Anal Anastasia

Sitting in the airport is never much fun, regardless of the reason behind traveling. I'm a seasoned traveler though and even despite all of the new security measures and increasing delays, it seems that I'm at the airport more often now than not. In fact, with my relatively new job, I'm traveling more now than ever. But who's complaining, right? After all, it's putting food on the table. I've never been one to complain too much anyway. Plus, airport gates are great for people watching, as far as I'm concerned. I'm never bored especially when there's so much activity.

It was almost seven o'clock in the evening as I continued to wait in the Charlotte Regional Airport, gate C5, for our flight back to Chicago. We had just finished up with an all-inclusive sales meeting and the energy level was rather low. And to make things a little more disappointing, the gate personnel had just announced that our flight was delayed due to weather in the surrounding area. Perfect. But I didn't mind, there was no hurry to get back home and the people watching was actually keeping me rather interested, watching so many folks walking back and forth. I simply popped in a movie in my laptop, hit play, put my headphones on and casually leaned back in my chair and watched the screen while keeping a casual eye on the folks walking by and around.

That's when she appeared -- a short, cute brown-haired girl with red highlights. She wore tight Capri pants with high heels and a snug-fitting black, v-cut top with a high cut hem: exposing some of her mid-drift. She was about 5'-7" or so in height. Two words: eye candy. She was more cute than pretty, but I found her very interesting just the same. She sat down about two rows from me, crossed her legs and immediately got on her cell phone. She looked over, probably feeling the weight of my stare. Our eyes met briefly, we smiled at one another and then looked away. I returned my visual attention to the movie playing on my screen, but I turned the volume down so I could listen to her speak. She spoke with a heavy accent and from what I could tell; it was Russian, Polish or some other Eastern European dialect. I was too far away to decipher it for sure.

As she continued on with her conversation, she held the phone in her right ear, thereby turning her head away from me. I took advantage of the situation and gave her a thorough look-over. She had a nice body indeed. Her legs were slim. Her stomach was tight and her breasts were firm and proportionate to the rest of her figure. She had a slight Roman nose and high cheek bones. Her hair was straight, shiny and hung just about shoulder length. Her clear-plastic high-heels and low-cut shirt gave me the inclination that she was a party girl. Something glimmered in the center of her figure. I looked a little more closely and saw the sparkle of a belly button ring. Yep, party girl. I smiled to myself. I tell you, I would be over there in a minute, had she not been on her phone. She looked pretty interesting to talk to. During the next couple of hours, I managed to get a few "check-out" looks her way, while she continued to converse on her phone. Well, I figured looking at her was better than nothing, considering the fact that I wanted to talk with her.

Before I knew it our plane had arrived and was readied for boarding. When general boarding was called, she stood and was in line so fast, I couldn't believe it. Then again, I only had myself to blame as I had to pack up my computer. Go figure. After getting checked in with the boarding gate representative, I double-checked my seat assignment and headed down the jet way. I greeted the fight attendants and made my way down the narrow aisle to my seat, 20-A. Hunting for seat numbers in an airplane is always a challenge, isn't it. Being over six feet tall doesn't help much either, as I had to bend over and crank my neck to read most of the numbering system. As I got closer, to my seat, row 17, row 18...lo and behold, it looked like...it was! I couldn't believe it...I couldn't believe my luck! Seated right next to Seat 20A, was this cute-looking, interesting chick. I'd finally get a chance to talk with her, I figured. I tried to hide my overbearing interest and excused myself as I made my way into my seat. She smiled when I looked over at her after settling in and then, to my surprise, she closed her eyes and leaned turned away.

Shortly after the usual safety presentation and the preflight checks, we were underway, headed down the taxi way towards the runway. It was dark now and even in the dimly lit cabin, the gal seated next to me looked good as ever. During the take off and the acceleration of the jet, we looked over at one another and smiled. Her smile was intoxicating. Her teeth were bright white and her hazel eyes sparkled magically with her disarming smile. Her skin looked young and healthy. It was darker than mine and it appeared that even if she tanned in the beds, it still would have looked natural to the non-expert, like me.

