A Layover In Atlanta

Stranded overnight, Jess kicks off her goody two shoes

**************

You probably know someone like me. At home I'm a goody two shoes, the girl next door, the solid, dependable friend. Everyone leans on me from time to time, both my girlfriends and my male friends. Everyone likes me, everyone respects me, and nobody -- nobody at all -- wants to get into my panties. Somehow it would be a sacrilege just to use a girl like me for a one-time, one night, of sexual satisfaction and bliss. No, I'm just the asexual wonderful person everyone loves and admires. Yep, that's me.

Everyone would think I was a virgin, too, if it hadn't of been for Mike Croydon. Yeah, good old Mike: He saw the hot potential once he got my goody two shoes off. He showed the world what a slut I could be; he surely did. I'm not sure what his problem was, why he had to brag to everyone on Earth how he had laid me. He had even secretly taken a video of himself fucking me, so he could back up his braggadocio to all of his geeky friends.

Everyone in town was so outraged that he had defiled the princess they had put on a pedestal, ie, me, that they ran him out of town. I don't mean they physically chased him from town; it's just that every single other female in the tri-county area would not give him the time of day. Well, the lone exception was the town slut, Marybeth. She'd fuck anyone, everyone knew that, and she kept proving the veracity of the rumors of her easy virtue, over and over again.

Mike finally got so hard up he went after Marybeth. He just had to get laid. Men have needs, you know? Well, was he in for a surprise! Marybeth agreed to let him take her to dinner, but then she refused to have sex with him! He was so outraged that Marybeth could think she was too good for him, that he tried to force her, or to put it more bluntly, he tried to rape her in his outrage.

Mike might have succeeded, too, if Marybeth had not taken precautions. The town voyeur, Sherriff Andy, was secretly watching as Mike ripped off Marybeth's clothes, and perhaps torn between wanting to see a rape in progress and saving Marybeth from the classical 'fate worse than death,' he chose saving Marybeth. He was the law, after all. He felled Mike with one big swing of Marybeth's brother's old Louisville Slugger.

Mike woke up from his concussion in the town jail. He was arrested for assault, and then an ambulance took him to the country hospital for treatment. Marybeth, rumor has it, fucked Sherriff Andy for free, as his reward for having saved her. Marybeth always was a stand-up girl, even when she was on her back with her legs spread wide apart.

Anyway, I was one popular girl who was always lonely, from a sexual perspective. I had some toys, and they surely did help, but I often fantasized having a real flesh and blood penis inside me, like I had enjoyed with Mike, instead of the plastic Dan the Dildo so conveniently substituting most Friday nights.

I flirted with the idea of leaving town and starting over in a big city. I live in the south, and if you live in the south, you know as well as anyone the fun of changing airplanes in Atlanta. Usually it works out well, but it just didn't this time. I got stuck overnight in the airport.

Not relishing the idea of sleeping in the airport itself, I tried to get a room at one of the legions of airport hotels. It turns out everyone was stranded as well as me -- storms will do that -- and the others who were also stranded were faster, too, and there was nary a room to be had, no matter the price.

I was hungry, so I went to a vodka bar that had, well, lots of vodka, but it also had truly delicious shrimp cocktails. I like lime juice so I had a vodka gimlet to wash down my shrimp cocktail. People talk to each other in an airport vodka bar, as it turns out. I was a young, single woman, with a nice figure and -- I'm told -- a pretty face, and in addition I gave off innocent vibes. Well, I was fairly innocent, so it made sense. In other words, I was a sitting duck.

I was wearing a miniskirt, with bare legs, and was sitting on a bar stool. My legs were crossed, but still, I must have looked to be about 90% legs. I exist above the waist, too, with all the usual equipment: breasts, shoulder blades, a pretty face, and long silken hair, a soft brown in color; it's kind of a chestnut brown. The man next to me seemed to take it all in with a single glance. I could easily tell he was checking me out. I could also tell he enjoyed what was on display.

I kicked off my two shoes. I was sick and tired of being Ms. Goody Two Shoes, everyone's almost virgin on a pedestal. I was ready to have a little fun, so when the man struck up a conversation I used my gift of gab to keep it going.

The man had a name. He was Keith Croydon, trying to get back home to his wife and kids in Ohio. "I'm Jess," I said, and we shook hands. Our hands stayed together just a little too long. Damned if I would be the one to let go first, you know? We exchanged destinations and what we did to earn our respective livings.

