Slutty At Quilt Con

It had all started on Aviation Blvd. Amy's husband Sam had driven her to the airport. They had both been extremely horny over preceding days, but had only managed to find time for a single quick fuck, and now she was headed out of town. They had some time to kill, and it was dark early this time of year and they were parked and one thing led to another and Sam's cock was in her mouth and then she was swallowing his cum and then suddenly she was late for her flight and he was dropping her off at Terminal 4, bag in hand, pussy wet.

She sighed in frustration and made her way inside. As she progressed through security she amused herself by eyeing her fellow passengers, wondering if they were on her flight. She accidentally caught the eye of a tall, well built man four security lines over. His smile made her flush. She'd definitely fuck him, but it seemed hard to believe that he was also going to her destination or the weekend: QuiltCon. Amy had gotten into sewing over the last few years, mending, making her own clothes, bags, anything with fabric. From there quilting was a logical next step, and now she was on her way to the Quilting Convention to meet two friends and attend workshops on quilting. Interesting, and fun, and almost definitely not sexy.

The TSA agent was yelling at her. She pushed her bags onto the belt, got in line for the scanner. The person in front of Amy had a fantastic ass. The person attached to it was slight, willowy. Short, platinum dyed hair, Korean, freckles, large eyes. Both masculine and feminine. A full jean outfit: tight black jeans, dark denim shirt, black denim jacket. Now they definitely could be going to QuiltCon. Amy was straight, mostly, but had always been attracted to people somewhere in between on the gender spectrum and this person was really hitting all the marks.

When she sat down in her seat on the plane realized that all she had to read at the moment was the romance/fantasy book she had been working her way through. The writing was surprisingly good, and the smut portions had kept her attention so far but at the moment she would have preferred John McPhee writing about rocks. While the rest of the plane boarded she texted Sam.

AMY:

I wish you were coming this weekend, you wouldn't have to come to QuiltCon, you could just stay in the hotel room and be my sex boy for between sessions

SAM:

Amy, you're sharing a hotel room with Kate and Ana, aren't you?

AMY:

Okay, well then I'd get you a secret hotel room and you could be my secret sex boy who I sneak off to

She was jostled by someone getting into the seat next to her. She looked up and was surprised to see the platinum blond from security. She texted Sam again.

AMY:

You left me so horny and the person sitting next to me is unfairly hot and all I have to read is erotica, and I don't know how I'm going to get through this flight!

SAM:

Jerk off in the bathroom?

AMY:

Plane bathrooms aren't sexy, who would do that

SAM:

You clearly were not a teenage boy

AMY:

Wait have you done that?

SAM:

...no...of course, not...I would...never

AMY:

I don't know how to feel about this but actually I'm not surprised

And then, hearing the announcement from the flight attendant.

AMY:

Oop, door closing, gotta go, I love you, I'll just be here, horny as fuck on a stupid plane flying away from you

SAM:

I love you too

As the plane leveled out to cruising altitude Amy tried to focus on her book. The smoldering romance between the two English sorcerers was reaching its narrative and literal climax. She squirmed in her seat, sighed, put her phone away, tapped the unfairly hot seat mate, and went to go pee.

When she got back she saw that her seat mate was knitting. Maybe they were going to QuiltCon? As they both settled back in their seats, Amy asked, 'What are you working on?'

Her seatmate smiled at her and said, 'It's supposed to be a sweater, but I'm so terrible at knitting. I've frogged the entire thing three times already.'

Amy laughed and said, 'Oh, don't worry, that's been the story with every single thing I've knit so far.' She gestured down at her sweater. 'This sweater took me six months and I started over at least four times.'

Her seatmate looked impressed. 'You made that? I love it.'

'Thank you! Yeah, like I said, it took a long time. Is knitting your main thing?' asked Amy.

'God no, I'm a quilter,' they replied.

'Oh! So...you're on your way to QuiltCon?'

'I am yeah, what about you?'

'Yeah! I'm Amy, by the way.'

'PJ.'

They held their hand out. Amy took it, their skin was soft. Amy looked into their smiling face. They had hazel eyes which held hers for just a moment too long. Amy remembered something a friend once told her 'All flirting is just eye contact.' Her heart beat a little faster. The English sorcerers would have to wait to consummate their complicated love.

