A Flight of Fancy

This is my first submission. It was originally written in 1992 and has remained awaiting my courage to submit. It is entirely fidcitious. I am myself a blind person.

(An unsatisfactory conference ends in

Unexpected mutual fulfilment)

Robert had not had a particularly good trip. The Miami World Trade and convention centre and the Parklands Hotel was about all he had managed to take in of Florida during his 5-day "trip of a life-time" conference.

Perhaps he had been over-sensitised to his blindness during those five days, so that the aggravation he had experienced at the airport check-in, when his luggage had been publicly and humiliatingly disembowelled and not too carefully reconstructed, and when he had been instructed (very caringly) to board the 747 400 in advance of everyone else "so that he would not inconvenience other passengers", he had been thrown him into a state of defiant remorse.

He arrived characteristically "in plenty of time" to check his luggage in, but now found himself hot, (it was 35 degrees C and still only 4 pm), angry, and swamped in spare time as there were still 2 hours before he had to make his way to gate 24, or report to the Customer Services Desk to board his flight. He was parched, flustered, and determined not to submit to the suffocating envelope of American "you're welcome" airport entrapment system, specifically designed to make sure that the airline discharged its carrier responsibilities regardless of the climate, his demeanour, or his thirst.

Robert strode out into empty space listening hard for signs of errant cash tills which might indicate the proximity of a bar. Feeling a real sense of freedom from his lumbering luggage, he allowed his white cane its head, and swept confidently towards the sound of a faintly grinding till roll printer which struggled to cut through a background of vaguely animated voices. This must be the bar, he surmised (wrongly).

He felt a moderate tap on his left elbow.

"Excuse me sir," sung a confident but somehow gentle young female voice, "I just wondered whether you really wanted to be headed towards the lingerie counter!"

Such an idea had never occurred to him, since he had no current attachment in London, and would not in any case have had the nerve or confidence to fathom these insecure depths even if he had.

Robert stopped, turned, and addressed his timely saviour.

"Oh, thanks a lot," he said appreciatively, "I was trying to find the bar actually, but it seems I was about to enter a very different kind of pleasure zone!"

His new young companion laughed quietly, and asked him whether he would like her to show him to the bar, or whether he would rather make his own way there. She said that she could give him directions as it was not far away, and was on the level they were both on at the moment.

The Disabled World Convention had been very difficult for Robert. His delegation had proved much less comradely than he had hoped, and the others had also decided to stay on and take in a bit of Florida's sunny promise before returning to London in unpredictable September. The prospect of the solo journey, whilst not having been welcomed, did add an air of adventure to his otherwise anti-climactic trip. Robert had only been abroad once before - to Spain, with 2 of his friends - and, apart from a somewhat rocky villa romance, he had not found that foreign travel met up to its romantic expectations. This had also been true of his current excursion. Girls, whether disabled or not, had not seemed to come his way, though whether this was because he had been so busy trying to keep up with the conference programme, and too drunk afterwards to think about anything else, let alone do anything else, was a matter which he had decided to think about later, in the comfort of his housing association flat in Harrow, (or that's what he told people about Kensal Rise when he wanted to impress them). Thin King about the lack of contact with girls pulled him up sharp. He realised that he had not responded to this current offer of assistance from what sounded like a very attractive girl! What was he playing at!

"Thank you very much," he said in his most calm and refined English accent, "though I can manage perfectly well myself, I would very much appreciate some help finding the bar. Airports are not the easiest places to negotiate at the best of times, and this is not the best of times by a long chalk!"

Debbie led him confidently down the centre of the concourse, carefully but unobtrusively avoiding people, cases, trolleys and airport buggies on the way. She brought him to the bar entrance, and asked politely if he wanted to be guided to the bar, or whether he would prefer to be taken to a seat. She said she would be happy to get his order for him.

Robert was impressed. This person, who seemed very young but very confident, had obviously done this before.

