This is a partially true story from about a decade ago. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. This is my first attempt at writing so please let me know how I'm doing.
It had been a long trip -- 4 days full of sales meetings. The kinds of days that leave you drained and crashed out in the shitty hotel bed afterward. I didn't even have the energy to go down to the hotel bar afterward. Being the senior sales engineer with a pair of relatively new account reps meant that I had carried most of the load myself to ensure the deal got made. The phone call from my boss telling me to take some time off when I got back and expect a nice bonus helped a little. But right now I was still sanding in the gate area of SFO waiting to fly back to Atlanta and be done.
When the gate agent called my group I couldn't make my way down the jetway fast enough. I was just hoping to be lucky enough to have a pretty stewardess hand me one of those tiny airplane bottles of bourbon and not have a smelly guy in the other seat. I took my aisle seat in business class and put my laptop bag and my suit jacket overhead and waited. Luckily that tiny airplane booze showed up quickly.
The usual travelers start to walk past towards the back of the plane -- fellow business people who either don't travel enough or their company is too cheap for the business class upgrade, tourists with their cheap souvenirs and San Francisco labeled shirts and hats, the usual. The usual that she walked through the boarding door. Young, early 20s maybe, tall and curvy, flowy skirt just above her knee, tank top that is doing nothing to hide the kind of perfect chest that erotic stories are written about. Backpack with a Berkely logo on it and a pair of trendy Converse round out her look. I almost curse myself knowing that no college kid ever is going to grace the seat next to me in business class, dooming me for sweaty business guy number 14 for sure.
"Is this 6A?" She asks as she comes along side of me. I look up trying like hell to maintain eye contact as I nod and stand up to let her by. She turned to slide through, her ass making the briefest contact with my pants, her skirt catching just enough to flash a little cheek. She sits down allowing me a view down her shirt that I quickly take and sat back down. I remember thinking to myself "This is a definite upgrade"
The doors closed, the safety briefing completed and we start the run up to take off.
She seemed nervous, white knuckles on the armrest and all that. She glanced over to me, "I'm sorry, I really hate this part."
I chuckle a little, "I fly so much that it's just normal for me now but I remember when it was still new to me." I hold out the half empty whiskey bottle to her, "would this help your nerves?"
She looked at me oddly for a second before reaching for the bottle and chugging it down in one go. "Thanks, I'm Becca by the way."
"Jason, nice to meet you." I said as the engines kicked to full speed. Becca's eyes went wide and she went back to grabbing the armrests again, this time however my hand trapped between hers and the armrest. Just a few minutes later we are level and calm and she released me.
"Sorry," she blushes a little, "I'm really not afraid of flying, except for the takeoffs." She fidgets in her seat a bit, which made her skirt ride up a bit. I did my best not to get caught noticing.
"It's ok, maybe I should have let you have the whole bottle" I gestured to the empty one in her hand, getting a smile from her, visibility relaxing a bit.
"Mr Jason, are you trying to corrupt a young college student?" She asked with her blue eyes wide in apparent shock. I stammered out what could only have been categorized as a bad apology before she cut me off with a laugh. "I'm in college, obviously I've had booze before."
At this point I realized I'd been had and laughed with her, though hers is far more musical than mine. I wished I wasn't at least 15 years older than this beauty next to me. "So how does a college student end up in business class with a bunch of old dudes like me?" I ask, her eyes twinkling in response.
"I told you I hate take-offs right? I took one of those offers to take a later flight and they upgraded me. I thought that the nicer seat would make it easier. Plus it'll piss off my mom to have to wait longer for me," she giggled the last part out. She responded to my raised eyebrow, "She's still mad that I went across the country to college instead of staying close to home in Atlanta, and she hasn't stopped complaining for three years. I have to get what little revenge I can!"
