If Im Honest Ch 01 05

If I'm Honest

by Corrupting Power

There's an old saying -- no good deed goes unpunished. I've always thought it was a silly saying, but apparently it's very very true. I wasn't looking to change my life. I was simply in the right airport at the right time.

London Heathrow, if you've never been, is a nightmare of an airport. In 2017, over 78 million people traveled through London Heathrow airport, most of them international travelers like me. I should've been just like them, passing through for only a short period of time. And most travelers get where they're going on time.

But every now and then...

"Passengers of Flight 2787 from London to Seattle, we regret to inform you that this flight is overbooked, and we are looking for six volunteers to take a later flight. We are offering a $300 voucher good for another flight on our airline. If your travel plans are flexible, please aid us and accept this offer."

That was their first offer. Two people took them up immediately and then wandered off. About twenty minutes later...

"Passengers of Flight 2787 from London to Seattle, we regret to inform you that this flight is still overbooked, and we are looking for four volunteers to take a later flight. We are offering a $500 voucher good for another flight on our airline. If your travel plans are flexible, please aid us and accept this offer."

Three more people wandered up and accepted the offer, then wandered off as well. It was around this time that I took notice of two people sitting right next to the terminal who kept glancing at the counter, anxiously awaiting with hope. They were a couple around my age, although they were more than a little mismatched. The woman was drop dead gorgeous, I mean she looked like she could've been a model, although she had an easy grace to her. Statuesque, blonde and with massive tits she didn't have any qualms about showing off. But, unlike every other guy in the terminal, I wasn't checking her out. I was looking at the guy.

"Christian? Is that you?" I said to him.

"Derrick? Holy shit, man, I haven't seen you since high school!" Christian had gotten older and bigger, but not in a million years was he in this girl's weight class. There's punching above your weight and then there's punching above your atmosphere. We'd been in theater together, some twenty years ago, and I hadn't seen him since. He was, in a word, schleppy. He looked like the less attractive younger brother of actor Paul Giamatti. And while she was dressed from head to toe in all the designer labels you can shake a stick at, he wore ratty jeans and an Aerosmith t-shirt with holes in it."Are you on this plane?"

"Yeah. You must be one of the people on standby, huh?"

He nodded. "Me and the missus are trying to get home, but it seems like we got here late. And nobody in first class has been willing to wait for another flight." He sighed. She hadn't even looked up from her phone, expensive wireless headphones covering her ears. "At this point, I'd be willing just to take any seat on the plane."

My face scrunched up for a second. "Hold that thought."

I took a few steps up to the counter, and the attendant was about to make another announcement before she saw me step up. "Are you here to voluntarily give up your seat, sir?"

"What were you about to offer?" I said, mostly out of curiosity.

"A thousand dollar voucher, and a comped hotel room for the night."

"Hotel room?"

She frowned, nodding, as if the very sentence had scared off more than a few potentials. The look on her face told me she was expecting me to reject the offer immediately out of hand. It had only just turned to afternoon, and the mention of a hotel room meant it wouldn't be lost hours, but a lost day or days. "We're completely booked up on all our flights to Seattle for the rest of the day, so whoever takes up our offer will need to spend a night in hotel here, and we will have them out guaranteed first thing tomorrow morning." She paused, as if bracing herself for another rejection. "Is that something your travel plans can accommodate, sir?"

I considered for a moment then shrugged. "Sure, why the hell not. Throw in a free meal and you've got yourself a deal," I said as I pulled up my boarding pass on my phone. "Derrick King. I'm in first class. And if you can push me back to midday tomorrow, that'll be fine as well." I held out my phone to her for her to scan, which she did. "Can you also make sure and rearrange the first class a little so my friend Christian Bianchi can sit next to his wife? They're both on standby."

"Of course, sir."

I strolled back over to Christian and smiled at him. "So you'll be all set, man. When the plane arrives in an hour or so, you and your lovely bride'll be on it."

"Brother, you just saved my ass. Lemme at least buy you a drink before we get out of here." He reached over and tapped his bride, who was still watching some video on her phone. "Babe, we're both on the next flight, but I'm going to have a drink with my old buddy who gave up his seat so we can both flight out, okay? I'll be back before you know it."