"I think it might be easier for us both if you could take me to a seat, and perhaps you could get the people here to come and serve me".

Debbie felt vaguely hurt, though she could not understand why. Was he saying that he did not want her to have any further contact with him after having delivered him to a seating area and contacted the bar tender? This she new was perfectly fine; she had been careful to ensure that he remained in control, as she had been trained in preparation for the Congress, and yet somehow she felt rejected by him.

"Oh, please, I am more than happy to get your order for you," she replied, knowing this was both unnecessary, and probably unprofessional, "and, if you don't have any objection, I would like to share your table, as I have nearly 2 hours before my flight call".

She took his hand firmly, and placed it on the back of the chair which she had selected for him to sit upon. He noticed for the first time that he was not just o.k. about being helped by Debbie, but that there was something about her firm confident approach to him which he found definitely attractive. He took perhaps just a little longer than he might to secure his grip on the seat back, maintaining contact with her hand for as long as possible. He realised afterwards that this was not so much conscious but rather subliminal opportunism. Why foreshorten something nice if you don't have too.

Debbie was equally mildly excited about this contact with this Englishman. His hand was somehow friendly, and she too felt that she was not in a hurry to release it. However, the moment passed, and she watched him sit down and locate himself in relation to the table at which they would both sit.

"Now, what can I order for you?" she said quietly.

"Oh, I think I'll just have a cold beer," he said, being suddenly aware of how even the air conditioning in Miami Airport was not really coping with the humidity and the heat of the Florida late summer afternoon. He removed his light cotton jacket, and she went behind him and asked him if she could assist by putting it on the back of his chair. Normally, he would have politely refused such an offer, but he found himself acquiescing graciously. She was standing to his right, and leaning forward to position the garment on the back of his chair. Robert reach into his right-hand trousers pocket for his wallet, and as he brought his hand up, it brushed what was unmistakably bare skin. He apologised with some mild embarrassment, realising that this girl must be dressed very much for the summer. She was in fact wearing a halter-knocked mini-dress, which exposed her back to her waist, and which also left a large proportion of her midriff open to public (if not Robert's) view. This he was not to ascertain until later that day.

Debbie thought NOTHING of this incident, being too busy watching him fumble with notes of indeterminate value.

"Can I help you find what bills you require," she asked, thinking by now that the answer would be yes. She located a ten dollar bill, gave him back his wallet, and then waited for him to ask her what DRINKS HE wanted. He was distracted by the fleeting flesh he had just encountered, but realised that she was waiting for something, and remembered what he should be doing.

"Oh, sorry, what would you like yourself?"

"Thank you," she said with somewhat false but not obvious gratitude, "I'll just have a Coke. I have a long journey ahead of me, and I don't want to get dehydrated! I'll be right back."

She was no more than 2 minutes, during which time Robert had the opportunity to muse that this was turning into an extremely enjoyable interlude. It occurred to him to wonder where she was going - she had mentioned having to wait around for 2 hours, like him, for a flight to be called. She seemed remarkably familiar with the ways of leading a blind person and he wondered whether this might be because she had blindness in her family. It also occurred to him to reflect upon how exciting he found her presence. It was as well not to dwell upon such matters, he warned himself, as nothing ever came of it, and you only ever ended up disappointed.

When Debbie arrived back, she placed the drinks on the marble table-top, sat down, and, taking his hand very naturally and confidently, placed it first on the glass and then adjacent to the bottle, helping him to make just the right level of contact with the cold wetness of the chilled bottle.

"Do you prefer to pour your own beer?" she asked.

He said that he did and thanked her for her thoughtfulness. The conversation faltered a bit as they poured and drank. Robert realised at precisely the same time as Debbie why this was. They both started to speak at the same time, and there was an embarrassed silence, for the first time in their brief relationship.

"No do go on, please!" said Robert rather breathlessly.

"I was just thinking that I haven't gotten round to finding out your name!"

"Oh, it's Robert, Robert Hansham (with 2 aitches!!!" he quipped.

