I was beat. The plane had been delayed, the luggage lost and the boarding passengers rude and hoity. The trip was suppose to be a time for getting away, for forgetting about my present life for a little while and fly head first into a week of relaxation, fun and adventure.
I had never left the kids and husband for longer than a weekend. I told my husband that one day, when the kids were up there in age, I would be the one leaving for awhile and would be pampering myself because nobody else would. He laughed then and said "sure hon, whatever makes ya happy".
The time had come.
He had taken all the hunting and fishing adventures with his cronies and NOW it was my turn.
He look frazzled already when I left him as I boarded my plane. He could handle it, I knew. The softball and baseball game juggling act, the make-up piano lessons from this winter, the taking care of in-laws and out-laws, the cooking, picking up and lets not forget the sibling rivalry.
AHhhhhhhh, Calgon take me away.
I just grinned to myself as I took my seat and the airliner's door closed. I put my head back and let out a big breathe of air as the attendant told everyone about the oxygen masks, the floatation devices and we were off and heading into the deep blue yonder.
Hallejujah, I'd made it out without a scrape on me! It was just beginning and I was more than ready.
I had made my decision to vacation on a mountain top-high for this little time away; next time I would consider a little island in the sun possibly. The list was endless. This time I felt like country air, green green meadows and warm temperatures. I had decided to fly this time to my cousin's cabin in the Black Hills of South Dakota and I would reach my destination in approximately an hour, since I had just switched planes in Salt Lake City.
"Are you from South Dakota?" I heard the gentleman ask me who had sat next to me just a few minutes earlier.
"No", I replied as I lifted one eyelid that was already shut.
My first reaction was, "do not bug me! I am free, I am free, I am free at last!!" But I peeked and since I love to visit and chat; I sat up and asked..."do people really admit they're from South Dakota?" I teased.
"I do not know, do they?" he chuckled. "Kind of a smart-mouth, aren't you?" he shot back at me with a wink. This was going to be fun, I thought to myself. I like bantering back and forth with men and using my brain for comebacks, and I loved it when the guy could keep up with me and give as good as he got. That seemed rare in most men.
"Moi?" I asked him, putting my hand to my chest in question. I had decided on wearing a daring low cut knit top and my favorite underwire bra that shoved my ample bodacious tata's into my chin practically.
I was a grown, mature, curvaceous woman and was usually very modest. I am sure my husband questioned my attire today, but then again, it probably went right over his head at what I was wearing when I boarded the plane: a short skirt with sandals and no underwear today. I had thrown caution to the wind which seemed appropriate for flying and left my panties off. Who was going to know anyway? I had just shaved my snatch so my mons was smooth as a baby's behind and around the pussy lips and you could see the pink, seductive flesh as it gave way to my ever-wet slit.
"Hi, I'm Sidda" I said as I reached out and shook his hand and in return I received one shockingly gorgeous smile as he shook mine. The smile had the warmth of the afternoon sun setting over the horizon.
"I live in South Dakota, and I admit it" he mused as he shook my hand and I laughed slightly; flirtatiously I slugging him lightly on the bicep. "I am pleased to meet you Sidda. You can just call me Wade, as he held onto my hand a little longer than needed.
"Nice to meet you 'just' Wade," I said as I jokingly asked for my hand back with a curious expression that crossed my face.
I had let my skirt ride up a little more after I overly exaggerated trying to get my hand free of his. He did not miss a beat as his eyes shot straight to the upper part of my creamy white, exposed big girl thigh. I let him look, spreading my legs a little further, but not overly too much. Thinking to myself, "WHAT had gotten into me? I had not a clue; I did know that I could not stop it, come hell or high water. I was free, I was on my own and my mega need for this trip was surfacing, and a need for something more."
He daringly moved a finger down to the hem of my skirt and flipped the hem slightly. His other fingers glazed my thigh as I placed my finger on top of his and pushed them both down. I felt his hand flatten on my thigh and rest in a slow-motioned subconscious caress of my fleshy thigh. I let him embrace me while he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Who was I to ask someone what the hell he doing cuddling my thigh, or to remove his hand from my creamy, in-need-of-caressing thigh?
"You know Sidda, there are very few women out there with your stature and confidence and that do not let it bother them." I could not believe he was going "there". I looked at him and just let him carry out his thoughts that he obviously was having a hard time reciting to me. "I have always been attracted to large women and I hope this does not appear too forward of me?"
I smiled willing to accept this initiation into the topic of my being a larger plus size woman. "No, not at all," I said, "I appreciate your compliment and I do not think it is too forward at all, I enjoy openness and honesty. "Your compliment makes me feel real warm and comfortable," I mused. Little did he know how warm I was feeling or for that matter, how long I had felt uncomfortable with my size. Nor how in my latter years I had matured enough to know that this is me; what you see is what you get.