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Two Ships Passing


The old Hong Kong airport was its usual disaster–crowded,
smelly and noisy. I was first to board the giant 747 when
the announcement finally came. I turned left into the first
class section and found my window seat on the right side
of the cabin. The stewardess took my coat and offered me
the choice of champagne, white wine or orange juice. I passed
and quickly took off my shoes and put on the slipper socks
supplied by the airline, grabbed my book and settled in.

My name is Dave Williams. I’m five feet eleven inches tall,
brown hair, brown eyes and weigh about 180 pounds. My job
required a lot of traveling. Fortunately, when I received
my last promotion I negotiated the deal that I would travel
first class as part of my compensation. In a moment of weakness
my company agreed and henceforth I road in the front of the
The noise of the first class cabin filling was background
clutter as I started a new detective escape book. I had bought
5 of them for the thirteen hour flight back to my home in San
Francisco. I felt the seat shake as the passenger sat down
next to me. “Shit, ” I thought. “I was really hoping the
seat would stay empty.” I refused to look at my fellow passenger.
From past bad experiences if you are too friendly up front
and you get a talker, you are in for a miserable, torturous
The cabin door closed in preparation for the push back,
and one of the stewardesses went to the front of the cabin
for the safety demo. I looked up, not for the demo, but to
check out the stewardess, but my eyes never made it there.
My fellow passenger was a female, and she was a Ten–not nine
point eight or nine point nine, but a Ten! I thought, “You
asshole; old Mr. unsociable sitting next to a beautiful
woman and not even knowing it. How dumb can you be?”
The Ten was about five feet seven inches tall, short cut
blond hair, high cheek bones and slim legs. She had on a pants
suit that must have cost in the hundreds. The stewardess
had taken her coat as she sat there in a white blouse with
the top two buttons undone so just the touch of skin was showing.
Her breasts pushed against the silken blouse material
and came to a point where a point should be.
She must have sensed my staring as she turned to me…green
eyes; beautiful emerald deep green eyes…and said, “I hope
we aren’t delayed. I have been in the airport for an hour
and it was horrible.”
I answered, “I think we’re in pretty good shape. This airport
is really small with only the one main runway, so once they
push you back they really want the plane to leave quickly
to free up space for incoming planes.”
She nodded her understanding and went back to her magazine.
I sat there trying to calculate some way to restart the conversation
when the stewardess came up to us to take our drink orders.
Looking at her sheet she asked, “Mr. Williams? Would you
like a drink after take off?” I answered, “Jack Daniels
on the rocks would be great.”
Again checking her sheet she looked and said, “Mrs. MacMillan?
What can I get for you?”
Mrs. MacMillan answered, “Just a white wine; whatever
you have opened.”
The plane had taxied to the end of the runway and was slowly
turning to be in position for takeoff. The engines ran up
and after a moment I felt the plane bounce forward as the
pilot released the brakes. Regulations state that a runway
must be long enough so that when the wheels lift there is
still 50 percent of the runway left so that if the plane has
engine failure, there still is a place to set it back down.
Hong Kong had somehow pulled a pass. From experience I knew
we would be using 75 percent of the runway or more before
we left the ground. The plane gathered speed and raced down
the runway and finally lifted.
I watched the nearby apartments gradually becoming smaller
as the 747 made a soft bank to the left. Just as I was about
to return to my book, I heard a bump.
‘Heard a bump’ is a strange phrase to use to describe an event
in a large jet aircraft. You might feel bumps during a flight,
but you do not ‘hear bumps’ when flying in a safe plane. I
looked up instantly and saw the nearest stewardess. Her
face had turned white. My fellow passenger asked, “What
was that noise…is something wrong?”
I answered without taking my eyes off the stewardess, “We
heard a bump; I think something blew on takeoff.” Looking
outside the window quickly I continued, “And we aren’t
going up any more; we should be climbing.”
