"It was the perfect crime," Harry imagined hearing as he sat on the carpeted floor in a partially concealed corner of an unused gate in a declining regional airport. He pictured the report on the blank TV screen as the imaginary reporter discussed the crime. Harry paused, wondering if it really was a crime, but spying an attractive woman bending over her carry-on bag, completely unaware of what she was showing him, he decided, "Yes, it was a truly heinous crime."
The weather outside aided him in his crime as the long overcoat he folded casually over his lap covered all but the most intense of actions beneath. Remembering how the many reporters on TV recommended that travelers be well prepared for their trip, Harry smiled, running through his check list. 1.) Overcoat, 2.) Pants with an elastic waistband, 3.) No underwear and 4.) Tissue or toilet paper. Yes, he was well prepared.
Of course he also made sure he had his glasses, along with something to keep them sufficiently clean. From there, he could simply relax and watch the nearly infinite variation of the female form do the most interesting things for his pleasure. It was amazing where these women could take Harry and his imagination.
The woman grabbing a bottle of water from her carry on bag was suddenly taken from behind as he tossed her skirt up over her hips, pulled her panties to one side and pressed his cock to her soft lips. She'd moan a bit as he pressed into her, but after a few quick half-penetrations, he'd be fully lubed with her juices and shove himself deep inside her. She would be quick, they always were quick when presented with something so unexpected and yet so wonderful.
He could look down, peeking down between the soft round globes of her ass, over the tightly puckered hole down to the soft hairy lips that pursed out as he withdrew and opened so eagerly to his thrusts. His cock glistened as she began shoving herself back onto him, taking him as deeply as he could give it to her until she would groan loudly and come. The wonderful pulsations he felt as her pussy contracted around him was all the thanks he needed as he'd then slip back to the empty gate and his private corner.
If he paced himself properly, he could take four or five women in an hour, carefully conserving his energy so he could spread his gift around. Like the large breasted woman with the too short skirt loudly clicking her high heels as she feels herself undressed by the married man completely ignoring his wife's conversation. Harry could follow that one by sound along, her heels clicking first on the terrazzo walkways onto the damp ceramic tiles in the ladies room.