Paging Leslie Thompson

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'Sorry Honey but first served, first come.'

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Authors Notes

This Story qualifies as Inter-Racial, Romantic, Erotic Couplings, Group Sex with Creampies, Humorous Innuendo. Even a hefty dose of poetically verbal BDSM and my favorite, Lesbian Action!

So...M/F. F/M, F/F, M/F/F

No adolescents were included in any possible configuration of sexual deviancy.

Just boring ol'adult stuffyness.

Nothing here for you kids to see.

Go do your homework!

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Flying Air Leslie

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Mister Leslie's Perspective

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"Paging Leslie Thompson!"

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"Paging Leslie Thompson!"

...

"Will the passenger Leslie Thompson, please come to the Trans-West Airlines ticket counter. Located on the main terminal concourse."

It was the third page that got my attention since the next leg of my flight to the left coast was on Trans-West. I retrieved the powercord from the outlet and dropped it with my MBP into my backpack and dragging a small rolling suitcase behind me, headed over to the other side of the terminal where I knew the T-W counter was located.

I was happy to see that when I arrived, there was only one customer ahead of me. I had just beat out some young black woman to the line-ropes.

I turned and gave her a smug smile, she gave me a pretty pout at my lack of manners. I thought, 'Sorry Honey but first served, first come.'

Hey, that's funny! I should remember to write that one down.

The customer ahead of me stepped aside waiting for something, while the ticket agent looked up at me and then for some reason at the woman in back of me and asked in an uncertain voice "Uhmm, Leslie Thompson?"

I stepped forward and said "Yep."

While simultaneously the woman behind, rudely pushed past me and said "That's me."

Both our heads snapped at each other and our jaws dropped. The ticket agent looked confused and stuttered as he asked "Wait, what, uhmm, which of you is Leslie Thompson?"

We both were glaring at each other as we insisted in unison "I am!"

"Ah jeez" the airline rep moaned. "May I please see your tickets and your picture identification."

We both dug out our tickets and driver licenses and handed them over.

The agent looked them over and saw that we were both evidently whom we were claiming to be. He motioned at the previous customer standing to the side, who had as confused a look on his face as we did.

"This gentleman needs to get to Orange County today. However we are booked solid. I was hoping that two Leslie Thompson's checked in was an entry error and that a seat would be available. Uhhm, are you two traveling together?"

We both shook our heads no.

"If one of you is willing to give up their seat to this gentleman, Trans-West will compensate you with two hundred dollars plus the next available seat on a flight to Orange County."

We both started to vehemently refuse but to make up for my poor sportsmanship rushing the line, I waved Ms Thompson to go ahead and speak first.

She murmured a grateful "Thank you." to me, then turned to the counter agent "I must be on this flight. I have an important deadline this afternoon and any further delay will cost me a substantial financial penalty."

I shrugged my shoulder and in an apologetic nod to the other customer said "Usually I would be cool with a delay, but today, I am also on a very tight schedule and absolutely need to be in Newport Beach by early this afternoon."

The ticket agent sighed, thanked us for our consideration and handed back our tickets and id's.

"Your flight will be boarding at Gate 4, in thirty minutes. Thank you for flying Trans-West."

As we set off to the boarding gate, I could hear the agent patiently try to explain to the visibly irate I-demands-to-be-a-passenger, that the next step will be for the boarding agent to poll the passengers waiting at the gate, to see if anyone else was willing to delay their trip.

As Miss Leslie and I walked side by side through the thin crowd around the inner security check-point, we were sneaking looks at one another. I'm 6', 180+ pounds, with long glossy dark brown hair in a stallion tail held by a leather band decorated with Navaho symbols. I have pale grey eyes.

I am 22 years old, Welsh-English-Hillbilly ancestry. I've been reassured by several women, who were not my mother, that I am fairly good looking in a freckled/ruddy sort of way. I barely have any melanin and boy, can I sunburn!

The woman is attractive. Tall, at about 5'10", somewhere about 140/160 pounds I would guess but well distributed. She looks muscled not fat. I speculated if she was a collegiate or professional athlete. Must be close to my age, early twenties. She has orange-red amber colored eyes and the Angeleno Jolie puffy lips which I suspect were real. Her skin is a rich dark chocolate and her hair a mass of frizzy dreadlocks, a dark red/black color with copper streaks.

