An Accidental Love God Ch. 04

Chapter 4: Learning the Power

The pheromones that give me my power as an incubus are secreted through my sweat. In an office this is not a big deal, as writing computer programs is hardly strenuous. Skiing however presents a problem. Technical ski clothing like long underwear absorbs sweat to wick the moisture away from your body. While the moisture evaporates, the stuff that makes one smell, like incubus pheromones, stays behind. Before I got my power I would just stink and women would avoid me. Now, however...

Whenever I came inside to warm up or get something to eat I could see women looking at me; they would attempt to chat me up even in front of husbands and kids. Part of me always wanted to have fit athletic women eating from the palm of my hand. These fantasies, of course, did not involve my wife being there or the need to avoid altercations with irate husbands or kids asking "Mommy, who is that man?"

I managed to get through the weekend with no major issues, mostly because après ski drinks were in our condo.

I got to the airport early for my 6 AM flight Monday, thinking about how exactly I would pull off this sale. I had met the client's CIO, the person whose signature I had to entice, a few time and really thought she was a good person. Ritu was only 5 foot 2 inches of delicate Indian immigrant. She had the delicate pretty features of many Indian women and long dark hair, typically held up in a bun. She was very fit - I had heard she was into triathlons - but she rarely ever showed off her body with her business clothes. I could understand why, of course. Her boss, the company president, and his boss, the chairperson of the board, were very conservative about office attire. Their idea of casual Friday was allowing brown suits. What I truly loved about Rita was her smile. Her dazzling white teeth against her dark skin lit up a room. It was one of the few genuine smiles I had seen on executives at that level. When I see most C level executives smile I think sharks and crocodiles, but not Ritu. We got along very well. While I was attracted to her in the same way I was attracted to most good looking women, there was never any flirting with Ritu, just professional friendliness that caused her to light up the room with her smile. I considered her a friend, and now I would be testing that friendship.

The problem with thinking through how I would handle this meeting and manipulation, I was unconsciously releasing buckets of pheromones. Any woman who came within 50 feet of me was picking up o the scent. Monday morning flights are typically filled with groggy business people, almost all men. I got to the gate, saved seats for Aleska and Donna and cracked my computer to work through my presentation. While I knew why Ritu would agree to the contract, I had to keep up appearances. I was oblivious when the first well-dressed business woman asked it the seat next to me was occupied.

"Sorry. I'm saving those for two colleagues."

By the fourth woman doing this I got suspicious and looked up. Every chair in the area was occupied by a woman, all wide awake and looking towards me with various degrees of flirtation. A flight attendant licked her lips at me.

"I don't need this" I thought and went right back to heads down.

Aleska and Donna arrived at the gate only a few moments before the flight was called.

"Maybe we should find someplace to enjoy ourselves before the flight." Donna whispered to me as she sat next to me.

"They'll be calling the flight in 5 minutes boss lady." I replied. "Let's save it to celebrate tonight."

"Celebrate or no tonight, I cannot wait to get back at you." Aleska purred as she sat on my other side. Both women had dressed very conservatively for this client, but that did not stop Aleska from pressing the best boobs money could buy into my arm.

"Right... right, ok let's just get through this." I said, thanking the lucky stars that I had worn a suit. Any skin to skin contact and we'd have gotten arrested for public lewdness right there. The flight was called just then. Donna, as a VP, flew first class and boarded. Aleska, who flew frequently to meet with customers, went next to sit up front. I, who rarely travels, was back in cattle car class in the rear of the plane. The window seat was already occupied by a small, thin man who looked like he was a runner or long distance bike rider. We get lots of aerobic animals in the Rockies, as they move here to train. He was already fast asleep. I had the middle seat, so I stowed my bag, took off my suit jacket and I hoped my luck would hold for the person who got the aisle seat. I've learned that business travel gold is no longer an empty middle seat - the flights are always full. The standard now is seats next to really tiny people who will not crowd you. Ideally, I'd fly on flights with tour groups of anorexic midgets.

I scanned the people coming down the aisle thinking "Please him... not him... please her." I saw the person who would sit next to me and blanched. First, it was a she and I really did not want to deal with my little incubus problem on an airplane. Second, this woman was the poster person for America's obesity epidemic. I had been borderline obese and after losing all the weight I had developed an aversion to people who were truly obese. This woman was all of 5 foot 2 inches and 400 pounds if she were an ounce. She had curves, like an apple has curves. She smiled at me in a friendly way, stowed her bag and sat -- really overflowed is a better word - the aisle seat.

