I smiled, self-assured and giddy as I moved along the wide airport hallway toward my gate. The sound of the rubberized hard-plastic wheels of my carry-on rolled along the tile behind me. The small bag was all I would need for my spontaneous four-day, three-night trip to Miami. The bag was almost excessive for the scant clothing inside.

What I did need was a change of scenery. Work had been busy and stressful. It was also too long since I’d had a good fuck. Endless mid-west summer days can feel stagnant with both humidity and action. Walking into work Monday morning pushed me over the edge. In minutes I booked a flight to Miami, a hotel on South Beach, and submitted my vacation request to my boss. Within my first half hour, all were confirmed. It was disappointing that the only available seat on the plane was the middle in the back row. I counted it a small inconvenience for finishing the week in Miami Beach.

Seventy-two hours later, I arrived at the airport instead of work. I breezed through the almost non-existent Thursday morning security lines, a full two hours before departure. My smile broadened, now walking toward my gate with nothing between me and my much-needed “me” time, in a beautiful place where no one knows me. At least not yet.

Seeing my gate ahead of me, I decided to duck into a lounge, conveniently located before it. I was ready to get my long-weekend party started. Large windows covered the back wall with views of the runways, offering most of the light in the room. I took a stool halfway down the long bar. Small tables dotted the other half of the room.

“What can I get you?” the handsome bartender in his fifties asked.

“Martini, please.”

“Anything special with it?”

“Make it dirty,” I answered.

“Would love to,” he answered, in a tone devoid of any subtlety for the double-entendre.

I smiled. He was the first of many I hoped would hit on me in the days ahead. When it came, I took a sip and relished the moment. My vacation had started.

“This seat taken?” a warm, deep voice asked, interrupting my blissful daze.

“Uh, no,” I answered, looking to my left, toward the sound of his voice. My smile instantly grew at the sight of the uniformed stranger.

Most of the stools were empty at the extended bar, making his request about the one next to me intentional. I watched his attempt to be restrained, taking in a fuller view of me. My long, curled blond hair cascaded over my shoulders; my blue eyes sparked with excitement; my white smile contrasted my tan skin. The sunlight streaming through the plate glass windows offered a silhouette of my five-foot-ten fit, slender form through the almost sheer white cotton mini dress. Spaghetti straps led to a low scoop neckline. The broderie Anglaise hem fell just over the barstool seat, showing off my long legs. The silhouette made it clear the only clothing beneath the dress might be panties, but it was impossible to be certain.

He smiled back and commandeered the stool. “Thank you.” The muscular, pilot, looking to be in his early forties, was six-foot with dark hair, deep brown eyes, and a strong jaw. His sharply pressed white shirt and black pants covered a body that looked equally as firm as his uniform. He set his white hat down on the bar while pulling his small garment bag close behind.

“Whata you have?” the bartender asked him, with less warmth than offered to me.

“Rum and Coke,” he answered.

“Coming right up, Captain.”

“Aren't there laws about drinking and flying?” I teased, with a coy glance and smile in his direction.

“There are,” he answered back. “But they only apply if you’re flying and drinking at the same time. 

I looked at him curiously. Why else would a pilot in uniform be at the airport, except to fly?

“Just finished a shift. I’m deadheading a jump seat for an early flight in the morning.”

 I took another sip of my martini. “That makes sense,” I said sarcastically.

“Sorry,” he responded genuinely. “I’m just catching a ride now for an early flight I’m scheduled for out of Miami in the morning. 

“That’s where I’m going,” I answered.

“Miami?”

“Yep,” sizing him up again.

There was a sudden, new, lust-filled tension between us. The air thickened with obvious but unspoken possibilities. Our small talk flowed easily, laced with subtle flirting.

“Nate. Nate Turner,” he said, putting his hand out to shake.

“Katie. Katie Kingston,” I answered, sliding my long, slender fingers into his firm grip.

Our conversation continued to flow easily, including his offer to show me around Miami. As time passed, the nuances of our flirting dissolved with the second drink. I was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol and enjoying myself. The vacation was off to a good start, and the plane hadn’t even left yet.

Nate glanced at his watch. “They’ll be boarding soon,” he said.

