It happened in the wee hours last Friday.  I was on a business trip.  He was a local.  That’s when we met for the first time.  He was a stocky but gentle man - very patient and understanding.  Younger than I, but very much in control of me.  He stood in front of me and told me exactly what he was going to do to me.  Then he walked behind me, looking at my body as he moved.

He gently rubbed my shoulders.  Moved his hands down my arms.  He slipped his fingers beneath my shirt collar and then inside the waste band of my jeans.  He ran his hands down the inside of each of my thighs, talking to me as he rubbed and explored my body.

Then he stood in front of me.  Our faces moved closer together.  We looked into each other’s eyes.  Our lips were only inches apart  when he uttered those words I had longed to hear, “Okay, sir.  You may gather your belongings and continue to your gate.  Your plane is boarding now.”

“Thank you,” I said.  “This is really no fun for you, huh?”

“No, it’s not,” he said.  Then he smiled at me one last time, winked and playfully pat my stomach with his right hand.  I don’t know what the hell that tummy tap was all about, but I think we’re having drinks next week.

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