Just then the pilot came on and said very quickly, “Please
be calm everyone. We don’t have a major problem…yet. I will
be back to you shortly.”
The ‘yet’ did it. One of the woman passengers started to
cry. Then I felt someone grabbing me. I looked at my seat
companion and saw absolute, complete terror in her eyes.
She was gripping my arm and pulling it and gasped, “I hate
flying…I hate it. Why do I ever get on one of these things
when they scare the hell out of me? Are we going to crash?
I replied, “I think we are alright so far. The pilot obviously
has a problem that he is trying to fix, but the main thing
is that we are not going down.” I did not mention that, on
the other hand, we were not going up either. My left arm was
still inside her right arm and she had not released my hand.
I squeezed her hand and said, “I’m guessing we will know
what’s up pretty quick.” I could feel her breast against
my arm as she held my hand. I knew that there was no way she
was going to let go of someone who seemed to be somewhat calm
in a situation where she expected to die.
We sat in silence for about three minutes. When a bit of turbulence
bumped the plane, she yelped and pressed harder into me–she
was terrified. The pilot finally came back on the intercom
and said, “Well folks, sorry about that problem. We are
safe, but here is the situation. We blew one of our four engines
at about three thousand feet. The bump you heard was the
engine. We immediately turned it off and reset the plane
for flying on three engines which it is fully capable of
doing. However, safety regulations and common sense dictate
that we return to Hong Kong and repair or replace our engine.
Unfortunately, we are fully loaded with fuel. If we landed
now there is a good chance the wings would snap off from the
weight of the fuel. So the solution is that we will circle
for about three hours dropping fuel, and then land back
at Hong Kong. Our representatives will meet us on arrival
and take care of you from there. So relax and enjoy three
hours of circles. Obviously, the no smoking sign will be
on until we land.”
I looked at my hand holding seat companion. She finally
realized she was still clutching my arm and hand. She let
go and said, “I’m sorry to be such a wimp. Flying just scares
the hell out of me, and every time I get the courage to fly,
I’m petrified. Thanks for being my hand holder. My name
is Jill MacMillan.”
I replied, “I’m Dave Williams. I enjoyed holding your hand–feel
free to hold it some more if you want to--but can I ask, if
flying upsets you so much, why do you fly?”
Jill gave a nervous little grin and answered, “Money…sometimes
my job requires flying; if I don’t fly, I don’t make any money.”
I asked, “What job forces you to fly?”
Jill looked at me and said, “I just want to talk. If I talk
maybe I won’t think that this plane is going to crash, although
I know this plane is going to crash. So tell me to shut up if
I talk too much.
“I’m a head hunter that specializes in financial derivatives.
Derivatives are the thing right now and every bank has to
have a financial derivatives department. The demand for
people who really know what they are doing is much bigger
than the supply, so salaries keep going up. When I find a
good person and they get hired, I receive an amount equal
to 30 percent of their starting salary as my compensation.
Actually, that’s not quite true. I have a partner in New
York who is the bird dog. He goes to the main banks and becomes
friends with the top people in each derivative department.
They go drinking, partying whatever, so when an opening
comes up, we get the placement. He gets 25 percent of my compensation.”
“Are salaries that high in derivatives?” I asked.
Jill answered, “Five years experience is probably worth
$175, 000 to $250, 000 depending on what kind of experience.
Thirty percent of $200, 000 is $60, 000 which is why I am
on this damn plane. We have two openings for one of our clients
in New York. I know two traders in Singapore and three in
Hong Kong. I came out here to talk to them and see if they might
be willing to switch companies. I was lucky this time–three
of them agreed to fly to New York for interviews. It could
be a big payday for me, if I’m still alive.”
I asked, “How did you ever get into that field?”
“I started as a derivatives trader in a New York Bank right
out of college. I was a pretty good trader, but not great.
One day I was asked to go to the Ivys to interview the seniors…
“Ivys?” I interrupted.
