I had been in line for the metal detectors along with crews from different airlines and other passengers when I first noticed her.
She stood by herself and didn't seem to know anyone else in line, though she wore the same burgundy-colored outfit as the rest of them. She stood two or three people ahead of me in line, and for the first couple of minutes, she blended in with the rest of the hubbub of the bustling airport. However, something about her drew my attention and I began to watch her.
She was digging around furiously in the carry-on bag slung across her shoulder, as though she had lost her keys or her wallet. I was amused watching her; her movements started out calm and then became faster and more impatient as she covered the same territory in her bag three, four times.
She was cute in a Midwestern blonde sort of way, though in New York cute Midwestern imports are a dime a dozen. No one else seemed to notice her as she dropped to the ground and began pawing through the bag like a dog digging for a bone.
I was thoroughly charmed by this entertaining little scene and had begun plotting how I could walk up to her and say hello when something spilled out of the bag onto the shiny airport floor. It was a scarf wrapped around something long and solid, presumably something delicate which needed to be protected from the bumps of travel.
She made a grab at it but, in her haste, shoved it further away with her frantic fingers, causing the scarf to unfold on the floor in front of her. The object rolled smoothly without stopping, revealing at first a shape like a tall perfume bottle or candle and then unraveled to reveal something made of purple plastic in a very familiar shape.
It's a goddamn dildo! I thought as I stared down at her scrambling hands. She clutched the whole mass of plastic and scarf to her chest, huddling over her bag and looking around like a cornered animal. No one had noticed her except for me, and I was too far away for her to see my shocked face. It happened so fast that for a moment I couldn't be sure of what I'd seen. But there was something unmistakable about the long, realistically-shaped (that is, for about 1/2 of one percent of the population), obscenely and glitteringly purple thing that she'd clutched in her nervous little fist that burned itself into my memory. She'd behaved with the same sort of panic that one would have when snatching their kid out from in front of an oncoming car, but I knew better. All women had these things nowadays, even the sweet little small-town girls. Especially the small-town girls.
I stood in line two back from her trying very hard not to think about all the different ways a young lady such as herself could implement such a device when the people that separated us, a man and a woman traveling together, suddenly began to raise their voices. Apparently, someone had forgotten the tickets and there were vacation plans that hung in the balance. The couple hustled away from the line, leaving me to sidle up behind the flight attendant with my luggage. She faced stiffly forward and looked neither left nor right. I looked her over and realized that her hand was still in her open carry-on bag, unmoving. She had her little fingers wrapped around the scarf and its contents. I could see her thumb stroking a small purple patch the scarf had exposed.
"First time flying?"
As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wished them unsaid. Luckily, my delving eyes had lifted to face level by the time she turned around so I didn't seem like a complete creep.
She apparently had been in New York long enough that she felt entirely comfortable delivering one-word answers over her shoulder and maintaining an I'm-very-busy-so-back-off attitude.
"Sorry," I said to her neck. "You just seemed sort of nervous." No reply. "What flight are you on?"
She turned around to face me and a small bloom of pink had come into her cheeks.
"The number 408. To Reno," she said.
She forced a closed-lipped, professional smile and nodded. She abruptly removed her hand from her bag and zipped it with an efficient squeal and looked up to the arrival/departure board with exaggerated interest.
"Purple's my favorite color," I told her impulsively.
My legs felt a little warm and I shifted my own bag across the front of my trousers, where part of me was becoming unkempt.
"What?" she said, dismayed.
"I said, I love the color purple. How about you?"
"I don't...I don't know what you're talking about." She began to fidget with the strap on her bag, looking nervously around.
I continued, quietly. "I saw you drop something. On the ground there, a minute ago."
She said nothing, looking at the floor and blushing, blotches of pink coming out on her neck. A little mole dappled the underside of her jaw, near her ear, and I wondered how much pinker I could make the skin around it.
"It was something for a friend. A birthday present," she muttered.
"What, the scarf or the dildo?"
She looked straight up into my eyes for the first time. Her skin must have felt hot for the blood pumping through it. She bit her lips hard and took a deep breath. Her mouth quivered as she tried to shape the words that shock kept in.
