Airport Escapade

Sitting in the waiting area of Terminal B, Gate 19 at the Dallas airport, Brett looked up from the book he was reading to see her bold, striking presence as she marched up toward the counter where the airline employees were appearing busy as they punched the computer keys. She turned to her husband to answer his inquiry of where she was headed, "I just want to check and make sure this is the right gate." The way she addressed her husband, it was clear who wore the pants in that relationship.

Her self-confidence and the commanding air she exuded mesmerized Brett. It did not hurt that she wore low-rise tight jeans and a fitted sweater that just could not quite reach the top of her jeans, thereby providing all observers with just a hint of her flat olive-colored stomach. Brett felt his pulse race as that initial intoxication of instant attraction to another person washed over him. He craved her. He wanted to roll her sweater up just a bit more so that he could kiss her stomach. That's all he wanted, or that is at least all he would admit to himself that he wanted at the moment.

For all the confidence she possessed, her husband appeared to be the diametrical antithesis. He squealed a look of meek and meager, and all too willing to do whatever his beautiful wife demanded.

Brett heard her give her name to the airline desk clerk: Natalie. Brett could not understand much else about the conversation, but it appeared to be fairly routine. There was a gate change, they told us to come here, here we are, is this the right one, why doesn't the marquis have our flight up there, et cetera. Brett could not hear the details, but the terminal suddenly went deafeningly silent as his attention was rapt with Natalie. He ceased to notice anyone else in the mostly full waiting area. He had a singular focus on her as though she was royalty, or was she radioactive? She had that dangerous quality that make responsible men do very irresponsible things.

She was the kind of brash young vixen that did not typically go for Brett. While Brett was an attractive guy, six feet tall, and a weekend triathlete, he was not exactly JFK, Jr. and he had no such illusions otherwise. Brett had recently graduated law school and was returning from visiting his family in Texas, where he grew up. He lived on the east coast now, trying to make his way as a young law clerk working for a federal judge. He thrived on being close to the seat of power, thinking that the closer you get to the seat of power, the more likely you'll eventually have that power.

In any event, Brett still longed for that wild encounter with a woman so smoking hot, that she turned heads and made grown men groan. Natalie was just that kind of woman and Brett was groaning with lust. Before Brett could lift his jaw, Natalie finished her conversation at the counter and headed for the seating area, with husband in tow. As she turned from the counter towards the seating area, she scanned the area and her eyes landed straight on Brett. He barely managed to gather any semblance of composure as she stared at him just a second longer than strangers should. Brett felt a spark at that single second laden with so much unsaid. Natalie did not even ask her husband where he wanted to sit. Instead, after her eye contact with Brett, she headed straight towards the empty seats next to him. She sat in the seat immediately to Brett's left, thereby placing her husband to her left.

As Natalie and her husband settled themselves, Brett made a valiant effort at pretending to continue reading his book about Alexander the Great's conquering of what is now known as Afghanistan. Brett laughed when he thought about how Alexander had conquered most of the known world by his mid-twenties and here Brett was in his late twenties, wishing upon wish that this stranger Natalie would look him in the eye just one more time for just one more second.

It was a rather pathetic existence, Brett reckoned, but Natalie could obviously sense his attraction to her and she found it exhilarating to be so objectified. Of course, she didn't gush like a river when every male stared at her, but there was something quietly intriguing about Brett that made her more receptive to his gawking. Perhaps it was that he was so bad at hiding his attraction to her while trying so desperately to appear unaffected by her.

While Brett pretended to read his book, Natalie and her husband got situated and began rummaging through their bags. Natalie pulled out some hand lotion, pulled off the rings on her fingers, placed them on her knee, and placed a dollop of lotion on the back of one hand. She rubbed the lotion in and then, apparently deciding that wasn't enough, repeated the process. It was not exactly erotica, but everything she did had Brett's attention.

After replacing her rings, she pulled out her own book to read. Brett smiled to himself when he finally discerned its title: How to Impress Anyone About Anything. Brett laughed, wondering if that was a more palatable version of the Dummies Guide series. Natalie was very successful at impressing Brett and it had nothing to do with what she read in that book.

