Standing at the curb, I watched as the family car pulled out and drove away. With a sigh of relief, I shouldered my backpack and turned toward the terminal. A secret shiver of excitement skittered down my spine as I grinned and strode purposefully toward my gate and into my future.
At nineteen, I was filled with anticipation and the joy of life. Finally I was going to be on my own. My family wasn't exactly well off, but they did okay for themselves. When I graduated from high school, we made a deal. I wanted to attend UCLA in Los Angeles. They wanted me to go to school locally. We compromised…if I attended the local junior college for two years, they would cover the cost and send me to the school of my choice to finish the last two years. I never thought I'd make it, but last spring I completed all the credits I needed for transfer and everything was set for me to start classes next week.
The soles of my worn Reeboks squeaked on the highly polished vinyl floors as I paused mid-step to check the airport monitors for flight information. American Airlines flight #563 non-stop to Los Angeles departing gate 23 at 11:58 PM, on time…the red-eye. Well, at least I'll be able to sleep most of the way there. My family teased me about my ability to sleep nearly anywhere. I had a tendency to push myself until I couldn't go anymore and then drop where I stood.
Stopping in one of the airport concessions, I grabbed a magazine and a candy bar for the flight. The airport was busy for this time of night and there were several people ahead of me at the counter. I was standing in line, thumbing through my magazine, when the most beautiful woman in existence strolled leisurely past the shop, heading for the security checkpoint. She was taller than average, with shiny dark hair that just brushed her broad shoulders. Her narrow waist and long legs were encased in black denim and the moderate heels of her polished black boots tapped a staccato rhythm on the solid floor.
Wow, what wouldn't I give to have that sitting next to me all the way to LA. Grinning as I paid the tired looking, middle-aged clerk, I dropped the candy bar into my backpack and stuffed the magazine in an outer pocket. Hurrying into the corridor in hopes of catching another glimpse of the woman, I was disappointed that she had vanished into the crowd.
Breathing a sigh, I headed toward the checkpoint, swinging the pack from my shoulder onto the conveyer. As I turned to step through the arch, I saw my mystery woman weaving in and out of the crowd ahead of me. Good I thought, if I hurry, I can catch up and maybe watch her for a while. Just then the alarm sounded and the man in front of me was asked to empty his pockets and try it again. By the time they figured out that the metal on his jacket was causing the problem, the statuesque brunette had once again vanished.
Damn…guess it's just not my night.
Gate 23 must have been two miles from the metal detectors, the last gate in that wing of the terminal. I checked in at the service desk, my pack my only luggage. We had shipped everything else airfreight and it was waiting for me in my new studio apartment in Westwood. Sliding into a seat by the window, I gazed out into the blackness, finally feeling tired from a day of high spirits and excitement. Glancing at my watch, I wondered if I could manage a short nap in the twenty minutes left until flight time. Deciding it was worth a try, I stuffed my pack behind my head and closed my eyes.
Drifting in and out, the noise in the terminal seemed almost surreal. My mystery woman moved through my dreams with graceful sensuality that left me squirming in my seat. Good thing the seats in the waiting area were uncomfortable enough to warrant it. Hovering just on the edge of consciousness, I opened my eyes when I heard the boarding call for my flight. Blinking to clear my vision, I caught a glimpse of the dark beauty reflected on the glass in front of me. Whipping my head around, I searched the crowd for her, but found nothing.
Just a figment, babe…just a figment.
Dragging myself to my feet, I was grateful to finally be boarding the plane. That meant that I could really nap…pillow, blanket and a window seat so I can lean against the wall. Hope the plane's not too crowded. Maybe the middle seat won't be taken.
Passengers filed past the gate attendant, dutifully displaying their boarding passes and moving rapidly down the jet port ramp only to bottleneck again at the entrance to the airliner. They moved like cattle through the narrow aisle, stopping to stuff their carry on luggage into overhead compartments before taking their seats.
The late August humidity hung in the air, the ventilation systems inactive when the plane was on the ground. I trudged slowly, one step at a time, turning sideways to slip past people stopped in front of me. Intent on checking row numbers, I didn't notice my seatmate until I had tossed my pack into the overhead and stooped to sit down.
I was captured by the bluest pair of eyes I'd ever seen, set over an aquiline nose and full, lush lips. My mystery woman.
Stunned, I came to a halt and just stared. She returned the gaze as her lips twitched into a lopsided grin and she half stood to allow me access to my seat. Nodding in confusion, I sank down, concentrating on fastening my seatbelt to avoid her penetrating gaze. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she slid back into her seat and refastened her own belt. Now that everyone was seated she stretched her long legs into the aisle and crossed them at the ankle.
Damn…six feet if she's an inch and most of it legs…long, muscular legs. A surge of heat spread though my body in waves, melting my bones and reddening my fair skinned cheeks. I hated the fact that I blushed so easily even though everyone else thought it was cute. It always gave me away. I could only hope the stranger hadn't noticed.
Nothing like sitting next to an infatuated teenage lesbian all the way from Philadelphia to Los Angeles. I chuckled softly as I mentally reprimanded myself. I had long since come to terms with my preference for romantic involvement with women, but I realized that the rest of the world might not be nearly as open-minded as I was. I had learned the hard way to be discrete.
The flight attendant made her way down the aisle offering pillows and blankets to the settling passengers. Her high pitched voice painfully repeated the monotonous phrase as she paused at each row. When she got to us I cut off her shrill offer with an "I'll take two pillows, please," wondering why anyone would need a blanket in this oppressive heat.
