A Red Eye Flight For The Ages

'Sometimes that can be the most frustrating experience,' I grumbled to myself as I sat on the cold gray-painted steel bench tying my shoelaces just beyond the TSA check-in line At Dulles Airport.

Trying to get to a flight on time has always been a challenge for me as I often push the limits on arriving at the airport as late as possible. The reason for this is because I'm not a fan of airports. I believe they are a necessary evil, but that doesn't make me enjoy them. Honestly, I don't care for traveling much at all for any reason, but my job requires me to travel from my home outside Baltimore to Los Angeles a few times a year to "check in" at headquarters. Outside of these trips I work from home and don't have a lot of motivation to travel anywhere for anything.

Having made this trip several times over the last year, I started getting smarter after learning the hard way -- I enjoy sipping on a good caramel latte to relax while I sit in my seat in the waiting area, so I order ahead on my mobile app to have it ready when I arrive near my gate, saving me from having to stand in a long line. This trip was no different, but as I hurriedly approached the counter and grabbed my cup off the mobile order shelf, I turned and ran directly into a woman who was reaching for her cup as I attempted to exit. We surprised each other and some of my coffee splashed onto my black t-shirt.

"I am so sorry" were the first words out of my mouth as I stumbled backward in a vain attempt to protect my hot drink. In an instant she realized the coffee splashed across my shirt and began to apologize profusely.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so clumsy. Here, let me get you a napkin," she replied. It was obvious she was embarrassed and genuinely apologetic.

She grabbed a wad of napkins off the shelf nearby and began pressing them against my chest in a vain attempt to dry the spill, which had already soaked into the cotton. Since the shirt was black, no harm was done that concerned me, but I did find humor in this woman, whom I had never met, patting my chest and apologizing repeatedly.

After I gathered my thoughts, I told her it was not a problem, and I appreciated her help. That is when she looked up at me and left me momentarily speechless. She had beautiful dirty blonde hair that was in long, wavy curls, which appeared to be natural. I estimated she was likely a few years younger than me with an attractive figure and a bright smile. However, it was her eyes that pulled me in. They were a light blue color that were mesmerizing to gaze into. I had no idea whether they were her real color eyes or contacts, but regardless, it was hard not to stare.

She finally stopped patting me when she realized she wasn't helping and smiled with rosy cheeks, evidently embarrassed by our collision. I must have been at least six inches taller than her, so she looked up at me and said, "I didn't even see you there. I really am sorry. Can I buy you another one?" I could tell the offer was genuine.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm good," I replied.

Man, her eyes were so pretty. I couldn't stop staring.

"I feel terrible, are you sure I can't pay you back?"

"Your very kind, but I really am fine," I said, as I began to walk away. "I hope you have a great trip," I said as I turned to look for a seat nearby.

"You too," she said as she beamed me one more smile before I went to sit at my gate.

About 10 minutes later I saw her enter my gate area and realized we were going to be on the same flight. She did not see me sitting in the corner, but I watched her for a few minutes longer. For some reason, it has always been a pastime of mine -- people watching at the airport. Seeing people from all over the country who are gathered for just a few minutes of their lives intrigues me. I often make up stories in my mind about some of them -- that one is running from the law, that couple is on their honeymoon, that man is on his way to visit his grandkids. It probably sounds strange, but it helps me pass the time.

However, on this occasion the 'napkin woman' had my attention. I watched as she searched for a seat in the semi-crowded waiting area in the Dulles airport concourse. As she sat down, she pulled out her phone and seemed to begin scrolling, most likely through her social media, smiling occasionally, at something she apparently saw or read. Her smile was contagious as I watched her react to what she was watching. She kept tucking her beautiful locks of hair behind her ear to keep it out of her face. As a single man, I also observed no wedding ring on her finger. Her body was by no means perfect. She was somewhat curvy in her hips, her breasts were larger than you might typically see, but she clearly took good care of herself, and her clothing style, makeup, and jewelry communicated that she cared about how she presented herself to the world. However, as I watched her, it always came back to the eyes. They were stunning.

