'Now boarding rows 15 and higher. Rows 15 and higher please."
The ticket agents' practiced voice roused a few more passengers to get up off of the terminal's chairs and que up with their carry-on luggage in front of the gate. Tim also stood up and walked over to the line, wondering at the tourist-families who always felt they should push to the front even before their row was called, as if the plane would just take off unexpectedly. No wonder the Brits sometimes roll their eyes at us Americans. He smiled as he gave his ticket to the agent, and walked down the tunnel to the plane.
Tim didn't look like a tourist, or at least he didn't think so. He was dressed in dark trousers, a black wool jacket and black leather shoes, his short light hair combed neatly. He walked quickly, but didn't hurry, and carried only a soft grey briefcase.
Patiently, he waited for the passengers in front of him to 'safely stow their luggage in the overhead compartments' and sit down, as he made his way through the A330 to his seat, 17F. A window seat, he noted as he sat down. Well, most of the flight to LaGuardia would be at night over the Atlantic, but at least he would be able to see London's lights as they took off.
He was watching the handlers load the luggage out the window when he noticed he had a neighbor. It was a pretty young woman, early 20's maybe. Blonde hair slightly past her shoulders, curvy figure, round face and pert nose. She wore a green polarfleece and sweatpants, and was shuffling around in her bag under the seat with something. She sat up.
"Hello."
"Hello," she smiled, with her pink lips and green eyes.
What nice luck, Tim thought. Much better than sitting aside a big sweaty guy for hours on end. He was about to say something, but the overhead speakers loudly crackled, and the pre-flight speech began. 'Thank you for flying.. Secure your own mask before assisting others.. enjoy your flight.. We'll be taking off momentarily.' The plane was reaching the runway and was about to get clearance for takeoff.
'Do you like flying?' Tim asked his neighbor, who he noticed was looking out the window past him.
'Oh.. Well I suppose so. It's exciting seeing the ground disappear like that.'
She had a slight English accent, and a quiet soprano voice.
'Would you like a better view? We could trade seats.'
He couldn't tell, did she blush a little? Must be shy. The plane suddenly pushed them both back into their seats as it began it's takeoff run.
'Oh no thank you. I think I can see fine.'
London quickly came into view below them as the big plane left the ground and arced into the sky. Tim stared out the window at the galaxy of buildings and street lights. He noticed his neighbor was leaning halfway over him towards the window as well, watching the city. She had a nice, unplaceable smell, and he thought he could feel the heat from her face, now close to his, looking out..
The plane banked steeply to the right, and she almost slipped forward into the window under the incline. Reflexively, she caught herself with her left hand on his right thigh.
'Oh I'm sorry.'
'It's ok.' He said quickly, smiling.
She was definitely blushing. Tim didn't want her to feel embarrassed, and he wanted to say something, but he suddenly felt a bit flushed himself, and could think of nothing to say. She looked so pretty and soft. He had a strong desire to just lean over and..
But he was a civilized young man, and with a great effort he pulled his mind away. By way of cover for his growing erection, he took out the in-flight magazine from the forward seat pocket, squirming a bit in the process. Bloody trousers.
'Ah, the fine and illustrious journal of the air. Attache magazine', he joked. She smiled, at ease again.
'Were you visiting London?' She asked.
'Yeah, but just for a few days. Business trip.' He smiled.
'Oh, What sort of business are you in?'
'It's not really a business, it's an architectural archive project. My boss needed a few photographs of some churches, and I was the only one who thought flying to London for three days sounded like fun.'
The truth was, he was the only one in the little organization young and free of schedule enough to find random jaunts like this enjoyable. His middle-aged boss had kept acting like he was doing her a favor, but he was just glad to get an expenses-paid trip to London, even for just three days. He'd even been able to go out to the clubs one night.
'That sounds really interesting' she said.
They talked a bit longer. She was a graduate student in early American history at a Vermont school, and had been back in England visiting her parents. She was studying the loyalist Americans who had opposed the revolutionary war. They talked about this and that for a while longer, eventually he thought to introduce himself. Her name was May.
By this point, most of the other passengers had turned off their overhead reading lights, and many were beginning to try to sleep. Tim switched off the light, and May leaned back and closed her eyes. No meal was going to be served before breakfast on this flight, but a stewardess came by, quietly offering blankets. Tim accepted one, and as he opened it, May stirred, and he offered it to her. She murmered a quiet thank-you, and again when he helped he cover up with it. She must be pretty tired. But Tim could never sleep on airplanes, and he was still a bit turned on. He allowed himself a long look at May's face, as she had turned her head towards him in her sleep. This may be harder than sitting next to some slob after all, he thought. She looked so good, damn.
Finally though, the previous night's rave dancing caught up with him, and he found himself nodding off. Every time his head would fall slightly, and he would wake up again. Once, he woke to find that May was a deeper sleeper than he. She was resting her head on his shoulder. He felt the rhythm her silent breathing and counted it along his own. He relaxed slightly to give her a more comfortable angle, and she responded by snuggling closer to him. Now he definitely wasn't going to be able to sleep. He sat wide eyed in the dark cabin, the dull roar of engines softening all sound, breathing in the smell of May's hair, inches from his face. His heart was beating a little quickly.
Rudely, the pilot's voice came on over the cabin.
'Sorry folks, it looks like we're going to be experiencing some turbulence. I've got to ask everyone to stay seated while I've turned on the fasten seatbelt sign.'
