Stood Up at the Airport Pt. 01

Okay, so meeting someone online can be a crap shoot; I'll admit it. You're never one hundred percent certain they are who or what they say they are. I've been lucky over the years; the person I had conversed with was real, and always there to meet me at the rendezvous location, or the one time I flew, to greet me at the airport. I suppose, however, that you can only play the numbers so many times before they turn on you.

I had met Kari on a political forum after she posted about getting dumped. I offered my condolences and talked her through it. We soon developed what seemed to be a solid relationship and started cyber-dating. Finally, she suggested that I fly out to California to meet her in person. She lived in Vista, and we made plans to drive up the coast via the Pacific Coast Highway to see the redwoods up North.

Kari seemed very knowledgeable about the San Diego area, so I had no reason to doubt what she was telling me. I hadn't been to California in quite some time, and I was looking forward to not only meeting her, but seeing the redwoods again. They are my favorite tree for a number of reasons, but I had only gotten to see a few smaller groves around the Santa Rosa area. This would be my first time seeing the giant groves, like Prairie Creek Redwoods and Redwoods State Park, so I was pretty excited when I got to the airport.

Boarding was fairly painless, and I easily found my seat; placing my carry-on bag overhead and then settling in. I always reserve a window seat, as I enjoy looking out the window and seeing what lies below. I traveled extensively around the country when I was younger, so once we get west of the Mississippi, I generally know where I am; sometimes even pointing out landmarks to other passengers who have no idea where they are, except at 30,000 feet in altitude. It's pretty cool to see something from the air and recognize it, as things look completely different on the ground.

We taxied down the runway and lifted off, and once we got to cruising altitude and the seat belt light turned off, a few flight attendants began checking in on us to see if we needed anything. I asked for a glass of ginger ale. It's the only time I drink it, and since I rarely fly since 911 anymore due to all of the bullshit involved, it's a treat for me to enjoy.

A very attractive stewardess with light, golden locks smiled at me and inquired if I needed anything. I glanced at her name tag; "Sherri." I smiled back and asked for the ginger ale.

"We only have diet." she informed me. "Is that okay?"

I'm not too fond of diet soda, but I was looking forward to the glass of ginger ale, so I nodded.

"It'll have to do." I sighed, making a very sad face before breaking into a smile.

Sherri smiled back and opened a can of soda and poured it for me, reaching out to hand it to me. At that exact moment, we hit some obviously unexpected turbulence, as the pilot failed to inform us of the possibility, and rather than putting the drink in my hand, she dropped it squarely into my lap instead.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, putting her hand to her mouth in shock, before grabbing a towel from the cart and thrusting it at me in a panic. "I am SO sorry, Sir! Please accept my apologies!"

I had managed to catch it pretty well between my thighs and it was still right-side up, but a significant portion had still sloshed out of the plastic glass and soaked into my lap. I placed the cup onto the tray in front of me and pushed the towel tightly against my crotch, soaking up as much of the liquid as I could, but it still looked like I'd had an accident.

"I guess it's a good thing it was diet," I said ruefully, as I handed the towel back to her, "or else I'd have a sticky mess and a stain on my pants."

Sherri giggled uncontrollably, and I realized how that must have sounded.

"It sounded better in my head." I mumbled.

"I really am sorry." she apologized again, as she took the cup from the tray and gave me the rest of the can instead. "Can I get you a complimentary drink or anything?"

"Maybe some crackers?" I suggested. "I didn't have breakfast, and I'm a bit hungry."

"We have pretzels." she offered in response. "Is that okay instead?"

"That would be fine." I agreed.

I glanced around furtively for a second, and then whispered a follow up request.

"Maybe a White Russian?"

Sherri smiled again.

"Not a problem." she responded. "I'll get that to you in a little bit. In the meantime... here you go."

She reached onto the shelf of the cart and handed me a fistful of pretzel packs. There had to be at least eight or nine of them!

"Wow, thanks Sherri!" I exclaimed. "By the way, my name's Jack."

"Well Jack," she replied, "It's nice to meet you. I wish it were under different circumstances though. I promise, in the eleven years I've been doing this, I've never dropped a drink in someone's lap before."

"First time for everything." I responded with a smile. "I'll look forward to that drink later on."