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't watch people with the intention of judging their looks. Lord knows I'm not "all-that." While I don't think I look too bad, I could certainly stand to lose a few extra pounds that I've put on in the last couple of years and my exercise routine has also diminished during that time as well. My daughters tell me I still look pretty good, but that's what they are supposed to say. I don't have any misperceptions of myself. I'm an average looking guy and don't expect any more from those around me. If I saw a supermodel, I might be impressed, but she wouldn't even notice me!

Finally, the attendant at the counter announced over the speaker that it was time to board. It wasn't a full flight, so that was good. This first leg to Dallas was about a 3-hour flight and then onto LAX. So, to have a little room to spread out was a blessing in disguise, which I hoped I would be lucky enough to enjoy. I saw my mystery friend get in line about 10 people ahead of me as we entered the warm tunnel dominated by the scent of jet fuel. After a few minutes of the "cattle call" of boarding, I finally arrived at my seat toward the back of the plane only to discover I was separated by the mystery woman by one chair. As she looked up, she shot me a huge smile and laughed as she realized were in the same row. My "A" seat was near the window, and she was in the "C" aisle seat. As the doors closed, we realized there was no one across the aisle from us, no one behind us for the last three rows and no one within two rows ahead of us. It felt as if we were alone in our private space, which almost never happens. I guess that's one of the potential perks of a red-eye flight.

She stood aside to let me in and once we were settled, she reached over and offered me her hand.

"I guess we should meet properly. My name is Janelle, but my friends call me Jay," she said as I shook her warm hand.

"I'm Mike. Nice to meet you 'officially' Jay."

"Where are you from and where are you headed, Mike?"

"I live here in the area, but I'm on my way to Los Angeles on business. How about you?"

"I live nearby as well, but my daughter is graduating this coming weekend from college in Boulder, so I'm flying to Denver on my way to see her and celebrate."

"That's fantastic. Congratulations to you both," I said.

"Thanks. Do you have kids?" She asked.

"Yeah, I have two daughters. The oldest is working in Charlotte and my youngest graduated last year and recently took her first job in Pittsburgh. I don't get to see them often, but I'm happy for them as they get their lives started."

"You don't look old enough to have adult daughters," she kindly said, whether she meant it or not.

I smiled sheepishly at her compliment and said, "you're very kind." I thought the same thing about her but felt silly to give the same compliment back, so I refrained.

We spent the next few minutes talking about our daughters - what they were doing and where they were living. We were both clearly proud of them as we pulled up a few photos. By the time we finally taxied and lifted off, our friendly conversation turned to whether we had spouses.

"Tell me about your wife?" Jay asked.

That was a tough question for me and as I paused, Jay noticed instantly.

"I'm sorry. Was that an inappropriate question?" With a hint of confusion, I could tell she regretted asking.

"No, it's fine. It's just not something I talk about much. After 26 years as of marriage, my wife became ill and following a 6-month battle, she passed away nearly two years ago. I don't mind your asking, I'm just not used to telling that story, so I needed a moment to gather myself. I appreciate your asking me. It's actually a bit therapeutic to say the words."

"I am so sorry to hear of your loss," Jay said empathetically. Her eyes glassed over as well as she listened to me share. It was obvious she meant what she said. "That must have been incredibly difficult. What's her name?"

Again, I had to catch my breath as emotion swelled up within me. I realized at that moment, I couldn't recall the last time I said her name out loud, and I was grateful that Jay referred to her in the present tense rather than the past tense.

"Deb," I shared with a lump in my throat.

"I bet she was wonderful. I know you must miss her." Then Jay surprised me with a question that no one has asked since the day she passed, or ever for that matter.

"So, tell me the one thing you loved about Deb above all else."

I was stunned by her question. My eyes began to glass over further as I contemplated my best answer. Finally, it came to me, and I said, "It was her touch. No matter what was happening, good or bad, her hand would fall on my shoulder or reach for my hand or just run through my hair, whether to comfort me or encourage me. I miss her touch the most." Wow, I didn't expect to say that to this woman I just met 30 minutes before, but it was the truth. I really missed her touch.

