Lady_Kit
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2001
- Posts
- 2,504
Romance, adventure, intrigue; the cover of the paperback I picked up in the airport gift shop promised all three. If the lurid cover art was any indication, a liberal sprinkling of sex would be included for no extra charge. It wasn’t my normal reading material, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. It was the book or yesterdays edition of a local paper; a collection of gossip, journalistic hype and recipes from the heartland that were altogether too “church picnic” for my taste. I leaned more toward Steak Tartar and a fine red wine than "Party Pigs-in-Pokes" & 7-up Punch.
The terminal was small, not much more than a steel barn with chairs and travel brochures, to my eyes it was a pit. I was tired and miserable, and no matter how attractive the local events might be I wasn’t here for the “Sweet Corn Festival” or a tour of the “Museum of Natural Oddities.” I was trying to get home and a series of misadventures and missed connections had landed me in this hell-hole for a six hour layover.
This was the second such airport I’d been in on this final leg of my trip. Mostly I’d been alone, though a few weary travelers, and some that just made others weary, had shared my journey for awhile. I’d barely eaten in the last 24 hours; food in places like this could be questionable, if even edible. Right now I craved a good meal and intelligent conversation like a junkie looking for his next crack fix. I’d given up hope of either one and just settled down with the book and a package of stale crackers when “he” walked into the terminal.
I was out of place in my designer suit and 3 inch heels. A business consultant in a town where the biggest business was Wal-Mart and no one cared about long-term valuation and stock options. He didn’t fit the local profile either and his sudden appearance was far more intriguing than the adventures in my paperback novel. I nibbled a cracker and wondered...
"What's a man like that doing in a place like this?"
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A closed thread to share with BlackBart
The terminal was small, not much more than a steel barn with chairs and travel brochures, to my eyes it was a pit. I was tired and miserable, and no matter how attractive the local events might be I wasn’t here for the “Sweet Corn Festival” or a tour of the “Museum of Natural Oddities.” I was trying to get home and a series of misadventures and missed connections had landed me in this hell-hole for a six hour layover.
This was the second such airport I’d been in on this final leg of my trip. Mostly I’d been alone, though a few weary travelers, and some that just made others weary, had shared my journey for awhile. I’d barely eaten in the last 24 hours; food in places like this could be questionable, if even edible. Right now I craved a good meal and intelligent conversation like a junkie looking for his next crack fix. I’d given up hope of either one and just settled down with the book and a package of stale crackers when “he” walked into the terminal.
I was out of place in my designer suit and 3 inch heels. A business consultant in a town where the biggest business was Wal-Mart and no one cared about long-term valuation and stock options. He didn’t fit the local profile either and his sudden appearance was far more intriguing than the adventures in my paperback novel. I nibbled a cracker and wondered...
"What's a man like that doing in a place like this?"
--------
A closed thread to share with BlackBart