Maing the Connection

This is the first erotic story I've written—I hope you enjoy it! I wanted to write something quick but it ended up actually being pretty long. It was all done pretty fast so if something isn't perfect let me know and I won't make the same mistake twice.

=)

-- forever_free

*

At the airport, you pass countless strangers, each alone with their own problems, thoughts, and dreams. If you take one second to think about all you have lived, it takes only a second longer to realize that each person you pass along the way has lived a life equally as rich. A hundred thousand lives, converging at one point in time and space, only to scatter back to the far reaches of the Earth.

I wish I could say that this was the mindset I found myself in on that summer day, walking through the terminal to make my connection at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. I was sick, or at least my throat was hoarse and my nose stuffed up, and I had been up since 4 AM to catch my first flight, so I was tired as well. As is often the case when I feel lousy, I found it difficult to focus on anything else.

Finally reaching my gate, I looked for a seat as far away from other human beings as possible. Unfortunately, it seemed to be impossible to find a spot that wasn't next to a family with noisy kids or someone obnoxiously yelling into their cell phone. I walked to the adjacent gate, where I found a row of several seats to myself. I said a silent prayer to the airport gods.

After putting down my luggage, I looked up at a young woman sitting across from me. I'm not sure what struck me so much about her, but I immediately found her attractive: she had shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair, green eyes, and was wearing purple lipstick. Her outfit consisted of a gray "Stanford" zip-up sweatshirt, a very short black skirt, grey leggings with black boots, and a pair of headphones around her shoulder which I guess qualifies as a fashion accessory. But it was her lipstick that I kept coming back to as I traced the striking curves of her slightly-freckled face in my mind.

Her eyes glanced up from her phone and caught my gaze.

I was too tired to feign ignorance some other way, so I just closed my eyes and pretended like I was dozing off. I didn't have to try very hard, because it wasn't really acting at that point. I was exhausted and still had a long day ahead of me.

I counted to sixty and opened my eyes again. I felt like a creep, but I rationalized that everybody 'checks people out.' I guess I was really a prude.

She looked back at me. This time I don't think she saw me looking at her as I pretended to check my phone—at least that's what I thought until she stood up and walked over to me. Busted.

But I pretended not to notice.

"Sir?"

Shit. A voice like that could end all the wars in the world, I thought.

"Sir? I'm not that old," I replied almost robotically as I looked up at her. She stood in front of me staring down, a quizzical look on her face. Apparently my sharp wit was lost on her.

Her lips puckered up a bit before she asked, "could you watch my luggage?" as she pointed at a black suitcase and leather handbag.

"Sure." I managed a smile to mask embarrassment.

"Sure? I'm not that old!" she replied playfully as she walked off. This attempt at humor didn't immediately register to my hazy mind, but I enjoyed catching a glimpse of her from behind. Underneath her strange outfit was a skinny and undoubtedly fit body. I caught myself before my mind wandered further.

When I saw her coming back, I looked away, and I listened for the rhythmic sound of her footsteps coming closer. When I'm tired, all of my senses seem to come together in a strange way, making me aware of whatever my mind is focused on and oblivious to everything else—which is why I immediately noticed when she sat down next to me, trying as I was to appear normal.

"Where are you headed?" she asked.

Again I pretended not to have noticed her when I became acutely aware that I was trying too hard. She wore a look that was halfway between smiling and embarrassment.

"Tampa," I replied, "visiting my folks for the 4th of July. Fucking long layover. How about you?"

She seemed disinterested, staring off at the ceiling and seemingly contemplating other things.

Finally, she spoke. "I saw you looking at me a lot."

My stomach felt like a rock just dropped in it. She didn't make eye contact.

Instead of stuttering, as I might have done had I been more awake and anxious, I didn't say anything at first, but bit my lip. "My bad." I managed, trying to play cool. I looked at her again.

Her head shot around and she looked me straight in the eye, beaming. "Oh, don't worry about it!" The butterflies in my stomach vanished. That smile could cure cancer.