Sherri nodded, and resumed her duties. Perhaps forty five minutes or so later, she returned with a White Russian as she had promised, and then squatted next to me so that we were eye to eye.

"So, what brings you to San Diego, Jack?" she inquired. "Business?"

To engage me in casual conversation like this was totally unexpected, and also totally out of the realms of a normal flight attendant's actions. She was interested; that was certain, and I hated to be the bearer of bad news. I mean, she was totally drop-dead gorgeous. She reminded me a lot of the adorable adult film star, Laura Bentley.

"Well, I'm meeting a friend." I explained, as gingerly as I could.

The last thing I wanted to do was upset her, but she was used to dealing with people and understood what I was trying to say.

"Male or female?" she quipped.

I burst out laughing, and she giggled along with me. It was that same giggle she'd used earlier, when I made the comment about sticky pants, and I was beginning to wish I'd met her first, instead of Kari, but that's life.

"Female." I replied. "I met her online. We're going to cruise up PCH and see the redwoods."

"Well," Sherri said with a sigh, "it was worth a shot. At least you're not meeting another guy though. That would just completely ruin the thought."

She stood up and leaned over.

"I hope you have a wonderful time, and I mean that." she said quietly. "It was probably dumb anyway, since you're two thousand miles away from me."

"Sherri," I responded, "I really wish I'd met you first. It's not dumb. Besides, you're a flight attendant. You can live anywhere and still keep your job. I mean- if it worked out." I stammered.

It was beginning to get a little bit awkward, but just then, Fate herself stepped in. A loud commotion was emanating from First Class, and Sherri looked up.

"I've got to go!" she burst out. "It sounds like there's an unruly passenger up front."

She headed up the aisle, and I followed her. Not because I was nosy or anything, but because I also happen to be an auxiliary sheriff's deputy. We are technically never off duty; we always stop at a wreck or lend assistance whenever we can. This was no exception. Sherri was so focused on getting to the situation, that she didn't even realize I was behind her, until we reached the scene.

An obviously intoxicated female was trying to open the emergency exit; screaming something about giant spiders and space roaches swarming all over the plane. Just about that time, Sherri noticed me standing slightly behind her.

"Get back in your seat Jack!" she commanded authoritatively. "I appreciate your concern, but we have this under control."

"I doubt it." I responded coolly, opening my wallet and displaying my badge and ID. "She's obviously tweaking on something. Prolly jacked up on acid or something. Between the booze and the high altitude, she's on a free ride to Blitzville. Four sets of titties are going to get her under control? I have serious reservations about that."

The three other stewardesses were desperately trying to pry the woman from the door, while Sherri frantically grabbed the microphone and relayed the situation to the cockpit. She waved at me with her free hand.

"If you can do something, then go ahead!" she exclaimed. "There's no sky marshal on this flight."

"Tell the passengers to fasten their seat belts!" I instructed. "If she does get that door open, they won't be blown out."

There is a common misconception that when you encounter a sudden drop in pressure, that you will be "sucked out," but in reality, the exact opposite is true. The higher pressure will literally blow you into the lower pressure zone.

Sherri calmly instructed the passengers to fasten their seat belts over the PA, while I lent a hand to the three poor women trying to wrestle the psycho bitch away from the door. She was still screaming about the insect invasion that was commandeering the plane from outer space.

"I've got to get out of here!" she hollered. "They're going to eat all of us!"

"Hey Lady," I said in a loud voice, as I tapped her on the shoulder, "look at this."

Like the idiot I figured her for, she turned to look at me - and like a scene from a budget 1970's movie - I punched her squarely between the eyes; knocking her out cold.

"I can't believe people still fall for that." I muttered, as several people in the section clapped approvingly.

Due to the curtain that separated the sections, the rest of the passengers were oblivious to what had just transpired.

I dragged the unconscious woman away from the door and rolled her face down on the deck, as Sherri grabbed a set of disposable zip cuffs and handed them to me. I pulled her hands behind her back, and cinched the ties snugly around her bony, drug-laden wrists.

"You there!" I said to a hefty bearded guy in a navy blue suit. "Gimme a hand to get her into her seat, would you?"

He nodded and jumped to his feet, all too eager to help now that the danger had passed. Between the two of us, we got her belted securely into her seat, just as she started coming around. She struggled for several seconds, before laying eyes on me.

"You!" she screamed. "You hit me! I'm going to sue you!"

