He grasped me firmly, but gently, just above my elbow and guided me
into a room, his room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were
alone. He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a
low, reassuring voice close to my ear "Just relax."
Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong,
calloused hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward
along my calves, slowly but steadily. My breath caught in my throat.
I knew I should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was
so experienced, so sure. When his hands moved up onto my thighs,
I gave a slight shudder, and partly closed my eyes. My pulse was
pounding. I felt his knowing fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage.
And then, as he cupped my firm, full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply.
Probing, searching, knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my
shoulders, slid them down my tingling spine and into my panties.
Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and
expectant. This is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge. A
man not used to taking 'No' for an answer. A man who would tell me
what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say . . .
"Okay ma'am, you can board your flight now."
Ed. note; We can hardly wait for our next flight...
Thanks to Peter W. for this gem.