"No worries, babes," she said to him before turning her gaze onto me, as if noticing me for the first time. Her voice is dripping with an urban London accent. That thousand-watt smile nearly blasts me back a few feet, soft blue eyes fixing on me until I almost feel a little uncomfortable. "You're a lifesaver, man. We just couldn't wait any longer to get home, but don't let me keep you boys. Go, have a pint and get back here before we're supposed to board."

"I'll make sure to have him back before you know it, miss," I said to her, as Christian was dragging himself up to his feet. As he's standing up, I see her reach over and squeeze his forearm with her hand for a moment. The gesture seems to have some meaning, as I see him nod back in return.

We walk down a couple of gates to a small bar, talking along the way. "So what the hell are you doing in London, Derrick?"

I sigh, shrugging a little. "It's a passthrough point, mostly. I did a little networking while I was here, but I spent a week in Mumbai, setting up a call center there before flying over to Dublin to set up another call center there. After all of that, I figured I'd get a day worth of work here in with the local office before I flew back to Seattle. I'm supposed to be back at work on Monday, but when you're the boss, you can tap out for an extra day if you really need to, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help out an old classmate?"

"You haven't seen me in almost twenty years, Der," he laughed. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't even recognize me." We stepped into the little bar and moved up to the counter. "Pint of Guinness and..." He looked at me, prompting my order.

"Full Coke with a shot of your strongest rum in it."

"Why'd you say it like that?"

"If I say rum'n'Coke, I'm going to get a Collins glass half full of rum and half full of Coke," I said as I slipped up onto the barstool. "That's how the majority of people like it, and that's fine, but I know what I like, so I've learned to be upfront about it."

He smirked as he slid up onto the stool next to me. "Sounds like a hard earned lesson. I notice you don't have a wedding ring on. Never got married?"

I sighed, shrugging a little. "Came close once, but nah. Haven't really even been dating for a good while. Too many bad experiences."

"Oh come on. Everyone has a couple of bad experiences in their back pocket, fun stories of dating horrors gone awry. How bad could it really be?"

"Caught my last girlfriend four years ago cheating on me with one of the higher ups at the company I work for."

"Ouch. Hopefully it didn't work out for them?"

"They're married now."

He winced again. "But you don't see them?"

"He's a vice president above me. I don't directly report to him, but he's in my orbit. And I have to endure being around them at holiday parties and whatnot. So that's not great."

"That's a kick in the ass, if you ask me." The bartender set the drinks down in front of us. "And, what, you gave up on dating since then?"

I grinned. "Not everyone has the luck you do to pull a woman a billion times out of their weight class. How'd that happen, anyway? You a secret investor in Amazon I've never heard of or something?"

"I had to try a lot of women before I met up with Natalie. That something you'd be willing to do?"

"If half of them were as pretty as your wife? Hell, I'd go on dozens of strange dates. But," I said, picking up my drink, "as I already said, not everyone has your luck."

"You can have my luck," he said, taking another sip." "If you want it. But you'll need to give it to someone else when you're done with it. When you've found the one."

"If I've found the one, what would I need dating luck for? Sure, I'd pass it on. But how would I know I've found the one?"

"Because this'll come off," he said, hitting my right wrist as I felt cool metal press against the skin. "You're welcome? I'm sorry?" He laughed a little bit, shrugging. "May you live in interesting times."

I glanced down at my wrist and found there was a silver bracelet on it, almost like one of those medical bracelets I'd seen on patients when I went to visit my great grandfather, before he passed away. A bar with a link wrap. On the bar were written two words in Latin. SOLAM VERITATEM. "What the hell is this?"

"My luck, which I'm passing on to you." He lifted his glass again, finishing off his pint far more quickly than I'd have been able to. "Any woman you're interested in will be interested in you. They'll give you a shot. But it won't work out. A lot. And when it does, you'll know why. Sometimes it'll surprise you. Sometimes it'll shock you. Hell, sometimes it'll down right anger you, but you're always gonna know why."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The gift of the band, or curse, depending on how you look at it, I guess. The words are Latin," he said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out fifty Euro, tossing them onto the counter. "Took me a while to get it translated. It either means 'the only truth' or 'only the truth,' depending on who I asked."

