"As pretty as an airport."
In no language that saying exists. It says so in the Hitchhikers guide to the Galaxy. And for good reason.
I walked past the hundreds of people sitting at their gates, waiting to board their departure from leisure towards another year of dreadfully monotone life. The ads for liter bottles of Johnny Walker Red Label and Marlboro cigarettes competing for attention with Toblerone and Chanel.
Very few smiles. Noise of kids screaming and parents in despair, realizing what will happen if the Delays get any worse.
Near Gate 7 a pair of legs catches my eye. Boyshorts. A bright orange top. Blonde hair and blue eyes boring straight into mine. I keep staring as I walk by.
So does she.
I stop and take measure of her. She's cute more then pretty and she looks more fun then hot. I nod at her and flash a short smile and move off towards the handicapped bathroom to wash my hands. I always choose those. They are large, usually clean, and lets face it, calm.
As the automatic faucet gives up the door opens and I slowly turn towards her and place my finger on her lips. I care not for her name, her country or her language. They are trivial and can only get in the way of what we want.
Her lips turn red and full under my slight pressure and her pupils widen with a mixture of fright, anticipation, and blatant animal lust. I can see she never dared do this before. I turn my hand to cup her cheek and gently move my thumb over her bottom lip. She opens her mouth for my finger and moves forward towards me mimicking my own movement. With a gentle nudge I turn her around so she faces the mirror and I stand behind her. She bites her lip, still unsure whether she wants this, but too excited to leave.
I lock the door slowly, looking straight in her mirror-twins eyes. She doesn't start to the door to escape, not even when I return my hand from the lock and cup her breast and push my face into her hair behind her ear. She instead turns around and kisses me full and wet and with barely contained demands of flesh.
I comply to those wishes and move my hands in her shorts, pushing them down and cupping her bottom. She jumps a bit when I lift her so she sits on the washstand and her pants drop to the floor. Her eyes sparkle and her lips shine.
I kiss her again and move gently downward, pulling the neck of her shirt down. She takes it off, knowing I wil rip it if she doesn't. Perhaps wanting just that... I step back and see her sit there all as intended by the Makers, and she shows me her most private thought as I kneel before her.
She's sweet and very warm and very well shaven, and she squeaks as I enter her with my tongue. The view is like the twelfth wonder of the world as she leans back against the mirror and relaxes under my incessant monologue of lust. Then she tightens and lets out a moan before grabbing my hair and pulling me up to kiss me and taste herself on my lips her hands groping and fighting my belt as if it were the Great Naga keeping her from the tree of life...
As my pride is revealed I enter her. Hard and fast. There can be no mercy, no hesitation. There can only be the moment. I pulsate inside her, growing to my full worth as I pump. She slams a hand onto the soap container to steady herself, spilling blueish gel onto the tabletop. Blue like her eyes, staring deep into mine, her lips as red a blood. I can see her getting nearer, falling away into herself, the moment in view.
She groans and breathes as on the verge of a heart attack and her stomach tenses like steel cable before she subdues a scream by biting her lip and clenching her eyes. I feel her squeezing me, feel her trying to pump me deeper inside herself before she opens her eyes and with a maniacal grin pushes me away towards the far wall.
I oblige and stand there as she drops off the washstand and kneels before me. She goes deep the first time. No delay, no fear, no shyness remaining. She goes deep and pulls on my soul and I can feel her wanting need in my fillings.
There is no defense, no quarter given. I grab her head and pull her off, and she knows what I want and grins and laughs as I shower her with my gift.
I stand panting and sweaty as she uses a finger to lap up all of me and stares into my eyes as she does, refusing the paper towel I grabbed for myself and her.
A minute later I am back outside eying the Johnny Walker ads, and walking towards Gate 21. I smile as the Last Call for flight 5685 to Glasgow at gate 7 booms through the Hall and walk on.
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