“Yes, the Ivy League schools–Yale, Dartmouth, Harvard–the
bunch. It turns out that I was a good not great trader, but
I have a great ability to gauge which person would make a
great trader. After a few of my picks were put on the fast
track, my company quickly switched me to full time recruiting.
After five years recruiting for the company, I went on my
own. It was a friendly parting. My old company is one of my
best customers.”
Jill stopped talking and looked at me. “I’ve been doing
all the talking. What do you do?”
I answered, “Jill, nothing as glamorous as you. I am the
chief of operations for a private aircraft maintenance
company. We go to various airlines and offer to give complete
maintenance to their fleet of planes. And no, my company
doesn’t service this airline. Anyway, China has a terrible
maintenance problem as their planes have a better chance
of crashing than any other country other than Russia. I
went with our sales rep to visit my counterpart in China
and see if they would give us the contract.”
“Did you get it, ” Jill asked.
“Don’t know. The last meeting I had was with the top guy–his
name is Mr. Choi. He had no body language and he didn’t speak
English so it was impossible for me to read him. Of course,
he kept hammering me that our price was too high. Finally
I had to go into the heart surgeon routine.”
“Heart surgeon routine?” asked Jill.
“Yes, there are versions of it, but the one I used through
the translator was that Mr. Choi was to pretend that he had
a very serious heart condition and needed immediate and
very delicate surgery. I called ten heart surgeons in Hong
Kong and asked them what their price would be for the operation.
I chose the cheapest one and he is going to operate on Mr.
“So the only encouragement I received that we might get
the contract was after I told that story, I finally got Mr.
Choi to laugh.”
The plane continued to circle and Jill and I continued to
talk. After a couple of hours I finally approached a delicate
subject when I asked Jill, “Won’t your husband be worried
when you don’t get home when you planned?”
Jill hesitated and then said, “MacMillan is my maiden name.
My husband and I split about a year ago. He didn’t like my
job, my traveling, and my making more money than him. It
was probably both our fault, but I finally faced up to it
that he had stayed with me for the money, not for love. So
I divorced him.
“What about your wife? Won’t she be worried?”
I thought how to answer that question and then decided,
head on. “Six months ago I came home from a two week trip one
day early. A strange car was in the driveway; a strange man
was in my bed. We got a civilized divorce–she got 75 percent
of the money and the house.
Jill took my hand and looked at me. She whispered, “I’m so
The pilot came on again, “Folks, we finally dropped enough
fuel and were going to land in about 15 minutes. Once you
get off the plane our representative will tell you what
is going to happen. I apologize for this inconvenience.”
The plane landed without incident other than my hand was
numb from Jill squeezing it. They had pulled the plane to
a maintenance area so we had to exit by going down the outside
stairs that had been pushed to the plane. I looked at two
mechanics by one of the engines. One of them was on a stepladder
and had already opened the cowling. The one on the ground
yelled, “What’s it look like?” The one on the ladder yelled
back, “This baby ain’t going to be flying soon.”
He was right. All the passengers gathered in a large room
where the airline representative said, “Your plane cannot
be repaired quickly and we have no spare plane in Hong Kong.
All the other airlines that had planes going to the US have
already left; so we are flying one of our surplus planes
here, but it won’t arrive until tomorrow. The airline has
booked rooms for all of you at a nearby hotel, and the shuttle
buses will be here in minutes to take you there. Your luggage
will arrive at the hotel shortly after you get to the hotel.
Of course, your meals will be on us. Are there any questions?”

After a few complaint questions, the shuttle buses arrived
and we boarded. Jill and I stayed together…she was still
a little shaky and I knew that I sure didn’t want to leave
When we arrived at the hotel, another airline representative
was there. We went up to him and said our names and he checked
a sheet and gave us our room key. They had pre-checked all
of us in. Jill and I were both on the sixth floor, but far apart.
I was in room 602 and she was in 648.
