As I gather my things, and prepare to step off the plane, my hands are trembling. I silently ask myself, "Am I really doing this?" There is no turning back now. I'm in New York and there is a man waiting for me. "A man that I have never met, but feel like I know," I think. I can feel the moisture already forming between my legs.
Months ago, in the most random fashion possible, I met a man named John. Since then he'd been charming me with his wit, intelligence, and velvet tongue of spoken-word porn. That man could spin a tale of sex that the iciest bitch would be warmed by. The flight attendant had a knowing smile on her face as I walked past. My face had twisted into something viscerally sexual as I thought about the fate that awaited me.
After gathering my nerves with a shot of bourbon, I knew I could delay the inevitable no longer. "His first taste of Kentucky," I mused with myself, "on both sets of lips." The realization that he'd enjoy that irony was all I needed to head for the exit.
I stepped into the sunlight and immediately shaded my eyes. Before I could orient myself a pair of hands gently grabbed my waist. Momentary panic evaporated as I was slowly backed against a car. A gentle nudge with his pelvis was a silent indicator of what was to come. I regained my bearings, and there he was, with a big, coy grin. The seconds that passed felt like an eternity. He slowly moved in as if he was about to kiss me, and at the last minute turned his head ever so slightly and kissed that place between my mouth and cheek, and said, "Mmm, Kentucky." Confusion, nerves, adrenaline, and bourbon collided with the absence of oxygen I'd been unconsciously withholding from my lungs, and a smile took over my face. We both started laughing as I collapsed into a hug in his arms. I knew instantly that I had made the right decision.
Our conversation and chemistry resumed its normal flow, having been interrupted only by the nervous moments that occurred in the seconds before the meeting. Our conversation immediately took on the oddly matched pairing of normal conversation and sexual charge. I knew what was coming, but I didn't know how it was going to play out. I could see it in the way his eyes twinkled when he looked at me. My unfulfilled fantasy would not go unfulfilled past this day, that was for sure. The thought created a whole new rush of juices. I shifted in my seat to try to abate it, all the while noticing the obvious bulge in his jeans.
Every mile made me wetter and more nervous. Instinctively, I knew when we were close. I started fidgeting restlessly and disconnecting from the conversation. Understanding my anxiety, he reached over and firmly grabbed my hand and said, "We're comfortable, Beautiful." As I acknowledged that I was comfortable and sank back into the seat he said, "And oh yeah, your ass is mine."