They talked all through the flight. PJ was actually a cinematographer, and had gotten into quilting when their friends picked it up. They showed Amy pictures of some of their quilts, which were more like art pieces than bedspreads. Each quilt told a story in its own unique way. Amy was extremely impressed, and found herself even more attracted to PJ. Hot and talented was an irresistible combination.

As the plane was taxiing Amy turned off airplane mode to let Sam know she had landed safely and was greeted by a barrage of texts. 'Oh fuck.'

'What's wrong?' asked PJ.

'My friends were supposed to meet me at the airport, but it sounds like they got delayed in New York, there's a winter storm. Their flight isn't until tomorrow now. They were supposed to drive me to the hotel. Fuck,' said Amy.

'Where are you staying?'

Amy named the hotel next to the convention center. PJ smiled and said, 'I'm staying there, too! Don't worry, I can bring you.'

'You sure?'

'It's been so nice chatting, I'm happy to help you out,' said PJ.

There was that slightly too long eye contact again. Amy briefly felt the plane fall away and then she mentally shook herself and responded, 'That would be so nice! Thank you!'

She went back to her phone and texted Sam

AMY:

Landed. Unfairly hot seat mate is v cool and going to Quilt Con. Also still very hot

Sam responded with a heart and a smirking emoji, then:

SAM: Sounds like maybe you found your sex boy (?) for the weekend.

AMY: :blushing emoji: I honestly can't tell. I think they're non-binary? You would like them. And I'm sure they're just being nice.

SAM: Well, you know I love hearing your dirty stories, so if you make a new one this weekend that's alright with me. You just have to tell me all about it

She sent back a grimacing emoji, and sat waiting for the plane door to open, conscious of the heat of PJs arm close to hers, their slight scent through the fug of the plane. She was suddenly very aware that she was someplace else. It had been a long time since she had taken a trip without Sam, and she was in a new state, late at night, with an attractive stranger next to her. She felt free, and a little unhinged.

The car rental company was a twilight zone of fluorescent lights, a lone employee staffing the single open desk in a long empty row. PJ quickly got their keys, and Amy followed them out to the lot. After the strange fishbowl brightness of the terminal the lot was blessedly dark. The air smelled like desert and jet fumes and asphalt. Getting into the car Amy almost pulled up short. Who was this person? She didn't even know them, what was she doing? But then PJ flashed them a smile, their hazel eyes, that shock of platinum hair, blinding white teeth and Amy felt the recklessness return. PJ was a knitter for god sake, serial killers didn't knit.

PJ didn't murder her on the car ride to the hotel. They kept talking. Amy found herself making PJ laugh a lot. Stopped at a red light she said something funny, and PJ laid her hand on Amy's shoulder and laughed until the light turned green. At the hotel they checked in, and Amy heard herself say, 'Hey...would you like to get a drink? I think...I think their bar is still open?'

PJ readily agreed, and they found a spot at the surprisingly full hotel bar. Amy sat down at the banquet and was surprised that PJ didn't sit across from her, but sat down right beside her. Amy was intensely aware of their thighs pressed together. As they talked PJ would lay her hand on Amy's thigh for emphasis. They analyzed the hotel bar, spotting the regulars, the quilters in town for the con, the potential hook ups, the definitely cheating spouses. PJs hand was now trailing behind the banquet, and their body was close, warm, hot against Amy. PJs fingers brushed her neck and Amy didn't want them to go. She wanted that hand to grab her, hold her, push her down, dominate her, hold her still while PJ desperately fucked her.

They stayed until the bar closed. PJ got up and Amy immediately missed their body against hers. She wanted to press herself full length on top of them, maximizing the amount of skin touching. They parted at the elevators, but Amy got their number, and a promise that they would see each other tomorrow.

Amy went up to her room, showered, thinking about PJs hands on her. Desperate, she flung herself on her bed and grabbed her phone. It would be weird to text. Would it be weird to text?

She wished she could call Sam but he had already gone to bed. She thought about PJs hands again. Amy loved Sam's hands. He had big, strong hands. PJs were smaller, but powerful, competent, slight but strong. And her eyes. Amy imagined them watching her. Amy's fingers trailed down her body, describing paths that converged between her legs. She imagined PJ in the hotel chair, their eyes riveted to Amy. Light stroking became frantic rubbing, as she felt their eyes on her, imagined them encouraging her, guiding her, hungrily drinking it all in.