We were not in a bad section of Hong Kong, and it was mid afternoon
with no luggage. I turned to Jill and asked, “We have time
to kill. Do you want to take a walk around the neighborhood,
window shop and see the locals?”
Jill answered, “Good idea. No luggage and an empty room
isn’t too much fun.”
And so we walked up and down the streets of Hong Kong. It’s
a funny world. In Russia the business people are friendly
and the people on the streets are rude. In China, the business
people are rude, but the people on the streets are friendly.
Many young adults and children came up to Jill and me and
practiced their English–always grinning. It was a fun
hour walk seeing the stores and practicing English with
the people.
But then our luck changed. Three blocks from our hotel,
a mid day shower hit us hard. It was a torrential downpour
for 15 minutes, and Jill and I had no protection for five
of those minutes–we were soaked.
We ran dripping into the lobby. Suitcases were neatly arranged,
and I quickly found mine. Jill wasn’t so lucky. Her suitcase
wasn’t there. She went to the airline representative who
checked his notes. He told Jill that her suitcase had been
misplaced and was still at the Hong Kong airport. He assured
her that it would be delivered in an hour or so.
So there we were. Two lost souls in the middle of a lobby dripping
wet and getting cold from the air conditioning. I said,
“If you want to, come up to my room and take a hot shower. We
can wait in my room until your suitcase gets here.”
Jill didn’t hesitate, “I accept. I’m cold, I’m dirty from
the flight and the walk, and I just want to be warm.”
We went to the room which turned out to be quite nice. Jill
quickly went into the bathroom and shortly afterward I
heard the shower start. She was in the shower for at least
15 minutes. Then there was silence for 10 minutes and the
bathroom door opened. Jill came out in a long hotel terry
cloth robe. She looked at me and blushed, “I couldn’t put
on the wet clothes after that shower.”
I knew Jill was nervous so I said, “Just sit down on the couch
and relax. I will ply you with a white wine from the mini bar
and we will keep checking to see if your suitcase has finally
Jill flashed me a grin of relief as she sat down on the couch.
We were quiet for a few minutes as she sipped her wine and
I sipped a beer. Finally Jill asked, “If this is too personal,
just say so, but did you love your wife before you caught
her cheating?”
I answered immediately because the same question had come
up in my mind many times, “Yes, I don’t make friends easily
and when we married, she was my friend–my best friend–and
my wife. I guess my job paralyzed my brain, but I never saw
it coming. All I remembered were the good times; there were
no bad times. And then she cheated. I still don’t know why
or what caused it. But I’m a dumb male and maybe that’s what
happens to us.
Was it the same with you Jill?”
Jill answered, “Just the opposite. I knew I was stronger
than him and I knew he resented it, but the sex was fine and
I deliberately ignored all the bad things. It was like a
Greek tragedy where you know the ending will be terrible,
but you continue on to the tragedy–you can’t help it.
We stopped talking again. The silence was not awkward;
it was comfortable. As I sipped my beer I looked at Jill.
Her legs had separated and I could see her legs up to her knees
before the robe started. She saw me looking but made no effort
to change her position. I reached for the phone again and
called the lobby: her suitcase had finally arrived and
was being taken to her room.
I asked her, “After you get organized, can I take you to dinner?”
Jill answered, “I would like that a lot.”
Jill dressed quickly and left and I called the concierge
and asked if there was a nearby Chinese restaurant that
would treat tourists nicely. He suggested one about two
blocks from the hotel, but warned me that it was a little
pricey. I asked him to make a reservation for two at seven
o’clock. He also told me that the airline was delivering
a memo under each door that the replacement plane would
take off at noon tomorrow and that we would be taken to the
airport at ten o’clock.
I met Jill in the lobby at the agreed time. She was wearing
a striking mandarin dress which was cut somewhat low to
show her breasts and the slit up the side showed her leg to
mid thigh. The dress was satin or silk with bold designs
of dark blue and dark green; the green complimented her
eyes perfectly. The open neck of the dress spread to the
expanse of her chest highlighting her skin complexion–she
was beautiful. I took her hand and we walked to the restaurant.
