James hated standing in lines – hated it with a passion.
Especially airport lines, and this line was a dilly. He'd blown his timing totally, which was most unusual for him. He sighed, shrugged, quit being mad at himself, and queued up. Fifty ahead of him? Brando's famous line from 'Apocalypse Now' ran through his head: "The horror. The horror."
He settled down to his favorite airport pastime, watching women go by, trying to be discreet and not embarrass anyone.
He appreciated the female of the species both in the abstract-generic and especially in the concrete-specific. Big, small, old, young. For instance, the little knot of people just entering, looking about. From the puzzlement on the face of the man leading the troop, James knew they were not frequent travelers. Not to mention the big "Aha!" when the guy found the right sign.
They moved vaguely in his direction. A small, definitely quite old lady and her daughter (even at fifty feet his taxonomist's eye could see the similarity in phenotypic expressions of the underlying genetics). Grandmom, daughter w/husband, two grandkids. G'ma was obviously the traveler today, since she was the only one carrying a decent-sized purse or other hand baggage. The kids were bored, the parents were busily solicitous of Grandma, son-in-law pulling her single large roller suitcase.
"Grandma" was not the least bit intimidated by the crowd or by the prospect of her long journey. After all, for most of her professional life, she'd traveled a lot, and she enjoyed the hustle/bustle of a big airport the way she might take in a crowded county fair. Lots of total strangers, busy, intent - blooming buzzing confusion with some profound underlying order to it. Nearly chaotic, yet strongly patterned.
Besides, she liked to watch people: during travel, it kept her sane. She was a diplomat, however, and let her relatives "take care" of her enough to satisfy their own needs. She spotted the proper line immediately, but let "THE MAN of the FAMILY" (they always seemed to want their manhood acknowledged in all caps, she thought) figure it out on his own so he could lead and feel like he had done his male-duty thing.
While "The Man" pondered, she grazed visually, concentrating on the long line they would wind up in, when finally The Man figured things out. There at the line's end stood a young man, apparently a solo traveler like herself. Her entourage, if The Man ever DID figure things out, would be right behind him.
She studied him briefly. About fifty years younger than herself, but still no child. Good looking in a low-key way. Mustachioed. Apparently ready for a long trip, tee shirt, loose khaki shorts, comfortable shoes. Good legs showing, generally trim and in shape. He was studying the crowd casually, occasionally eyeing the big flight-data board hanging from the ceiling. His eyes flicked across her own group, then scanned the room again.
"The Man" finally figured things out (sheesh!) and they meandered towards the proper line.
To James, "Grandma" was definitely the more interesting of the two approaching women. She was quite small, about five feet zero, probably ninety-five pounds wet, and ramrod erect... strong, and moving gracefully, with total body-control. The remnants of old dance or sport training, probably, James thought: whatever, it had certainly stood by her very well.
The presumptive daughter wasn't a physical success, having already gone to fat. He returned his attention to Grandma: now they were definitely aimed at his own line. Grandma going to Amsterdam tonight, and on her own? Interesting! Something to contemplate instead of repeating "The Horror" ad nauseam.
Discreetly now. Study without alarming, without letting them take notice. Grandma. Age? Hard to tell, she was very well preserved indeed. That plus her grace of movement confounded his effort to gauge. No trace of hitches or age-slowdown irregularities. Sixty-late, perhaps... more likely early seventies, though, very hard to tell. Could even be a wonderfully-preserved mid seventies?
Now they were in line next behind him. That made it easier to get details, but much harder to avoid being caught studying. He scanned her in the interstices of looking elsewhere. G'ma had clear, pretty skin whose soft, numerous lines and near-transparency said "aged." Facial structure under the wrinkles shone through, made the details of the covering more interesting than distracting. Nice white teeth, whiter than James's as a matter of fact, and obviously her own. Short, carefully coifed hair, solid silver-gray, no streaking, not particularly old-lady-thin either.
No hairspray, and no old-lady perfumes, thank god for that favor! Nice clothing, also a bit out of age-character by James's estimation: all-black flowing materials, slightly clingy. A single strand of gray pearls was her only jewelry. Nice. The outfit was good traveling stuff, comfortable, loose. A just-below-knee skirt, boat-necked blouse.
He got a glance at her neck and collarbones as the family talked: she must have decided early on not to do the suntan thing, because the many years she carried above and beyond his own 27 hadn't made that expanse any worse than the backs of his own hands.