Even sitting right there, in one of the strangest situations of my life, I could not have anticipated what happened next. Sitting there, face to face, in the middle of the airport, she reached out her hands, put them through my hair, closed her eyes, leaned forward, and kissed me.

And I don't mean a little peck-on-the-cheek kiss. Her tongue wrestled its way inside my mouth and I found myself putting two arms around her skinny waist, pulling her closer to me as I enjoyed the sweet taste of her mouth against mine. She moaned a little as I lowered one of my hands and squeezed her ass through her skirt. She broke up the kiss and whispered into my ear, "we can't do this in the middle of the airport."

Airport bathrooms are disgusting and the women's restroom is no different, I learned, but luckily this airport had a "disabled" stall that was at least large enough for two people and their luggage. I felt a little bad, but sick, tired, and increasingly horny, I reasoned that I was basically disabled. The woman, whose name I still did not know, had grabbed my hand and led me to a restroom in a relatively deserted corner of the airport. As soon as I closed the door, she grabbed onto me again and I pulled her toward me, one hand around her shoulders, the other squeezing ass-through-leggings, this time with a better grip.

This time, our kisses were frantic and short. I bit her neck and she held her hands around my shoulders. I looked at her face again—her eyes were full of fire and her hair unkempt, like a wild animal. As we kissed again, I reached up and slowly unzipped her sweatshirt, revealing a black tank top and purple bra peeking out from underneath. She backed away for a moment, then shrugged off her sweatshirt and removed her tank top. Her skin was smooth, her stomach exquisitely flat, and her skin pale, like a porcelain doll that I might have been afraid to touch had I known better.

As she walked back toward me, I reached around and found her bra clasp, which I undid as she kissed my neck. Her tits were small, and round, and perfect. I leaned down and took one of her pink nipples into my mouth, which I bit as she moaned and held my head to her chest. I felt my face squish her breast toward her body as I played with the other in my fingers.

She reached down and felt my aching erection through my pants, and cooed softly as she undid my belt and unzipped my jeans. I stood up to give her more room, reluctant to let go of those two perfect tits. Her thin fingers reached into my boxers and pulled out my fully-hard dick. "Ooh," she sighed as she pumped it a few times. Her voice made everything else in the world seem to melt away.

I watched as she knelt down on the bathroom floor—yuck!—and looked at my erection before licking my pre-cum off the tip. "Mmm," she moaned, knowing just how to make me even hornier.

Her little tongue continued to lick at my shaft for what seemed like an eternity, at once too short and too long, before she began sucking at the sensitive head. This sent tingles of pleasure up my spine, and I moaned as she pumped and sucked and licked all at the same time, staring up into my eyes as she gave me the best blowjob of my life.

She stopped for a moment to lean up toward my ear and whispered seductively, "would you like to play a game?"

"Okay," I managed.

I could feel her breath against my face. "How many times do you want me to deepthroat your cock?" She nibbled my earlobe.

I didn't know how to respond. "Uh, once?"

She kneeled back down, held me firmly, and in one swift motion jammed my cock into the back of her throat, a feat that didn't seem physically possible. But just as fast as it had started, she moved her head back and let my lubed-up dick fall out of her mouth.

"How many times do you want me to deepthroat your huge cock?"

This time, I got the idea.

"Twenty."

She again rammed my rock-hard erection into the back of her throat, then out and back in again, and again. She started going faster as I counted under my breath. "9...10...11...12...13...14...15...16...17...18...19"

As I got to 19, I grabbed her hair and held her head all the way towards my dick. She stayed there, flicking her tongue while trying even harder to fit every last millimeter into her throat. I felt her gag a few times as I watched her purple lips clasped around the base of my hard shaft. After almost a minute, I let go, and after a short gasp, she jammed her head toward me one last time. "Twenty!" she whispered as my swollen cock slid out of her throat.

I put my hands on her shoulders, feeling her defined collarbones as she rested a moment.

