A One Night Stand

Tattooed, green-haired Joanie meets a capitalist tool

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I knew traveling over the holidays was going to be tricky. Airplanes fly full, and 'weather happens,' and then flights get canceled and there's little room on other planes for the travelers who got stranded. Nevertheless, I had to go. I had promised my parents.

It's a tradition in my family to be home for Christmas, all the way through New Year. My Mom loves it, and my Dad does, too, but he'd never admit it. I'd get to see my brother Leo and he'd tell me all about his latest conquests. He keeps track of the girls he lays, and rumor has it that he has pictures of every girl he's taken to bed, and the pictures are of the girls naked. Yes, he's that kind of guy. I've never seen the pictures; only his best friend Mike has seen them, according to the rumors.

My father too, in his day, was a fantastic womanizer. Once he met my mother, though, he stopped. He stopped on a dime. That's how hard he fell for my Mom. I once overheard him explaining it to Leo: apparently my Mom can suck cock like no other woman on the planet; it's something about her tongue. When she blew my Dad, she also blew his mind. Then when you add how she fucks, well, let's just say my Dad considers it akin to a religious epiphany.

After my Dad told Leo that story about our Mom, Leo looked at me differently. I guess he felt the strawberry blonde does not fall far from the bush? I'm sure if I had not been his sister he would have tried to seduce me. I'm also sure that had he not been my brother, I would have been an easy conquest for a man like Leo.

Instead, Leo displaced his lust for me by seducing my friends, one after the other. I know, because each and every one of them told me, and every single one of them fell in love with his cock. I'd love to see the naked pictures of my friends in his stash. I've looked for it, but never found it. They might just all be digital, on his phone or computer. There is, after all, a password protected folder on his computer labeled top secret. (I told you I've looked for them!)

Can you imagine how strange that made me feel, to have my brother laying all of my friends, and then my friends going all gaga over my very own brother? Yes, it was creepy. I thought about seducing Leo's friends for revenge, and I actually did seduce Mike. Unfortunately, that made things worse: Mike could not stop talking about my 'unworldly' blowjob talent, and how I was the best fuck on the planet. Now Leo's suspicion that I was this amazing lay like my mother was set in concrete. Nothing was ever going to stop him from going after me. Don't worry, he'd never succeed.

I figure I know what it is. It's really two things: I have a really long tongue, and it's apparently double jointed or something. This means I can actually wrap my tongue all around a man's cock. I wrap my tongue around a man's cock and grab it with my tongue. This drives men nuts. I can also deep throat, and for me it's effortless. Of course, there's no way to compare what I do when I blow a guy, and how it feels for him, with the norm; but based on the reactions, I'd say it's exactly what my Mom does, in all probability.

My blowjobs are like a magic elixir. After I give one to a guy, that same guy becomes kind of like my sex slave. It's actually kind of creepy. I've been hounded for more blowjobs and even stalked by former lovers who can't get enough of having my tongue wrapped around their cock. As a consequence, I never give blowjobs to any guy unless he becomes a long-term lover.

Leo seemed always to want to get me alone, and he tried mightily to seduce me. He never stood a chance. Incest is just not my thing, you know? I mean, I don't judge, it's just not my thing.

Anyway, there I was, going back to my family, knowing I would have to fend off Leo's amorous overtures, fend off my mother's nagging, and leave my Dad alone to watch the football games. Not my idea of fun. I found myself heading to JFK airport, to take an airplane across the country out to San Francisco, expressly to enter the insanity that is my family. I did this every year, and it never got easier. My checked luggage was chock full of presents for them, to boot.

The weather was clear and calm so I was optimistic. I was flying from JFK to SFO. I had taken the precaution of buying a business class ticket, since I had the miles for the upgrade, and I figured they'd treat business class passengers a little better?

My flight was cancelled, to my surprise, due to weather in Chicago. The airplane that was supposed to take me nonstop from New York to San Francisco had actually to be at the airport in order for us passengers to board it, and it wasn't there; it was stuck in Chicago. For reasons the airlines alone understand, the airplane was supposed to come from Chicago. The airline managed to get me onto a plane from NY to Denver, with a connection to Oakland. Well, okay, at least I'd get there. I'd be late, but I'd get there.