"My name is Debbie - I was christened Debbie - Debbie Sonabach (with no t)!!"

This straight hit appealed to Robert. He liked women who gave as good as they got. Humour was important to him, and the fact that she had chosen to interact like this caused the thought to flicker across his mind that she was flirting with him, perhaps just a little, but definitely a possibility.

"What flight are you catching?" he asked, continuing the polite formalities.

"The same one as you, BA 294 to London."

This caused Robert's excitement level to rise considerably, as he now felt certain that they would get a chance to speak further on the plane. This would help to while away part of the 9 hour journey, he thought. Debbie caught the unintended smile on his face, and flushed slightly, as she had been thinking the same thing, but almost without realising it.

There conversation then took a slightly more personal turn. She asked somewhat apologetically whether he had been at the disabled person's convention, realising that this was both an obvious question, and one which must stand a chance of being unwelcome. He said that he had, and had the answer to a previous thought query about her facilitating competence answered, when she offered that she had been recruited as a Volunteer there, and was sure she had seen him around, but had not actually met him. So that's where she learned her skills. She told him about their preparation and training, and before long, they had been sitting there an hour, and she had returned his drink purchase.

When Debbie returned with the second round of drinks, she made a surprising decision. She sat on the bench seat next to him, rather than opposite him as she had originally. As she arrived, she noticed that he was crouched between the table and the floor, searching for something on the floor.

"Have you lost something, Robert?" she asked, sitting down having placed the drinks on the table.

"I knocked my cane on to the floor, but I have found it now, thanks," he replied from the depth beneath the table. He reached up and put the cane on the table. He then put his left hand where he expected the bench to be in order to lever himself up and return to his seat. Instead of the bench seat, his wide-opened hand descended firmly on to the inside of her right thigh, about 4 inches above her knee. The contact with her bare skin both shocked and embarrassed him and he rapidly withdrew it. This unbalanced him, and he lurched forward, this time his other hand flailing wildly to retain his balance. It finally came to rest further up her leg, under the hem of her extremely short mini-dress. DEBBIE flinched slightly, and instinctively closed her legs, which had previously been slightly spread both out of the need to ventilate herself and because she felt relaxed about her posture because her companion could not see its effects.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said, finally giving up and pressing hard down to regain his vertical position. His hand withdrew, she helped him up, and flushed his trousers legs down to remove the dust from the floor. She had done this without thinking, and, as he sat down, she took hold of his hand comfortingly.

Robert was acutely embarrassed, and apologised profusely. But all the time he was evaluated what he had discovered. This girl was wearing a very short skirt of some kind. She had bare legs, a bare midriff and was still talking to him despite his foolish blind error. Oh well, he would just have to make the best of it.

"Dear me," he said blusteringly, "I don't know quite what to say to you, Debbie! I hope you weren't too outraged or offended. You have been very kind to me, and I would not want to have upset you!"

Debbie, who had not been "upset" at all, was quietly contemplating the last 15 seconds, wondering whether he had been deliberately unstable. She decided that he had not, and that she could forgive his sudden assault on her legs as long as he did it properly next time. But how to engineer the next time?

Robert was sitting close to her now, and could feel the warmth of her sun-burned arms the body next to more. She moved her left thigh next to his. She took his hand firmly, squeezed it, and placed it gently on the top of her right thigh, just below the hemline of her dress. He found his fingers quietly exploring her warm skin, and attempting to creep under her light cotton dress.

"Hey, woh there, not here!" she said, surprisingly loudly and familiarly. "I find you very attractive, but can you just wait till their isn't a problem about the world seeing you explore me!"

Robert let the hem of her dress fall behind his retreating hand, but stopped his retreat a good 5 inches above her knee, bringing his hand to rest on her naked thigh.

"Have you been sun-bathing recently?" he enquired.

"Why yes" she replied, "how can you tell?"

"Oh, it's just that your skin is very warm to the touch, and I thought that must be the reason."