The restaurant was in a pagoda type building between two
large office buildings. We walked into the entrance to
water falls and fountains. We were taken to our table which
was a booth on one side and a chair facing the booth. Jill
sat in the booth facing me.
Jill said, “This is all new to me. Would you order what you
think I might like so I don’t have to guess?”
I grinned. “I will order for you, but you have to eat with
chopsticks; I will teach you. But if I have to teach you,
I have to sit next to you. Is that a problem?”
Jill replied, “Of course not. Please do.”
I had some experience with Chinese food. With the help of
the English speaking waiter we ordered shark fin soup,
dry egg rolls, wet dumplings, Peking Duck, and shrimp fried
rice. The shark fin soup was served with a clumsy, thumb-like
spoon and Jill had no trouble eating it. She ran into trouble
with the egg rolls and dumplings. I put the chop sticks in
her hands and they immediately slipped out. I finally reached
my arm around her so that our hands were side by side. I had
her pick up the chopsticks and my hand covered her hand as
we gripped the dumplings and brought it to her mouth. Sometimes
the food made it to her mouth, and sometimes it fell back.
It didn’t matter; we were enjoying ourselves.
Finally, the Peking Duck arrived. Jill was surprised that
there was so little duck meat. Rather the skin was presented
with 10 different side items from onions to thin slices
of celery to bitter sweet sauces. I took a piece of skin and
asked her what to put in it. She chose 4 or five items. I put
them on the skin, rolled them up and with my fingers lifted
the roll to her mouth. She took one bite, then another, and
finished her first piece. She licked my fingers as the last
piece disappeared. Role reversal–she did the same to me.
However, when my first piece was done, I licked her fingers,
and then turned her hands over and kissed and licked the
palms of her hands. I looked up and saw her green eyes staring
at me–it was a nice stare.
Finally, the Peking Duck arrived. Jill was surprised that
there was so little duck meat. Rather the skin was presented
with 10 different side items from onions to thin slices
of celery to bitter sweet sauces. I took a piece of skin and
asked her what to put in it. She chose 4 or five items. I put
them on the skin, rolled them up and with my fingers lifted
the roll to her mouth. She took one bite, then another, and
finished her first piece. She licked my fingers as the last
piece disappeared. Role reversal–she did the same to me.
However, when my first piece was done, I licked her fingers,
and then turned her hands over and kissed and licked the
palms of her hands. I looked up and saw her green eyes staring
at me–it was a nice stare.
We finished the meal and returned to the hotel hand in hand.
As we took the elevator to the sixth floor, I found myself
embarrassed. On one hand I didn’t want the evening to end,
but on the other hand I didn’t want to screw things up. As
we walked down the hall together to my room–hers was much
farther–I finally said what at the time was probably the
dumbest hit any male could ever make. We arrived at my room
and with a teasing sound in my voice said, “Jill, when you
took your shower this afternoon, you missed one spot on
your back…maybe you want me to wash that spot?”
Jill looked into my eyes and said nothing. Maybe 10 seconds
went by, but it seemed like thirty minutes. Finally she
said, “Well, I can’t go to bed with a dirty spot on my back,
so I accept your offer.” She pulled my head down and kissed
We went into the room. The bed had been turned down, but I
went over to pull more of the covers to the side. Jill undressed
quickly and went into the bathroom; I heard the shower start.
I quickly took off my clothes and walked into the bathroom.
I opened the show curtain and stepped in. Jill turned to
me as I clutched her and we kissed again–her breasts pushing
into mine. I turned her so that her back was to me facing away
from the shower and grabbed a wash cloth and soap. I soaped
up the wash cloth and slowly started to wash Jill. Starting
at her neck I moved over her shoulders, under her arms, and
down her back with slow, circular motions with the soapy
cloth. At breast level I reached around her and slowly washed
each breast, teasing her nipples until I heard her moan.