I have no idea if that hair color is real or not. From her shapely body and the way her grapefruit-size breasts bounced as she strode along, easily matching my stride, her tits are most definitely original equipment.

I was intending to talk to her while we are waiting in the lounge but she disappeared into the Ladies room. That seemed like a sensible preflight checklist to check off, so I went to the Gents and did a sensible thing or two myself.

When I came out everybody was lining up to board so I rushed over to where the other Leslie was standing and rudely cut ahead of some businessman talking on his iPhone. Just my luck that's when the stampede through the loading chute began, so she couldn't hear me trying to talk to her.

When we were aboard the plane, the next pleasant surprise was that we wound up seated next to each other.

She shrugged and offhandedly said "One of the agents processing our tickets must have assumed we were a couple and seated us accordingly."

I nodded agreement as I opened the overhead and helped my lovely doppleganger get her two bags up into the overhead with mine. I was happy that in this plane the window seats were two abreast which gave us a minimum of privacy to talk. I was very curious to learn about this other Leslie Thompson. Intending to slide in first as we began to sit, she bumped into me.

Waving her ticket at me, she said in an exasperated voice "Hey Thompson! My ticket says seat A. Pretend for a sec you're capable of being a gentleman."

My face flushed at her snide tone and I snapped back "I always reserve the window seat! Wait, let me look at these tickets... See here, A is reserved for Leslie Thompson, originating O'Hare, Chicago. Seat B is reserved for Leslie Thompson originating Kansas City. The desk clerk mixed these up when he handed our ID's back to us."

She puffed her cheeks (so cute!) to stop an angry retort, then in a sarcastic voice "Please be my guest, Mister Windy City."

In a matching tone I replied as I went ahead and took the window seat "Why thank you, Mizz Jayhawker."

Hey, she actually giggled at that, and again when I smirked at her as I lovingly ran my hands over the armrests with a haughty nose in the air. Nice to meet a pretty woman whose sense of snarky seems as well developed as mine. Then came the required yaddayadda from the pilot and a stewardess.

As they were droning on I leaned over to my seatmate and whispered "I beg your pardon if I am being politically incorrect, but if we have to do a water landing ... I hope you are a better swimmer than I am."

She gave me a dirty look, I'm sure she's heard all the stupid jokes about "Blacks can't swim." Sitting up and provocatively projecting her Mae Wests, she punched back "Don't even think about using me as a floatation device!"

I snorted a strangled laugh loud enough that the stewardess up front gave me an evil look for ignoring her spiel. I just had to get to know this woman better so I stuck out my hand and said "Hello. WE are THE Leslie Thompson of THE Chicago of THE Illinois. WE are so pleased to meet US."

It was her turn to strangle a laugh, she gave me a sharp, analytical look as we pumped hands in the best Ministry of Silly Walks manner.

"WE are so happy to make...OUR acquaintance of THE Leslie Thompson. WE are... THE Leslie Thompson of... THE Kansas City of THE Kansas. Frightening to consider how this world is shrinking, eh what? With the booming overpopulation, now WE even have to share names."

Wow. Just wow! That she was willing to beat my stupid joke to death with her rich contralto voice left me with a raging hardon.

Luckily, Stupid Leslie was in a comfortable position,(so, whadda ya'all call your penis?) I didn't have to do an emergency adjustment. As I know from bitter experience, that particular male handicap grosses out many females. Or, gets careless men ridiculed unmercifully by the remaining women.

I was beginning to suspect that this 'Leslie' would turn out to be one of the latter. A comedienne after my own heart.

During the takeoff I concentrated on the view out the window. Takeoffs and landings are my favorite. Looking down at the city so close below, my imagination feverishly wondering about the lives of all those people we are passing over.

There was the thumping of the wheels being retracted, the changing tones of the engines. Then the roller-coaster feel as we started to level off. And another, distracting sound next to me, I couldn't quite hear.

I tore my gaze away from the view below to look at the other Leslie. I hate to sound racially insensitive but she had actually turned pale.

Her white-knuckled hands clutching the armrests as her body arched against the seatbelt. Nice boobs! And prominent nipples trying to poke through her bra and blouse.

So sue me. I'm a heterosexual male of the Order Mammalia, pardon my interest.

She was cussing under her breath I think, while, yep I am racially insensitive, the white of her rolling eyes was very visible to me.