"I took the precaution of reserving a room at the airport Renaissance hotel; had my airplane actually not been cancelled I would have lost the deposit, but as it turns out I have a room. Where are you crashing for the night?" Keith asked.

"I'm neither as rich nor as clever as you. Also, I'm risk averse, so I have nothing. All the hotels are full, so I guess I'll just snooze here in the airport," I replied.

Keith convinced me to come with him to the Renaissance. "Sometimes they have cancellations, and you'll be Jess-on-the-spot if they get one, you know?"

I knew the Renaissance was pricy, but the option of sleeping in the airport was so unpleasant that it was an easy decision. I went with Keith over to the Renaissance. Of course, they didn't have a room. Keith bought me a few drinks at the bar, and he gave me sympathy. The hotel bar was much nicer than the airport, and it had a comfortable couch, so I hoped I could just pretend to be too drunk and 'sleep it off' in the bar until someone kicked me out. Pathetic, right?

After an hour or so, Keith wished me luck and he headed up to bed. "See you at breakfast, I hope," he said. I knew his room had a double bed, but I guess he was scared I would seduce him or something if he invited me to share it with him. I would not have, of course, but he was not taking any chances with his marriage. I had to respect that.

By eleven at night I was crying into my fourth vodka gimlet, feeling sorry for myself. The cocktail waitress bid me goodnight, and I was left in the bar alone, with only the bartender left. I spilled out my sob story to him, and he offered me the tiny bedroom the bar staff had as a breakroom. I was so grateful, I spontaneously kissed him.

I texted Keith to let him know I had found a place to sleep; the back room of the bar. I didn't want Keith to worry about me. The smell of the bartender from when I had impulsively kissed him was still in my nostrils, tormenting me, as I texted Keith, thanking him for his concern.

Keith didn't like my solution and he texted back, asking me to please come to his room, 802. We could share the bed, he wrote. It was a king size bed, and we'd each have our own side. It would be fine. He apologized for not inviting me earlier.

I thought about it. The bartender had offered me a solution. I'd be uncomfortable, but hey, it was a place to sleep, and much better than the airport. I texted back and asked Keith if he had a T shirt I could sleep in? I had checked my carry-on and basically had only the clothes I was wearing.

Sure, no problem

Keith texted back. I picked up my shoes and took the elevator up to the eighth floor. Keith was in a nightshirt. I had never seen a man in a nightshirt before. I found it sexy. He's married, I reminded myself, and as I reminded myself I caught a glance at my two shoes I was holding. My goody two shoes.

Keith, you are about to meet the new, improved woman Jess, seductress extraordinaire. Who was I kidding? I didn't know thing one about seducing a man! I went to the bathroom and stripped nude. I washed my lingerie in the sink, so it would be wet and I would not be tempted to put it back on. I hung it up to dry, over a towel. I slipped Keith's T shirt over my naked body and checked myself out in the mirror.

The T shirt was huge on my slim, small body. It was certainly long enough to cover my pussy and even half of my thighs, but it fell off my right shoulder, almost (but not quite) to the point of flashing plenty of boob flesh. I have small breasts, but still they're a solid B cup and present something a man would love to see, I assume.

I bowed forward in front of a mirror to see what Keith might see, and whoa! There I was, nipples and all! This wouldn't do, and I reached for my bra, but it was still soaking wet. There was a hair dryer, of course, but as I bent over to get it I saw my two shoes. I said to myself, for the new, improved version of Jessica I was forcing myself to be, what would it matter anyway if Keith accidentally saw my boobs, nipples and all? Would the world come to a halt? Would I shrivel up and die? No, we'd probably both giggle in embarrassment and that would be it.

I stood straight. I was wearing a sack. Where had my hourglass figure gone? I took the belt of the terrycloth bathrobe the hotel offered (and offered to sell, as well) and belted Keith's T shirt around my waist. Much better! Then I pulled it down and it became tight around my boobs. My nipples stuck out prominently. Perfect.

I exited from the bathroom and walked over to Keith's side of the bed, giving him a little show of my lithe body in his belted T shirt. "Thank you, Keith, for sharing your bed with me tonight. You are a wonderful man," I said, and I kissed his cheek.

"I'm not sure my wife would agree," Keith said, as I began my trek around the bed to my side.

"There's really no need for her to know, now is there?" I asked. "I'm sure as hell not going to tell her, and nobody else knows I'm here, right?"