Amy opened her legs and raised her butt, showing herself to the imaginary PJ. She slid a finger inside herself, and then two. She fucked herself desperately, stretching wide her cunt, imagining it was PJs hand, PJs powerful small fingers, fucking her, adding fingers, more and more until her entire fist was in Amy's cunt, that petite little fist stretching her, PJs other hand gripping around her neck, possessing her, controlling her every move. Amy's fucked herself frantically, until an orgasm ripped through her, imagining gasping into PJs mouth on hers as she came, exposed, a slut desperate for pleasure.

Her phone dinged. It was PJ.

So nice meeting you today! Can't wait to see you tomorrow :).

Amy sent a heart, a red one, and replied

I can't wait either

and then got in bed and went to sleep.

8am the next morning and Amy was in a paper piecing workshop and regretting it immensely. Amy didn't have a lot of experience with piecing, and with the late night she was struggling with the instructions. The older man to her left provided an increasingly critical stream of advice, while the nice older woman to her right provided reassurances that made it clear that she, too, thought Amy was a moron.

Dejected, she watched the steady stream of con attendees that flowed past outside. The attendees were almost all older women, and Amy began to play an idle game guessing where the groups came from. They looked to be primarily from the Midwest and the South. She could pick out specific groups, one group of tall thin blonde women walked by in matching quilted outfits, doubtless made especially for the convention. A rare man walked hand in hand with his wife, wearing a shirt that managed to connect quilting and Star Wars. Then a familiar form cut through the crowd.

Amy bolted upright, banging her knee on the table and nearly knocking over her Yeti full of tea. She made a quick grab for it, saving everything downstream as faces turned towards her. Playing it cool she coughed, mumbled something about needing to excuse herself, and casually rushed to the door. Tracking down PJ in the crowd wasn't hard, their apparently standard black outfit stood out in contrast to the brighter colors of the other attendees. Amy fell in behind them, and found herself briefly mesmerized by PJ's ass in those black jeans, before steeling herself and saying hello.

PJ's smile was wide and blinding, and Amy felt a rush as it washed over her. PJ gave her a hug, brief but pressing their full body against Amy, and Amy wanted to carry them off to a bed somewhere, strip off the jean outfit and writhe against them. Looking into PJs hazel eyes she could swear that they knew what Amy was thinking. Instead PJ said, 'Getting an early start this morning! What are you up to today?'

Amy laughed, 'Well at the moment I'm doing an absolutely terrible job in a piecing workshop. Then I need to pick my friends up and then we're going to a lecture and then do a spin through the hall to look at quilts and then another workshop and then dinner and then we talked about going out somewhere but we'll probably all collapse. What about you?'

'I also have a workshop later!' said PJ, 'Which one are you doing?'

'The Bojagi one,' replied Amy.

'Oh! Me too!' said PJ, 'I'll see you there? I've got to run right now and meet a friend'.

Another quick full body press and then they were gone, their small form striding purposefully down the hall.

Amy watched them go and then her phone vibrated.

SAM:

How was the rest of last night?

AMY:

Fun! We stayed out at the hotel bar and went to bed too late.

SAM:

You went to bed too late...together?

AMY:

NO! I mean, I wish. God I wish you were here I was so horny when I went to bed, I wish I had my secret sex boy

SAM:

It sounds like you might be able to fill that position for this weekend?

AMY:

:blushing emoji: They're just being nice, but they're so fucking hot. I wish you could meet them.

SAM:

Well let's hang out with them in LA!

The day flowed by. Her friends Kate and Ana arrived, the lecture was interesting, and the hundreds and hundreds of quilts in the exhibition hall left Amy inspired and excited. These weren't your antique dusty bedspreads. They were modern pieces of art, in many different categories: minimalist, improv, modern traditional. Amy took hundreds of photos to show Sam and her family. Ideas for her own work revolved in the back of her mind.

Soon she found herself at the Bojagi workshop. Bojagi is a Korean textile made for wrapping items, sometimes pieced together from different pieces of textiles. She had arrived a little late, and was relieved and excited when she saw PJ wave her over to a seat that they had saved at the overcrowded table. Now she sat next to PJ, extremely aware of their body against hers.

As the workshop went on PJ seemed to take every opportunity to brush against Amy. At one point Amy was trying to explain something the teacher had just said. PJ leaned over, her arm draping over the back of Amy's chair. Amy began to lose her train of thought as she felt PJs hand trail up her back. She squirmed in her chair as PJs fingers lightly brushed the back of her neck, and then shuddered involuntarily as they brushed down the sensitive side of her neck and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

Amy turned to find PJs face close to hers, a flash of that blinding smile and then a quiet, throaty, 'Sorry, you had a hair.' They both paused, eyes locked. Amy drank in their wide round eyes, the delicate curve of their throat, the play of surprisingly well defined shoulders under their t-shirt.

The teacher said, 'Now, roll the fabric under your fingers.'

Time moved on, PJ smiled, looked back at their fabric pieces but Amy was left with a frisson, a little electric charge, her heart pounding, excitement in her stomach.

For the rest of the workshop she could swear that PJ was teasing her. Their hand would brush against hers, they took any opportunity to press their body into Amy's, which wasn't difficult in the close confines of the crowded workshop.

Afterwards they stood and chatted outside the workshop until Amy's friends Kate and Ana arrived from their activities. Amy introduced PJ, who asked what they all planned to get up to later.

'I don't know but this is my first night without my kids in months so I'm ready for anything,' replied Ana.

'Well I was going to go to Boycott bar with some people later if you all want to go,' said PJ.

'Oh! Yeah! I have been meaning to go there. It's one of the last lesbian bars in the country, right?' asked Kate.

'Yeah! It's great, there's dancing and it's super welcoming, you all should come, I'd love to see you there,' PJ finished her sentence looking squarely at Amy. Flushing pink Amy said, 'Sure! We'd love to'.

'Great! See you then!' PJ gave Amy another tight full body press hug, and waved goodbye to Kate and Ana.

They all watched them walk away in silence until Kate said, 'Amy, who was THAT?!'

Amy blushed again and said, 'OH, um, just a friend, someone I met on the airplane actually.'

Ana said, 'But Amy, you're married.'

'You think I haven't been texting Sam about this constantly?!' replied Amy.

'And he's okay with it?' said Ana.

'He's excited for me to bring home a new story to tell him.'

'Ew,' said Ana. At the same time Kate said, 'Makes sense to me, that person is HOT.'

Chapter 3.

The bar was exactly what Amy needed after the long day at the convention, and also nothing like she had pictured Phoenix. There were people of all types, dancing, hanging out, drinking, having fun. Amy, Kate and Ana were lucky to nab a table, and sat discussing their day at the convention. Soon the bar began to fill up, the dance floor crowded with people line dancing.

PJ arrived in a whirl, leading a surprising entourage of QuiltCon friends. The group at the table grew, talking, laughing. PJ was again next to Amy, their hand on the small of Amy's back, or on their thigh, their legs touching, feet playing footsie. Everyone got up to dance, Amy and PJ stayed behind, Kate and Ana exchanging knowing glances as they got up. Amy was conscious of them being alone, of them being on a precipice. Her heart was pounding, and she stammered 'I'm going to go to the bathroom.'

PJ gave them a searching look, and then said, 'I'll join you?'

Amy grabbed their hand and dragged them to the back of the bar. A door opened, they paused with mutual understanding of the world opening up in front of them, and then Amy dragged PJ inside and shut the door.

PJ pushed her up against the wall of the bathroom. Their mouths met hungrily, messily, their bodies pressing against one another. It had only been a day but the feeling of long last inevitability, the rightness, the unison of their kiss. Amy wanted all of PJ, wanted to touch them, wanted their hands all over her body. PJ pushed into her, grinding their bodies together. Amy ran her hands along PJs body, attempting to gain entrance into her tight jean outfit and failing. She whimpered in frustration and stopped, cupping PJs face, looking into her eyes and said, 'PJ I want you to fuck me.'

PJ grinned, a high wattage combination of excitement, lust and joy and said, 'Come with me then.'

They ran out of the bar, Amy making descriptive gestures to Ana and Kate, and then texting the group chat:

AMY:

I'm going back to the hotel with PJ

KATE:

Damn girl.

ANA:

GODDAMN girl.

---

Amy paused to take it all in. PJ reclined on the chair in their hotel room, the lights low, Phoenix at night spread behind them. That shock of platinum hair, the hazel eyes locked on to Amy's naked body. The delicate curve of their neck, those strong shoulders, defined collarbone, their small breasts, brown nipples erect with desire. The defined musculature of their stomach and abs lead her eyes down to the v of dark pubic hair, legs slightly parted, the slim but powerful runners legs, the dainty curve of their foot, arched.