So, the title of this work is a BIT misleading. It IS a story about Ginger and I, and yes, we did have an adventure at Comicon...but it's not like we were absolute strangers. We knew each other in college, but that was twenty years ago. The girl I knew then was a much different person than the woman I met that day.
I'm Logan, which is a great name to have when you go to Comic book conventions. No, I do not cosplay that particular character, mostly because knife hands make normal human interaction rather difficult and I'm a people person. At a Comicon my fashion sense is what I call dressy nerdcasual. Blazer over a nerd t-shirt, nice jeans, Chuck Taylor all-star Converse in various colors, low cut to show off nerd themed socks that if I'm really on my game will compliment or share a fandom with the shirt I have on. I stand tall at six foot three, I have sandy brown hair, blue eyes, of course I have a beard, but I actually take CARE of my facemonster, thankyouverymuch, and thanks to a lifelong addiction to martial arts I have a pretty good physique for someone who spends as much time reading comics and sitting in front of a computer as I do.
I am the producer of a local podcast and so we get tables at a lot of comic conventions just to help spread our visibility and grow our listenership. You should totally listen too, the hosts are funny and insightful, and it's well put together if I do say so myself. The great thing about that is the fact that I get access to the convention floor during the setup phase, which is the best time to meet the people who run the booths, offer a helping hand, and maybe get a discount later when you come by at the very END of convention when they are about to start taking stuff down and that one collectors item you had your eye on is still on their table.
What can I say, I have an eye for both memorabilia AND for bargains. Plus, you can usually get a picture with some of the celebrities before they charge you for it. Then once the floor opens to the public it's a flurry of activity as we all take turns manning our little table with flyers and taking breaks to walk the floor and check out all the great cosplayers. I am the official photographer for our group, so I take the people watching part of the job pretty seriously. I am naturally the gregarious sort, so I don't have to worry about social anxiety the way a lot of members of the geek community seem to, and I always get consent before taking a photo of anyone. Then I get to tell them that if they want to see the photo I just took to head over to the website for our podcast. It's marketing! I turned onto the main expressway on the convention floor about to head down to Artist Alley when I first spotted her, which really is a feat in and of itself.
Ginger is not a tall woman.
Her blazing red hair was the giveaway that I had noticed from across the convention floor. Yes, her name is Ginger and she IS a ginger. She was wearing a super cute blue TARDIS dress that featured a plunging neckline, the skirt flared out from her hips and went down to her knees, showing off her cute and petite build. She had on cats-eye glasses and a VIP lanyard that told me that she had paid a lot of money to meet an actor I had gotten to chat up and had a selfie with before the convention started, and she was talking to one of the anime artists. I walked over and waited for her to finish her conversation, standing just out of her field of vision, and I started to sing a choir song from our college days.
I love watching the moment of dawning realization on people, and it was tremendously satisfying to see Ginger move to walk away from the table, hear me softly singing, pause, straighten, then finally turn around to see me. Her reaction after that was equally priceless. She squealed in delight and taking a two-step running start jumped up at me in a flying hug. I barely had enough time to slide my camera to the side and prepare to catch her, but again, a lifetime of martial arts training served me well in that I have good reflexes. I caught her around the waist and she wrapped her arms around me. I set her down and we spent the next ten minutes just gushing through the 'Oh my Gawd how are you?' and 'I can't believe it's been THAT long since college' bit of catching up when I got a buzz telling me that a panel I was wanting to go see was half an hour from opening its doors.
That would leave me just enough time to get a quick bite to eat and walk over to that part of the convention center. I asked if Ginger would be interested in accompanying me, and she was, so we went off to the food court, got some grease bombs and walked over to the panel breakout rooms. We weren't the first ones in line, but neither were we in danger of not getting a seat. We ate our food and talked about our shared fandoms as we waited in line, then as the room opened and we went inside to take our seats Ginger headed all the way to the back of the room, the very last row, and sat in the middle of it.
Now, this was the second panel of the first day of a three-day convention. It was about podcasting, a pretty niche crowd, and the only reason I was here was because nobody else at our table wanted to go, but also thought someone should be there in case there was good info. Suffice to say that there was NO way this room was going to be full, in fact everyone else that was waiting in line was already inside and sitting in the first third of the seats. I really hadn't expected Ginger to want to come along, and now that she had taken us all the way to the back of the room. But soon I realized it was because she wanted to keep chatting with me and didn't want to disturb the rest of the people in attendance. Fair enough.
