"Your attention, please... Flight 713 to Montreal and Chicago has been delayed due to severe thunderstorms in the area. Your estimated departure time will be a further three hours from now." So announced the public address system at the airport.
Sara sighed and checked her watch. Great, she thought, that'd put her in a strange city in the middle of the night. It'll be impossible to get a cab, the weather sounds like it'll be terrible and the stupid meeting tomorrow will be a complete waste of time. Chalk up another one to working for a living.
Seeing as she now had plenty of time on her hands, she gave the bartender a wave to order another Pomtini. Looking around at the sparsely populated airport lounge, Sara sighed and thought to herself, could there be any place more depressing? Really, could there be?
Sipping her drink, she watched people come and go into and out of the lounge. Most were busily going about some kind of business, catching a quick drink between flights, meeting with friends and family for arrivals or departures. For a time, she watched as a professional worked the lounge. The leggy blonde attracted plenty of looks in her short leather skirt, white blouse and fuck me heels; and a few drinks from admirers. Finally, though, she appeared to settle on a good-looking man dressed in business casual attire who was hauling a large briefcase.
At the bar, they sat for some time and had a couple of drinks. Sara watched her work on him, lightly touching his arm with her fingers, rubbing a bare toe against his leg, smiling and looking into his eyes. Finally, as if she'd made up her mind he wasn't a cop, she leaned and whispered a sweet nothing into his ear. He surreptitiously dug out his wallet, some bills passed hands under the bar and she led him out of the lounge.
Sara sighed. Well, she thought, at least someone's in for a good time tonight. At least, for his sake, she hoped he was in for some fun. It looked quite a few bills had been exchanged.
Sara studied the hustle and bustle of the lounge, sipped back a couple more drinks, listened to a semi decent piano player and waited. Finally, a good-looking guy in his 20s wandered in, catching her attention as he looked around the lounge. Apparently not seeing who he was expecting, he took a booth in the corner, and turned to watch a hockey game on the TV.
Shortly after, two attractive women who Sara thought were about the same age walked in and giggled when they saw the studly guy in the booth. One blonde, one brunette. They slipped into the booth, one of each side of him, and each gave him a peck on the cheek.
The three ordered drinks, clinked glasses, then fell into a boisterous conversation with much laughing, giggling and light touching. Sara sighed again as she watched them. Sipping her drink, she found herself actually watching the hockey game on TV. Some moments later, she snapped herself out of it and looked back at the group of three at the booth.
She now noticed they were sitting much, much, closer together and the man had his arms around both girls, a big, dopey grin on his face. Looking a little more closely, Sara, without appearing to be spying, looked under the table, where she noted the blonde had her hand inside the guy's zipper and was fondling him. No wonder he's smiling, she thought. And as she watched, the brunette leaned into him and kissed him, obviously slipping her tongue into his mouth.
As Sara watched the blonde's handiwork, her mind wandered and she slipped back in time a few years.
They were college days, some of her favourite days, and days before hubby and kids. Sara smiled as she let her thoughts wander. It all started in a bar similar to the one she was in. She and her friend and roommate Tiffany had agreed to meet Lance for drinks. Lance was one of those hunky, athletic types, very sure of himself, who looked good, kinda new it, but was attractive anyway.
Over drinks in their frat house, they had realized they both lusted after Lance. They all shared a psych class and the flirting had gotten to a point where the prof had grumpily asked them to stop their "foolishness" in his classroom.
Actually, over drinks one night in the back yard, Tiff had suggested a small wager as to who would manage to sleep with Lance first. Sara had laughed off the idea of a wager at the time; fucking as a contest wasn't really her style.
But then, one Thursday night, at the local drinking establishment, Sara and Tiff were out with a couple of other roomies. Everyone had been drinking, faces were flushed and laughter pealed out over the pub. Just as a plate of wings arrived, so did Lance, strutting in like he owned the place.
Looking around, he noticed his psych classmates and made his way across the bar. "Ladies..." he said, pulling a chair to the table between Sara and Tiff and plunking down on it backwards while nodding to the other girls. "Who's buying me a beer?"
Tiff ordered Lance a beer and the two watched as he guzzled some down. Putting his pint down, he put his arms around the two and gave them a chummy squeeze. "And how are my two favourite psych babes, tonight?"
Both giggled and hugged him back, then reached for their own pints. Sara looked over at Tiff, who had an odd look about her, and finished her beer in a long pull. Turning back to Lance, she noticed Tiff had a hand below the table while she talked animatedly with Lance. A couple of the roomies tried to get into the conversation, but Tiff monopolized things.
Somewhat put out, Sara edged her chair closer to Lance, put her arm around him and gave him a peck on the cheek while moving a hand to his thigh. As she ran her fingers over his thigh, she could feel his leg muscle tense and, as he talked to Tiff, he pushed his leg against Sara's. Looking down, Sara could see that Tiff was touching Lance through his jeans and she could see that he had responded positively. Positively? she thought to herself. You've been in way too many classes, girl.
With Tiff touching him under the table, Lance had a lopsided smile that said he was really enjoying her attentions. His eyes were slightly closed and he pressed his leg harder against Sara's. Looking from one to the other, he suddenly reached to the floor, picked up his coat and put it on. "Well babes," he said with a smile and standing. "I'm outta here. Who's coming with me?"
Sara and Tiff looked at each other, laughed, and stood. Tiff quickly whispered to Sara, "I will if you will." Sara nodded and they took their coats from their chairs and put an arm through Lance's, one on each side. As they sauntered through the crowd, Lance's hand slipped down to their bums and he squeezed a cheek on each. Moving outside, Lance flagged down a passing cab and they all got in; Tiff first, then Lance and Sara.
"Where to babes?"
"Our place," said Tiff, snuggling into his chest, "right Sara?"
"Sure. We even have more beer there."