"I love that, Mike. I expected you to say something like how she did your laundry or made your dinner, or even how much you missed the sex," she said as she began chuckling. A big smile spread across my face as I realized that might have been a better answer.

"Well, those were good too, but not the 'one thing.'" I replied as I smiled back. She made talking about my wife as easy as anyone had before. I was grateful for her conversation. This woman was beautiful. And, she seemed to have a way of making you feel like you were new best friends, even having just met. She was very disarming and genuinely pretty. I knew I was going to enjoy this flight.

Turning the tables, I asked, "Tell me your story, Jay. I don't see a ring. Are you married?"

"I've been divorced for about two years now. My husband cheated on me after 25 years of marriage with my best friend. There was no rescuing our relationship after that." She grew quieter as she shared her somber story, but I could also hear a confidence that must have grown out of the tragic end to their marriage. It appeared to me that she had found some level of joy again since those dark days. I was happy for her, and I also wondered how this woman hadn't found a new relationship yet. She's beautiful and charming. I imagined the guys on the dating apps were contacting her constantly.

"No one in your life since then?" I asked. I wondered if my questions were becoming a little too invasive, but I was genuinely interested in my new friend.

"Nope. It took me a year to be able to function like a woman again. The last nine months have been a healing journey for me and I'm finally happy where I am. Don't get me wrong, a good man in my life would be great, but I'm content right now on my own as well."

"I respect that, Jay. Since Deb passed, I've been focusing on my daughters and my career. I haven't taken much time for myself. Finding a relationship with a woman seems daunting," I replied.

"Don't even get me started," she said as her eyes rolled and hands flew in the air. "I tried a dating app a few months ago. I went on two dates and found it very difficult. I hadn't been on a real date in over 25 years, so I was struggling to remember how to do it. Let's just say it didn't go well, so I gave up."

"Yeah, I tried a few months back for the first time in decades and found it to be boring, truth be told. The couple of dates I went on were the exact same conversation each time. 'Tell me about this, what do you think about that.' It just was too much effort, so I stopped."

"I get it." She replied.

Jay and I spent the next 20 minutes talking about what we liked in our marriages and didn't like. It appeared to be a bit therapeutic for her too. After chatting for a few minutes Jay called for the flight attendant and asked for a blanket and pillow. The lights were off in the cabin as most travelers were sleeping by now with about an hour and a half remaining in the first leg of our trip. We were sitting near the plane engine, and it was kind of loud and challenging to talk over so she asked if she could move to the middle seat next to me as we shared more photos. She showed more pictures of her pets and daughter and asked to see pictures of Deb. It was hard for me to share those with her, but I discovered how much I enjoyed telling the circumstances behind some of them.

Having this woman next to me was a fresh experience. I wasn't used to invading another woman's personal space in this way. We were leaning into each other as we talked to be heard by each other and no one else and to see the phone screen of the other. Our shoulders were touching as she leaned her head against her pillow with her legs under the blanket. Our forearms would brush against each other as we moved in our seats. I enjoyed the innocent touches while forcing myself not to think too much of them.

After a few more minutes Jay surprised me by reaching down to set her hand on my knee. I didn't want to pull away, but I also didn't want to do anything to offend her.

"Do you mind?" She asked me nervously. I could tell she was fearful that she had perhaps misread the signals I was apparently giving off.

"I don't. I actually enjoy your touch." I said honestly.

"Based on what you've told me, I thought that might be the case," she said as she looked me in the eye, smiled, and squeezed my knee. I was quickly becoming overwhelmed by the moment, but with so little experience, I frankly had no idea what to do next.

I decided to try and keep the conversation on point - "What do you miss most about marriage? Not YOUR marriage in particular, but just in the marriage relationship," I asked.

"Can I be honest, Mike?"

I nodded.

"Please don't think poorly of me, but I genuinely miss the sex. I think we had a rather good sex life in our marriage. While there are other things I can probably think of, honestly that is the biggest. I haven't been with a man in two years. That's tough for me, but I don't just want to swipe on my phone and sleep with a guy. That's just not who I am. I hope that isn't saying too much."