I continued down her body to her ass–in and around and under,
the cloth separating her lips and exciting her clitoris.
Then her inner thighs were assaulted by the soapy cloth
until she was shaking. My erection was enormous, but I ignored
it as I turned her around and let the shower wash the soap
from her body.
I turned off the water and helped her from the shower. As
she stood there like a Greek goddess, I slowly dried her
with the bathroom towels. Her breasts and vulva were touched
often, but softly. She stood like a statue; her eyes closed.
I quickly dried myself and led her from the bathroom to the
bed. I helped her into the bed. She lay on her back; her legs
spread open to me, her eyes closed. She was beautiful; her
body perfect.
I lay next to her and kissed her. Her lips immediately opened
and our tongues met. We probed each other, each thrust stronger
than the last one. I broke from our kiss and went to her breasts.
My tongue circled her nipples…finally I teased her nipples.
Just before moving lower; I licked a broad stripe with my
flat tongue over each nipple. Jill moaned and arched her
body as if she had no control.
My tongue moved down her stomach and played with her belly
button and then my tongue fucked her belly button. Finally
my tongue reached her inner thighs. Her legs were open,
but I pushed them wider. Her hair was trimmed as if for a bikini.
I licked around her hair and then went to her outer lips.
My finger explored her. I found her opening and penetrated
her with one finger, then two. Her breath had a sudden intake
and then she moaned. My fingers withdrew from her and parted
her outer lips. My tongue went into her; first the wet side
walls with my full tongue, then my tongue penetrated her
vagina with quick in and outs. I lifted her with my hands
so that my tongue went beyond her vagina to almost her asshole.
I licked and she screamed, “God, I can’t help it…finish
I grabbed a pillow and lifted her and placed it beneath her
hips. She was now fully exposed to me and positioned so that
I could penetrate her to the fullest. I took her legs and
put them above my arms as I slowly slid into her. She was wet
and moaning. For minutes I moved in and out, each time driving
deeper into her. I felt her vagina pulsating, squeezing
my penis as I penetrated her. The rhythm became more intense
as Jill’s body craved release; and I was not far behind.

Suddenly Jill gasped, “I’m coming.” That guttural scream
of primal passion was the final switch. We came together–Jill’s
body tried to get me deeper into her and my body tried to penetrate
her even more. Jill cried my named and clutched at me. It
was a moment of passion that I had rarely experienced before.
Eventually, the lust left us exhausted. I turned Jill’s
body so she was facing away from me and then moved my body
into her back like a spoon. My fingers lightly played with
her nipples and her hands covered my hands encouraging
the touching. I said, “One of my faults is that I don’t say
how I feel. I don’t want this to pass without me telling you
that it was wonderful. You are beautiful–you and your body.
Thank you for sharing it. I hope you enjoyed?
Jill said softly, “I never talked about sex with my ex. Sometimes
I came and sometimes I didn’t, but I never told him. What
you just did to me was wonderful; I can’t describe the feelings
of my body as you played with me. And then you were in me and
I could feel your penis pulsating and my vagina trying to
clutch you and the world ended. It can never be better than
I continued to rub her breasts, her shoulders, and her stomach
as the comfortable silence filled the room. She occasionally
took my hands and squeezed them before directing them to
some other part of her body that needed attention.
At some point I felt my body start to react to this sensual
touching. My erection, if not at full length, was coming
back. I moved closer to Jill positioning my penis between
her legs and started moving up and down searching for the
opening. I felt Jill as she moved her body to permit access.
As my penis found her tunnel my fingers found her clit. I
moved into her and played softly with her clit. Her cheeks
moved in rhythm with me as I pushed deeper and deeper into
her. My fingers teased her faster. She came in a series of
thrusts as she tried to get more of me. Her second climax
was less than the first, but maybe more filling. But I will
never know. I did the typical male thing; while still in
her, I fell asleep.