After only a few minutes of reading, Natalie changed positions, placed both feet flat on the floor, leaned forward in her seat and rested her elbows on her knees as she read. Brett could see out of the corner of his eye that Natalie's sweater had ridden up due to her leaning forward. There lay between the bottom of her sweater and the top of her low-rise jeans, several inches of that beautiful tanned skin that Brett ached to caress. Even more enticing was the target tattoo that she had on her lower back.

Brett had never been a big fan of tattoos, but in recent years, young women were getting them more and more. And the frequent locale they chose was the lower back. For some reason, tattoos on a woman's lower back drove Brett crazy with lustful cravings. He thought it entirely appropriate that they had received the derogatory moniker of "target" tattoos by virtue of the fact that lovers of such women loved to use lower back tattoos as targets upon ejaculation.

Natalie's target tattoo was some tribal image of three interlocking pointed ovals. If it had some deeper meaning, it was entirely lost on Brett, because it simply evoked his baser instincts, not some thoughtful examination of its historical significance in pagan rituals.

Natalie knew exactly what she was doing when she chose to sit next to Brett and she knew exactly what she was doing when she leaned forward so that he could see her tattoo. Her marriage had been entirely predictable, which is what she had needed. But the stability of marriage had given way to the predictability, which in turn was leading to a bit of boredom. She liked the idea of flirting with Brett, a perfect stranger, in broad daylight, with her doting husband next to her and completely unaware.

Shortly after Natalie leaned forward to reveal her tattoo to Brett, an airline employee made an announcement that their plane was delayed about fifteen minutes and then the cleaning crew had to tidy up the cabin. After hearing this, Natalie asked her husband to go get her a magazine at the bookstore directly across from the gate waiting area. After he left to comply with her request, she pulled out a scrap of paper from her book, and wrote a short note on it. She held the note in her hand until she saw her husband paying at the register in the bookstore across the way. She then began closing up her book and placing it in her bag. While bent over her bag, she placed the note on Brett's seat, gently tucking the edge of it under his leg to secure it from falling. Brett felt her hand graze his leg as she placed the note there. Then she stood up, without looking at Brett, and began walking towards her husband who had started back.

Brett felt a surge of excitement as he turned the scrap of paper over and read its contents: Family Restroom, Gate 16, in 5 minutes. He read the note again to reassure himself he wasn't hallucinating. As he looked up from the second reading, Natalie had just finished telling her husband that, now that the plane was delayed, she was heading down to Starbucks, located a few gates down. He wanted to go with her, but she asked him to wait with their bags. As he headed back towards their seats in the waiting area, she turned to look past him at Brett. Brett looked up just in time to see Natalie catch his eye for that lingering second again and this time she smiled ever so faintly and then headed towards Gate 16.

Five minutes never seemed to tick by in such a slow agonizing way. After three minutes, Brett was up, but not knowing what to do with his bag, he thought it delicious irony and so he asked Natalie's husband if he wouldn't mind watching his bag for a few minutes while he went to the restroom. Her husband readily acceded to Brett's cordial request. Brett quickly thanked him and stifled a wry smile as he headed towards Gate 16 himself.

The Dallas airport had recently renovated and installed these family restrooms, usually located near the men's and women's rooms, in an effort to provide, for example, a father with an easier place to take his daughter to the restroom without marching her into a men's room. The family restrooms were always fairly spacious, one room affairs with a baby changing table that folded down from the wall.

As Brett approached the family restroom across from Gate 16, his heart raced. His chest felt like it was heaving from the pressure his heart was pounding on it from the inside. He did not see Natalie go into the restroom, which only increased his anxiety as he approached. What if she wasn't in there? He decided that the only way to look less suspicious is to walk like you know where you're going. He marched straight up to the door, turned the door lever, pushed the door in just enough to fit himself through, and walked in. As he started through the doorway he was surprised to find it pitch dark, but he didn't pause, nor reach for the light. Just as he passed the threshold, he felt movement in the room as the door slammed shut and he heard the button locked on the door lever.

His eyes had not adjusted to the darkness before he felt her hands on his chest pushing him back against the door. She lifted his shirt over his head and kissed his toned chest and down across every ripple of his stomach. Brett was a virile young man that pitied those that had to take a pill to get erect. As Natalie soon realized, she had not even touched his cock and it was fully erect inside his pants. As she unbuckled his pants and released his manhood, his eyes began to adjust to the light seeping in underneath the doorframe. It provided a soft, erotic glow by underlighting their features just enough to provide the necessary visual stimulus, but just dark enough to allow these strangers the necessary anonymity to give into their reckless abandon.