There was no way to avoid contact. I was amazed the airline had not required her to purchase a second ticket.

"Please long sleeve shirt... save me!" I thought.

I made very sure that my hands stayed as far away as possible from Ms. Obesity 2012 but had not counted on the one other bit of exposed flesh. You see, Ms. Obesity could not get the seat belt around her waist, so she reached up to call the flight attendant. The flab of her arms rolled like a tsunami with her movement and her bare arm brushed against the top of my head. There needs to be a law prohibiting the sale of sleeveless blouses to anyone over a certain body fat percentage.

"Excuse me.... Oh.... Oh my..." I saw her eyes go out of focus. I swore then that, if I got out of this, I would buy a burka and only appear in public dressed as a strict Muslim woman.

I later learned that the effect of the pheromones is much stronger the longer a woman has gone without sex. I could imagine it had been a very long time for this woman, if ever. The annual production of beer for all of Germany could not produce beer goggles thick enough for anyone to be interested.

She turned to me with a goofy, almost drunken smile as she waited for the flight attendant. I put laser focus on my copy of the Wall Street Journal.

The flight attendant delivered the belt extension and I heard Ms. Obesity mutter something about getting tied up. I still have nightmares.

"Hi, I'm Adele" she said in what was a surprisingly sultry voice - think Kathleen Turner in Who Framed Roger Rabbit. She extended a hand.

"Oh... hi... sorry, newsprint..." I muttered and went right back to my paper without taking her hand.

She touched myarm. "Ya know, I don't typically do this... but um..." she bit her lip... "maybe you and I could ... um ... well I find you really hot and why don't we join the mile high club. Head back to the bathrooms... ya know."

I could not see how this woman could fit herself into the cramped quarters of an airplane lavatory much less have anyone join her. I include in that the aerobic animal next to me in the window seat.

"I'm married."

"She'd never find out."

"No"

She got a pouty look on her face and sat, squirming, through all the normal pre-flight routine and taxiing to the runway. I am one of those lucky people who can easily sleep on airplanes. The white noise of the engines actually can put me out. I tried to sleep, but her movements would jolt me awake. Occasionally she would brush a fat finger over my arm and I'd flash hera dirty look. We got into the air and the captain turned off the seat belt sign.

"Now's our chance." She smiled hopefully.

My personal trainer and fellow ink -- the name we used amongst ourselves for incubus -- had been coaching me as a newbie. I heard his voice again

"Mano, you can control it."

"I hope this works." I thought.

I whispered to her. "You know what would be good. You go in the lavatory and masturbate. Cum maybe 25, 30 times, then ... maybe after we land..." I was confident I could lose her in the confusion of LAX. I touched her hand as I said this.

"That is hot." She whispered back and immediately got up and left for the back of the plane.

"Seems to work" I thought as I reclined the seat and nodded off. I slept through the beverage service and most of the flight. About 25 minutes before landing a flight attendant -- a guy thankfully -- touched my shoulder to wake me. Ms. Obesity was nowhere to be seen.

"Sir, can you tell me anything about the woman in the aisle seat?"

"Ahhhh, nope. Never seen her before today. Why?"

"Well she locked herself in the lavatory very early in the flight and has not come out. And we can hear her moaning in there."

"Sorry, 'fraid I can't help." I lied.

The flight attendant asked the same questions of the aerobic animal and the other folks seated around us, to no avail.

I still feel bad about the fact that we needed to circle LAX for an additional 45 minutes while they coaxed Ms. Obesity out of the lavatory. The captain even came back but could not get her out. She came out with a sort of dazed expression and had to be forced into a flight attendant's jump seat. She kept insisting that she needed to return to the seat next to me. I guess flight attendants keep those plastic zip handcuffs around for unruly passengers. They needed several sets to get around her wrists and she was so fat that she could not reach her arms behind her.

"But I came 30 times and ... and..." I heard at one point. Christ on a pony! She took me literally!

I filed this in the back of my head. I had to discuss this with Jose.

I also feel bad that they arrested her and charged her with not obeying the orders of the flight crew. Apparently that is a Federal crime. I cannot imagine what her lawyer, the judge and the US Attorney made of her confession of needing to cum 30 times before the end of the flight. Of course, Fox News had a field day with it. We were all delayed while the police and FBI questioned us, apparently thinking that Ms. Obesity was a terrorist or some incarnation of the underwear bomber --the bra bomber maybe? Thankfully we had built in plenty of time to get to our meeting, knowing that LAX can be crazy. We had not anticipated this level of crazy but we were not late for our presentation with Ritu.