Window Seat (part 1)

I wrote this story close to two years ago. At the time, I was experimenting with telling stories within stories. I’ll be posting it here in pieces over the next few weeks.

Part 1

Airports are filled with attractive people. These are people of means. They can make themselves look good. In such a densely packed and frantic place, they come from every direction in unstopping waves. For some travelers, this can be overwhelming. For a smut writer, this can be inspirational.

Joshua was taking an early flight, but the airport already was crowded. He figured that his flight would be too. Facing a deadline, he hoped to get a few thousand words typed while in the air. Words had been pestering him all morning. They whirred through his thoughts, moving like the harried travelers all around him. He saw trails of words hanging in the air after fellow fliers passed him. Travelers dragged their stories behind. Joshua wanted to catch these words and keep them, but there were too many.

He managed to get to his terminal with some time to spare. Sitting down and opening his laptop, he tried to give form to the words spinning around him. One of his current freelancing gigs had him cranking out erotic stories. The scene in the terminal helped stir the mood he needed to crank out a new one. Each woman he saw could become a story. An uptight woman in a pantsuit could get the fucking she needed in an airport hotel room. A college girl in sweatpants could make a dirty video for her boyfriend in the tiny bathroom of a plane. A European beauty visiting her stateside family could meet a classy tycoon who pounds her senseless in the kitchen of his condo.

These weren’t stories, though. They were merely his fantasies. He was horny, but hadn’t found a muse to help turn his lust into something readable. His notes were mostly to remind him later of the airport’s quality masturbation material.

It was all around him. He had an eye for the sumptuous. A woman across from him wore no expression. She had her hair tied back and a delicate scarf around her neck. She sipped coffee through pursed lips. A refined beauty graced her. Everything about her was soft and light. She was a guilt-free dessert. As she sat erect, fixated on her tablet screen, he pictured her with someone’s hand gripping that frock of hair. He saw a dog collar in place of that scarf. He watched a massive black dildo smack against her open mouth.

Another woman whose hair, lips, and skin were all the same color sat nearby. She texted with her legs crossed. Her left foot bounced restlessly. Like the first woman, she had no expression. Joshua gave her one in his mind. He saw her looking up, panting, with sweat all over her. Not all of the sweat was hers. Semen dripped from her mouth. She rode a cock furiously. She squinted and cried out. Her hands were busy, each stroking a separate cock on either side of her. Another dangled inches from her mouth, ready to give her another blast to the face.

He went through several such scenarios. Knowing his capacity for perversion, he was relieved that there weren’t any families around on this weekday morning. Conjuring filth about a young mother would have made him feel uneasy, but it wouldn’t have stopped him. Some of the women around him may have been young mothers. He picked a woman who looked motherly enough and imagined her getting fucked next to a playpen in the middle of the day while her husband was away. A child’s toy would get caught under her ass, squeaking in rhythm with her moans. Joshua wasn’t certain which was worse about this fantasy: the inherent sexism of the mom being home, or the idea of her fucking next to a crib.

Boarding began and interrupted his thoughts before they went anywhere too perverted. Whenever a flight boarded, he scanned around for which women in the queue he’d most like to fuck. An ongoing but comically unlikely fantasy was to see such a woman, get seated next to her, and somehow charm her during the flight. They’d hit it off and get together sometime during their respective visits. The get together would be carnal one-off, but one they’d each remember fondly. These fantasies would distract the fuck out of him. Sometimes he’d wait in line behind the woman he’d picked and he’d picture his semen all over her back. He’d stare at her ass and imagine sweat dampening her panties at 35,000 feet. He’d listen for her voice so he could hear it again later imagining her impassioned moans.

He found a woman in the crowd. She was somewhat olive-skinned. Her hair was inky, soft, and braided down her back. She wore a silly beret and black tights adorned with white crosses. Joshua wasn’t certain if she was eccentric or fashionable. Although usually a good judge of age, he couldn’t get a read on how old she was. He hoped for early twenties. As he contemplated all of this, their eyes met. He hadn’t realized how he had been staring at her. Her eyes were narrow and unfeeling. She looked away just as he began to smile at her. Filing in line ahead of him, she disappeared.

Entering the cabin, Joshua got another look at the woman in the beret. She was seated, looking down, and fidgeting with her bag as he passed her on the way to his seat. Oh well. He usually picked a seat near the rear of the cabin if he planned to write. Knowing anyone could peer over his shoulder made him uncomfortable. He managed to get a window seat in the last row, which was ideal.

After getting himself situated, Joshua began to wonder if he’d have an empty seat next to him. Passengers were settling, the flight crew appeared to be making preparations, and no one had taken the seat to his right. For a few anxious minutes he watched, hoping no one would file all the way back and sit next to him. Then he saw a woman who shook his concentration. She too wore a beret—and a sillier one than the first woman wore. Her body was wrapped in scarves and a jacket, so he couldn’t get a good look at her figure. She had a cute face, though. Her cheeks were ruddy, her hair was mousey, and her nose was distinctive and pointy. He’d remember her if he ever saw her again. Briefly, he pictured her gasping with her eyes shut, her pale body shaking from getting hammered.

Part 2 in a few days…

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