I reached into my purse for my wallet.

“I’ve got this,” Nate said, nonchalantly. He dropped three twenties and a ten on the bar. “Walk you to your gate?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

We arrived at the gate and found two seats. “If you’ll excuse me for just a moment. I need to check in. I’ll be right back.”

Nate walked up to the gate agent and showed his badge. There was some friendly small talk, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Just as he returned the agent announced the plane was boarding. I still debated his offer to show me around.

“We welcome boarding group A aboard,” the woman’s voice over the loudspeaker said.

“That’s us,” he said.

I laughed. “That might be you,” I said. I held up my phone, showing my back-of-the-plane, middle-seat boarding pass with seat 38E. “Group D for me,” I said.

“Yeah, they just told me they gave your seat away,” he said. “That’s not yours anymore.”

“What?!” I cried, shocked. “No! I need to be on that plane!”

Nate smiled. “Then let’s get onboard. Refresh the app. I think your boarding pass has you in Group A.”

I refreshed my screen. The boarding pass showed Group A, with seat 4A. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Like I said, ‘that’s us.’”

As we boarded, I realized seat 4A was the window seat in the back row of first class. “Here, let me help you with your bag,” he said. I slid into the spacious legroom and plopped into the wide, plush leather chair. I looked up as he slipped my carry-on into the overhead compartment, allowing a full view of his muscular body displayed in front of me. Nate moved in next to me and sat down. He said he preferred the back row, for the privacy it offered with the back wall He added that most of the attention is usually given to passengers in the front rows.

“Good morning, Nate,” the pretty flight attendant said with a drop of seduction in her glance and voice. She studied me. “And Ms. Kingston?”

“Katie,” I said, feeling spoiled.

“Glad you’re with us, Katie. I’m Leandra. Let me know if there is anything I can do or get you to make your flight more enjoyable.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“Although I think you’re in good hands,” she offered with a wink.

I blushed.

“Scotch and soda for me,” Nate said.

“Anything for you, Katie?”

“Seven and seven, please,” I answered.

“Very good,” she said. “I like your style.”

Leandra brought the drinks, with water and linen napkins. As I reached for my drink, I accidentally hit the water glass on Nate’s tray. It fell over onto his lap, emptying completely. Nate tried to jump up quickly, but his seatbelt held him in place.

“Oh no! I am so sorry. I am so sorry!” Without thinking, I instinctively grabbed my napkin, reached over, and put it on his lap, pressing to soak up the water. My fingers felt his cock along the inside of his leg, over his pants. I looked at him, stunned and embarrassed. He was as surprised as I was. I blushed and froze, paralyzed at the moment. His cock grew beneath my fingers.

“It’s okay,” he said, trying to salvage the awkwardness of the moment, dabbing the napkin on his lap.

I smiled devilishly at the feel of him growing. Daringly, I raked my fingernails over his pants across the inside of his leg as I pulled my hand away.

Nate looked at me with surprise, then answered my lustful smile with his own. My touch was a coquettish tease and invitation.

Leandra kept the drinks coming throughout the flight, building on the buzz I boarded with. Inhibitions dissolved and our flirting escalated with playful touches, flips of my hair, and suggestive teasing.

“Anything more I can get you two?” Leandra asked, seeing the secret sparks flying in the back row of her section.

“Do you have a blanket?” Nate asked. “Katie’s looking a little chilly.”

I shot a look over at Nate, surprised.

“Of course,” Leandra said, offering a knowing smile to Nate, then to me. “I’ll be right back,” she answered. She returned right away, reaching the blanket over to me. “Here you go, Katie.”

“Thank you,” I said.

As Leandra turned away, Nate reached over and opened the blanket to cover me from the waist down. He daringly slid his hand under the blanket and onto my bare thigh. “This okay?” he asked, leaning back into his chair.

I smiled, pleasantly surprised by his bold touch. Butterflies stirred in my stomach. His hand felt warm and electric. “Perfect,” I answered. 

After only a minute of sitting in silence, feeling electricity between us, Nate slid his hand up a few more inches, with a look, as if asking for approval.