The dark woman took both a pillow and a blanket. Turning to look at me, she said, "You'd better take a blanket too. When they turn on the AC, you could hang meat in these things."
Nodding, I accepted the blanket the attendant was holding out to me. I murmured my thanks and laid the blanket aside for later. Settling into my seat, I tucked both pillows against my side and laid my head against the window to wait for take off. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, I noticed my seatmate had opened a novel and was engrossed in reading. Through my blurred vision I noticed the title, but my sleep fogged brain never made the connection.
This was supposed to be a five and a half hour flight, scheduled to arrive at LAX at 5:30 AM. I managed to sleep undisturbed for the first two hours before waking to my lovely seatmate covering me lightly with the spare blanket.
Smiling, she whispered, "You were shivering."
Blinking sleepy green eyes up into her soft blue ones, I murmured, "Thanks."
Shifting in my seat to ease the kinks caused by sleeping in such an awkward position, I banged my elbow against the armrest. Wincing from the sharp stab of pain, I tried to find a better position. Sensing my discomfort, the woman leaned over and lifted both arms on the middle seat, patting her lap and asked, "Wanna lay down?"
My heart skipped a beat as I tried to imagine the feel of those firm thighs against my cheek. Nodding slowly, I shifted to lie on my side on the seat and rested my head in her incredibly warm lap. Nope I thought, no way I could have known how good this would feel.
She spread the blanket over me once more and, resting her hand on my shoulder, relaxed into her seat. I, on the other hand, was anything but relaxed. Thoughts of just exactly what lay beneath my head nearly drove me insane and I swear it must have taken an hour for me to fall asleep again.
I must be dreaming. I was lying on my back, arms at my sides, dragging my nails lightly over the fabric-covered surface, but gaining little purchase. The delicious warmth between my thighs had me gently rocking my hips against the sensual pressure being applied to my center. My eyes fluttered open and I stiffened, realizing where I was. I may not be dreaming, but this isn't Kansas anymore either.
In the low light of the cabin I could see my seatmate above me, long arm disappearing beneath the blanket covering my body. I parted my lips to speak and she touched a finger from her other hand against my mouth to silence me. I nodded my agreement and that hand continued down my neck and slid beneath my tank top to caress a hardened nipple. She turned her body toward me both to gain better access and to shield me from any curious night ramblers.
She pushed my shirt down over my shoulders beneath the blanket and caressed my bare breasts, rolling and pinching my hardening nipples. I stifled a moan and lifted my hips to encourage her to continue moving those long fingers under my skirt. She raked sharp nails against the silky fabric of my panties, her smiling face barely distinguishable in the shadows. Moving the thin wisp of silk aside, she dipped her fingers into my drenched center, sliding them up and across my sensitive clit before lifting them to her lips to taste me.
Her tongue slipped out to meet her fingers and she sucked each slim digit into her mouth, careful to get every drop of my juices. Grinning, she whispered "Sorry I can't taste you up close and personal."
Before I could think of a response, her hand was back under the blanket and my clothing, stroking my clit insistently as she concentrated the efforts of her other hand on my breasts.
I shivered in my efforts to control my arousal, acutely aware of the need to remain silent. Our surroundings, the possibility of getting caught and the fact that I didn't even know her name all added to the excitement.
It was long, sweet and slow. She stared into my eyes all the time she was gently sending me to the edge of my endurance. Her fingers glided smoothly over my swollen nub, relentless…never breaking rhythm, fully controlling the situation. All I could do was sink into the feelings and try not to scream my frustration.
Lifting her other hand to her lips, she wet her fingers and spread the dampness around my tingling nipples. Slowly changing the speed and direction of her fingers on my clit, she pinched and twisted my nipples, pushing me closer to the edge. Keeping me hovering on the brink of satisfaction seemed to delight her, as she would sense just how far she could push without me completely losing control.
By the time she let me come, I was delirious with need, my head turning helplessly from side to side. I was about to resort to begging, when she poised two fingers at my soaked center and thrust inside, continuing to tease my clit with her thumb. At the same moment, she pinched a nipple between her fingers, raking a nail over the tip. My hips rose off the seat and bucked wildly as I stuffed a fist in my mouth to keep from crying out my pleasure. The orgasm started slowly and grew exponentially, like the magnitude of an earthquake, until it exploded into sparkling colors behind my tightly closed eyelids.
Her hands slipped from my body and smoothed damp bangs back from my sweat-slicked forehead. She continued to softly stroke my hair as my breathing settled and I fell into a dreamless sleep.
Disoriented, I sat up when I heard the pilot announce our arrival in Los Angeles. Back in position leaning against the window, still in my seat belt, I was confused by the 'dream' I had experienced. I was only half listening as the pilot droned on about the temperature and air quality in Los Angeles. It's furkin' hot and smoggy…always is in August.
Not completely convinced I had been dreaming, I attempted to steal glances at my seatmate as we circled, then landed. As we taxied into the terminal, the raven-haired beauty turned to face me and offered a business card.
"Call me if you need...anything." She smiled enigmatically and rose from her seat just as the plane came to a full stop. She opened the overhead compartment and tossed my pack to me before removing her own briefcase. With her bag in one hand and her book in the other, she turned to make her way slowly up the aisle. I sat there stunned for a moment, staring blankly at the card in my hand wondering just what she meant by "anything." I read every word on the card, nothing registering, until I flipped it over and noticed the hand written number on the back marked 'home.'
Looking up to watch her walk away, I noticed the cover of the book she carried. Laughter bubbled up from deep inside as I scanned the title.
Tropical Storm.