lovely lady pilot turned her head quickly away. Rick could have sworn that he saw her blush. Turning away from her and looking forward again, Rick shook his head and ran a hand through his thick sandy blonde hair. Exhaling deeply, he continued on to the men's room, all the while, images of that captivating lady captain dancing in his mind; not to mention the delightful smell of her to go with them. Stepping up to the urinal and unbuttoning his Levi 501 blue jeans, Rick was suddenly surprised to find his cock was rock hard.

Holding his nearly seven and a half inch rod in his hand, Rick closed his eyes and focused on mental images of his previous flights' seat companion as she vomited in the air sickness bag. He remembered the awful stench that filled the air, as well as the gagging and phlegm-filled coughing and he could feel himself begin to limp. But suddenly, the lovely lady pilot again appeared in his mind as her delicious scent of sweet peach and vanilla filled his nose, and his cock was immediately blue steel again. Really having to pee, Rick glanced cautiously to his right and caught a glimpse of a morbidly obese man in a cowboy hat with a beet red face, sunglasses, breathing heavily and his clothing all being two sizes too small for his immense body, reeking of cigar smoke and beer. The man belched, farted and then spit a disgusting wad of chew into the urinal before him. Rick's cock instantly fell limp and the urine flowed freely and warmly. Once business was taken care of, Rick washed his hands, ran a brush through his hair, slung the strap of his carry-on over his shoulder and headed out of the men's room. With his mind returning once more to the lovely lady pilot, Rick came out of the men's room and spun quick to his left. Instantly, the sweet aroma of sweet peach and vanilla flooded his nostrils and in a blurry whirlwind of activity, his arms reflexively went up and his hands where suddenly filled with the softness of a woman's arms.

Getting his bearings now, Rick found his hands firmly wrapped around the triceps of the lovely lady pilot. He had instinctively thrown his arms up as the fast moving blur of a person materialized out of nowhere directly in front of him as he exited the men's room. Exhaling deeply, Rick's eyes once again met the crystal clear sky blue eyes of the lovely lady pilot.

"Oh my God." She said. "I am so sorry."

"No, it was my fault." Rick chuckled. "My mind was a million miles away. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said. "You?"

"Never better." Rick replied.

Rick was again captivated deeply by her eyes and just couldn't break free of them.

"Good." She said. "Then can I have my arms back?"

It took a few more milliseconds, but her request finally filtered into his mind and Rick suddenly realized that his hands where still holding her arms.

"Oh!" Rick blurted. "I'm sorry."

Rick released her and took a step back, repositioning the strap of his carry-on bag on his shoulder.

"Not a problem." She said as she smiled. "Not a problem at all."

The lovely lady pilot took hold of her wheeled flight case and luggage then proceeded on toward the ladies room just ahead. Rick's head swiveled around and followed her with his eyes running slowly up and down her body. As she rounded the entrance into the ladies room, her head turned back toward him and their eyes met once again. Rick felt his face flush, but he smiled none the less. As she disappeared around the corner, she smiled too. Rick continued on down the concourse and his mind churned wildly with questions: Hadn't she been going in the opposite direction? Wasn't there another ladies room in the direction she was going? Did she intentionally come back this way, hoping to find me? As that last question passed through his mind, Rick felt his cock stiffen and he couldn't help but smirk as his heart thumped with excitement. He had caught her eye as much as she had caught his. Apparently even more so.

Rick re-checked the flight departure monitor and saw that his connecting flight to Houston; number 2351 was now listed, still on-time and departing out of Gate C-23. With still plenty of time to kill, Rick strolled casually down the concourse until he reached Gate 23, then turned on his heal and began strolling back up the concourse just to people watch. Rick then caught the enticing aroma of food being cooked and saw that he was passing the food court. Having not eaten since early that morning, and having been so intrigued by the lovely lady pilot, Rick had forgotten how hungry he was until just now. Rick quickly scanned the court, found what appealed to him and entered the five person deep line to order. When it came down to just two people left to order before him, Rick suddenly caught another enticing and all too familiar aroma: Sweet peach and vanilla. Rick felt his stomach fill with excited butterflies and his heartbeat accelerate like the field of Indy cars going from yellow back to green.

"So, who won the race this year?" The lovely lady pilot asked.

Rick turned slowly to find her standing directly behind him in the line with her hand resting on the raised handle of her flight case and luggage.

"Okay, are you stalking me or what?" Rick asked sarcastically.

They both laughed then Rick extended his hand.

"I'm Rick."

"Lisa."

They shook hands and Rick's much larger hand almost completely encased hers. Her skin was incredibly soft but her grip was firm.

"No, I'm not stalking you." Lisa said.

"Damn!" Rick replied.

They both laughed again as they slowly let go of each other's hand.

"So, you heading back home?" Lisa asked.

"Yep."

"And where pray-tell might that be?" Lisa queried.

"Houston." Rick replied.

"You're kidding?" Lisa said. "You by chance gonna be on Flight 2351?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." Rick said.

"Me too." Lisa said with an almost seductive smile.

"As the Captain?" Rick asked.

"Yeah, that's what they pay me for." Lisa said.

"Well then I guess you leave me no choice but to buy you dinner." Rick said.

"Oh, I couldn't let you do that." Lisa replied.

"How you gonna stop me?" Rick asked.

"I could just walk away." Lisa snapped.

"And just where would you go? I mean it's true you're gonna be driving tonight, but do you have a plane to drive right now?" Rick whipped.

"That's pretty good." Lisa smiled.

"Can I help you, sir?" A broken English voice bellowed from behind the counter.