As Natalie knelt on the floor and licked from Brett's balls up the length of his shaft, Brett realized she had taken off her sweater and bra, but left her jeans on. Brett leaned his head back and rested one hand on her head as she worked his cock down her throat until her nose tickled his abdomen. Brett was in heaven and Natalie groaned with her own lust.

Natalie had been in control from the very beginning and Brett knew she was used to running the show with her husband. He could only surmise that this escapade was her attempt to alleviate the tedium of married life, so he thought he should abandon the status quo. In an instant, he grabbed a handful of hair pulled her up roughly, reached over and flipped down the baby-changing table, lifted her onto the table and began unbuttoning her jeans. Natalie gasped at the suddenness of his movements and was startled by the change of control.

She quickly realized he meant her no harm and just wanted to take control of the situation and thus she soon felt a rush of ecstasy as she realized what a virulent man was he and how she longed for this kind of dominant male to ravage her. Brett worked her jeans over her hips and thereafter quickly snapped them down and off her legs entirely. Much to his delight, she wore only the flimsiest of delicate underwear, which he summarily removed as well.

Brett grabbed a handful of breast and rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, as he kissed down her stomach, headed for the holy land. Electricity shot through her as he tweaked her nipple and her chest heaved in anticipation as he quickly worked his way down.

She had never felt oral sex like this. He dove in with reckless abandon as though his prize required vigorous foraging several inches deep. He had no qualms or hesitation about devouring her nether lips. He used his fingers to turn her inside out and then took broad licks sending her into shivers of delight. Natalie writhed in delicious agony, slipping off the edge of the changing table. In no time at all, she gripped the edge of the table with a force she feared would rip it off the wall, as the wave washed over and she grabbed the back of his head, cumming with a violent force that made her eyelids flutter and her eyes roll backwards.

With almost no time to recover, Brett stood up, pulled Natalie off the changing table and turned her away from him. She turned them both towards the sink and Natalie got the none-too-subtle hint as she grabbed the sides of the sink just in time to feel the head of his cockhead nudge its way into her dripping folds. She was wetter than a monsoon, but his expansive girth still required some gentle persuasion as her muscles relaxed and allowed this stranger entry. After he worked his length in, she sighed in delight at the fullness, only to feel him edge in just a little more, causing her to suddenly gasp. He was in uncharted territory and she loved the newness, the strangeness and the delicious naughtiness knowing that two feet away hundreds of people were walking past, oblivious to the mind-blowing fuck Brett and Natalie were sharing on the other side of that innocuously descriptive door.

Brett pulled his length back until he felt her push towards him, inviting him back in. She was used to his girth, and he plowed in to the hilt causing her to lift her head and gasp as it took her breath away. She pushed her shoulders away from the sink, which caused her back to arch even more giving a beautiful curve down and then back up to her ass. Brett knew she had a great hour-glass figure even in clothes, but here, without a stitch on, she was even more magnificent than he hoped. He put one hand on her lower back, just above the target tattoo and gently pushed her down a bit further. His other hand continued to hold onto her hip, pulling and pushing her back and forth as he increased his speed and length of dive.

This position, and his size, resulted in the rhythmic tapping of that heavenly spot deep inside her. With each thrust, the head of his cock would tap, tap, tap, causing her to climb towards the summit again. This was going to be a big one and she wasn't sure she could contain a scream. She gripped the cold, porcelain sink; he put both hands on her hips and hung on for dear life. She was grunting with each slap of his thighs against her ass, as his cock plumbed her depths. They were in perfect sync as they both climbed higher and higher until they crested at the exact same time. They both let out a guttural, animalistic moan as Brett pulled out and didn't even have to stroke himself as he Jackson Pollocked across her back from her "target" to the back of her neck. They both shivered for several moments as each successive wave washed over with less intensity.

Brett helped wash off her back and then they both dressed in short order. She stepped to the door, and without a word slipped out and headed back towards her husband. She told her husband that she had waited in the long line at Starbucks for a while, but finally gave up. They were both sitting down, as Brett made his way back towards his seat next to her. Natalie looked up at Brett as he approached, smiled that very knowing, wry smile and mouthed "thank you."