"Good point. Jess, you look very sexy in my T shirt, you know? I wish I weren't married," Keith said.

I did a little twirl, a full 360, showing off the latest in the modeling of a man's used T shirt. "I'm glad you think I'm sexy."

"Oh, yeah. No bra tonight?" Keith asked, focusing on the two points in the T shirt my nipples happily made.

"I washed my bra and panties in the sink. They're hanging up to dry, and they'll be nice and clean and dry to slip into the morning," I said.

"So you're naked under my T shirt?" Keith asked.

"Guilty," I said shyly. "Is that okay?"

"Well, it's awfully tempting," Keith said.

"Keith Croydon! What makes you think I'd be willing?" I asked in obvious mock outrage.

"Are you?" Keith asked.

"Maybe, I don't know. I'm kind of innocent, you know," I said.

"Really? What age are you, anyway?" Keith asked.

"Twenty-four," I replied, "And no, I'm not a virgin. There was only the one man, however, and said man turned out to be a skunk."

"Well if we do what I want tonight, you'll be two for two in the skunk domain, I'm afraid," Keith said.

"If you're trying to seduce me, Keith, you're failing miserably. I you want to have some fun, shut your mouth, unless it's between my legs. Goodnight, Keith, and thanks again for the comfort and shelter, and all the vodka gimlets you bought me earlier," I said, as I climbed into bed, giggling up a storm.

There was a vast gulf between Keith and me. Keith was a full-sized man, muscles in all the right places, maybe a small paunch, but he looked sexy enough to my eyes. He was probably a good ten years older than me. And he's married. He's married, Jess. Married! Get that through your head!

King-sized beds are huge. We could have slept four people without anyone having to touch another, and yet, somehow, Keith appeared right next to me. Just like that. I rolled over presenting my back to him, and I felt his hands go under my, I mean his, T shirt. His hands verified that my bottom was indeed naked.

Next, I felt the belt coming off. I was rolled onto my back and Keith was looming above me. Our eyes locked, and he looked at my eyes as if he was trying to see into my soul. I was sure he was deciding if he should do this, or not? I looked back up into his eyes.

This was my chance, it was my big chance! Nobody in my home town need ever know. If I didn't get the job I was interviewing for in Philadelphia I could return to my small town in Arkansas and become Miss Goody Two Shoes again. Nobody would know.

He kissed me. Idiot that I am, the kiss surprised me, and I must have come across as a cold fish. I could see the disappointment in Keith's eyes, and I pulled his head back down and mashed his lips into mine. I moaned softly and opened my lips, forcing his mouth open with my tongue. We French kissed for a long time. I for one would have been happy to have kept kissing Keith like that all the night long. Keith, though, wanted more.

"I have to see your sweet, luscious body, Jess," Keith said, and he pulled the covers off me. He sat me up and pulled on my/his T shirt. "Raise your cute little behind, please." I complied and his T shirt came up and off my body. He paused to drink in my nudity, my cute little breasts with their pink areolas and bright red, rigid, hard nipples. His eyes gradually scanned south to my tightly closed legs.

"You'll see my pussy, later, big boy, when you earn the right to see it," I said. "Now it's your turn; what are you hiding under your night shirt?" I playfully tried to lift it off him. He got out of bed and lifted it up over his head, revealing a fairly hard body with -- as I suspected -- a small paunch. "And your briefs, Keith. I'm already nude for you, and fair is fair." It was already apparent from the tent in his briefs that he was nice and hard. For me! He was hard for me, little Miss Goody Two Shoes, who was naked in a hotel bed with him. Wow.

Keith just stared at me for a long time. I began to think he might be scared to have his first extramarital affair. I had come to terms with it; I figured that was between him and his wife. If he wanted me, goddam it, he could have me, but I sure as hell was not going to force myself on him. I had to retain some kind of self-respect, some kind of dignity, right?

"We don't have to do anything, Keith. I know you're enjoying the view, and if that's enough, that's fine. There's no need to go any farther," I said, hoping to get some resolution as to what was happening. I got back under the covers, and closed my eyes.

Keith ripped the covers off of me once again. He had his cell phone out. "Don't take a picture, Keith. Your wife might find it. Just use your memory, okay?" Suddenly I had a brainstorm. "Hey, have you ever watched a girl masturbate?"

Finally, Keith recovered the gift of speech. "I'd love that," he said.