She twisted violently in her seat, trying desperately to wriggle free.

"And if you don't shut your mouth, I'm going to hit you again." I replied calmly. "Now sit there and shut the fuck up, or I'm going to gag you on top of it, got it?"

I could hear Sherri giggling again, and I was really wishing more than ever, that I had met her first. She was everything I'd ever wanted in a beer and less (if you get that line, you're showing your true age); she was absolutely gorgeous, and she had a sense of humor on top of it. Oh well, it is what it is, right?

I opted to stay up front for the duration of the flight - in the event the woman attempted any further shenanigans - but within thirty minutes or so, she passed out and began snoring loudly. The pilot had radioed ahead to Lindy Field, the situation, so upon landing, airport police boarded the plane and arrested her prior to releasing her later on to SDPD. We were all of course, interviewed about what had happened, and after a delay of about forty five minutes or so, we were finally allowed to disembark.

"I'm really sorry to see you leave, Jack," Sherri said quietly, "but if you want to stay in touch, here is my number."

She handed me a piece of paper with her phone number written on it, and I put it in my wallet. I retrieved my carry-ons and left the plane, following the signs for the baggage claim. As I entered the lower level, I was expecting Kari to be waiting for me, but as I looked around, no one matching her picture was to be seen. After several minutes, I found the correct carousel and picked up my other bag. I then walked over to the nearby information station and requested a page.

"Kari G. Please meet your party at the welcome desk." blared over the PA system.

I continued waiting for another ten minutes or so, and to my surprise Sherri suddenly appeared, dragging her wheeled bag behind her.

"Hey Jack!" she called out. "Are you okay? Where's your friend?"

"I don't know." I replied, looking somewhat crestfallen. "I think maybe I've been stood up."

"What a bitch!" Sherri exclaimed angrily. "Do you have her number? Call her!"

I couldn't believe that I had in all of this, not even thought about calling her. I dialed her number, and got a familiar beep, followed by a computer voice telling me the number had been disconnected or was no longer in service.

"Number's disconnected." I said quietly, looking down.

I was totally humiliated. I was not only stood up, I was also stranded over two thousand miles away from home, and my return flight was another two weeks out. I had nowhere to go, and I had nowhere near enough money with me to stay in a motel all of that time. I felt totally used, and I felt like crying. None of my training had prepared me for this.

Just then, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and I looked up. Sherri was looking at me intently, and for the first time, I noticed her eyes. They were diachromatic; two different colors in each iris. The inner ring was a rich golden color, while the outer ring was a deep, dollar bill green. They were just as gorgeous as she was.

"I'm sorry, Jack." she said quietly. "I can't even begin to imagine how you must feel."

"I can't believe I fell for this." I lamented. "She must have had me pegged from the start."

She had indeed; and in fact at that very moment, she and her skinny lesbian girlfriend with rainbow hair and three nose rings, were laughing their asses off in South San Francisco. "Kari," whose real name was Nora, was in reality, close to three hundred pounds, with dyed black hair and glasses. God only knows whose picture she had used, but it was most definitely, not her!

Sherri hugged me, and I embraced her tightly, doing my best not to fall apart.

"Jack," she said quietly, "why don't you come home with me? I know you're tired and not in any mood to try and find someplace right now. I trust you. We can sort it all out in the morning, okay?"

"That is very generous of you," I said gratefully, "but I don't want to impose."

"You're not, don't worry." she replied. "You sure helped me out earlier. It's the least I can do. Besides, I can wash that sticky mess out of your pants."

We both burst out laughing, and I nodded.

"Okay, thank you." I replied. "It means a lot to me. God, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up. Why were you even coming this way? Don't you have special employee parking somewhere else?"

"We do, but I was late the other day." Sherri explained. "I figured I'd just park in the garage and take my chances with the gatekeeper. Lucky for you. Come on, Jack."

I followed her to her car, and she popped the trunk. I placed her bag in first, and then both of mine.

"Ready?" she inquired with a smile.

"I guess so." I replied. "Where do you live?"

"Lemon Groove." she said, as she backed the car out of the space and headed for the exit. "Off of Skyline Drive."

"Lemon what?" I inquired.

Sherri laughed.

"We have odd nicknames for things here." she explained. "Lemon Groove, the Sports Aroma, Escondildo..."