When we reached cruising altitude and the plane leveled off, she took her shoes off, unbuckled her seat belt and pulled her legs up the seat and slouched a bit. This did one of two things: first, her new position pushed her breasts out a little bit, giving me some added view of her cleavage and secondly, it gave me a clearer picture of how toned her legs were beneath her pants. Looking down at her feet now on the seat, pulled close to her ass, were red-painted nails, done up just right. I also noticed a shining diamond ring and band on her left hand. Damn. She had the body of a Hooters girl. Not as much as pretty as cute and petite. Still, I knew this was too good to be true. Oh, well, I figured that I would still try to make friendly conversation if and when the time allotted.

Wouldn't you know it; she slept almost the entire flight! Of course the trip is only about an hour and a half anyway, but still. I was hoping for some conversation with this gal. Then again, I didn't mind her sleeping either. It gave me some keen opportunities to look at her without her knowing. As she slept, her chest expanded and contracted nicely with her breaths. More impressively, her tits seemed to blossom with each inhale and exhale action. I also admired her belly button ring, shimmering delicately in the dim light. When the beverage cart came around, she perked up a little, opened her eyes and caught my glance. Again, she smiled. Then, my eyes almost popped out of my head when she leaned forward to get her carry-on bag from underneath the seat in front of her. As she moved, her high riding shirt moved up her back, exposing a grand sight: a winged design tattoo on the small of her back and the top of a bright yellow thong. The waist band rode high on her hips, as the material piece that stretches over the privates covered the top of her ass cleft with dignified delicacy. I was transfixed. Then, of course, as she got what she was looking for and moved back, I caught the eyes of the woman sitting next to her, an older woman (probably in her 50s) who looked back at me with disgust. I just laughed to myself and looked away.

The angel sitting next to me looked over at me and smiled, offering me a piece of gum (so that's what she was getting out of her bag). I obliged, took the foil-wrapped stick and offered a quick, "Thank you very much."

She smiled brilliantly and in her thick accent replied, "You are welcome."

Finally, our conversation was beginning. I had been waiting to get to this point for quite some time now. My opening had arrived. I took off my headphones and put the movie on pause.

"Do you want me to put the words on so you can see too?"

"You are very kind. No, thank you," she smiled.

"You fly much?"

"Ah, sometimes," she smiled again, her hazel eyes twinkling.

"Well, how many times a year?"

"About three times each year. I go to Russia to see my family and then around the states to see friends."

"Oh, that's cool. So, your last trip from North Carolina was to see friends?"

"Yes."

"Right on. How long were you away?"

"Two weeks."

"Did you have a good visit?"

"Yes. I finally saw my friend whom I have known for...since I came to America."

"That's great! How long have you been in the states?"

"For five years now."

"You like it here?"

"Very much, but I do miss my family."

"I can certainly appreciate that."

"What part of Russia are you from?"

"Just near to Moscow, about two hours away from the outside of the city."

"Very cool."

"How long have you been married?" she asked, motioning to my wedding band.

"Four years."

"Really? Me too!"

"That's cool. Do you like being married?"

"Yes, but my husband is not around much."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"He is in the military...the Army...and he is gone."

"He's not deployed in Iraq, is he?"

"Yes, he is."

"Oh, that's gotta be tough."

"Sometimes it is, but I have friends in Chicago and his family is close by, so I see them a lot."

"That's good. Makes the distance seem shorter?"

"Yes."

"And thank goodness you have friends around too."

"Yes, they are good friends."

"You live in the city?"

"No. I live in the suburbs of Chicago."

"So do we."

"It is funny. I have lived here for more than four years now and have only been downtown one time."

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"No," she giggled, "just once."

"Made that big of an impression, huh?"

She laughed delightfully, "No, I liked it, but the city is so far away and difficult to get there."

"I agree. I do love Chicago, but it is a pain to get there when you have to rely on public transportation. Even when you drive yourself, it's a pain, there's so much traffic."

"Yes. It is very inconvenient."

I was happy to speak with her. Her English was much more refined than I thought it might be and I liked the fact that she was talking a bit more readily. I loved watching her smile and her subtle laughter was great to hear, giving evidence that her defenses were limiting.