"No, it's definitely not saying too much. I get it. I miss it too. Most of the time I push it out of my thoughts as I try to focus on my daughters and my work, but I miss it too."

We were both silent for a moment as we let that revelation sink in. Then, I noticed that she began to subtly slide her hand up and down my thigh. Nothing was said, but she was clearly increasing her contact. With her legs were covered by the blanket, I managed to dig deep for some self-confidence, took a deep breath, and slithered my right hand under the blanket and laid it on her left knee. Her non-response to my action told me she was comfortable with what I did. Slowly I began rubbing up and down her thigh in the same manner she was stroking mine. We continued like this for a while as we continued to talk.

As she increasingly touched me and her hand slid further up my thigh, coming closer to my groin with each movement, my dick began to swell inside my shorts. I haven't worn underwear as long as I can remember, so there wasn't much between her hand and my crotch. My member was snaking inside my shorts as the blood rushed in, which she surely must have noticed. I was a little embarrassed by my response to her, but there was no stopping my reaction. As my hand brushed across her bare leg below the hem of her shorts, I noticed her beginning to fidget in her seat. I assumed that was due to feeling the same thing I was feeling as we tested each other's boundaries.

I wanted to touch her more intimately, but I had no idea how to proceed nor what to do next. It had been so long since I had been with a woman that didn't know me in every way possible. Deb and I had been together for so long, we knew what each was thinking simply by the brush of a hand or a raised eyebrow. This night was completely different. I was going down a new path with a woman I barely knew and experiencing erotic emotions that had been buried for decades. And, admittedly, I also didn't want to us to be caught in our compromising position by a flight attendant. While I had no idea what the consequences of getting caught would have been, I assume it wouldn't have been good.

I think she sensed my hesitation, so she leaned forward and tilted her head in such a way to gaze straight at me. Her blue eyes were intoxicating as she unexpectedly removed her left hand from my leg, stretched the blanket over both of our laps, reached down and gently grabbed the back of my right hand that had been caressing her leg beneath the scratchy cotton covering. Based on her invisible actions, I assumed she was using her right hand to pull her shorts to the side, exposing her pussy to my touch. Then she gently took my hand in hers and guided it to her snatch. She looked me in the eye as we both nodded with understanding and permission to proceed.

I couldn't believe this was happening. The heat that emanated from her pussy felt like a furnace. As I brushed against her labia, I immediately noticed just how wet and hairless she felt. Jay was on fire and clearly wanted this as much as I did. My cock was throbbing inches away from her hand that had returned to my thigh as I rubbed my fingers around her labia trying to imagine what it looked like, since I was unable to see it beneath the flimsy cover. Her female folds felt large and soaked. Copious amounts of her feminine juices were running between her legs and into the crack of her ass as I slid my fingers up and down her opening. I searched briefly for her clit and was rewarded as I touched her protruding nub. Her breath caught when I found it. Her body stiffened as she leaned into me to whisper near my ear, "It's been a long time since I've been touched like that by a man."

"You feel incredible," was my only response.

"I tend to get a little carried away when I have rub one out myself, so I'll have to try hard to keep my utterances under control," she said as she chuckled in the most sensual way possible.

My cock was desperate for release beneath my shorts as I continued to explore Jay's mound. I finally decided to let her know I was ready for more as well. So, I took my free hand, clumsily undid my belt buckle and unsnapped the top button without ever removing my other hand from her warm quiver. As best I could manage, I pulled my zipper down and began pushing my shorts over my hips. After several awkward gyrations in my seat, my shorts hit the airplane floor. My belt buckle clanged as it landed.

At this point the air felt cool on my now free cock beneath the shared blanket. This is the moment I had hoped for as Jay slowly dragged her nails up my leg until she reached and cupped my hot ball sack in her palm. She played with it for a minute before she let it go and reached further up for my pole. I was overwhelmed by her touch as my shaft lurched at the feel of a woman's touch, being only the second woman in nearly 30 years to fondle me in this way. A woman, only an hour before I had never even known. Now, here I was having every man's fantasy fulfilled.