"Escondildo." I chuckled. "Now that's funny."

Thirty minutes later, we turned onto Skyline Drive. A cross street suddenly caught my attention- "Jamacha."

"Hammocka?" I guessed, using my seventh grade Spanish as a reference as we passed it.

Sherri laughed.

"No, but you're a lot closer than most." she replied. "Most people call it Jamaica. It's pronounced 'Hammashaw.'"

"I sure have a lot to learn about California." I lamented.

Sherri laughed again, and put her hand on my thigh.

"Don't worry," she assured me, "I'll teach you everything you need to know."

We pulled into the driveway of her small, pink stuccoed house, and she smiled.

"Home sweet money pit." she said. "C'mon in."

We took our stuff out of the trunk and entered the house through the back door and into the kitchen. Like many southern California small homes or apartments, it featured a kitchen, living room and two bedrooms, with a gas heater in the wall in the hallway for heat in the rare event it dropped below 90 degrees. Okay, that's an exaggeration. When I lived in San Diego (for real) back in 1988, it did get down to 43 one morning.

"Here's the bedroom." she said, pointing, before entering and dropping her bag on the floor. "Put your stuff down."

I'll have to admit; I was a little confused. There were two bedrooms in the house. Why was she inviting me into her own room? Not that I was complaining, mind you.

"There's no spare?" I inquired carefully.

"Well there is, but it's full of junk." she explained. "And there's no bed in it. I don't have many friends, and I never have any visitors, so it serves its purpose. Why, are you scared to sleep with me? There's two sides to the bed, Jack. Pick one and stay there. We're both adults and I trust you. You can sleep on the couch if you prefer."

"No, this is fine." I answered quickly. "Thank you."

Sherri smiled.

"I don't know about you, but I am starving! And I don't feel like cooking. Let's get cleaned up and go out for dinner." she suggested. "There's a great steak place over in Santee. They cook them right in the middle of the restaurant, and they are so tender."

"Sounds good to me!" I said brightly. "With all of that ruckus, I never did get to eat those pretzels you gave me."

"Aww, you poor thing!" she cooed. "Come on, Jack; I'll get you a towel. You can shower first, okay?"

I shrugged, and followed her to the bathroom. She took a towel from the hall closet and handed it to me.

"There you go." she said with a smile. "Don't use up all of the hot water now."

I turned the shower on and did my best to fight the urge to jerk off. I really needed to, as I wouldn't be able to do so later on in bed, and she was so damned hot that I almost couldn't control it. As if sensing my thoughts, Sherri suddenly popped back into the bathroom fully nude. To my astonishment, she pulled the curtain back and stepped into the shower with me!

If I thought she was gorgeous with her clothes on, she was ten times hotter without them! Her tits were perfect; mid-sized C's that were as firm as a teenager's, with pudgy nipples just begging to be sucked. There was no stopping my dick from erecting, and I could feel it stiffening to a forty-five degree angle.

"Hello, Handsome." she said sultrily, as she put her arms around me. "I decided not to wait to take my shower too. Oh my; is that lovely hard-on because of little ol' me?"

"You know it is!" I managed to croak, without my voice breaking completely. "My god Sherri, you are a living goddess!"

She smiled and gripped my cock firmly; squeezing and pulling on it with a steady pressure that helped to at least temporarily reduce the throbbing.

"We have two options Jack." she said, kissing me on the mouth and running her tongue around mine. "We can try and eat dinner in such an awful state of mind, or we can just stay here and do what we both want to do, and maybe have a bag of chips later on. What do you say?"

"I say," I responded, reaching out and squeezing her firm tits feverishly, "that I've suddenly lost my appetite. For food that is. I think I could just eat you up though."

"I want you to fuck me." she stated emphatically. "I'm just as hot for you, as you are for me. I'm glad that bitch stood you up! I have a lot of personal days coming. Why don't you and I take that road trip instead?"

"For real?" I asked incredulously. "You mean it?"

"The sex or the road trip?" she inquired mischievously. "'Cuz I want both. What about you?"

"Both." I agreed.

"Come on then, let's fuck!" Sherri said enthusiastically. "Believe it or not, it's been almost two years, and I am so tired of diddling myself! I want to feel a cock deep inside of my cunt and I want to feel it squirting all up inside of me. Think you can do that?"