"Well, I do hope you get to Chicago more often. It's a shame that you live so close and don't get many opportunities to go there."

"Me too. It is a beautiful city."

Desperately wanting to say, "And so are you," or some equally cheesy line, I refrained and simply replied, "Yes, yes it is."

We smiled at each other genuinely.

"How long is your husband deployed?"

"He will be back in one year."

"Yikes, that's a long time. I hope he returns safely."

"Thank you, as well do we."

As our conversation seemed to be winding down a bit, the timing was rather perfect as the captain came over the intercom and announced that we were on our descent to Chicago. The flight attendants came around, took our empty drink cups and napkins and checked for our seat backs, tray tables and seat belts, the usual.

I put my computer away and tucked my headphones into their case and sat back up, looking out the window at the brilliantly lit city lights below. The gal next to me (I still had no idea what her name was), looked over my shoulder and watched the city with me. We remarked how pretty it was at night. Less than what seemed ten minutes later, we were safely on the ground and taxiing to our gate. The two of us exchanged glances and smiles as we prepared to deplane.

As the plane stopped at the gate, she stood and said, "It was nice chatting with you. Good luck to you."

I returned the kindness, "Nice to talk with you too. And good luck to you."

We smiled one last time at one another and I figured that this would the last time our paths would cross, so to speak. I followed down the aisle and out onto the jet way where she disappeared from site quickly after reaching the entry of the gate. I took a deep breath, thankful for the time spent with her and focused my thoughts on getting my bag from luggage claim.

I marched down the steps to the claim area (a glorified cattle call area), and retrieved my bag after waiting for what seemed an eternity. I continued small talk with some work associates who were waiting in line with me, but it was nothing substantial. Honestly, I just wanted to get the heck out of there, really. I caught a glimpse of the gal I sat next to on the plane. She was waiting for her bag too, just a few rows of people away. Our eyes met and we smiled at one another again, just for nostalgia's sake it seemed. When our bags arrived, we grabbed them and took off for the arrivals pick-up area. I casually approached her as she was on her cell phone again and smiled.

"Are you all set up with a ride?"

"Yes, I have called my family. They are on their way. And you...do you have a ride?"

"I was just going to hail a cab."

"Oh."

"Hey, do you want to save your family's trouble and share a cab?"

She hesitated a moment and then, to my surprise, "Yes, that sounds good. I will call and tell them not to come."

She opened her cell phone again and was shortly on a call. I turned away to give her some privacy, but heard her say, "Yes, I am here...Good...I have met a friend...No, I do not need a ride. Thank you...No, really, I am okay...Thank you...Good night."

She put her phone away and smiled at me. My heart felt as if it were going to stop. I couldn't believe how this evening had transpired.

"Are you in a hurry?" she asked batting her eyes.

"No. Are you?"

"No."

"I'm sorry, you know something, and I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Jeff."

"Nice to meet you, Jeff," she took my hand firmly, "My name is Anastasia."

"Anastasia?"

"Yes, very common Russian name," she smiled.

"Well, not common here. It's a beautiful name, and so are you, might I add."

Anastasia giggled in response, "You are kind."

"You know, I was thinking. I'm more thirsty than anything. Can I buy you a drink before we go home?"

"Yes, I would like that."

I helped her grab one of her bags and walked with her back into the airport baggage claim area and then took the escalator up to the hotel floor on site. Anastasia stood in front of me, holding her bag in front of her, giving me a straight on view of her ass. She was a tiny girl, but in just perfect proportion. Her Capri pants held her curves elegantly. I'm such an ass man, it's not even funny, as I will inevitably peer at a woman's can no matter what they look like. It doesn't matter how old they are, what they look like, if they are brunette, blonde, red...all of those descriptors do not hold much weight with me. From a physical standpoint, it's the tail that matters.

As we rode the escalator in silence, Anastasia turned to meet my gaze on her hind a couple of times, smiling back at me in subtle reassurance, it seemed. She must know, all women know. If it's an intuition thing or just a heat-related sensory nerve that gives women the wisdom to know that they are an object of lust...who knows? All I knew at the time is that I was starting to want to have Anastasia more than ever. I felt my cock begin to rise in my pants as we neared the step off point.

