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How can a woman like Emma still be single? If I can see it, surely other men must also realize how fucking hot she is? Her curvy body, thick thighs, round face, and hazelnut hair are mesmerizing.
We’ve been chatting for half an hour now, and she’s got me swept away already. I’ve never seen someone’s face light up like hers when she talks about plant samples and rare wildflowers. Witnessing this kind of passion in a woman is a big turn-on. And I get it. I have the same passion for my job. I could talk about ingredients, cooking utensils, and seasoning all night. Most people tolerate their job because it makes them money, but Emma clearly loves hers. I admire her for carving out her own path and sticking to what she enjoys.
She takes a sip from her water bottle, a drop of liquid trailing down her chin. I swallow. I’d lick it right off if it were appropriate, but we’re at an airport full of people.
“Oops,” she says and bends forward to grab a tissue from her bag.
My gaze is automatically drawn to her shirt, which has fallen open. I get a full-frontal view of her big boobs, squeezed into a black bra. Damn, her tits look juicy and soft. How would they feel against my tongue?
“Everything okay?” she asks, wiping her chin clean with a tissue.
“Uh-huh,” I say, my voice croaking. I hope she doesn’t notice I’m as hard as a pipe right now.
An announcement comes through the gate’s speakers, letting us know the plane is ready for boarding, but I don’t want to. I’m not ready to say goodbye to this amazing woman.
Emma gets up and swings her bag over her shoulder. “I guess this is it.”
I get to my feet. “Almost. I’ll accompany you to your seat.”
We get in line and keep chatting until we set foot on the plane and make our way to her seat.
She points to an empty one. “This is me.”
“Let me help you with this.” I grab her carry-on bag and put it in the overhead compartment.
“Thank you. So, um... have a nice flight. Thanks for waiting with me. I had fun.”
Behind us, people are getting anxious to get to their seats, so I should stop blocking their way and find my seat. “You too, Emma.” I give her a lame wave before continuing down the aisle.
I’m only three rows behind her, but it seems like we’re miles apart.
She turns her head and peeks over the seats, eyes scanning the plane. Her face lights up when she catches me. “Hi, there.”
“Hello, stranger.”
“Got a comfortable seat?”
I nod. “What about you?”
“As comfortable as one can be on a plane.”
The woman next to me slams her book closed. “I can’t concentrate like this. Why don’t I switch seats with your girlfriend so you guys can talk? At a more normal level.”
“She’s not my—” I start, but the woman is already up and gone.
After some shuffling around, Emma sits herself down next to me.
My heart swells with contentment. “Long time no see,” I say with a grin.
“Right? What are the odds of us ending up together? Next to each other, I mean, not together together.”
She looks as happy as I’m feeling. Is it because we’ll be spending the entire flight next to each other or because she’s glad to be home soon? I don’t know. All I know is I’m going to enjoy every second of this flight.
We talk and laugh straight through the emergency instructions and lift-off. By the time we’re halfway across the ocean, Emma starts yawning, and her eyelids grow heavy.
“You should get some sleep,” I tell her.
“I don’t feel like it.”
I shake my head. “That doesn’t matter. You don’t want to arrive like an exhausted zombie, right?”
“Did you just call me a zombie?” she says with faux shock.
I drape one of those plane blankets over her and smile. “Goodnight, sweet Emma.”
It doesn’t take long before she falls asleep. I’m pretty tired myself, but all I can do is watch her. She looks fucking adorable.
How did I get so lucky as to have met her hours earlier? I’m not a pessimist when it comes to love, but I haven’t yet found the one. Most women I meet these days seek me out at work, knowing all too well who I am and how much money I make. They’re mostly gold diggers, or they want to post a selfie with me on their socials, thinking my success will help them in some way. How? Fuck if I know. I’m not even on social media. I have a social media manager for the restaurant, yes, but not a personal profile.
I also realize that looks shouldn’t be the biggest factor in deciding if a woman is for you, but the ones I attract are all thin Barbie dolls with layers and layers of make-up plastered on their faces, spouting nonsense about algorithms and opportunities and diamonds. I’m more into cute and curvy girls who are smart and genuine. Like Emma.
She adjusts her position in her sleep, her head settling on my shoulder. I close my eyes and smile. This is abso-fucking-lutely perfect.
It doesn’t take long before I fall asleep.
***
I wake from the most amazing dream. Emma was squeezing my hard-on while I sucked on her nipples. We were buck-naked on a blanket somewhere outside with nothing but the sound of a roaring plane engine above us.
I sigh. What a dream. Only... Why do I feel like I’m inside a plane?
My eyes fly open. I’m not dreaming at all. Emma is moaning in her sleep, her right hand gripping my dick. If she doesn’t stop this, I’ll come right here and now. Shit.
I softly nudge her. “Emma, wake up.”
She sleepily lifts her head. She’s so close that I could kiss her. I can only imagine what it would feel like to have our mouths crash together and to suck her tongue raw.
“What time is it?”
“We’re almost there, sleepyhead.”
She smiles, but as soon as she realizes where her hand is, her face falters. “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
Her cheeks are beetroot, and she doesn’t dare catch my eye.
I grab her hand and give it a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. If I’m being honest, I’m flattered. It was nice.”
She puts her head in her hands. “I’m mortified.”
“Emma, please. It’s okay.”
She whips her head to me and whispers. “It’s not okay. I violated you in your sleep. I swear this is nothing like me. I mean, I’ve never even...you know...done that.”
“You’ve never grabbed a guy’s dick on a plane before?” I joke.
“Or...any other place.”
“Oh.” She’s a virgin? And my dick is the first one she’s ever touched? Fuck. That makes me want her even more.
The wheels of the plane touch ground. Emma stares straight ahead as if the answers to life’s questions are scribbled on the seat in front of her.
“It’s okay,” I repeat. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”
She nods, not convinced. Her cell phone dings with an incoming text, and she grabs it like a beacon. “My best friend just parked her car. I better hurry. You know how expensive these airport parking spaces are.”
“Yeah, I do.” I pause while I think about what to say next so she stops fussing over the whole dick-grabbing incident, but I draw a blank.
As soon as the plane doors open and people start filing out, she jumps up and awkwardly waves at me. “See you, Stuart. It was nice meeting you, but I’ve got to run.”
“Emma, wait,” I call after her, but she’s already gone.
Fuck. Now what?