Small but solidly muscled calves (more evidence of dancing?), no ankle-bagginess, and no hose! More and more interesting, wasn't she, the more details he collected? Tiny traces of nipples on small, soft breasts beneath the clingy, flowing material, likewise a tiny hint of callipygian cleft showing through the skirt. That most likely meant no slip, as well. No doubt at all that she was still quite aware of her femaleness, and willing to show a touch of it. Classy attitude.
Then he gulped mentally and recomputed as "daughter" said "Grandma, I hope you have a good time, but Johannesburg is an awfully long way for a seventy-nine year old woman to travel alone!"
"Grandma" was in fact a
great
-grandma, which made her all that much more interesting. Shortish generation times in this family, real contributors to the human population problem. Oh well. James reappraised her and, based on the new data, ratcheted his opinion upwards a long way. He hoped he would look that good, male-wise, at her age. The kids' father referred to her as "Jane". Okay, too bad it wasn't something more interesting. The kids called the lady "GG", presumably for "GreatGrandmom". Cuter than "Jane".
She could be GG for him, it was always nice to have a name to go with the view.
Suddenly, GG nearly blew him away: she stretched her arms up above her head, and lo and behold, boobs appeared against the blouse fabric, traces of nipples went from barely discernable to quite obvious. If she had on a bra at all, it had to be one of those "Little Nothings". She folded forward from the waist, stiff-legged, until she was totally jack-knifed, with her forehead against her ankles. Simply amazing, her flexibility!
Unfortunately for James, she knew what she was doing, and held her blouse in place with her hands. Too bad, he thought, then wondered why he wanted a glimpse of seventy-nine year old breasts anyway, decided it was the overall mystery. She held the pose, with her back to him: below her obviously-taut bottom, the hem of her skirt did what physics and fit demanded, and rose far up above her knees: the backs of her lower thighs showed, smooth-skinned, tendons pulling the skin taut: it was smoother than anyone her age had a right to. The calf-preview had been right, GG had very pretty legs, from ankle to several inches above her knees! And a nice, neat, narrow butt, too. He was astounded at the tiny prickle in his crotch, then grinned privately to himself. Why shouldn't his body respond to a pretty woman, regardless of her age?
Daughter protested with a hissed "Grandma! Do you HAVE to do that in public!?"
Face nearly at the floor, GG said "Yes, dear, I do. We've been sitting in your car so long that I got totally stiff, and god only knows how long we'll be in this line! So, yes, I do." She straightened up, and caught James's eye for the first time, smiled at him and said "These days, I teach yoga."
She scanned him up and down, disarmingly direct, studied his legs where they underpinned his traveling-shorts, and then offered her analysis: "You look, from your legs, like you must be a runner. Which means you'll be stiff as a board, unless you are about ten standard deviations from the mean."
He was intrigued even more: science-speak, used correctly, and in ordinary conversation with a perfect stranger. Brains in there, and education.
Before he could answer, she folded herself down again: from the floor she looked up at him and said, "This is something you should learn!"
From her inverted position, GG was certain that James couldn't tell where her eyes were focused, and gave herself permission to check out his legs for a few tenths of a second. Nice thigh-muscles, skin tanned and taut, a goodly dusting of golden blond hairs. He shifted slightly as her eyes moved, and for a tiny moment she was certain she saw something in the shadows of the leg-hole of his shorts, but it was gone almost instantly.
Her belly twanged: that had to have been the tip of his cock. That meant no underwear! Which, she supposed, could possibly make good sense for a man who was going to be traveling for many hours. At any rate, the idea certainly could fire a woman's imagination. She took a half-second to study her own reactions. Why, after all these years, had her belly done that flop?
Daughter looked at James and said "Sorry! Really, she doesn't do this sort of thing all the time, and she actually does NOT flirt with every man she stands in line with. Really!"
James grinned at her discomfort, and said "Doesn't bother me at all. She's right on both counts: I'm both a runner and seriously stiff, just as she guessed, and at least five s.d. from the mean. And I certainly SHOULD learn some yoga."
GG eyed him from her ankle level, her expression changing slightly as he returned her scientific terminology: contact established, we share something the rest of the world knows little about, we are kin. That was nice!
She straightened up finally, gave a little upper-body shake to get everything back into place (James felt he knew what it was that needed settling-back, too!) and then asked "Are you going to Amsterdam?"
James nodded: "Actually, I'm headed on from there to Johannesburg as well. Couldn't help overhearing you folks."
Her eyes brightened, she stuck out her hand and said "Allow me: I'm Jane, or GG if you prefer, as do the kids. I'm going to JB, where I was born, to visit my older sister. And you are..."