"Sir," she began in a halting voice, "I don't--I don't know what you saw, but..." She trailed off and looked down. "I don't know what you're talking about," she repeated lamely.
I didn't answer her but simply continued to look at her. I shifted my carry-on off my hip and felt her eyes move down the front of my body. They lingered below my waist and her color darkened.
"I have to go," she said suddenly, turning away.
She grabbed her suitcase and hugged her bag against her body, stepping out of line and striding away.
Shit, I thought. She's going to complain about being harassed to one of her superiors and I'm going to be kicked off the goddamn flight. I picked up my bags and lurched after her like a hunchback.
"Wait!" I yelled after her.
We trotted awkwardly like overladen pack animals across the terminal. I had to catch her. I had to make that flight to Reno today and a little indiscretion wasn't going to stop me.
She was surprisingly quick and made it to some unlabeled but official-looking door behind an area of the terminal that was under construction well before me. "Miss!" I shouted as the door closed. "Shit!" I crashed into the door in my haste and grabbed at the doorknob, catching it just before it closed. Pulling it open as I gasped for air, I saw a dark, quiet hallway lined with horrid maroon and hunter green carpeting that looked and smelled new. The walls stank of new paint. I sniffed and dragged myself inside. The door shut behind me.
"Hello?" I called and dropped the bags by the door.
There were several doors on the left side of the corridor, dusty with brand-new handles. Uncertainly, I stepped forward for a moment and then hesitated. All I could think about was finding this woman and setting her straight. I was not a goddamn pervert. I scratched my softening erection and held still, listening. After a moment, a small sound came from the middle of the hallway, where the third door was slightly ajar, a sound of held-in breathing.
I strode over the industrial carpeting and slipped my fingers into the crack of the door. I pulled it towards me and looked inside. It opened onto a small janitor's closet that was unlit and empty except for the young woman, who stood with her back in the corner.
"Okay, lady," I said, opening the door wide so I could show her that I wasn't trying to trap her or mess with her. "Look, I'm sorry if I said something I shouldn't have. I was overstepping my bounds and I'm sorry, all right? Look, can we please just forget about the whole thing and get back in line? I'm on the Reno flight, too, and I can't miss it because I said something inappropriate to my flight attendant."
She didn't answer me but continued to stand in darkness, her eyes gleaming. As I adjusted to the low light, I saw that she held something in her hands. It looked like a scarf.
"You know, you shouldn't talk to strangers the way you just did," she said.
Her bags were strewn on the floor and even in the low light, I could see that her breathing was labored from running. A lock of hair had pulled free of her bobby pinned hairdo and hung along side her face.
I sighed and reached my hand out toward her.
"Please," I begged and stepped further into the closet, "I'm sorry. Really." Instead of shrinking back against the wall, she took a small step forward and looked up at me. The scarf in her hands began to bob slowly from her left hand to her right as if she were playing monkey-in-the-middle with someone behind me.
"So you saw what was in my bag," she said.
"Look, I was just horsing around. I really didn't mean anything by it," I said. Shit.
"Well," she said, taking another step toward me, "now that you know what I have here, I feel a little exposed."
Her voice had taken on a strange quality, something lazy and singsongish. She slowly pulled the scarf so that its contents were revealed in all their glittery plastic glory in her right hand.
Seeing her small hand grip the shaft of the dildo made me think, strangely, of a little girl playing school with her younger brother, holding the pointing stick in the air as she asked him questions.
Her head lowered and she gazed down the front of my body like she had in the terminal. "Apparently, you're a little exposed, yourself," she said, fixing her eyes on my crotch.
I didn't have to check myself to see why. While most of me was confused, my cock had found this odd conversation arousing. Instinctively, I moved my hand down to cover myself.
She reached out and slapped my hand away.
I was shocked by the sharp contact, and a little annoyed.
"Look, lady, I don't know what you think you're--"
"Shut up," she interrupted.
I couldn't quite see her but it almost sounded like she was smiling in the darkness.
She took my offended hand and opened it, palm facing her. She placed the dildo in it and looked up and me. Her eyes glittered.