Debbie did not make any attempt to remove his hand from her leg, even though it was clearly publicly visible. She was enjoying the flirtatious intimacy of this interlude. She knew full well that she was by any standards an attractive girl. She was just a bit taller than Robert, standing about 5 feet 9 in her bare feet. She was slender, had long blonde hair nearly down to her waist, and she had, as she had often been told both formally and informally, a pair of beautiful long and extremely shapely tanned legs, tanned all the way up. She could easily carry off wearing the kind of extremely short dress which she was wearing today. When travelling, having excess clothing could be very uncomfortable, and, in the privacy of won's own airplane seat, it was nice to be able to spread out a bit and let the air ventilate.

She found herself thinking again about Robert and his firm hand, now gently stroking its way round to the smooth inside of her left lower thigh.

She decided that, much as she was enjoying this flirtation, it would much better be postponed; but she couldn't work out how to curtail it without causing him embarrassment or offence. She shifted her position slightly, causing his hand to slip down between her legs. She had hoped this would be enough to get him to withdraw, but his hand just rested where it fell, with his palm firmly caressing her left inside thigh and now the back of his hand brushing her other inside leg. She gently closed her legs, squeezing his hand seductively, but indicating she wanted a halt.

"You're right, Debbie, this won't really do, will it!" he said, reluctantly removing his hand. He put his arm round her shoulder and squeezed her gently.

The rest of the wait was uneventful. Debbie helped him through passport control, and down through the gantry tube on to the aircraft, which was even more hot and steamy than had been the airport terminal. The stewardess, assuming they were travelling together, altered Debbie's seat number without asking her. She did not object. They sat together in a window block, and Debbie noticed with some unconscious glee that there was no one behind them, and that no one was allocated in the seat next to them. She found herself thinking with some warm anticipation about the journey ahead.

Getting onto the plane and getting seated was normally a tiring and fractious process. Debbie's training, inherent skill, and increasingly self-evident wish to get things right as far as her new-found companion was concerned, however, made things go very smoothly. She was a fairly experienced flyer, at least internally, but, to advance the sense of heightened occasion, she decided to over-emphasise her nervousness about the take-off procedure. When the stewardess was explaining the safety procedures she offered to help Robert by showing him how the life-jacket fitted. This gave her ample opportunity to allow him to understand the anatomy of her somewhat informal dress, at least above the waist. Whilst showing him the whistle position, she allowed his hand to find her bare ribs, and while locating the air canister, his hand was guided via the upper reaches of the outside of her extensively bare leg. This told Robert a great deal more about just how short her dress was, and just how revealing her top was. He accepted this information calmly, since he knew that British Airways hawk-eyes were everywhere.

Eventually, the plane lumbered out onto the taxi-way, and rolled towards the end of the runway from which it would take off. She reached for his hand, and, without apparent thought, placed it and her own hand tightly inter-twined, between her knees. He was delighted!

For her part, Debbie continued to be strangely delighted by every physical contact she had with Robert. She found herself engineering the odd touch, and she soon learned that, probably for reasons of sly access rather than any particular fetish, he was apparently fascinated by her legs. She could have sat a seat away from him - there were 3 in the row, and the arms could be kept down to avoid unwanted contact - but instead, she found herself generating situations where physical contact, plausible accidental contact, was facilitated.

Once airborne, the first 2 drinks came and went. They both drank gin and tonic, which had an immediate exhilarating effect. They fell to giggling at each other's informal banter, and permitting themselves the odd squeeze every now and again when something could be defended as particularly funny.

After the meal, which Robert managed adequately if somewhat without over-all dignity, she announced that she wanted a brandy and a coffee, after which she would like to sleep. She could easily have gone behind him to sleep on the empty row of seats behind, a fact which had been drawn to his attention by the cabin crew, but instead, she asked childishly whether he would mind if she put her legs up across him. Robert could not at first believe what he was hearing.