Spicy...
Unlike many people who get very stressed about travel, I have a somewhat philosophical attitude. Generally the type of travel that I do doesn't involve crawling under barbed wire, having to bribe officials, or having anyone shoot at me. And so I treat delays as minor inconveniences at worst, and opportunities for engaging with people I otherwise wouldn't at best. So an unanticipated overnight stay in a Heathrow hotel due to a cancelled flight, along with a whole lot of other stranded passengers, has left me sitting at the bar, wondering what the night has in store for me. Nursing my Shiraz, I notice two spectacular women of around my age enter the bar, take a seat just a few stools over from me, and order a couple of cocktails. I listen in to their voices, and they sound very exotic - they speak flawless but accented English to each other, one sounds Russian or east European and the other vaguely Spanish - hard to tell. They look like a pair of co-workers, dressed in smart business attire, off on a work trip somewhere - until I hear one of them wish the other "Happy Birthday", and refer to her colleague as "My love". I smile at my own presumptions, dismiss a tiny pang of disappointment - they are both gorgeous, in very different ways, and I would have relished the thought of a night with either of them - but then decide "in with a penny, in with a pound" as the Brits say - an evening with a couple of exotic lesbians is going to be far more interesting than anything else this bar has to offer, from the morose barman to the couple of other sole businessmen on stools, and the family of four in the corner. That's assuming they are interested in company - to them, I may look just as boring as the other people in the room that I assume are boring. Especially since this appears to be a special night for them. But what the hell, the worst that can happen is a shrug-off.
So I turn to the birthday girl and say, "Do you mind if I raise a glass to your birthday too?". She turns to me and does a well suppressed double take. I frown slightly - does she know me? Do I look like someone she knows? No idea. She turns back to her partner, they exchange a glance I don't catch - was it "Get rid of this loser", or something different? But she turns back to me and smiles, and introduces herself as Veronique, and her partner as Olga. And yes, their plane was delayed - they are travelling to Peru for a two-week visit to Veronique's family. They don't get into details about their relationship, but it's fairly obvious from the way that Olga place her hand casually on the back of Veronique's chair, but letting her hand rest against Veronique's ribs, that they are quite intimate with each other. And I can't help noticing, as Veronique re-crosses her legs on the stool, that the slit in her skirt reveals that she is wearing real stockings under that skirt. I love a women who dresses well both visibly and invisibly, and my mind wanders away from our conversation for a moment thinking about what she might be wearing underneath her outfit, and how lucky Olga will be to watch her undress. I do admire women with nice shoes too, and she's wearing a gorgeous pair of shoes that accentuate the lovely curve of her calves. Veronique does most of the talking, with Olga sitting behind her, smiling, and leaning forward so that her breasts press against Veronique's back. I feel a stir of arousal in my groin, and immediately give myself a mental slap and smile at myself - these are lesbians, I need to let go of the thought of any kind of sexual adventure tonight.
I anticipate only a conversation, but after twenty minutes of chatty conversation, Olga announces that she is starving, and invites me to join her and Veronique at the restaurant for dinner. I'm frankly a little surprised, but happy to take them up on their invitation - they are an interesting and entertaining couple. We soon find ourselves sitting in a booth at the hotel's restaurant, with me on one side, Olga on the other, and Veronique between us.
Exquise...
I am filled with gratitude and excitement - gratitude towards Olga for generously giving me the best birthday present I could ever have imagined, and excitement at having met such an interesting and sexy man as Sean so serendipitously. Now that Olga has invited him to join us for dinner, I know she has given me the green light to turn the evening, and possibly the night, into whatever I can orchestrate.
And all my senses tell me, whenever I make eye contact with Sean, that this night could indeed be memorable. Not only is he sexy beyond what I could have hoped for, but he turns out to also be smart, fun, and a superb conversationalist. All three of us have instantly connected, and have created an atmosphere of ease, curiosity, and undercurrents. But I am starting to feel a little sorry for the poor man! By all indications, we are a committed lesbian couple who are only interested in spending a couple of interesting hours over a meal to pass the time while stranded at the airport. Little does he know that we actually have an agenda that gives him a crucial role - who ever gets to fulfill someone's sexual fantasy after all? - and that my body is on fire. I cross and re-cross my legs, feeling the building pressure in my crotch, my skin feels hot to the touch, my nipples are straining against the fabric of my sleeveless top, and I can detect the moisture between my legs seeping out onto the fabric of my thong. It has been so long since I have made love with a man that my body is clamoring for the feel of his cock pumping into me. If I do not play this right, we would have a quickie that would leave both of us slightly disappointed. If he shows any interest in what I have in mind for us, I am determined to pace myself and draw every single drop of pleasure out of the experience. Since Olga knows me so intimately, she knows full well how aroused I am at the moment. But it is my show, and she is letting me run it the way I see fit.