GIRL 100
SECURITY GIRL
I was on the other end of the trip from Airport Girl, arriving at the terminal to return home.
There are only two types of people - those who arrive absurdly early for a flight, and those for whom the jet door is shut right behind them as they lunge for their seat during push-back. I'm the first type. The Laws of Travel state that your traveling companion will be the other type, but this time, I was flying alone.
So when I arrived at the security line, I was carrying the latest book I was reading, which was "UP-DATING: How to Date Out of Your League" by Leil Lowndes. In short, it describes how to trap a rich guy, or a man of integrity, or a man of creativity into marriage. While I didn't agree with the mere thought of the premise, it turned out that this former airline stewardess had a lot of street smarts about the reality of the class system. I probably learned more about truly ancient moneyed people from her book than any other.
And in point of fact, all the self-help and dating books had something to say that I hadn't known before. There was no doubt about it, a personal crisis like a divorce can spur growth, if for no other reason than that in the midst of the suffering, one wants knowledge as a means of escaping the pain.
The uniformed security woman at the end of the line picked my book out of the plastic pan as I strapped on my belt.
"Is this yours?"
I smiled at her as I nodded, and drank in her looks. Uniforms always seem to take the sexuality away from a woman, but not this one. The name on her nametag was "Desiree." I've never met a woman with that name who wasn't beautiful. Although, it tended to be a stage name, like a stripper calling herself April or Tiffany.
She looked at the book again, then back up at me. She smiled. "Are you single?"
Yes, I said. I'm doing research for a project on dating. It's called "A Hundred Girls From Match." Want to hear about it?
She looked at me for a moment.
"I'm off in five minutes. Can I meet you for a drink? The bar by gate B-7?"
See you in ten minutes, I smiled.
She walked up to me a completely different woman. She wore a miniskirt and boots and a low cut blouse.
Wow, I said. They let you wear stuff like that to work?
She shook her head. "I came in jeans. I was supposed to have a date tonight, but he canceled."
He's an idiot, I said, grinning at her.
After one drink, she asked me how much time I had.
Over an hour, I said.
"Come with me."
She took me by the hand and led me to a corner office on the mezzanine level. She shut the blinds that looked down on the concourse below.
What is this place, I asked.
She smiled. "Security manager's office," she said, as she pulled off her shirt, and those lovely breasts plopped out. "He's my ex-husband."
Does he know you take strange men to his office?
"How do you think he became my husband," she said with a sly smile.
I looked down at her short but red nails as she undid my belt, and in one graceful motion she sank down to her knees, parted her apple red lips and took my lunging, hungry cock into her warm wet mouth. She moved back and forth on me until I almost came, then lay back on the leather couch by the window. She didn't take off her skirt or her thong, but merely pulled it aside.
"Fuck me," she said.
I plunged into her and her breath caught. She was tight and receptive and warm and wet, every molecule of her exciting every atom of me.
"My, oh my," she said, a dreamy expression on her face. "Aren't you the big one?"
I didn't say that it was my traitorous penis, Tyrannosaurus Rex, who was the big one of the two of us, but I thought it.
I fucked her slow at first, then built up, faster and faster, while she tried to suppress her moans, until finally she looked up at me and said the words that sent me over the edge: "Cum on my face, give it to me, daddy!"
I pulled out of her and exploded all over her forehead, the bridge of her nose, and her open, eager mouth. I'd never really been one of those porno star heavy cummers, but this situation was so over the top that I couldn't contain myself, and what seemed an entire gallon of cum spurted out of me. It was as if I glued her eyes shut. I trembled on my feet as every last drop of me fell onto her waiting face, and I watched as she wiped it out of her eye, opened her mouth and started sucking and licking every remaining drop from my cock.
I reached down and put myself back in my trousers. I pulled my belt back on and buckled it, and then there was a dizziness and I blinked. I was still finishing buckling the belt, but I was back at the security line, not in some dark curtained office with a half-naked, cum-splattered woman.
I'm sorry, I said to the security woman, what did you say?
"I said, is this yours?" She held the book I'd been reading in her hand.
Yes, I said. Despite the masculine effect of her uniform, she was cute, and her nametag read "Desiree."
She looked at the book again, then back up at me. She smiled. "Are you single?"
Yes, I said.
She looked at me for a moment and handed me the book.
"Have a nice flight, sir."
Thanks, I said, starting to walk away. I'd fantasized the whole thing, but it had seemed so real. I wondered if I were seeing things.
"Oh, sir?" she said.
Yes?
I turned, and I noticed an expression on her face. As if, in different circumstances, she might have been interested in me.
There was an expression of mischief laced with desire in her eyes. Just for a half-heartbeat.
"Oh, nothing," she said. "Have a good day."
You too, honey, I said. You too.
Tags: sex, love romance, dating, girls, women, hundred girls
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