I smiled and nodded yes. His hand continued its gradual ascent up my soft leg, slipping under the tiny string of my thong. I purred. His fingers continued teasingly to my labia. The wetness of my pussy betrayed my growing arousal. My body felt warm and electric at his touch. I glanced over to him, bit my lip with a hint of a smile, and nodded yes, giving him permission to finger me under the blanket.

Nate’s fingers moved slowly at first, gently stroking the length of my pussy. I reclined the back of my chair further, giving him easier access. His finger circled my clit, mercilessly toying with it to heighten my arousal.

Fuck, that felt good. I was overdue for an orgasm and was in disbelief at what was happening. He masterfully stroked and worked me up, before slipping his long, thick finger into me. I gasped. My mouth went dry. He fucked me with his finger slowly at first, occasionally pulling out to move again up my slit, to caress my swollen clit. My breathing quickened with the intensifying pleasure. I turned my head to look over at him with a smile. He answered with a kind one of his own, enjoying seeing me getting lost in desire.

Nate moved his finger again into me, with a heightened determined intent. My entire body hummed with pleasure as he worked me up to the edge, holding me there on the brink. Oh, fuck, I wanted to cum. I gasped again, doing my best to maintain composure to keep building orgasm quiet. I bit my lip again, leaned into the window, and gripped the armrest, bracing myself for what felt like a tsunami. 

Nate leaned over and whispered into my ear, “Hold it.”

I gripped the armrest tighter.

“Hold it,” he repeated.

My head dizzied. My breathing quickened. I was in another world. It felt so good!

“Cum, you little Slut,” he said. It was impossible for him to know that talking that way to me intensified every sexual nerve in my body.

I gushed. My body quaked in the seat. I whimpered, wanting to scream, as the climax crashed over me like a giant wave of pleasure. Nate continued to fuck me with his finger, moving harder and faster. My knees closed together from the intensity of the long overdue orgasm. Nate reached over with his other hand, and opened my legs, refusing to allow the climax to diminish.

“Oh fuck!” I whispered, as my body finally calmed. I quietly took in deep breaths, trying to regain composure and consciousness.

Nate glanced over with a look of satisfied accomplishment. “Hopefully, we’re just getting started.”

“If you handle a plane as well as you handle me, you can fly me anytime,” I answered. My breathing slowed. I nodded, then blushed when I looked up and caught Leandra’s eyes from across the cabin.

The plane soon landed. We grabbed our carry-ons and I followed his lead as we moved together through the terminal. He knew the place well. He hailed a cab. There was still uncertainty about what was happening next.

“Share a cab?” I invited.

“That’d be great,” he said.

We sat pressed next to one another as the yellow car made its way to my hotel. Our fingers moved across one another’s legs. Time and sparks flew before the cab pulled in front of my hotel.

“Dinner tonight?” Nate offered, being a gentleman, not assuming anything. 

“I’d love that,” I said.

“Wonderful,” he said with a warm smile. “Until then…”

“Until then,” I interrupted, “want to enjoy the wonderful ocean view my room is supposed to have?”

“I’d love nothing more,” he answered with another glance down my body. The thick Florida humidity moistened my skin, making the thin fabric of my short dress almost transparent. My nipples stiffened, confirming my continuing arousal. Nate used his phone to pay the cabbie.

Within minutes, we were in the elevator, silently climbing to the top floor. My long fingers boldly reached over to rake the front of his pants, ignoring the elevator camera catching my every move. I used my phone for keyless entry and locked the door behind us.

“Now, I’m going to finish what you started,” I said with a sultry smile.

We ravenously took each other’s clothes off. It was a much easier task for him than me, stripping me naked in seconds. Time flew as we fucked the rest of the day and night away. We did have that dinner he promised but ordered in.

I awoke with the rising Miami sun shining in my eyes, blanketing the bed in warm sunlight. I glanced around, realizing he already left to make his early flight. He took the time to order breakfast for me that was waiting in a warming cart across the room. A small note sat on the cart, expressing how much he enjoyed our flight together, and included his contact information. He hoped we’d fly together again soon.

I smiled, glad for the good start to my trip. It was only the start. I was ready for what happened next.