We walked down a short carpeted aisle and turned left into the entrance of the onsite hotel.

"This way," I instructed, walking with Anastasia as we turned past the registration desk and entered the hotel lobby lounge. I picked a seat in the corner of the lounge and motioned to Anastasia where we settled in.

We smiled at each other and each one of us sighed. Then we laughed out loud as our simultaneous action and response connected the moment of otherwise awkwardness.

"What do you like to drink?"

"Usually beer, but tonight, I am up for something a bit more stiff," Anastasia teased, "I think I will have a vodka sour."

"You like stiff drinks?" I looked back at her, smiling devilishly.

"I like stiff things," Anastasia corrected, I felt her leg move softly up and down my calf.

Just then, the lounge wait staff had appeared, asking what we would like.

"I will have a gin and tonic and she will have a vodka sour, please."

I didn't even look at the woman taking our drink orders; I just continued to gaze at Anastasia. She was licking her lips now in a seductive game of excitement. My dick was rousing quickly to the sexy sight of her.

"I have never cheated on my husband."

"And I have never cheated on my wife."

"Good, just as long as we understand one another."

Her leg continued to massage my calf, as I eagerly leaned closer and took hold of her thigh. Moving my hand along it's length and sliding it over her inner thigh.

"It has been over a year since I have made love."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I just miss him a lot."

"I certainly understand."

"So, you're okay with a one-night stand?"

"With a beautiful woman like you, yes, of course."

Anastasia blushed, "You are too kind."

"I aim to please, especially since you said you like stiff things." I grabbed a hold of her hand under the table as she moved closer to me in response and placed her hand on the throbbing length in my pants.

"My, I do like that!"

Meanwhile, our drinks arrived. We took hold of them and I motioned for a toast.

"To us, if only for a short while."

"Yes, to us," she responded, clinking her glass against mine.

We took a quick sip and Anastasia noted, "Do you need to phone your wife?"

"Oh, thank you, no. I told her that I wouldn't be in until late this evening. I usually go out with my office mates after a trip. She's used to that. But thanks for being concerned."

"Certainly. I am a bit nervous though. I have never done this before."

"Yes, I understand completely."

We pushed back our drinks quickly and ordered another round and finished those just as fast. I paid the bar tender and we about bolted to the registration desk. Anastasia stood behind me. My hands shook as I signed the agreement and took the room key.

"Room 512, sir. Enjoy your stay."

"We certainly will," I smiled eagerly at Anastasia and followed her to the elevator.

When the doors closed, she moved against me and looked up at me as I met her lips with mine in unrestrained passion. My hands quickly circled behind her, working up and down her back as her small hands grabbed a hold of my back as well, pulling her tiny body closer to mine. Anastasia's soft lips blossomed against mine, opening like a spring flower. Our tongues met and intertwined as the elevator rose. Thank goodness that it never stopped until we reached the fifth floor as our clothes started to be removed. By the time the doors opened, Anastasia had unbuttoned more than one-half of my shirt and her hair was a mess. I followed her closely down the hall until we reached our room door and after hurriedly opening it, we dragged our bags inside and slammed the door briskly behind us.

The look on Anastasia's face was something like I've never seen. Gone seemed the look of innocence and sweetness. Replacing those child-like characteristics was intense passion and heavy lust: a woman in heat. She stood at the foot of the bed awaiting me to lunge at her like a wild animal romping on its prey. She kicked off her shoes, unzipped her tight Capri pants and had just about ripped her shirt off when I was doing the same. I kicked off my shoes, unbuttoned the rest of my shirt and pulled my slacks off when I was free enough to tackle her and pull her delectable body down with mine onto the bed, cushioning our fall together.

"Jeff, are you going to make love to me or are you going to fuck me?" Anastasia quietly asked, looking deeply into my eyes.

"How about a little of both?" I replied.

"Sounds good to me!" Anastasia cooed.

I had her long red-tinted hair in my hands as I ran my fingers all along the sides of her scalp, pausing to brush her hair away from her face as our tongues met and continued to dance in the darkness of the room. I pulled back and switched on the bed-side light.