I pulled at the bracelet, but the latch felt completely stuck. "I can't take it off."

"Yeah, like I said, you're welcome and I'm sorry. Don't worry, it'll come off when you've found the one. Then you need to pass it on to the next person you meet who seems like they're in need of it."

"How long ago did it come off you?"

"About two weeks ago."

"And I'm the first person in need?"

He shrugged. "It's a subjective thing, I guess. I did try and put it on someone before you, but it didn't latch shut, so I guess that wasn't the right person to give it to. Anyway, safe travels. And enjoy the ride. It's a wild one."

He headed to the door of the pub, but I interrupted him one final time. "How long did it take you? From when someone gave it to you to when you took it off?" I asked him.

"Four years," he answered. "The guy before me said he'd been wearing it for over a decade before it finally fell off, but the guy before that only wore it for six months. No idea before that."

"You don't really expect me to believe all this nonsense do you?"

A wide grin blossomed on his face. "Not yet. But you will, my friend. You will."

And with that, he stepped out of the door, leaving me alone with my drink.

I wanted to go rushing after him, to ask him to explain the joke to me, except he hadn't seemed like he was joking. And as much as I fiddled with the bracelet, it showed no signs of coming off. I was surprised by the tenacity of it. I tugged and tugged, but the bracelet didn't budge in the slightest. It was a little frustrating.

The flight had finished boarding and was pulling away from the terminal. I hadn't thought to get all my information for my flight tomorrow or my hotel tonight before we'd gone for a drink, although they assured me I could come back and get it a little bit later, so there I found myself.

"Hey, I'm Derrick King. I'm back to get my hotel information and my flight set up for tomorrow."

"Certainly, sir."

Over the next few minutes, the attendant set up the hotel room for me, over at the Hilton, as well as a shuttle to and from the airport, and got my flight scheduled for tomorrow. He also makes sure to get me my voucher for future flights, something I'm sure I'll find a use for at some point. I mean, technically I didn't even pay for these flights, so it'll be nice to have a trip that's entirely on my own. All my luggage was already loaded, onto the previous flight so it'll be waiting for me back in Seattle when I get there in a few days. That means I'll end up spending a few days in the same set of clothes, but hell, I'll spend most of that time on planes anyway, so it doesn't really matter.

During the shuttle ride over to the hotel, I sent a couple of emails to people in the office, letting them know that travel had fallen through, and so I would be out of country for an extra day. I was still working during some of the flight time, but I wouldn't be on local time. My team had grown accustomed to that as of late, so I expected everything would run smoothly.

When I got to the hotel, there was a lovely receptionist waiting for me, who apologized for my delay, and said if there was anything she could do to make my stay more hospitable, I only needed to ask. She was far too good looking to be working at a hotel airport, blonde hair in wavy bunches running down past her shoulders and deep blue eyes lined in makeup to draw a viewer's eyes to them. She was fit and slender, but also no taller than my shoulder. There was a bit of a gap between her two front teeth, but it was a minor imperfection in a rather charming package. The name tag just above her breast revealed her name as Brenda.

"Well Brenda, is it okay if I just put in an order for room service here and now, so I don't have to wait too long? I'm starving, so if someone could just send me up a chicken sandwich and some chips with a Coke, that'd be grand."

"No problem at all, sir," she said, clicking with her mouse to set up the order. "It'll be up at your room before the hour is up."

"Cheers." I grabbed my roomkey, my laptop bag and my wheelie carry on bag and headed to the elevator.

The hotel room I'd been given was on the top floor, and seemed more like a suite than a singular hotel room. The bathroom itself was larger than most hotel rooms I'd had over the past year, and there was a whirlpool in it. I mean, I'd been inconvenienced, but not so much that they had to throw a Jacuzzi at me.

I put wheelie next to the closet and my laptop bag on the desk over near the couch, before moving to slump onto the couch, as I kicked off my shoes. I reached over and grabbed the remote, turning on CNN, just to have something in the background before I fished out my laptop, starting to get to work again.

I realize I'm making myself sound like a workaholic, but at that point in my life, back in 2017, I certainly was, and there was plenty of work to be done. Setting up a call center is a pain in the ass. Setting up multiple call centers at once sucked.