"How about we watch each other masturbate?" I said, and I began to fondle my own boobs. My hands circled my nipples, studiously avoiding them. I kept it up for a while and then I touched them, and I had an involuntary shiver, as I usually do when I get myself off, beginning with my boobs. I had thought Keith would stroke his cock or something, but he was too mesmerized watching me.

"I wish my tongue could touch my nipples. Some girls can, you know. My boobs are just too small," I said. "Say, you have a tongue..."

Keith was all over me. He pushed me backwards onto the bed and got between my legs, forcing them apart (I put up only token resistance, for the sake of propriety) and he licked, suckled, and played with my tits, even gently biting my nipples, the last touch eliciting a moan from my gleeful mouth.

His tongue then went south, slowly licking my body down to my belly button. I giggled as his tongue went into my belly button which had recently changed its nature from an outie to an inny, as my body had matured into the body of a full-blooded woman. I hoped it was going where I prayed that it was!

Oh my! I had watched women enjoying being eaten out on porn videos, but my only lover Mike had not been into that, so I had never experienced it myself. It was a revelation! I didn't even know if Keith was any good at it, at the time; all I knew was that I was in heaven. I was feeling arousal in ways I had never known before.

It felt strange, but in a good way, a very good way. As Keith ate me out and I moaned appropriately and sang his praises to the hotel room's walls, I became more and more turned on. As if that hadn't been enough, Keith added a finger, right inside my pussy! This caused a big groan. Mike had never fingered me. In fact, all we had ever done was fuck, fuck, and then we would fuck some more.

Keith added a second finger! OMG this was too good to be true. His mouth finally found my clit, and I almost screamed. Now he had three fingers in my tight little unexplored pussy as his mouth was busy on my clit. He was driving me out of my mind. My body had a mind of its own as my stomach rose from the bed, angling his mouth more perfectly onto my clit.

It was building, building, building and then WHAM! Yes, yes, YES! My entire body convulsed as I let out a little scream. I must have quivered and shook for at least a good ten seconds as the first orgasm a man had ever given me washed over me like

The Great Wave of Kanagawa,

by the Japanese master Hosukai.

My eyes were closed, but when I opened them I saw Keith's sloppy wet face covered in my pussy juice, with one of my pubic hairs dangling from his lower lip. I looked at him in awe, in admiration, and yes, with even love in my eyes.

"My goodness, Keith, I've never cum like that before. You're amazing," I said.

Keith just smiled at me, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You taste delicious," he said.

"Oh Keith! I'm sure you say that to all the stranded girls you find in airports to share the night with," and I giggled. "I'm yours, Keith. Whatever you want, I want to give you, if I can."

"Want to fuck?" Keith asked.

"Oh, baby, I thought you'd never ask. Do you have a condom?" I replied.

"No. I'll pull out and cum all over your tits, okay?" he said.

This made me nervous. It was the perfect time of the month for me to get pregnant. I silently made a prayer to the almighty. If I didn't get knocked up tonight, I'd go on birth control as soon as I got to Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love. Oooh, gay incest! Kinky, I thought, as I imagined two Philadelphia brothers going at it. Then I imagined the two brothers going at it with me! I giggled nervously.

"Sure, okay," I said. No man had ever cum on me before. Mike had always used a rubber. I had seen it enough on porn, however, so go for it, little Ms. Two Shoes, right?

Keith smiled from ear to ear. My legs were already spread, with his torso between them, so all he had to do was to position himself, something -- as it turned out -- he was quite expert at doing. Before I knew it, I was fucking the second man of my life!

Now if Keith was magnificent with his mouth, you should have seen him in action with his cock! Holy Kablowy could that man fuck a girl! And when said girl was the world's most responsive girl imaginable, ie, me, then let me tell you the whole fuck was like a religious experience. I think my moans were akin to speaking in tongues! Had Keith proposed marriage while he was fucking me so marvelously, I would have agreed in a minute to make him a bigamist.

I had had no idea sex could be this good. I had enjoyed fucking Mike, but mostly the enjoyment was psychological: sex was how a man and woman expressed love. Mike had used no foreplay, and when he would enter me, my vaginal canal was bone dry. It hurt, every single bleeping time. I would lubricate as he thrust in and out, and after a little bit it would become enjoyable, and almost seconds after I was finally getting into it, he would climax inside me, filling his rubber with his jism.