Or so I thought.

I relaxed in my business class seat once I was in the plane. Once it had taken off, I relaxed even more. I had a couple of free drinks (business class, remember?), and when the man in the seat next to me tried to chat me up, I pointed to my headphones and indicated I really wanted to watch the movie. This was not really true; I had already seen The Devil Wears Prada three times. In truth, I just wanted to be left alone and chill out before facing the chaos of the holidays with my family.

The pilot's announcement that the Denver airport was basically closed due to rather severe snow squalls woke me out of my daydreams. We were circling the airport, waiting for the squalls to end, but we were also running out of fuel. We were diverted back to Kansas City. I figured I'd have to spend the night in KC.

I was right.

The man next to me did not have my relaxed attitude toward the fates, and somehow, he must have thought if he got angry and agitated enough, the airline would get him to Oakland that very night. The flight attendant and I combined to gang up on him, and together we calmed him down.

The man, whose name was Alvin, but he called himself John (his middle name), gradually calmed down and he explained his distress. His father had just suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack and his mother was emotionally devastated. He was desperate to get to her side. This led to a long discussion about family.

John had a sister named Susie, but she was on assignment in Singapore. She was currently crossing the Pacific Ocean, and ironically, she might end up getting to San Francisco before he did! He had wanted to get there first, because Susie was fragile and she had been a Daddy's girl, and she might be serious competition with his mother for the basket-case-of-the-year award. He was the strong one of the family, together with his Dad, but now his Dad was gone.

I could see John was holding back tears.

"It's okay to cry, John," I said. "You've just lost your father. It's natural; you're grieving. Everyone understands," I said, in my most sympathetic voice.

"Thanks, Joanie. You're really a doll," John said. "If I were to let myself cry, I fear I won't be able to stop."

"Let yourself go, John. I'll take care of you. Maybe we can have a Kansas City strip steak after we land. I've never had one, but I've heard the term all of my life, so since it looks like we'll be spending the night in Kansas City, why not?" I said.

"You eat red meat?" John asked. I must have looked too counter culture for his eyes. Maybe it was the green highlights in my hair? It also could have been my nose ring? Or the tattoo on my neck? Or the stud in my super long tongue? I guess there were lots of indicators.

"Not very often. I'm kind of a vegetarian, but my doctor wants me to eat red meat from time to time. My body seems to need what it offers. You know, once a month we women lose some blood, and hemoglobin needs what red meat offers. So, I eat red meat from time to time to please my doctor," I said.

"I eat meat to please myself," John said.

How very male of you, I thought. What I said, however, is, "I try never to judge the diet of others, in the hope they will not judge me."

"Words to live by," John said, and he smiled for the first time. The flight attendant was making her rounds just then, making sure everyone was belted in, had their seats upright and their tray tables locked away, and picking up the remaining trash before landing. She whispered to me, "Thank you for making Mr. Swann smile, Ms. Edwards."

Business class, that's what it was. The attendants even learn our names. How nice!

John and I were rebooked the next day out of Kansas City, and we were both put up in an airport hotel. John said, "Can I buy you a Kansas City steak? According to trip advisor, there's a great place downtown for steaks."

An hour later we were headed out for a late-night steak dinner. I took two thirds of my giant steak back to the hotel in a doggy bag. John finished his entire steak. To this day, I don't know how men can eat so much and still feel good. John walked me to my room at the airport hotel. It was already around eleven at night.

"Thank you for a lovely evening," I said, and I gave John a little side hug. He pulled my arm as I went into my room and pulled me back out.

"I could use a real hug, Joanie. Please?" he said, and we hugged, for quite a long time, in fact. I'm a little short, and John is a little tall, so my head nestled into his front shoulder as my boobs were squashed against his chest. His chest felt nice. Really nice. I don't know why, it was a foolish thing to do, but I leaned up and gave his neck a little kiss.

John took my head in his hands, holding my head firmly yet gently in place. He looked into my eyes, searching for something. Apparently, he found it, and he pressed his lips, ever so gently against my lips, and nature being what it is, we kissed. It was just a closed mouth kiss, but I, for one, thought it was lovely. He kissed me a second time, then a third time, and sanity returned to my thoughts. I pushed him away.

