"Dedicated to the real 'Starr', who makes my life a little brighter." ~ J
Arrival
He waited in the in the cell phone parking spot, sipping his coffee, shivering in anticipation, hoping for the phone to ring soon. His eyes were alert to the shifting traffic, the variables of arriving and departing planes, and counting the minutes until her arrival. Dark brown eyes scanned the other cars, his arms restless in the blue blazer and knit shirt, watching patiently, even picking up the phone to see if it still had a signal. The backlight of the screen showed him her smile, and that he could be reached when she called. She was oval on the caller ID, long black hair in a wavy flourish of wild locks, curls cascading all over, her eyes big and bright, the smile surrounded with shimmering glossy lipstick.
Beep-Bleep.
The phone went off, and he answered quickly, not wanting to miss this moment. "Hello?"
"You know," the voice purred, "I am waiting for a car to get me from my arrival gate."
"Hi Starr. Two minutes. Bye."
Hurrying through the lots, Julian found himself pulling up, watching people coming out of the building, luggage in hand, peering deeply for her. And with a parting of a crowd, there she was: statuesque, slender, but with the curves of a woman, young in her smile and the light of her eyes, but dying inside to escape the east and live the adventures of a yearning hedonist going west should learn. Nothing was or could be taboo to this gorgeous woman in her tight miniskirt, her short, high-heeled boots, and the snug t-shirt that showed her marvelous C-cup breast arching up at the moonlight of the California night air. Several men moved about her, young, in the service, grotesquely fit physically, but instead she came 1700 miles from the Bible belt to Sodom itself in search of her friend, her cyber-lover, her 42-year old pervert.
A wave of recognition came from her hand and she shouted as his car pulled up at the curb: "Julian!"
Gears shifted, and he parked idling, jumping from the seat, snapping the power locks, calling out to her: "Starr! Over here babe! Toss everything in the back seat."
Within a second, she sat in the back seat, smiling softly, her luggage on the seat next to her. She leaned over the center of the front seats, kissing his cheek as he resumed his position, locking the doors as they enclosed themselves. His car quickly pulled out, slipping into the stream of cars exiting the airport and heading into the center of Los Angeles. Starr relaxed, her arms on the backrest, laying her head back, watching Julian as he eyed the traffic before moving from lane to lane, then smiling into the rear-view mirror at her potential lover and on-line friend.
They had been on the road for ten minutes when she began to shift like a cricket in the grass, watching her driver watching her in the mirror. Her knee came up and she smiled again, looking into his eyes, saying, "Julian? Do you know I flew across the country without panties?"
Julian gulped, glancing back, watching both knees rise, and Starr gracefully reaching down, touching the smooth darkness, her fingers disappearing under the folds of her skirt, moaning gently. "When I switched planes at Little Rock, I saw the nice agent from the TSA watching me, complimenting me on the smooth material of my skirt."
Starr moaned, and Julian began to feel a bead of sweat on his upper lip, his eyes moving quickly between the show in the back seat and the road ahead, watching the cars moving, wondering if anyone could see her masturbating.
Or was she teasing him?
