Airport Sex? – Well almost

There are over 26 flights to the UK from Dublin every day. That’s a lot of flights. And as with anything that there’s a lot of – there’s more chances that something will go wrong.

Nothing drastic – just delays or cancellations.

 

I know this because I fly to the UK a lot. I used to fly there a lot more when the last person I was in love with lived there. And this is one of those short stories.

 

It was Friday, I was going to see him and we were going to Cornwall for the weekend. I worked all day then headed to the airport. The flight was delayed 30 mins. Then an hour, then two hours then cancelled altogether. It was an absolute shambles of no information. Eventually I saw people running off back towards check in. I didn’t know why they were running but I went with them. You could get on another flight, it seemed, to somewhere else in the UK if there was space. So I got on another flight and got him to drive to meet me.

I’ve no idea where I flew to but it wasn’t London and it was somehow on the way to Cornwall and he drove there to meet me.

I’m not someone who usually forgets where she is or why but I’m pretty sure what happened when I arrived is what wiped it from my memory.

 

 

It’s so late when I get there, close to midnight or later and I’ve been travelling since 4:30 that afternoon. I’m pretty worn out. He’s in some parking lot and I tell him to stay there, I’ll come find him. I get on the bus that takes you out into the acres and acres that make up international airport carparks. He’s thankfully parked right by one of the stops.

I get off the bus and see all 6’4” of him standing there. His hands in his pockets, his head cocked to one side and that crooked little smile of his. Calm and relaxed and like I’m the answer to any question he has right now. It’s August and it’s warm and his t-shirt is suitably tight against his not inconsiderable chest. “Hello little darlin” he says in his hybrid accent. I’m about to slouch forward into him and fall against that solid chest I love but I don’t. I drop my bag and I run at him and launch into his arms. He catches me and lifts me higher, he always did this, so that he had me way above him; then he let me slide down his body until my lips reached his and he’d hold me there. Fuck he was strong and I never took it for granted, can I please have that on my permanent record? He eventually let me down to the ground but the damage had been done. I was aroused and he was hard. We stood there kissing harder and groping until I broke away. I grabbed my bag which he swiped out of my hand with a tut, never letting me carry it, and swung it over his shoulder and grabbed my waist and nodded in the direction of the car.

 

He goes to get his keys out and as soon as he has it open and has thrown in my bag I push him back against the unopened back door. I kick his legs apart and look him in the eye. He knows what’s up he just doesn’t know how much. I keep staring at him, devouring his retuned desire and while keeping one hand pressed into his chest, I take the other and feel his cock through his jeans. My hand on his chest, pressing him up against the car is really redundant, he has no interest in stopping me from doing what I’m doing. I go back to kissing him while his cock gets ever harder in my hand. He has his hand on my arse and is kneading it, pulling me into him but I need more and I’m going to have it, right here and now. I break off from kissing him and stare wantonly into his eyes and without breaking eye contact I open his jeans and pull out his cock. For the first time he looks around with the tiniest hint of a shy smile, as if to see if anyone’s looking. I don’t care I want his cock in my mouth. It’s late at night, it’s dark and the chances are I will never be here again. For his part, it’s only with hindsight that I realise that outdoor sex is always one of his turn-ons where as I couldn’t give two shits. I’m not worried about anyone seeing, I don’t really care, it’s just not a turn on for me. And the whole getting caught thing? No interest.

But right now at this moment? I just want his cock in my mouth. I want to be on my knees, between his legs and to hear that noise he makes when he throws his head back and says “Oh God” when I take him all in my mouth.

 

I keep eye contact with him as I slowly drop to my knees and I smile at him just before I reach my tongue out to taste the tip of it, before sliding it all in. And he keeps looking down at me until he feels it hit the back of my throat and then he says it, and his head tilts back both his arms outstretched along the side of the car. He hasn’t seen me in two weeks and he is lost for a moment but not for long, he regains himself as I work up and down his shaft getting him nice and wet. He reaches down with one hand looking for my tits and another finding its way into my hair. “Fuck I missed this…” he trails off but I know soon enough he’s going to pull me up and try to get at my pussy, because that’s what he always wants, his mouth on it. I stand up to kiss him and he swings me around and presses me against the car, he kisses me deeply while tearing open my top. He has his mouth on my tits, and his hands in my jeans trying to get inside my wet swollen lips. I can barely stand it, they’re tight skinny jeans and he cannot reach what I want him to. I shimmy them down a bit thinking he can get a hand in better but he smiles a wicked smile and gets on his knees. Now this isn’t what I want; I love head from him but I struggle to relax and while I’m happy to give head in public I’m not so sure I want to get it. I am ravenous for him though and my mild protests are roundly ignored. He can easily keep me pinned where I am as he gets his tongue inside my lips and up to my aching clit. He sucks at it and goes back to the lips, lapping either side and darting back to my clit. I am still futility half pushing him off with equally half-hearted pleas to stop. Another bus then approaches and I insist. I pull him up from what he’s doing and kiss him, trying as always to taste myself. He knows I don’t get off on this but he also knows how much I want him right now. When the bus passes he turns me round and tries to fuck me from behind. I want this, and I want it like this; me slightily bent and him pounding into me, holding my hips for dear life but we can’t get the angle right. There’s nothing for it but to get in the car.

 

He sits in the back seat and I climb on top of him. He has my top open and has access to my tits, I am soaking wet and I go at him with an energy I didn’t think I had. Everything is working, every angle is perfect, every sense is aroused. I lower myself onto his cock and squeeze it. I work up and down on it just to tease us both as I know as soon as I let go there will be no stopping me. It feels tight and full. I sit properly down on him and kiss him deeply then start to rock back and forward on him, I’m so wet and he’s so hard. I can feel my clit being pressed perfectly, I know that a massive orgasm is building and I won’t be able to stop. I grind down harder on him, with my hands holding on to the back of the seat at either side of his head, I hold on and fuck as hard as I can. My feet are planted either side of his hips, where I’d usually have my knees flat, but in this position I have way more purchase and I rock and grind and fuck until I think I’m going to pull the seat up. I can no longer kiss him as my head is flung back and I know I’m shouting my moans of genuine ecstasy. And he holds on tight to my arse and holds himself rigid so I can work him and make us both come. I have a huge orgasm and milk his cock and he grunts ‘Oh god don’t stop’ and 30 seconds later he shoots into me. I collapse forward and he bites my neck with an open mouth, barely able to breath.

 

 

The frustration of the flight bullshit is wholly worth it for having brought about that airport carpark fuck.

 

I know we chatted animatedly for a little while and then I know he drove through the night and got us to Cornwall. I slept in the passenger seat like a baby. I caught him looking at me a few times in the mirror, with a little smile. For that little time he seemed like the world’s most contented man.

 

 

That was possibly one of our last good memories.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *