Note: This is the third story in the Lockwinnock trilogy. It is suggested that the reader read the other two stories in order to fully understand the story context. The author hopes that these fictional stories have provided entertainment and comments are invited.
A sweet smile had convinced the bus driver to let her off at the round about. The ride down from Paisley to Glasgow had taken longer than she had expected. The bus had stopped at every nook and cranny. With only two short blocks to go, Beth extended the handle on her wheeled overnight bag and started to walk.
The dampness of the sidewalks glistened in the light from the streetlights. The raw wind that blew in from the Clyde brought a hint of weather to come. Arriving at the front door of the apartment building, she was chilled. Beth pushed the buzzer to his apartment and waited. The wind tugged at her overcoat, her nose began to run, and she desperately needed to pee. She forcefully pushed the buzzer again and waited. She stamped her feet and rubbed her nose with the back of her kid glove then assaulted the buzzer with a staccato of pushes. "Aaron. Aaron McGregor, where the fuck are you?" She angrily muttered to herself as she began to rummage through her purse. "Where are those fucking keys?" Her impatience grew. The keys were finally found. She entered, wearily climbed the three flights of richly carpeted stairs dragging her luggage, trudged to the end of the hall, and opened the apartment door, only to be greeted by the flashing light of the phone pulsing through the darkness.
Beth turned on the hall lights, discarded her coat and gloves over her suitcase, and hurried down the hall to the bathroom. She grabbed a handful of Kleenex and plunked herself down on the toilet. She blew her nose, sighed, felt relief and flushed. Beth washed and dried her hands and then looked in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed and puffy and her eyes teary. Her hair was wind blown. Beth tried to straighten her hair with her fingers and patted her face with her fingertips. She realized that she was agitated and most of all hungry. She left the bathroom and headed to the kitchen.
Her hand found the switch and as the light flooded the kitchen, Beth's eyes went immediately to the counter wine rack. Minutes later a half glass of Merlot sat on the counter while Beth searched the cupboards and fridge looking for something to eat. Twenty minutes and two glasses of Merlot later, Beth departed the kitchen for the living room with her gourmet meal. The kitchen was left disarray. The microwave door was ajar, the cutting board was covered with crumbs and morsels, and a dirty corning ware dish was on the counter by the cork and corkscrew. She turned on the television and sat back in the sofa to enjoy her meal of tomatoe soup, rye crisp crackers and cheese, Peak Fream shortbreads, and wine.
The television had been watching Beth for a couple of hours when she awoke to the sound of the 11 o'clock news. She was disappointed to find herself still alone in the apartment. She rose from the sofa and carried the dishes to the kitchen and placed them by the sink. Leaning back against the counter, she finished the remaining wine in a series of large gulps. Beth dejectedly placed the glass on the counter, wiped the dribble of wine from the edge of her mouth and walked into the hall. There the impatiently flashing phone once again caught her eye. She had forgotten about the message. Now she picked up the receiver and pushed the message button.
"Beth, its Aaron. How dumb of me, of course you know who it is. Look, luv, there's been a problem with the plane. They say it's a warning light or something. Anyways we have been diverted to Gander, Newfoundland. BA is putting us up for the night. They hope to have the plane fixed soon and I should be home sometime on Friday. I'll phone you as soon as I know the time of arrival. Miss you lots."
"Shit," was all Beth could say as she put down the phone and turned to walk towards the master bedroom. She had arranged a four-day weekend with Friday and Monday off from work. Now everything that was so carefully planned was about to collapse into shambles. Beth brushed against her coat. She realized that she had not hung it up. Quickly stuffing the gloves into the pockets, she grabbed a hanger, and deposited the coat in the closet. The travel bag followed her down the hallway, tugging in protest as its small wheels dug into the deep pile carpet. She entered Aaron's bedroom, turned on the lights, and began to cry.
Tears trickled down her cheeks as she pulled the travel bag into the large closet dressing room area. Beth unzipped her suitcase and pulled out her make up bag. As she was about to enter the adjacent ensuite, she noticed that Aaron had left open the bifold doors, which normally hid the washer and dryer. Hung over the edge of the washing machine was one of Aaron's heavy plaid shirts. She instinctively reached for the shirt to dry her tears. The faint smell of Aaron filled her head.
She left the bathroom clad only in Aaron's open shirt. Turning out the lights, she walked slowly towards the bed as her eyes became accustomed to the pale light the streetlights provided through the bedroom window. She pulled back the covers and curled up in the pillows. As she pulled a pillow into her chest and pushed down into the bed, Aaron's scent once more invaded her. Hugging the pillow forced the shirt to scrape across her breasts. She liked the tantalizing feel of the buttons and cloth edge against her skin. She reveled in the sensuous smells of the shirt and the bed. She enjoyed the sound of her own breathing. Her nipples hardened. The pillow became redundant, replaced by the soft teasing of tentative fingertips.
The tips of her nails traced the sides of her breasts and tickled her navel. She squeezed and rubbed her nipples and gently caressed her pubic hair. Her palms rubbed her thighs. Her fingers began to explore her pussy.
Beth spread her legs to provide greater comfort and access for the fingers she no longer controlled. All Beth could feel were the sensations on her pussy lips and hood and the pressure on her nipples. The sensations increased. Her fingers were bathed in wetness as they penetrated and probed and rubbed and squeezed her clit. Her nipples were pulled to elongated hardness. Warm colours flashed though her mind. Gasps, pleeaassure, and reeleeaase consumed Beth as she collapsed in a wave of heat and light.
The flight attendants had been great. They had prepared everyone for a rough landing and for emergency evacuation. The woman beside him had asked if she could hold Aaron's hand when they assumed crash positions. However, it was all really anticlimactic. The plane made the gentlest landing Aaron had ever experienced and rolled to a stop by the fire trucks at the far end of the field. An hour latter they were being transported by bus through the rain and sleet to hotels in Gander. The couples and groups had been assigned to one of the major hotels in the Gander while the singles had to make due with a three storey walk -up near the airport.
The passengers were only allowed to take their carry-on luggage and each clutched at the toiletry bags supplied by the airport staff. Aaron's seat companion from the plane was on the bus too and they sat together. Aaron learned that she was a 28-year-old PhD graduate in immunology who was traveling to London to take a job in a pharmaceutical lab. Her name was Sandra. After checking in, they discovered that their rooms were opposite one another on the third floor. Hungry, they agreed to meet in the hotel restaurant for dinner.
Aaron entered his room. It could only be described as starkly functional. It was in sharp contrast to the Toronto luxury suite in which he had spent the last 3 weeks. Throwing the bags on the bed. He began to undress. He needed a shower to relax. He stripped, grabbed his underwear and new toiletry bag, and headed to the washroom. He shaved, showered, and washed his underwear, which smelled of fear sweat. He dried the underwear first in a towel and then hung it over the room heater and pushed the high button. Dressing he felt somewhat apprehensive about eating with Sandra.
There were butterflies in his stomach as he headed down the hall to the restaurant-bar on the first floor. His gray, zippered turtleneck chaffed against his nipples. The seams in the jeans rubbed against his balls as he walked. He had not "dated" another woman since he had met Beth. Was this cheating?
The restaurant-bar was dark and noisy. It was filled with a combination of plane passengers and airport employees unwinding after a day's work. Along the far wall opposite the entrance was a small stand-up bar and next to it an undersized dance floor with a low stage. On the stage were a drum set and a jukebox, which was playing country and western music. Two couples were dancing and several more couples sat at the tables at the edge of the dance floor. The kitchen service entrance was at the far end of the room. A series of booth-like tables separated entrance area from the dance floor. Aaron selected a booth not far from the entrance and sat down. Soon Sandra joined him. It was obvious that she had showered too. Her curly brunette hair was pulled back into a damp ponytail. She was braless. The boat-necked jersey T-shirt outlined the edges of her small breasts and her nipples were clearly visible.
An older waitress soon approached them. As Sandra ordered, Aaron looked at the profile of the waitress and drifted off into his own world. Her bleached blond hair and stained white blouse brought to mind the phrase "...ridden hard and put away wet..."
"And what would the gentleman like?" The words startled Aaron.