"I want you to do something for me," she said in a low voice that did not waver. "I haven't broken this in yet, and it's my policy never to do so alone." She paused.
I saw that her breathing had not slowed. Her eyes glittered.
"Uh, okay," I said, squinting my eyes and trying to see her facial expression. "What do you want me to do?"
I was still coming out of the daze of panic that had led me there in the first place, and I wasn't sure this wasn't some kind of 'fucked-up' woman trap or something. For all I knew the authorities would be all over me at the touch of a button on her little flight attendant's beeper.
She stepped forward and put her hands on my chest.
"Whatever you want," she said and pinched my left nipple, hard.
"Ow!" I hollered, grabbing her wrist with my free hand and pulling her hand away.
Her intake of breath told me of the thrill that gave her. I rammed my body into hers and moved her against the back of the closet, still holding her wrist above her. "What the fuck," I breathed down at her. "You're just all talk, aren't you; all demure and sweet until it comes down to getting what you want."
She didn't answer me.
"Huh?" I said, moving my body into hers, feeling her breasts crush themselves against my ribs. I bent my knees and pressed one of my thighs in between her legs. Her mouth opened and I heard a small gasp as I lifted my leg against her warm mound, pressing her in a slow rhythm. One of the oldest tricks I'd ever learned and it still worked. I still hadn't let go of her wrist.
"This skirt is getting in the way," I muttered as she rocked up and down on my thigh.
I stuck the dildo in my pocket and began to slip my fingers into the waistband of her skirt.
She managed to moan, "No, leave it. Just slip it up," and tried to lean down to show me.
My body blocked her and I kept her where she was.
"Hold still," I said as I reached down and gathered up the folds of fabric cascading down around my occupied leg, lifting the skirt slowly up her thighs.
I slid my fingers along her pantyhosed skin as I rocked between her legs, leaning my mouth down over her open lips.
Her eyes were closed and her mouth spasmed as my lips came close to hers, like a baby reaching for something to suckle. My cock was swollen and demanding attention but I focused on the task at hand. My thumb fanned in small circles across her moving thigh, stroking upwards in search of a panty line...nothing.
She was naked under the nylons!
The realization made my cock throb and I pressed against her harder. She moaned, the little hand I held in my fist clutching at the air.
I continued to hold her in place as I rubbed my thumb along the outside and then the inside of her hip. She squawked and wriggled and as I leaned my mouth down over her again, I caught her lips in mine and pulled on them, slowing her down and pacing her. My fingers slid close to the joining of my thigh and her moist center and I thrust my thumb against the strained tendon running down in the inside of her leg.
She sighed into my mouth. I felt her other hand move across the back of my neck and she pulled me closer to her.
I released her lips and threw my shoulder against hers until she cried out and stopped.
"Hold still," I ordered her.
I moved my thigh and replaced it with my hand. She had soaked through the nylons with her dripping sweetness. I leaned down and kissed her again, squeezing her wrist once before I let it go.
She was a good girl and paid attention and let her hand fall to her side.
With both my hands I explored her throat and shoulders, her lovely clavicle and the skin of her soft chest. I avoided her breasts, however, and when I reached her ribcage she cried out quietly and lifted her body toward me. I ignored her and kept moving further down. She trembled with the soft strokes on her belly and shivered as my thumbs played along the folds of her skirt. I slipped my hands beneath it and reached back up for the soft wetness waiting there for me.
A soft 'oh' came as I teased along the seam that ran up the middle, soaked and warm to the touch.
With a swift movement, I grasped both sides of the pantyhose right along the thin line against her body and pulled away from the seam.
"Hey!" she cried out as a firm rrrrip marked the ruin of her undergarment. "I don't have another pair of nylons!"
"Maybe you should have thought about that before you brought me in here," I said as I pulled the tatters from her thighs, exposing her body to the air.
I dug my thumbs back in to her soft thighs and wrapped my hands around her hips, tugging her toward me and then shoving her back against the wall.
I heard her head strike it slightly as she gave herself up to the feeling of being moved like a doll.
