When They Say You Cant Go Home

There is something about men who are unkempt and in what I will refer to as a state of disrepair that is more attractive to women the nicest, handsomest, most truly confident man that they will ever meet. This is nothing new it just never ceases to amaze me, the maternal instinct that kicks in, and how it leads so easily and quickly to a sexual relationship. There is something very reverse and Oedipal about it.

On the airplane ride back from San Francisco I was half drunk and going on about five hours of sleep over the last three days. I passed out for a minute and woke up with my head on the shoulder of the man next to me, drool running down my chin. My beard was long and scraggly and my mustache which I usually kept shaved was looking like a spic stash. I was sweaty and smelly.

She was one of the flight attendants and she must have been forty at least. She was attractive, but there were pronounced crow's feet under hers eyes. She was slim and curved in the appropriate places under her navy blue one piece uniform but she had a little bit of paunch. It must have been hot on the plane too because she was glowing.

I watched her and the other attendant who was very beautiful and about my age come up the aisle with the snack and drink cart. The truth was, I would have been in love with the attendant closer to my age and her big brown eyes if it weren't for the way the other one was.

The older lady looked like she was having a bad day. She was polite and forced a smile, but she seemed very short with everyone. I guess what I said about women and their maternal instinct works in some strange reverse too.

Every time I fly home from some place, I have a tradition of writing a short poem on the flight about the plane crashing. Usually it involves that an acceptance of the fact that it must have been meant to be if the plane crashes; that I was supposed to be there despite it being the end of my life. It's cheesy, I know. I was writing this one on a cocktail napkin.

"What can I get for you?" the younger attendant asked me.

"No, no," the older one snapped. "You are supposed to take odd rows."

"Oh, sorry," she said and asked the man behind me.

I smiled as warm as I could into the eyes of the older attendant.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"A black coffee," I said.

She smiled at me like she could feel the pain and exhaustion I was in.

Later on the flight, I got up to go to the bathroom. When I came out, the two attendants were sitting in their seats and I had to climb over them to get out. The plane jumped and I steadied myself on the woman's knee.

"Sorry," I smiled.

"Hi," she said.

The rest of the flight was painful. I felt like hell and it kept feeling like the plane was turning around and I would get nervous until I realized that I was still spinning a little bit. The attendants came around twice more, once for more snacks and once again for the trash. I gave her the balled up cocktail napkins which I had used for working on the poem and she threw them away. Once we touched down, I unloaded my luggage from above and put on my felt hat and was one of the first passengers off.

"I have to know, what it was you were writing on all those napkins," she asked me. She was standing with the pilot as I got off the plane.

I explained the tradition and they laughed.

"You didn't have a lot of faith in me," the pilot said, smiling.

"I just like to be the one driving," I said. "And on a plane that's not an option."

"I would love to read it," she said.

I started to take it out of my pocket.

"I can't right now."

"Meet me in the bar near the baggage carousel."

She looked at the pilot who was talking to the other people exiting the plane.

"Okay," she said quickly. "But I can't drink here. It's against regulations."

"All right. How long?"

"Thirty minutes," she said.

It was more like an hour and I was feeling all right after two whiskeys. I was dreading going home because my girlfriend had told me straight out that if I went on this trip that I should not come back. After my second drink, I gave the bartender my credit card and asked her to keep the tab open and save the two seats at the bar. I went across the way to get my big bag. As I was coming back I saw her looking in at the bar. I had been carrying my jacket because it had been so hot; especially coming from San Francisco where it is cool year round. I dropped my bag and spread my coat over her shoulders from behind her. She jumped a little and I let my arm linger on her shoulder.

"If you wear this, you can have a drink and no one will know the difference," I told her.

"I really shouldn't," she said.

"C'mon."

"Fuck it, I don't care anymore anyway," she said.

We drank a beer at the bar and I managed to convince her to do a shot with me. Her name was Connie and she had been having a bad week. She had a similar situation to mine. Her husband was supposed to be out when she got back.

"Somehow, I know he'll be there, though," she said.

"So what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said.

"I'm sorry, it's none of my business. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, it's all right. I'm just tired of talking about it."

"I feel you, I'm tired of talking in general."

"Should I let you go?"

"No," I said. Our legs knees were locked under the bar. "That's not what I meant. I don't want to talk, but I don't want to be alone either."

"So what should we do?"

"I need a hot bath," I said. "I think I'm going to get a room at this hotel near my house. I can't go home."

"A hot bath sounds nice."

"Yeah, I was hoping you might come and have one with me."

"You know," she said. "I'm only saying this because I'm tipsy- but, when you came out of the bathroom and you stumbled... I don't know, you were just so sweet and polite the entire trip- I can't say this..."

"Say it."

"God, this is awful. I'm old enough to be your mother."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's just-" She leaned in close and whispered. "When your hand touched my knee, I started getting wet."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, I don't know what it was- it was electrifying."

"My head is spinning like crazy being this close to you," I whispered. "I cannot remember ever wanting someone this much."

"Don't bullshit me like that."

"I'm serious," I whispered. "If I don't have you somewhere naked fast, we're going to have to find a broom closet."

She laughed. "So let's go."

I paid the tab and we took our bags and left.

"Do you drive here?" I asked.

"No, I live in town so I took the train."

"Me too."

We went to the station and got on a waiting train that was nearly empty. We kissed and I could taste faint tobacco on her. We were feverish in the way that lust pent up can fill you to the brim and make it impossible for you to be well. The train waited ten minutes and by the time it was ready to go the train was full. She sat on my lap so an older woman could sit down next to us. Our bags were stashed under the seats, but she sat with her hanging bag on her knees.