"As I said, John, thank you for a lovely evening. See you on the airplane tomorrow, and good night," I said, and this time I made it into my room and closed my door.

I was a bit hot and bothered by the kisses, however, and I took the necessary steps to relieve the sexual tension John had stirred into life. He really is a nice man, I thought. I had fantasies of him lying on top of me, his cock drawing out moans, and his hands on my boobs, tweaking my nipples, as he pummeled away. I had a nice climax and then fell asleep.

I had breakfast in my room, and met John in the lobby when it was time for the airport shuttle. We were liked the Bobbsey Twins, always together en route to the airport, at the airport, and on the airplane. We said our goodbyes at baggage claim in Oakland, and I headed out to the car rental and then to the hotel before I summoned my courage to meet my family.

After a day with my family, I was so glad to find that the Courtyard Marriott in Emeryville had a bar! My brother Leo pinching my ass, and teasing me about my hair ("What's the matter, they were out of blue dye?") put me in a funk. My mother is still on my case over my tattoos and body jewelry. I really needed a drink. I find it depressing to drink alone in a hotel room, so I sat at the Courtyard Marriott's bar and drank my rusty nail, reading the novel I had brought with me on the trip. The lounge lizards who tried to pick me up I fended off by saying I was waiting for someone.

My lie that I was waiting for someone became the truth when a man sat down next to me and ordered a Scotch whisky on the rocks. "Hello, John," I said. "The stars seem to want our paths to cross, I guess. You staying here, too?"

"No, I've just been checking out all the hotel bars in the East Bay until I found you," he said.

"Very funny. Have you eaten? There's a PF Chang's across the street if that interests you?" I said.

"You'll join me?" he asked.

"If they have booze, I'm all for it," I said.

"Family trauma?"

"You betcha. In spades. How are you doing? Funeral arrangements all set?"

"The funeral's tomorrow. Say, I know we don't know each other that well, and it's a lot to ask, but would you come with me to the funeral?" John asked.

"Uhh..."

"Think about it over dinner," he said.

We had a great time at dinner. John had the Mongolian Beef and I had some tofu and Chinese veggies concoction, and a Blue Vodka Martini. I was getting good and soused. After dinner we had a nightcap at the hotel and closed down the Courtyard Marriott bar. John walked a tipsy me to my room.

This time there was no question about it, and he simply kissed me at the door to my room. He kept kissing me and at some point, our lips opened letting the kissing get hot and heavy. His hands went around me and up underneath my sweater, looking for my bra clasp, I supposed. He wouldn't find one, since the clasp was in the front.

Smart guy, he figured that out. Still kissing me, he unsnapped my bra and then it was open season on my boobs while standing there kissing, right there in the hallway of the ninth floor of the Emeryville Courtyard Marriott.

"Can we take this inside your room, Joanie?" John asked.

"No, John. I'm afraid of what will happen," I said. I was much too aroused.

"What happens is up to you," John said.

"That's what I'm afraid of. I'm probably ovulating," I said.

"Your room has a view of San Francisco. Mine looks out at the parking lot. Can I at least come in for a minute and see the view?"

"No. I'm sorry, John."

"I understand. I bought some rubbers today, you know," John said.

"You just said the magic word," I said, and opened the room door and pulled John inside. "Just look at the view, John, and then you have to go."

"Two views, please," John said.

"Two? I don't understand," I said.

"San Francisco, and your naked body," John said, as he lifted my sweater up and over my head. He unsnapped and unzipped my skinny jeans, but he was hopeless at getting them off my legs.

"My jeans are the new form of birth control," I said, and I giggled. I slithered them down and off my legs. "I've got more practice at undressing a woman than you do, John." I nervously giggled some more.

John was still fully dressed, while I was almost naked, wearing only my panties. John took me over to the large picture window and we gazed out across the bay at the beauty of San Francisco at night, its lights twinkling across the bay. He played with my boobs, and then he held out his cell phone and took a selfie picture of us. It came out pretty nice! It was my first picture of myself almost naked with a man's fingers tweaking my nipple. My nipples were really hard and erect, too.