"Madam." Rick said as he motioned Lisa in front of him.

Rick paid for both his and Lisa's order and then carried the two trays to an empty table by the window in the seating area. Lisa carried his carry-on bag on top of her flight case and luggage. Rick and Lisa engaged in very enjoyable conversation for nearly the next hour and a half. Captain Lisa Chaszar was forty-four years old; ten years older than Rick and had been flying since she was twelve. She had been with the airline for seventeen years, was divorced and the mother of an eleven year old son who spent most of his time with his father. And what Rick had feared would be a tedious and agonizingly long layover, turned out to be the most enjoyable time of his life. He couldn't remember a time when he had so enjoyed spending time with a woman like Lisa. He had never met a woman like Lisa! And his time with her went by far too fast, for Lisa was soon leaving the table and heading off to the pilots briefing room as departure time was approaching. They shook hands once again and Rick felt an incredible spark. Lisa winked at him as she took hold of the handle on her flight case and left. Did she feel it too? Rick felt a flush of warmth and a chill of thrill pass through his body as his heart again thumped.

Rick stepped aboard flight 2351 to Houston and glanced quickly into the cockpit. Lisa was sitting in the left hand seat, flipping a few switches on the instrument panel and looking over some computer printouts. The First Officer sitting beside her was a fairly handsome young man, and for a split second, Rick felt a slight surge of jealousy. Rick immediately shook it off, continued down the aisle and again took the window seat in the emergency exit row over the starboard wing of the Boeing 737. As he slid his carry-on bag under the seat in front of him and stretched out, Lisa's soft and sensual voice came over the P.A. system, welcoming everyone aboard. Rick had also noticed that the three flight attendants on board had been eyeing him with sly smiles. He wondered if perhaps Lisa had been talking and informed them who he was. Surely not. Must be his charged up ego playing tricks on him.

Within a few minutes, the aircraft was backing away from the gate and the engines where roaring to life. With nobody in the seat directly beside him, Rick raised the arm between the seats and spread himself out. He leaned his head back, slid down slightly in the seat, stretched out his legs and shut his eyes. He heard the mechanical gears whirring as the wing flaps lowered into takeoff position. The engines were suddenly gunned and the 737 began lumbering forward. A few moments later, Rick felt the g-forces pushing him deeper into his seat as the plane raced down the runway. The aircraft lifted smoothly into the air, the landing gear thumped up and away below his feet and the last thing Rick sensed was the plane banking to the right.

Rick awoke with a start as the landing gear brushed the Houston Hobby tarmac. Glancing out the window, the engines were roaring at full power as the reverse thrusters slowed the speeding aircraft down to a taxiing crawl. Rubbing his sleep filled eyes, Rick then checked his watch: It was a quarter to ten; he'd slept soundly through the entire two hour flight. But it wasn't a two hour flight. They were arriving almost twenty minutes early. The aircraft taxied up to the gate, the fasten seatbelt sign dinged as it shut off and the engines fell quiet. It was a slow procession as the passengers in front of him deplaned and Rick was anxiously awaiting his chance to see Lisa at the flight deck door; but when he arrived, she was nowhere to be found. Stepping off the aircraft and into the jet way, he saw no sign of her. Rick's heart sank and he sighed deeply with disappointment. He proceeded up the jet way and into the terminal, which was virtually deserted at this time of the night. Again, there was no sign of Lisa anywhere. Rick proceeded to the nearest men's room to respond to yet another call of nature, and this time, he had no trouble in answering her immediately. He buttoned up his jeans, washed his hands, picked up his bag and headed back out onto the terminal concourse. As he rounded the restroom exit wall, Rick's nostrils filled suddenly with the hypnotic scent of sweet peach and vanilla. Rick stopped dead in his tracks with his heart skipping two beats and his stomach leaping into his throat; Lisa was once again standing directly in front of him.

"So, do you live around here?" Lisa asked with a smile.

"Where'd you go?" Rick asked. "You just kind of disappeared."

"Women have to pee too, you know." She replied and they both chuckled.

Rick and Lisa walked together down the concourse. Rick pulled Lisa's flight case and luggage as she removed the rank insignia from her shoulders. They passed the security checkpoints, rode down the escalators to baggage claim and then out the automatic doors into the warm and muggy Houston night. The smell of exhaust fumes and fresh cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air as they crossed the sidewalk toward the parking garage. Rental car buses, taxis, limos and private cars crawled past the curbside pick up areas.

"So, where'd you park?" Lisa asked.

"Right over there in the garage." Rick replied.

"Cool. Let's go." Lisa said almost blatantly.

"Oh! Did you need a ride home?" Rick asked.

"Yeah." Lisa said. "Be kind of hard for us to have sex if you're at your house and I'm at mine."

Rick's eyes bulged so wide that the eyeballs might easily have fallen out of the sockets. His stomach filled with what felt like a swarm of killer bees, his heart raced and all the air evacuated his lungs with the speed and force of a sudden cabin decompression.

"Did you just say what I think you did?" Rick finally managed to stammer.

"What? About having sex? Yeah. Do you have a problem with that?" Lisa replied.

Rick couldn't bring himself to speak, but managed to shake his head in the negative.

"Look, I realize I'm being a little forward." Lisa said.

"Nah!" Rick said.

"But like I told you earlier." Lisa continued. "I'm forty-four years old, I'm divorced, and I'm an airline pilot. So, if there's one thing I don't do its play games. If I see something, or somebody I want, I go for it. Life's too short to fuck around with all the dumb shit!"