Ohh...kay! I leaned over to her as I patted her nearest hand and said in a quiet, soothing voice "Usually I have to get a couple of drinks into a woman before she'll relax enough...to have such an orgasm."

My dark beauty turned a blank stare to me. As it sank in what I had just said in my best slimey voice, her expression snapped to anger and she snarled at me to fuck off!

But then, as she sat back and relaxed, it only took her a moment to realize that my distraction had relieved her panic attack. She glared back at my smug expression and said "Yeah, yeah, I'm scared of flying. That's why I prefer the window seat, to confront my fear head on!"

In a supercilious tone and an airy wave of a hand I replied "Oh I must disagree. People are NEVER afraid of flying. That would be a reasonable and rational phobia. After all we do not have wings and feathers. No, no...What we are really afraid of is the crashing and the burning and the dying! A totally ridiculous, unreasonable and irrational fear, of course."

Her head snapped back as I spoke and her expression was just too precious for words. She was obviously flummoxed trying to decide if I was completely insane or a bad comedian. Then she put her head up and laughed out loud until she had to dig a kleenex out of her bag to wipe the tears from her eyes and spit from her chin. I guess bad comedian won out.

The stewardess came by and I bought both of us bottles of orange juice. As we sipped at the sweet-tart drink, she asked "So, why are you aboard this three hour tour to the sunny island of walled-in, pasty white entitlement and enclaves of conservative smugery?"

"Oh trope! I have to monitor my ex-best friend's bachelor party at the VERY exclusive Newport Yacht Club this afternoon. How about yourself, Ginger?"

She didn't quite snort OJ out her nose but she had to wipe her face before replying "Well, Sea-man Gilligan..."

I harumphed at that! I ran a hand across my head and with a hoity-toity nose in the air attitude, snarked "My official job title on this voyage of discovery is Professor!"

"Yeah? Well, Professing Gilligan..."

That got a loud guffaw out of me.

"...I have to rush packing up and moving all my stuff from my old apartment by 6pm tonight or I'll lose my substantial deposit. I'm already a week overdue getting out. If my crap isn't moved by time the office closes, they'll charge me another month's rent and that would well and truly bite my budget sharply upon my shapely black ass."

I sympathized "The fine print in lease agreements can suck big time!"

"I let myself be panicked into rushing back home for a family emergency that turned out to be less of an emergency and more of my ditzy sister having one of her world-class tantrums over the equivalent of a broken fingernail. She is such a drama queen and our parents are always enabling her selfish behavior!"

I gave her a moment to brood then she continued "I managed to beg a few hundred bucks out of my dad to help cover this stupid trip but it's going to be hell trying to make up for the lost time. I couldn't get a return flight before today."

"Well, the good news is, no one you care about is sick or injured or dying."

"Yeah? I guess that's a sensible way to look at it. Still pisses me off that they all expect me to drop my life into the crapper every time Sister Dearest has the vapors. That's why I had moved to California, I was hoping to finally put all that behind me."

In a skeptical tone I snorted "Uh huh?" Before amplifying my viewpoint "The problem I've experienced with putting problems behind me is they then have a sneaky habit of stabbing me in the back!"

Her expression and tone of voice switched to mischievous curiosity "So, why are you attending, uhmm monitoring, your ex-best ex-friend's ex-bachelor party?"

In a pretentiously confidential revelation, I told her "I bribed the escort firm to sneak in a different stripper of my choice, to jump out of the cake. She has an uncanny, close resemblance to my ex-fiance. And every guy at the party, not only knows Marian, but also they will all be at the wedding and afterwards attend the reception."

She snickered "Ex-fiance Marian, I take it?"

I nodded and continued "Chet will have his first stroke when he see's a scantily clad twin of Marian, the 'Notoriously Prudish Snob', pop out of the cake."

"Oh! My! God! You are an evil man!"

"His second stroke will come when she starts to strip off what little there is to her costume. Ex-darlin' Marian never! Ever! Approved of removing her pubic hair. The stripper will leave nothing to the imagination. I have already pre-inspected and double-checked the quality of those goods. When I pay for smooth, I get smoooothed."

My seatmate was making stifled snearking noises.

"I happen to know that bald pussy is one of ex-friend Chet's most cherished not-so-secret fetishes. I smile whenever I think of the look of disappointment...Nay! Horror! On his face the first night of their honeymoon."