It is embarrassing to admit now, but on the ride into town, I had put my hand up her skirt and was rubbing her through her panties. My erection throbbed into her thigh. The woman next to us was oblivious, as were most of the other passengers. They were all ready to be off the train. There was a girl about my age across from us who realized it and gave me an awful look. I didn't even care. I had worked my way into Connie's underwear and was fingering her. I had to stop, though, because her panties were soaked through and I could smell her a little bit.

When the train arrived to my stop, I helped her with her bags and we made our way to the hotel. It was five blocks away and I did not see a cab so we walked.

"I can't believe you did that," she said. "I was running down my thighs."

"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you."

"To hell with it," she said." I dropped my bags and turned and kissed her.

"C'mon let's walk," she said.

We got to the hotel never seeing a cab. I left her with our bags and went to get a room. The hotel did not seem crowded and there was no one at the desk. I handed the man my credit card and ID.

"Look, man," I said. "We're exhausted. I'm going to leave those with you and come back down in about an hour after we shower, on our way out to dinner."

"Okay," he said. "Before dinner."

He gave me the key and we took the elevator to the third floor and found the room. Inside the door, we dropped our bags and started kissing.

"I need you inside me," she said in between sweaty kisses.

"I've got protection in my bag."

"No, please," she said. "I need to feel you bare."

I lifted her skirt on the way to the bed. She held it up as I pulled her panties off. She was fiddling with the buttons in front, but there was no time. I pulled my pants down and kicked off my right shoe to free the one leg. Then I put her on the bed and stuck my dick in her from behind. She was already so wet there was hardly any friction, but she was very warm inside. We fucked like that for a while and I had to slow down several times to keep us from coming.

We managed to get fully naked and were fucking face to face, my hand on her hip steadying her as I thrust into her forcefully. She was screaming.

"Fuck me harder. Let's just come!"

I increased the force with each time I entered her and she came loudly as shivers ran up and down her body. I was still fucking her as she calmed a little.

"Are you almost there?" she asked.

"Yeah,"

"Come in my mouth."

I went in and out of her pussy a couple more times and then pulled out and moved to her mouth and came down her throat and on her face and tits.

After it was over I went to the bathroom and got a towel and helped her clean up.

"How about that bath?" she said and we went naked into the bathroom and drew the water. The tub was small but we fit with her sitting in my lap. The water was scorching hot water. It felt good on aching bones. We playfully washed each other, paying specific attention to each other's genitalia and erogenous zones. By the time the bath was through, we both felt refreshed.

I went to find my razor in my bag as she finished toweling off. When I came back into the bathroom, she had a towel wrapped around her.

"Let me do it," she said.

I took out my razor and shaving gel and handed it to her. She had me sit on the toilet. She shaved my jowls and mustache being very careful not to pull the hair or cut me. She left only the thick patch of hair I kept on my chin.

"I'm hungry," she said. We had moved to the bed and turned on the television. I was fingering her under the towel trying to get her back in the mood.

"I'll go down the street and pick something up," I said. "You like Thai?"

"We can call out."

"I have to go downstairs and check in anyway."

"Hurry back."

I took the elevator down to the front desk. The man was there waiting for me. He frowned when I walked up.

"You said one hour," he said.

"It took longer."

I checked in and borrowed a menu from the manager to call the Thai place down the street. I walked down the four blocks to the restaurant, stopping on the way at a grocery store to pick up a six pack of beer.

It took about thirty minutes or so to get back to the room. She was asleep on top of the bed when I got back. I opened a beer and put it on the night stand next to her. Then I opened one for me and I drank it quickly while I made us a plate of food. I woke her up by brushing her hair out of her face and kissing her on the forehead.

"You hungry?"

"Extremely."

I got a bite of curry and rice on the plastic fork and held it out to her. She took it in her mouth, chewing it and swallowing. I gave her another and then I took one while she drank some of her beer. Then I fed her some more. We ate and drank quickly. All but two of the beers were gone and most of the food; I had just given her a bite when she noticed me staring at her.

"What?"

"Nothing," I said.

"What?"

"I want to lick you until your eyes roll back into your head."

She put the plastic plate on the nightstand next to her beer and the telephone. She opened the towel and spread her legs.

"Come to mama, baby."

I dived in between her legs and started to lick her ferociously. She tasted salty and clean and after a little bit, she was soaked with saliva and her own juices. I wrapped my lips around her clitoris and pulled at it gently with them and touched it with my tongue. I licked her for a long time, careful to keep her from coming. Finally, she pulled me up and said, "It's time to fuck me again."

I entered her face-to-face this time, feeling her breasts and nipples and her belly pressed against me. We fucked like that for a while, eye-to-eye.

"Take me from behind," she said.

I took myself out of her and turned her around. It felt strange to be in such a heat and unable to be inside her so I hurried to enter as fast as I could. I reached around and rubbed her clit as I fucked her.

"Oh, god."

I rubbed harder in time to the strokes of my entering her.

"Oh, Jesus. Christ. Oh, fuck."

I felt her start to come around me. I was about to come also and I knew I should have pulled out, but I didn't want to lose her orgasm. Fuck it.

I came inside her as she cried out.

I fucked her until she was calm again, the stickiness of mingled sex stuff slick around my penis. Then I stopped and she lay down on the bed with me softening inside of her. We slept in each other's arms most of the night on top of the covers. In the middle of the night she woke me up and made me get under the covers. We snuggled together and it was nice.

In the morning, I woke to sounds of the shower and her getting dressed around me. When she was dressed in her uniform and looking fresh, she walked over to the bed and kissed me goodbye.