You sit near the entrance of your gate. Your flight is delayed another two hours. You read your watch. 8:00. You stare out the window for a brief moment. You scan the faces of the people near you. A mother and her daughter whisper in Spanish. They smile at each other and laugh quietly. An old woman sleeps three seats down from you. From where you are you can hear her snoring softly. Then there is the man across from you. His beard is thick, his hair tucked behind his ears. He's sitting like most men do. Not quite a leg cross, some half-assed in between where his ankle rest on top of his opposite knee. He's reading a book you saw displayed in the airport convenience store. You didn't realize people actually bought books here. While you're staring at him you realize how broad his chest is. It's defined underneath his button up shirt. You also realize that he's noticed you staring. You look away quickly and focus on something else.
You watch the snow out the window. Over the speakers they're playing "There's No Place Like Home". You think that's funny. It's funny because you realize you don't have a "home". You have an apartment on the wrong side of town. Which is fine, you suppose. But occasionally, it's lonely. And frequently, it's far too cold. In the reflection of the glass you see the man is staring at you now. You turn to him and he glances you up and down before he looks away. You don't question it any further.
It has now been half an hour. Every now and then you think about the man across from you. You think of yourself kneeled in front of him, mouth agape, his hard member on your lips. You think of him slowly entering your ready mouth and his dark eyes meeting yours like they are now. You think of swallowing what he releases in you and him catching what spills from your lips with his thumb and putting it on your tongue. Then you stop, embarrassed at what you've constructed in your mind. It continues on like this. The next time you think of him, he's standing in front of you, he's kissing down your neck and his hands are at the waist of your pants. Then he pulls them down past your hips. His fingers are rubbing you through your underwear. You're sighing in his ear and you're already wet... Soon his hand is inside your panties. Rubbing your clitoris. He says he wants to hear you. You call him Daddy. You stop your thoughts from going further then you notice he's looking at you again.
"What do you think?" His sonorous voice catches you off guard.
"I'm sorry?"
"I was just saying I don't think we'll get out of here before 11." You look out the window again before nodding. You clear your throat.
"So where are you going?"
"Business conference. And you?"
You tell him you're going home even though it feels like you're lying.
"Where you coming from?"
"Funeral."
"Sorry to hear that."
"It's fine, it was my great aunt. We haven't talked in years." He nods. There's a pause in conversation. You continue to watch the snow.
"If you don't mind me asking... How old are you?"
"22. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious I suppose..." You raise an eyebrow.
"How about yourself?"
"Pardon?"
"How old are you?"
"Right. I'm somewhere between 18 and 80" You laugh.
"Seriously how old are you?"
"43 as of last week." You smile at him.
The conversation continues. You learn he's the head of a marketing team for a paper company. You tell him you just started working at local elementary school.
"How do you like it so far?" You laugh a little.
"Well one kid wet themselves the first day and another kid started crying before I could even say hello. So I'd say splendid." He laughs with you.
"Sounds a lot more interesting than what I'm doing right now."
"How'd you end up there?"
"Needed the money."
"Right."
Eventually it comes time to board and your conversation ends. He disappears with the first class passengers and you load in after with economy. You find your seat and in some time the plane is in the air. You watch the clouds as you move.
After the seatbelt light is off you decide to go to the bathroom. As you're washing your hands you hear a knock on the door.
