Making a Connection  

6sinsation9 54M
23 posts
7/6/2005 9:08 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

Making a Connection

I've done a great deal of business travel in my career, though I've never really understood why; most of them time, a phone would've done nearly as well, but far more cheaply.

And business travel is usually far less interesting than most people seem to think - too often you get to see the airport, the office building you're visiting, and the road between them. Sometimes add a hotel in there, and a restaurant or two. You get the point.

There are also other popular misconceptions about expense account travel that include a sybaritic lifestyle for the traveller, where every flight is practically a flying orgy, every hotel bar is packed with young, sexy, sexually-deprived women, and where every hotel room is a palace; even the maids look (and act) like porn stars. I can see why these misconceptions are popular, I wish it were so, too. Sadly, however, the reality is far less interesting.

Be that as it may, one of the perks of frequent travel are upgrades - better rooms, better cars, better seats.

Anyway, I do have one story to share which at least begins with my travels. Some years ago, I went on a week-long business trip to the West with a co-worker. This was one of those rare trips where we actually finished a bit early, and managed to fit in a day of skiing before catching our flight. I had some available first-class upgrades, and so used a couple to get us moved to first-class - the seats weren't adjoining, but I didn't care, I'd kind of had enough of his company, anyway.

I'd chosen the window seat this time, thinking that I'd be able to sleep a bit. It was an evening flight, leaving around 7:00 pm, so not a red-eye, dinner and such would be served. But I was tired from the skiing, a bit sore, so thought I might catch a nap.

The seat next to me remained empty as we neared departure time - I tried not to hope that it remained empty, because inevitably, I'm punished for such wishes - not only would it be filled, but probably filled by a 450-pound guy with a bad cold and a gas problem.

When I first saw her, I felt like all the air had been suddenly sucked from my lungs. I hadn't even noticed her arrival, until I realized someone was putting something in the overhead - I glanced over, to see her there - really, could just see her legs and body, her face was still hidden from me. But oh! such a body - my first impression was the rather ordinary business-like grey wool skirt she wore, trimmed with black satin, but I feel sure the way it clung to her hips was something the designer never dreamed of, and it was definitely too short for Sunday School, ending well above her knees. And as she was reaching up, I was seeing more of her legs than I suppose she intended - not that I objected!

She wore black stockings that encased the sexiest, most shapely legs I'd ever seen. Strong and smooth, they called to mind the word 'sculpted'. Next I noticed she wore a chaste long-sleeved white blouse, buttoned at the collar, and wore a string of pearls around her neck. As she was reaching up, her blouse was stretched tight against her body, and I could see she was extremely well-toned, and lightly muscled, and her breasts appeared to be of perfect size for my taste, call it a "B+" cup. She appeared to be somewhat short; with her petite yet obviously extremely fit and strong body, the word "gymnast" flashed in my mind. I can still see all this in my mind, frozen in time like a snapshot - it was years ago, but it could've been this morning. And I hadn't even seen the best part - her face.

She finished putting her things away, closed the overhead, and looked to her seat, then looked at me, catching me in full gawk. She had an arresting face, so my usual strategy for dealing with situations like that (blush, mumble something unintelligle, and turn away in an agony of embarrasment) was forgotten, and I managed to smile and say hello as she sat down. She returned the smile, shyly, but her eyes were friendly enough, so that was a good thing. I realize now I never took my eyes off her as she took her seat, and settled in - I was immediately captivated. Not that this doesn't happen often to me, but rarely does it lead to anything worth telling a story about ...

She was, in a word, beautiful - she had clear, flawless cream-colored skin, surprisingly large, liquid brown eyes, raven black hair, just past her shoulders, and very slightly curly, and which, on closer inspection, revealed burgundy highlights. She had lush, pouty red lips, and a strong aquiline nose. Her features suggested the Mediterranean; I learned later she had Persian and Turkish blood, among others. Not having a photo of her, I've attached one that looks much like her.

Now I'm afraid I have to run, but will finish this soon.

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