Jet-lagged from the red-eye, I swiped my keycard into the transit hotel near the airport. Valise wheels rumbling down the carpeted hall, past humming ice machines and distant runway roars. Room 412 overlooked the tarmac—planes taxiing under floodlights, a neon city skyline flickering beyond. Anonymity hit hard: no one knows me here, gone tomorrow. Dressed killer in my tight blue dress hugging lace panties underneath, white heels clicking, fresh mani-pedi, dancer updo, killer perfume. Mirror said sex bomb. But hubby sulked at the reception bar, pissed I shopped solo this afternoon.
Evening dragged. No Eliane or her smug husband yet. Bored, champagne fizzing untouched. Hubby played cowboy with some drunk. Fuck that. I hit the dance floor—empty save teen girls. Solo adult, I owned it. Hands tracing curves to hungry stares, arms high, belly dance twisting my dress up thighs, bass thumping over jet engine whines outside. Hubby glared. Score. He dragged me over smiling for show, introducing Marc—cute, chatty single from the barstools.
The Stopover
Flirting revived my bear. Kisses, wandering hands, whispers. Marc watched, knee brushing my crotch as I sandwiched between fixed stools. Perrier ordered, he chatted regions vivaciously, but his hand gripped his knee—pushing against my mound. Ballsy. Fingers crept to my inner thigh. Recoil blocked by his other leg. Shocked glare met his grin. Hubby oblivious, deep in talk. His palm flattened my belly, hiking dress fold by fold. Goosebumps as fingers hit lace, then pubes. Delicious press on panties. Hidden from view, I craved more. He twisted futilely, inches from clit. I teased, smirking, legs firm.
Eliane burst in glowing, hubby softer. She’d rocked new ‘do and our shopped sexy dress—hour delay? Wild fuck. Details lit my fire, Marc’s tease smoldering. Group laughed at table, Marc opposite, eyes locked. He signaled: spread. Smiling, I did—thighs parting under dress, blue lace flashing. He trembled, voice cracking. I licked lips, blew kisses, hands gliding thighs, teasing shut then open. He bolted for ‘friend,’ beckoned from emergency door.