John could see the tip of my other tattoo sticking up a wee bit over my bikini panties. "What does your tattoo say?" he asked. I pulled my panties down just enough to let him see the small words tattooed just above my crotch. "Insert Here," John read aloud. I giggled nervously.

"Okay, John, time for you to go," I said. John began undressing, ignoring my suggestion that he leave. Soon I got to feast my eyes on his nice hard erection. I know it's a bit juvenile, but I still get a real thrill when a man gets hard because of me. I also feel I have to do something about it.

I gently took John's erection in my hands, both of us standing in the window, and I began to stroke it. We could be seen from the windows of a neighboring hotel, I suppose, but the voyeur would have had to have been looking at just the right time, and looking with binoculars, and the odds of that happening were nil, I figured. So, I just kept right on stroking his lovely, hard cock.

John led me to the bed, and I fell backwards onto it, keeping my legs together. He pulled off my panties, and suddenly he saw all of me. He spread my legs, revealing my most intimate spot, and he smiled at me. He got on top of me, and I almost ruined the mood when I said, "Rubber?"

"Just a taste, first?" John asked.

"No. Too dangerous," I said.

"Please?"

I knew what he wanted. He wanted to dump his seed inside me. What the fuck, I thought. You only live once, right? I said nothing, but when he entered me, I gasped. He felt so good! It was as if I had been waiting to have his cock inside me, completing me, making me a woman one more time. It was like heaven on earth. How many rusty nails had I drunk, anyway? Maybe it was the blue vodka martini that helped my moral center take a vacation in Nevada?

Was I actually fucking a man I had met on an airplane, when all I knew about him was that his father had died? Was I really that cheap, that easy? These thoughts became lost, muddled in the erotic pleasure John was giving me; the thrill of this casual sex, in a hotel room in front of a large picture window, with the lights burning brightly, was just too much for coherent thought.

Nevertheless, halfway through the fuck, I asked again., "Rubber?" Just then he plunged deep inside me with tremendous force.

"Aren't you on the pill?" he asked, in between grunting thrusts. Why would he think that? Are all green-haired vegetarian sluts on the pill, or something?

"Y-yes," I said, as I groaned from his latest fabulous thrust. "Kiss me, lover, kiss me while we fuck." I didn't say that I didn't completely trust the birth control pills; that's just my own paranoia.

I didn't climax during the fuck, but it was wonderful nevertheless. John certainly did, however, oh yes, he certainly did! He turned out to be one of those guys with a surfeit of cum. There surely was a lot of it swimming around inside me. It felt magnificent. I became glad he hadn't used a rubber.

John took a picture of my pussy with his cum slowly oozing out of it. My boobs were in the background like tiny mountains with cherries on top. My face was hidden behind my hands with my painted red nails, as modesty, or embarrassment, prevented me from allowing my face to show in the picture.

The next day I took my brother Leo with me when we went to the funeral of John's father. My brother met John's basket case of a sister and I could tell that he fell for her in a heartbeat. My brother was like that; he had the broken wing complex. Give him a bird with a broken wing and he couldn't resist trying to heal the bird. In this case the bird was John's sister Susie.

The four of us went to dinner at a much nicer restaurant than PF Chang's. Then we all adjourned to the Courtyard Marriott's bar. John spent the night in my room, and he gave his room to his sister Susie, who made excellent use of the room entertaining my brother Leo. Leo has a huge cock and he knows how to use it. Don't ask how I know. We can say he laid a whole bunch of my high school friends, one after the other, and once he even did two of them at a time. I'm sure Susie enjoyed herself. Sex can be a great distraction from grief.

As it turned out, John had to go back to NY the next day for work. Susie stayed to help their Mom, and she enjoyed Leo to the max throughout the holidays. John and I said our goodbyes. We both agreed our brief fling had been fun, but John was a lawyer and having a counter culture, tattooed, green haired woman with pounds of body jewelry dangling from all sorts of places, as his woman, was not the image he wanted.

"A corporate lawyer is not exactly my idea of the ideal man, either, even if you are a wonderful guy," I said.

So that was it. My elaborated one-night stand was over, and John flew off, back into the wilds of Manhattan and the white shoe corporate law scene, with its concrete canyons and offices on the 27th floor. I got over it, or would get over it, of course I'd get over it, I thought to myself.