"Now what exactly was it you told me I could do?" I asked her, leaning in.
I spread her open with my hands still wrapped around her hips and scented her warm pussy.
She gazed up at me in surrender. "Whatever you want."
She raised a hand feebly to my shoulder and let it rest there. I kept my eyes locked with hers and moved one of my hands across the inside of her hip and slid it, palm down, across her cunt. My knuckle hit her clit and she jumped. I turned my hand, palm side up, and cupped her, feeling the wet curls and the lips they adorned. Her hips moved toward me and I let the tip of my middle finger slide along her slit. I lifted my other hand and played my fingertips across the globe of her breast. In the same smooth motion, I pushed two fingers into her juicy tightness and clasped her nipple between my finger and my thumb.
She gasped and clutched at my shoulders with trembling hands, still looking up into my eyes. Her pussy was tight and, though it was wet and ready for me, I took my time in working my fingers deeper into her. Moisture flowed over my thumb as I began to work her clit slowly to the rhythm of my delving hand. Her nipple grew hard under my touch and I pinched it, first gently like the tug of a mouth and then harder, jerking it out from her body and making her breath catch in her throat.
She had begun to swear, in bites and whispers, and she had closed her eyes again.
"Look at me," I said, pumping her moist passage with my insistent hand.
She opened her glazed eyes. I pinched her nipple and watched her mouth open wider, silently, her jaw dropping.
"What are you saying?"
She gasped, "I...I was swearing, I think."
"What were you saying?"
Her head rocked in time to her pumping hips. "I said...fuck."
"Fuck," I repeated and fucked her faster with my fingers.
She began to make mewling sounds and I knew my work on her clit was getting her ready for more.
"You like to fuck, don't you?"
She nodded and held on to my shoulders.
I dropped her nipple and reached into my pocket. "Why don't you show me how much you like to fuck."
The dildo was warm from being next to my body and I slid it along the inside of her thigh as I continued with her cunt.
She seemed not to notice it, her eyes closed again and her body rocking back into the wall.
I withdrew my fingers and moistened the end of the dildo with her swollen pussy lips.
She moved expectantly and spread her legs for me.
I almost chuckled. "Turn around," I said.
"What?" She looked confused and stared into my eyes. "I thought--"
"It's my game, sweetheart. You said 'whatever I want.' And this is what I want."
I grinned down at her and gave her a light kiss.
She pouted, but she turned around and faced the wall, placing her hands on either side of her head. Her little ass, cute and pale in the darkness, was tight with nervous anticipation and I was ready to burst.
I put the dildo where my fingers had been and twirled the head of it inside her cunt lips.
She sighed, a sound of relieved pleasure, and spread her legs for me to have better access. She was used to its size -- break it in, my ass -- and only sighed when it slid up into her tight little trap.
I leaned up against her again and pushed my hips into her, pumping the dildo firmly in and out. Her pussy juices poured down my hand as she scratched the wall. With my free hand I tugged at my belt and my fly, sliding my pants down and pulling my boxers over my knees. My cock was stiff and aching and it was all I could do not to stuff her to the gills right there. I switched grips with the dildo, from one hand to the other, and continued with her pussy while I slid the sticky fingers of my free hand further back along the divide between her buttocks.
"Look," she said, turning her head to try to look at me, "I've only done that once, and I really didn't like it."
The muscles of her ass were tight.
"My choice," I reminded her. "And I promise your opinion will change after today."
"I don't think--" she started and gasped as I prodded at her little bunched opening, gently touching her closed folds while I fucked her with the dildo.
She groaned as I pumped it faster and distracted her, relaxing and opening her hips wider. My wet middle finger pushed slowly against her asshole and slid inside without too much trouble.
Her body clung to it and made my cock pulse.
I pulled the finger out and slid it in again, this time following it with my index finger.
She cried out and tensed. "It hurts!" she exclaimed.
I didn't answer her but pushed slowly inside her, giving her a moment to adjust. I felt a pulse inside her rear end and pressed further, twisting my hand, opening her up.
She writhed on the double skewer, torn between the pleasure of the plastic cock in her cunt and the invasion from behind.