I woke up in the morning to an empty bed. The clock said eight
o’clock. I heard the toilet flush and Jill walked into the
room. She was naked. She was beautiful. She came up to the
bed and said, “I have to go to my room and get ready for the
trip home. Will you be ok?”
I replied, “Of course.”
Jill leaned over and kissed me before saying, “Everything
that happened last night you did for me. I did nothing for
you. You were wonderful, and I didn’t contribute.”
I protested, “That’s not true Jill. You were fantastic.”
Jill ignored me. She pilled the sheet down covering my body
and straddled my knees. My erection had already started.
She cupped my balls and played with them. Her tongue licked
the pre-cum from the tip. She copied my action of the night
before by pulling a pillow from the bed and pushed it under
my ass so that I was more fully exposed to her. Her tongue
went down my shaft and then her mouth encircled one of my
balls and then the other. She licked them and went lower;
her tongue played with the bottom of my balls to the start
of my asshole. I had never had that happen to me before, and
the erotic feeling was intense. I gasped, “Jill, you’re
killing me.”
Her mouth came back to my penis. She looked up at me and I saw
her; green eyes, beautiful breasts with nipples erect
and swollen. Her mouth swallowed me. Her motion began,
but her deep green eyes continued to stare into my eyes;
her mouth went up to the tip of me and then took me down into
the depths of her throat. I felt myself coming and whimpered
a warning. She ignored it. I came with a violent first spurt
of cum deep into her mouth. She swallowed and I gave her more.
She took it all; none escaped her mouth.
I lay exhausted. She stood up and grinned at me. Finally
she said, “I have to go to my room and get dressed for the ride
home. I hope you are sitting next to me.”
She quickly left and I showered. We met in the lobby at ten
o’clock; took the shuttle bus to the airport, and boarded
our replacement plane. I made sure we were sitting together.
She was close to panic as the replacement 747 revved up its
engines prior to take off. After maybe 30 minutes into the
flight at thirty thousand feet, she finally released her
death grip from my hand. I finally was served my Jack Daniels
on the rocks ordered a day ago and Jill had her white wine.
Forty-five minutes and two wines later Jill looked at me
and said, “I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to go to sleep
on you.” And she slept.
I watched her sleep for hours. Her face, her body, her smell.
But then I worried. A million clich├ęs game to mind: ‘Two
ships passing in the night, ’ ‘a one night stand, ’ ‘relationships
that start in extreme conditions, never are successful.’

I woke her two hours out of San Francisco. They served a light
snack and then preparations were made for landing. I was
perplexed. There was no time to talk to Jill seriously.
When I started, the stewardess came up with duty free shopping.
I would start again and the pilot would make some announcement.
We landed and I didn’t know where I was with Jill. We had exchanged
phone numbers and addresses (She lived in San Diego), but
my phone book was full of names and numbers and addresses
of one time meetings–would this be another.
We landed with Jill clutching me. We went through immigration
and customs together and then down to baggage. The airport
was crowded and smelly and noisy; there was no place to talk.
As the baggage came around I spotted my suit case, and then
Jill pointed out hers. I grabbed them both. We stood facing
each other. Finally I said, “Jill that was the most wonderful
twenty-four hours in my life. I hope we can see each other
again.” I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, and then
on her lips. When we kissed my eyes were open and looked into
her eyes. Then her eyes became moist and a tear rolled down
her cheek.
I turned to go and she said, “Wait.”
She came up to me, put her hands on my shoulders, looked into
my eyes and said, “Take me home with you.”

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I just loved this story!!! And I'll be sure to read each
and every one you write.


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I always look forward to your articles. Your writing lulls
me into a very sensual state.


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thanks from us both for a very nice story. We hope that for
you that there it is some truth in the story.


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WOW, I felt so much emotion in this story.Yes, great sex
but something much more....