We quietly conversed as the presenters took the stage and started to go through their presentation. I realized that I had already heard everything these folks were going to talk about at a different event a year earlier, so I quickly tuned them out and focused instead on the cute redhead sitting to my right. It had been nearly twenty years since we had seen each other in college, and to be honest, even back then we weren't fast friends. We were acquainted the way all people are who go to a small college, but we also were in choir together, so that gave us a lot of ground to work through, singing snippets of the more memorable songs we had learned all those years back and giggling when we harmonized. It was good to catch up with her, but to be honest I was starting to run out of songs, and the panel was wrapping up.
People started getting up to leave, but we just kept sitting there and our conversation just kept going. Finally, the last other person left in the room got off his phone and walked to the door and left. As soon as the door closed behind him Ginger paused in the middle of whatever sentence she had been saying about one of her old roommates her freshman year and said, "Finally, some privacy!" She stood up, kicked her leg over mine and straddled me, giving me a brief flash at some colorful panties, and as she sat back down on top of me she pulled my chin down by grabbing a handful of my beard and pulled our lips together in a hungry kiss.
NOT what I was expecting.
When we were in college, the best way I can describe Ginger, well, she was your standard prototypical good girl. Our choir went on tour every Spring, and one of our days off was in New Orleans. You can imagine what a bunch of college kids might do with a free night in the Big Easy, and you would be thinking about the things that I did that night...yeah, that too. But Ginger was in her hotel room early, asleep by ten, and up early the next morning as the rest of us clambered bleary-eyed back onto the tour bus. I always thought of her as genuine, sweet, and she is undoubtedly beautiful, but seeing this new wild side to her was a complete 180 and it took me quite by surprise, but when you get pulled into a kiss like THAT, there's really only one thing TO do, ride that train until you can't ride it any more. Her hands were snaking around me and she was running her fingers through my hair, I placed my hands on her waist, but soon had reached under her skirt so I could squeeze her ass as she grinded her body against mine. Our tongues were frenzied as we swirled them around and explored each other's kiss.
I regretted the amount of garlic that had been a part of my lunch, but like I said, this all kind of took me by surprise. Ginger reached a hand down between us and grabbed me between the legs, feeling the bulge that had quickly grown there and as our kiss finally parted and we opened our eyes, she gave me the most sinfully wicked grin and gave my crotch a playful squeeze. She started to tug up my Ghostbusters t-shirt when we heard the door to the presentation room open again. Ginger quickly stood up and as some people started to mosey in to get set up for the next panel we shuffled out from the back row and left. As we got into the hallway, hand-in-hand, I glanced over at her, saw her peeking up at me out of the corner of her eye, and we both just started roaring with laughter. A couple people waiting in the hallway looked at us like we were crazy, but neither of us cared at all. When we finally could breathe and speak again, she yanked on my arm and got me to bend down, pecked me on the cheek and whispered in my ear.
"You know anywhere around here where we can be alone for a bit?"
Now, at a comic book convention there is a lot of space, NOT a lot of privacy, but I did have an idea.
"Follow me."
I turned and walked us away from the exhibit hall and past the panel rooms to the very end of the wing of the convention center. We came to the very last set of restrooms, and as I had hoped, we were well away from the beaten path of anyone who would be in attendance today. The other thing I had banked on being here was as well...a family restroom alongside ones designated for men and women. I opened the door for her and she walked in front of me, I glanced back and saw that there was not a soul to be seen anywhere, and ducked into the restroom, closing and locking the door behind me. When I turned back around, Ginger leapt into my arms once again, but this time I was ready for her. I had my camera slung behind me, and as she collided into me this time she wrapped both her arms AND her legs around me. I unhooked my camera and set it down safely on the sink. She clung to me like a koala and kissed me as I took off my blazer and hung it on the handy hook on the back of the door. Ginger was still holding on strong, her legs hooked around my waist, our lips and tongues wrestling like the winner gets to have dinner with the Tenth Doctor.
I carried her over to the sink and set her down on the counter, reached around behind her to unzip her dress and while I was back there I went ahead and unclasped her black strapless bra. She pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the ground in a way that made me somewhat cringe on the inside as my nice shirt hit the bathroom floor. But hey, I wasn't about to stop the intense makeout session and what I was pretty sure was to follow to pick up my shirt. Ginger pulled her arms free of her dress and set her bra by the sink, giving me my first ever look at her breasts. They were a perfect handful for a guy like me with larger than average hands, still full and perky even as we were both in our late thirties. The benefits of a petite form, I guess. Her nipples were a rose pink and about quarter sized, with nips like pencil erasers. I wasted no time in getting one of them in my mouth and giving it a good sucking, swirling my tongue over first one, then I made sure the other didn't feel left out.
