CHAPTER 2: FUCKING IN THE FALL IN NEW ENGLAND
John decides on Concord as a good place to harmonize. Melissa, having the advantage of the time difference, beats him to it and gets her first taste of pussy for months.
One final kiss and a squeeze from Canada and John was through the boarding gate for his flight to Concord, New Hampshire. After all, it was fall (as they call it there) and where better to fuck and be fucked but in New England? Where the fall colours can match the lingerie.
Not entirely exhausted by his last night's endeavours in Newfoundland, he had time to plan ahead. His mind and his heart had to be part of this adventure, as well as his penis, which was cosily nestling in his briefs, recovering strength. If it has to be a different position every night, he thought, he should give the woman the choice. Assuming an initial menu of eighteen (nineteen, if you included the missionary position with Melissa the night before he left), the lady of the final night would have no choice. It would be a bit like opening the windows on an Advent calendar. Well, she would just have to be his Christmas Eve. Maybe they could rehearse all eighteen positions on that night, somewhere in Europe with just a thousand miles or so back to London.
He would have his work cut out for him.
As the plane took its descent into Concord, he watched those magnificent colours and felt a stirring as he imagined red and gold picked out in lace. Would he be able to tell, when he made his choice, what she was wearing underneath? Was that a gentlemanly thing to do, anyway? And it was not the kind of question you could ask ahead of time. Briefly he wondered if he might have to go shopping, but he would have to have such a range of sizes and styles that, lightweight as they were, it would be awkward finding space in his hand luggage. He would have to take his chances. And in any case, if his bride for the night was taking him home, she would have a selection, surely? It could add to the fun.
These thoughts were giving an edge to his appetite. Lost in his fantasy, he hardly noticed the flight attendant leaning towards him to remind him to fasten his seat belt. The moment her voice woke him from his reverie and he opened his eyes, his mind was made up. Look no further. That smart uniform with its hint of sexy chic never fails, and it is not meant to. The airlines know all about the allure of the desirable woman who is just beyond your reach. But how would he step over that invisible line that keeps men in check and keeps the woman safe?
"Thank you," he said. "I must have dozed off."
She was the one to step over the line. "I hope it was a good dream. Don't let anything get in the way of that buckle, now."
She said it quietly, so that only he could hear. Was she teasing him, or coming on to him? Once they had landed, and he was standing in the aisle waiting to disembark, she was right next to him. Her shoulder touched his. "So what's your business in Concord, Mr Englishman?"
"Just looking around," he answered.
"Would you like some -- company?" The hesitation was stage-managed.
"Are you offering?"
"Meet me at the RT station as soon as you're through."
"Luckily I only have hand luggage."
"You're a lucky man, then." She gave his arm a squeeze and took her position at the plane's entrance. Her slim hips were neatly encased in her uniform's blue linen skirt. Melissa would like this.
Newfoundland Anna had obligingly shed her clothes for her photo, adopting the tried and tested leaning pose, with the arms retracted to do full justice to her bust-line. On the flight John had written up -- good God, was this a thesis? -- the details of their coupling, and now, before he made his way across the concourse to meet his new acquaintance, he pressed "send" and the email and its attachment was on its way.
When Melissa's phone pinged to register the arrival of John's mail, she was lying naked in bed with Antonia, the girl she had seen the night before. She had come looking for her in the same bar late that afternoon. They had had a first round of tumultuous sex -- Antonia was a demon of energy -- and Melissa was enjoying her lover's desultory loving afterglow touch on her pussy. When she showed Antonia the photo, the touch became more urgent.