She was practically howling into a wad of kleenex as she gasped out "No! Please! Stop!"

"Then the peace dey NO resistance. The stripper's to yell 'Line up boys! Every man standing gets to fuck the bride! I'll take you all on three at a time!' while bumping and grinding her naked way down the tabletop. To throw herself onto a couple of the dumber football players my ex-best ex-friend likes to hang out with."

Femme Leslie groaned with practically a whole fist crammed into her mouth to stop from screaming with laughter. While tears of painful joy rolled down her cheeks. I decided to move in for full court press and put this ball through the net.

"They'll be tag teaming her in a flash DP, before ex-best Chet can react. None of those boys in that party would qualify as the brightest bulbs in the pack.

Then she is to yell 'Chet come cram your cock down my throat!'

Cause that's another, on the long list of ex-darlin' Marian's 'I do not approves' but it is ex-friend Chet's deepest, darkest secret, that oral is the only way a woman can get him off."

"Stop it!! You horrid man! You're making me pee myself!"

"Swish! And Scoooore!! Two points for team Windy City! Yyeeeaaahhhhhhh!"

One of the stewardesses came by to check on all the commotion I was causing. Ms Thompson took the opportunity to escape to the toilet with her large handbag.

Returning in a few minutes with her face washed and dry pantaloons, I'd predict. She started chuckling as soon as she could see my fakely doleful countenance.

As she began to sit down, I casually asked in my best Brit BBC voice "Get your sopping knickers taken care of then, darling?"

She giggled at that, then nicely shocked me when she reached into her bag's side-pocket, pulled out her wadded up wet panties and with a defiantly superior glare, stuffed those into the large pocket of my shirt. This woman does not back down from a challenge!

I think I'm in love. Oops, from her expression I think I said that out loud. To cover my embarrassment I joked "I wonder if the aircraft captain is authorized to marry us?"

Her head kind of twitched, then those big lips blew me a pouty kiss as she took my nearest arm into both of hers (Wow! She's got real muscles.) pressing her impressive bosom against me.

She leaned her Lovely African face close to mine and while exhaling warmly into my ear with a tingly nibble, her sultry voice answered "The pilot had announced when we were passing over the Grand Canyon. And well, what happens in Lost Vegas stays in Lost Vegas, korije?"

I was panting and my face must have been beet red!

She continued. "Shall we have the pilot pull over at the nearest 24 hour Wedding Chapel and pancake house for a quickie marriage? Then a quickie honeymoon here aboard the Mile-High Club? Arriving at John Wayne for a quickie divorce?"

It was my turn to laugh out loud and she briefly joined me but did not let go of my arm. Another nibble of my ear was followed by a stimulating kiss with her hot tongue licking into my ear canal, causing me to jump. Now I was all hot and bothered!

She whispered "That's for making me drench an expensive pair of Victoria's best silk panties, you sexy bastard. Ex-darlin' Marian is an idiot!"

I tried my best to answer with a seriously straight face "Guilty as charged Your Honoress. But I must honestly confess that the idiots in this case were Me, Myself and I. Just blind stupid luck that she got greedy enough to switch horses and go after Chet and his suddenly substantial inheritance."

Twisting in my seat to put us face to face with only an inch to spare I quietly propondered outloud "Marian always refused to laugh at my jokes. All my life, I have been the class cutup and schoolyard clown and friendly practical joker. Since I met her, I can now see that I was well on my way to becoming a young old sourpuss."

With a melancholic shake of my head, I continued "I realize now that Marian has that effect on everyone around her. How sad. I feel sorry for Chet and the others and almost even feel sorry for Her. Thank you...for allowing me...to wet your panties."

I was drowning in the flare of those lovely amber eyes as she leaned forward, tilted her head and gave me a rousingly passionate kiss. Double effing wowie!

We were busy working out the best head position for lip-locking and tongue-swapping when a stewardess came by and rudely interrupted us with the trivial details of imminent reality. "Excuse me lovebirds. We are entering Orange County airspace and you will have to put your seatbelts on and your tray up."

Still kissing, I blindly waved my right hand about, found both drink containers on my tray, handed them one at a time to the Stew and then put the tray up. That was when Leslie pulled her face away with a thoughtful expression as she looked deep into my eyes. Then she shifted back into her seat, looking up at the cabin ceiling as she dabbed at her smiling lips.