"You know, it's strange. I don't even know your name," he says, leaning over the console and resting his forearms on it as he clasps his hands together.
"Why don't we keep it that way?" I murmur, distracted by the sight of his huge hands, the knuckles covered in scars. He cocks his head at me ever so slightly. I lean over the edge, letting my fingers crawl inches away from his skin. "Like I said earlier, I'm going for a clean start. When the plane touches down, that's the start of a new life for me. But until then...why not take full advantage of our time together?"
The corners of his lips twitch, but again, I can't tell exactly what he's thinking. The silence goes on for second after second as he stares into my eyes, and I feel a knot of worry begin to form in my stomach. Did I completely misread this situation?
"So after we land, we go our separate ways?" he finally asks.
"Exactly," I reply.
"That sounds...perfect," he finally murmurs. His eyes dart once toward the bathroom just behind our row. "Only thing is, this bum leg has left me...somewhat less than acrobatic."
"Ah. Well, the size of the first class bathrooms makes that a bit less of a problem," I reply with a smile.
"Everything's better up here," he says, and pauses again. I hold my breath, though I try to maintain a cool, confident exterior. "I'll meet you in there in two minutes."
I try not to seem too excited. "Perfect," I reply instead with a coy smile. I reach into my purse and discreetly tuck a condom into the sleeve of my cotton shirt. With a glance around to make sure that no one's been watching us, I nonchalantly stand up and turn to the back of the first class area where the bathrooms are. Most everyone else in the cabin seems to be sleeping, as the flight is nearing its end and the sky outside is dark, though there are a couple people toward the front illuminated by the glow of video screens.
I let myself into the bathroom and then close the door behind me, turning the lock. I quickly examine myself in the mirror: under-eye bags a bit better after the nap, hair slightly greasy but fine...how's my breath? I breathe into my hand and then turn on the faucet, leaning my mouth under the stream of water and then gargling before spitting it back out.
I give a quick glance over my body. I might not have been working out in a gym while in Paris, but I did walk everywhere. Had to, considering how many pastries I was eating at the bakery. I wish I were wearing cuter underwear beneath my yoga pants, but I didn't really consider the possibility of a quickie on the plane.
There are two soft knocks at the door. I take a deep breath. I'm regretting my decision to stop drinking at the beginning of the flight rather than the end. A few vodka sodas would really take the edge of my nervousness right now. In fact, I can't remember the last time I had a one-night stand sober. The thought strikes me a bit funny, but I don't have time to really turn it over in my mind. I reach forward and undo the lock, then step back against the sink.
He steps inside and snorts as he looks around. "You weren't kidding." He closes and locks the door behind him, leaning heavily on his left leg. I swallow hard. Standing next to him for the first time, I can see how far he towers over me. He must be as tall as my brother, nearly six foot three or four. "There's actually space in here for a lot of things," he says musingly as he steps forward until he's just inches away from me. "But since we should probably make this fast..."
His arm flies out and snakes around my waist. He pulls me against him hard, taking my breath away. I look up at him wide-eyed, feeling my heartbeat pounding. My breasts pillow against his chest, covered in a long-sleeved army green shirt. I freeze. I haven't felt this turned on in ages.
"Having second thoughts?" he asks with that infuriatingly hard-to-read expression.
I smile and slide my hand across his broad thigh and over his hardening cock. "Nope. You?"
His answer is to lean down and cover my mouth with his. I melt into him as our lips open at the same time and our tongues explore against each other. His mouth tastes like mint, but his scent up close is smoky, like charred wood. I'd love to take my time, but he was right about the need for speed.
I grudgingly pull away and whip my shirt over my head. He looks momentarily surprised and then grins. He must not have noticed before that I wasn't wearing a bra, which I stubbornly refuse to do on flights longer than a couple hours. He wraps one arm back around my waist and palms my right breast in his other one. My head sags back as he gently twists my nipple, and I gasp as he takes it in his mouth with a firm suck.
I reach out my hands and push his shirt up to the bottom of his pecs, running my hands over his etched abdominal muscles. He can't be bothered to stop his tongue action on my breasts long enough to take off his shirt, and I'm certainly not going to force the issue. Leaving the shirt halfway off, I move my hands down to his fly, tugging the zipper down and reaching inside his boxer shorts. I'm not surprised to find that the size of his cock more than matches the rest of his body. I wrap my hand firmly around it, moving up and down as I pull it out of his pants.