There were base line scripts to be written, protocols to be established, escalation procedures to be detailed, and workflow that it seemed like nobody had given a moment's thought to. This set of trips had been to hire key personnel, the head of each future call center, and get them up to speed. I'd been doing logistics and planning, from the highest level things such as location and facilities to the ground floor details like making sure each call team member knew not to provide any personal details to callers beyond their name.

I'd been working on my laptop for twenty minutes or so when there was a knock on the door. "Room service!"

I stood up and folded my laptop closed, setting it on the desk, before I moved over to the door, opening it to see Brenda standing there behind a push cart with a silver dome atop of it, a bottle of Coke next to it, as well as an ice bucket and a pair of glasses. "You didn't have to bring it up yourself, Brenda," I laughed, holding the door open for her as she pushed the cart into the room.

"I did say I would do anything to make your stay more hospitable, Mr. King," she said, pushing the cart over next to the desk.

"Sure, but I'm sure you should be keeping an eye on the front desk, not bringing a chicken sandwich up to some weary traveler in his room." I reached into my pocket, and I didn't have much Euro left, so I took a tenner and held it out to her. "Thanks for doing it, though."

She walked past me and over to the door and opened it, reaching around to hang the "do not disturb" on the door handle before pulling it closed again. Then she turned the deadbolt and put on the latch chain before turning back to me, a wicked smile on her face, as she kicked off her shoes, her legs in long dark stockings beneath a black dress.

"I'm not done taking care of your needs yet, sir." She moved over to me and even though she was so much smaller than me, she maneuvered me around to push me onto my ass on the couch. She wheeled the cart closer and lifted the dome off the top, revealing a lush looking chicken sandwich with a large side of chips. (That's fries for those of us in America. They call fries chips and chips crisps. You learn the lingo pretty quick.) Then she popped the top off the bottle of the Coke and poured some into a glass. The cart was just over the left shoulder of the couch arm, and about the right height to use it as an impromptu table. "Now, enjoy your sandwich."

I tilted my head to one side. "Are you going to watch me eat?"

"No sir," she said, as she moved to stand in front of me, then dropped down to her knees. "Eat up, before it gets cold."

Her hands reached up and unbuttoned my jeans, my breath catching in my throat a moment, But she stopped there and looked up at me expectantly, so I finally turned to look at the food and picked up the chicken sandwich. As soon as I did, she unzipped my jeans and reached in to fish out my cock, running her tongue along the length of it, a fiendish purr rolling from her throat as she did. I reached down with my other hand to run my fingers along the back of her head, but she politely reached up and pushed my arm over towards my food.

For the next several minutes, I was in a life-and-death struggle, enjoying a hell of a chicken sandwich as well as a premiere class blowjob, her head bobbing up and down in my lap, and any time I wasn't eating or drinking, she would cease her motions, and those blue eyes were turn up to me expectantly, almost scolding me for not finishing my meal.

Once the sandwich was gone, I had to resort to getting a few french fries at a time, until the plate itself was clean, and miraculously enough, I hadn't blown a load against the back of this poor girl's throat, although it had taken some truly Herculean effort on my part, especially when I felt her fingertips cradling my nuts.

"Oh look," she said. "You've finished your meal. Now it's time for dessert."

Brenda brought herself up off of her knees and lifted one of her legs to place a foot along the armrest of the couch. I tried to begin to stand up, but she lifted her foot and pressed on my shoulder until my back was flush was the couch again. Then she moved her foot back to the armrest, and started to slowly draw up the dress, exposing more and more of those legs encased within black stockings. After a moment, though, nylon gave way to bare flesh, and it became clear she was wearing a garter belt beneath the dress. And, as they say, no knickers. She had a nicely trimmed V of hair above her pussy, which I could swear was dripping.

"Just sit there and let me tend to all your needs, Mr. King." She slowly dragged her foot provocatively off the couch and placed it down on the carpet of the hotel room, her stance wide before she started swaying her hips, dancing to music I couldn't hear. Slowly, she pivoted around, baring that toned ass to me, before she slid up and into my lap, pressing her back against my chest, rubbing the cleft of her butt along my cock. "You're all pent up," she said, leaning her head back onto my shoulder, one hand reaching up to press against the back of my neck.