Hindsight is 20-20 yet even now I could not explain how I knew. The memory still as fresh as the scent that lingered on my lips and in my mind. Besides me c sat quietly, unconsciously fingering her collar, smiling to herself, still amused no doubt by the security check... As the plane gathered speed I turned to c, smiled, winked, her eyes shining, she knew what I was thinking, shared my sadness, understood what last night meant to me.
The aircraft began to shudder, rotate speed, the nose lifting, the ground dropping away, only the memory remains, heart-warming, heart breaking, a gift to last eternity.
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The departure lounge was unusually empty, even though the flight was delayed, perhaps missed connections accounted for it? The unexpected fog has succeeded in causing chaos as usual. To pass the time c had buried herself in a book, one I knew well, had read even before it was published, yet still I had bought it, partly to keep a promise, partly for the joy I felt seeing it on the bookshelf. One of a steadily growing collection all written by one very special author.
Whilst c read, I sat back, looking around, people-watching, a private game, matching kinks to people, assigning them each a sexual persona, kindy, vanilla, so many variations. Mannerisms, posture, dress, attitude, all revealed something. One by one I worked my way around the lounge, never staring, just passing glances. discrete... The tannoy crackled into life, raucous yet muffled, as of the announcer was chewing cotton panties.
The fog was not expected to clear, the flight delayed indefinitely. Perfect, just perfect. I laid a hand on c's thigh, "let's go find somewhere that serves tea." Closing her book c tucked it into her bag and stood, rising with one fluid motion, pausing as I to stood up, before following me out of the lounge and back into the terminal's wide walkway, always on my left, close but never touching, c kept pace with me as I headed for the central area where we could find a café.
I took a seat at one of the few empty tables whilst c headed to the counter, not needing to ask what I wanted. The table was next to the 'webzone' where a bank of computers were occupied by those who sought to kill time or make up for not having brought their laptops. A seating area provided somewhere to wait when the computers were all busy, as well as providing somewhere for the laptop users to recharge or take advantage of the wireless connections.
Back to the game, people-watching central, then I spotted her, just as c returned bearing our drinks, Earl Grey tea and a large latte. "Thank you sweetheart." Sitting besides me c opened her bag, retrieved the book and opened it carefully, knowing full well what it meant to me. I sipped my tea and resumed the game, the girl intrigued me, though at first I could not work out why.
The pantie gagged announcer seemed pleased to announce that all flights were cancelled and that those passengers holding valid tickets should contact their airline for further information. Perfect, just Perfect.
European but not English, slim but not overly so, Flat shoes, smart but casual, skirt, blouse, jacket, a stylish shoulder bag at her side, a laptop balanced on her thighs, long hair loosely bound. My eyes had lingered too long, the girl looked up, glancing at me, then away, then back, but this time not looking at me, but at c, but not... at the book. I knew right then, thought I have no idea exactly why I knew, not with such conviction. Her eyes widened, looking at us both, that expression, those eyes, I had seen them so many times, my imagination conjuring them, uncannily accurate, yet still the real thing was so much better.
Standing, I walked towards her, our eyes locked for the first time. Yet so often they had locked before, in our world of shared words and shared imaginings. As I drew closer she fumbled closing her laptop, letting it slide into the chair as she stood, blushing, eyes wide, her knees seemingly undecided between standing and kneeling. "lucy..."
"Mistress."
Her voice surprised her. I smiled, what do you say to the love you never intended to meet?
"Join us..." A command phrased as a question, leaving a way out, only fair, given the circumstances.
A little flustered, conscious of her blushes that at any other time she would score as a breaking the meter, she packed away her laptop, lifted her bag and moved to follow me, her actions far ahead of any conscious decision, as her eyes made plain. As we approached the table c stood, aware that something important was happening, yet unsure of what. "lucy, meet c. c meet lucy, you're reading her book..." They smiled, both well aware of the others relationship with me, and therefore with each other.
We sat, whilst c excused herself, heading for the counter. lucy and I simply shared the moment, lost in each others eyes, words did not exist that could convey the feelings we shared right then, words had built our relationship, now words were unnecessary.
Placing the cup of coffee before lucy, c sat quietly, sharing our silence, knowing now was not the time.
Deep in her eyes the question formed, as yet unspoken, the answer reflected in my our eyes, a conversation of souls.
"Phone your Master, ask him." We both knew the question, neither knew the answer.
-------
How do you ask the one you love for permission to spend time with one they know you love? How great must the bond of love, of trust, of compassion be to grant such permission?
lucy spoke quietly, her eyes cast down, not in shame, but in respect. "Mistress?" I took the offered phone, holding it as I looked at lucy, who sat perfectly still, body controlled, holding her breath, awaiting judgement.
Our conversation was short, direct, polite. Hearing her Masters decision it would be wicked to conceal my feelings, unfair to remain outwardly calm, evil to show no emotion. I handed the phone back to lucy. I am evil.