"I need you inside me," she finally stated matter-of-factly. She turned around and knelt on all fours, her head down. I felt through her clothing one more time, reaching through her legs and massaging her mound. Even though the barrier, she felt wet and hot. I pulled down her skirt and leggings to her knees, revealing her gorgeous, shapely ass. Instinctively I grabbed her left cheek and couldn't help but spank her. My hand made a sharp, satisfying noise as I felt it graze her.

"Harder," she gasped. I spanked her again, this time not holding back. "Again!" A third time. She squealed and breathed heavily.

I moved my fingers down to her pussy, at first trying to massage her clit from the angle I was at and finally slipped two fingers into her wet folds, pushing downwards toward the g-spot.

She moaned. "I want you in me

now

."

I obliged, guiding my cock to her entrance and moving it around in tiny circles. She pushed her ass further toward me, and it slid into her a little more. I grabbed her hips and pushed in further, feeling her depths press around my hard dick. Finally, I slammed in as hard as I could. She let out a stifled scream, then a moan of pleasure as I went out and back in, then again and again, feeling my body against her ass as I repeatedly penetrated her.

We both looked up as the bathroom door opened, and I stopped moving. It was just someone using the restroom, but I didn't want to make noise. Obviously I was alone in this concern, as my lover began rolling her ass towards and away from me, sliding my dick along the wet walls of her pussy. I gasped, and she continued to moan with each sharp roll. The visitor stopped moving for a moment, then continued their business in the adjacent stall.

Finally, I couldn't resist any more, and I grabbed at the body in front of me, jamming my cock forward as hard as I could again and again. She screamed, and the interloper left without washing their hands. Gross.

I could feel the pleasure building in my chest with each thrust, hanging on every of my partner's rhythmic pants. I looked at the beautiful figure prostrate in front of me—her full hips, perfect ass, and thin torso. Even her shoulders looked fucking perfect. It was like fucking a goddess.

Her breathing grew faster. She screamed. "Grab my hair and fuck me, I'm about to cum!"

This was too much for me. As soon as I gripped her blonde locks and pulled her head back, I knew I was going to burst. Sometimes, the anticipation is the best part.

I felt my warm cum squirt deep inside her, and she let out a final moan as her body started convulsing around mine. I leaned forward, one hand grabbing her hair into a ponytail, the other cupping her right breast, and humped harder and harder, our two bodies moving together in a frenetic dance as I felt wave after wave of pleasure course through me.

We collapsed onto the floor, holding each other at arm's length and staring. Her hair was messy and her face was gorgeous. Freckles, expressive eyes, purple lipstick—it was all a scene from my wildest dreams.

Finally, I spoke. "Thanks for the good time."

She bit her lip and smiled. "You too. It sure beats waiting in..."

The intercom blared.

...final boarding call for flight 838 to Atlanta. Please proceed to gate C-17 for boarding.

"Shit!" She stood up and pulled up her leggings. "Sorry, I have to go!" Too dazed to respond, I sat there as she pulled my phone out of my pocket, turned it towards herself, and took a picture of her face and tits, her mouth open with her tongue out suggestively. She threw it back to me. "Something to remember me by."

What a fucking amazing wallpaper.

She stuffed her shirt and bra into her bag, threw on her sweatshirt, and gave me a final, wanting kiss. "I'll think about your cum dripping out of me during the flight."

She looked at me, turned around, and ran with her luggage out the door.

I sat there for a moment, just smiling dumbly to myself. I finally stood up and tried to wash up a bit, taking my time. I passed a confused-looking middle-aged woman on my way out the door.

That night, when I arrived in Tampa, I met my parents at the baggage claim. I hugged my dad, them my mom, for a long time.

"How was the trip?"

"It was good." I wasn't lying.

Author's Endnote:

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed the story, give me a positive vote.

This my first attempt at this sort of writing, and I want to get better, so constructive feedback, as well as encouragement, is greatly appreciated. I hope you liked it, but if not, that's okay. Different strokes for different folks, right?

=)

Copyright © 2013 forever_free. All rights reserved.