Hey folks, another year has come and gone. Merry Christmas
My name is Clinton Conners. I'm thirty-five years old and at the beginning of this story, I was confused, and pissed off. Those were, however, the only things I knew about my situation. Of course, there were other things going on in my life, but at the time I was blissfully unaware of how stupid I was.
As I looked around the small airport terminal, I was still wondering how the hell my boss had convinced me to be there at that moment, doing what I was doing.
It was a Fall Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving, and everyone else who worked for our company, like most of America, had the day off.
Yet, there I stood in that tiny terminal, waiting for an even tinier plane that would take me North into Canada. My goal was to secure a deal with a small Canadian manufacturing concern that might be able to subcontract some of our parts.
The company, Northstar Manufacturing supposedly had extremely new, state of the art CNC and robotics manufacturing systems that were more advanced than anything we had and anything in our area.
From what I'd been able to find out from people who dealt with them, the company had only five or six employees. I wasn't totally sure about how a company that small would be able to handle the volume of parts that we needed. But my boss was adamant that I go up and scope out their operation.
I can still remember the conversation that had pulled me away from the holiday celebration I'd been having the evening before. In a way, I'd been happy for the distraction. The eight of us; me, my wife, Katie, my brother Chuck and his wife, Annie, my parents and Katie's parents, had just begun my mother's favorite topic of discussion.
"So when am I going to get some grand kids out of the two of you?" she'd asked. Her question had prompted Katie's mom to join the topic in full agreement.
Everyone looked at me. The smirk on my father's face told me that he was enjoying the sight of me squirming under my mother's relentless questioning.
Just as I began to open my mouth to shift the blame to Katie. The phone rang. Katie, with nearly preternatural skills dove for it, taking the phone into the kitchen with her. Her supercilious grin let me know that she had purposefully abandoned me to the maternal inquisition.
However, only a few seconds after her triumphant exit, she came back into the room, frowning.
"It's for you, Honey," she said handing me the phone. "It's Frank."
Frank referred to Frank Walters, my boss and the owner of the engineering firm I worked for. Only Frank would call me on a holiday, at dinner time. Frank lived, ate, and breathed work. He had probably worn his way through all of his relatives and had turned to me to continue discussing whatever project he had dreamed of next. For once I was glad he thought of me.
"Yeah Frank. Happy Thanksgiving to you too," I said into the phone.
"Clint, my boy, I've been thinking," he said. "Look I don't want to ruin your Turkey Day, but I need you to come to the office tomorrow morning. I have another brilliant idea." Even as I hung up the phone, I knew that I was going to hate his brilliant idea.
But I used the phone call as a distraction. I pretended that I had to go to our home office to receive an important e-mail. In the privacy of the office, I checked my personal mail and played a few games until I heard the sounds of at least one set of parents preparing to leave.
I came down the stairs just in time to see the door closing behind them and my parents getting ready to leave as well.
"I can't believe he calls you on the holiday," said my dad, "What a slave driver."
"Yeah but someday, I'll take over for him," I said. "He has no sons and his daughter has no interest in the business."
"She'll probably marry someone who will though," said my dad.
"Not many chances of that," I said. "She's pretty firmly on the gay side of things."
"Well maybe her lover will be interested in the business anyway," said dad.
"It won't matter," I countered. "Frank is as homophobic as they come. There is no way he would turn the business over to a lesbian."
"I just hope Frank appreciates all of the dedication and commitment that you show," said my dad finally.
Anyway, this morning I found myself in Frank's office listening as he outlined this little jaunt into Canada. Completion of this trip is going to earn me a bonus and a company-paid trip to Hawaii for Katie and me.
One of the things I liked about Frank was the fact that he asked a lot of his employees, but he gave a lot in return. This trip, for instance. He arranged for me to fly on a small, private, business carrier. It was a first class, luxury jet that carried no more than fifteen passengers at a time. I would avoid long lines at check in. All the seating on the plane was supposedly comfortable and well appointed. And there would be no screaming children or problem passengers to avoid or deal with.
Frank had also arranged for a first-rate hotel room with all of the amenities. He had even told me that I could take Katie along.
Katie had looked at me sympathetically when I told her and just shook her head. "Not gonna happen, Cowboy," she smiled. "I love you to pieces, Honey. And I hate the fact that you have to do this on your break. But just remember, you're working hard now, so later, when we're older, we can have a wonderful early retirement and travel the world together. However, be that as it may, tomorrow is Black Friday. There is no way I'm missing all of the sales to go traipsing around in Canada with you. So call me frequently and get your ass back to me as soon as you can; but I am not going with you."
Thus far the entire day had gone smoothly. It had yet to snow, which was unusual for a November in Michigan. The temperatures were in the upper forties and low fifties, so I was taking advantage of the situation and still driving my Mustang. I had enjoyed the fact that the airline offered indoor, secure parking. It made me feel confident that my Mustang would be safe and looked after while I was away.
I was actually only going to be away for two days, but I still worried about my car. However, with that worry taken care of, all I had to concern myself with was the task ahead of me.
The procedure for boarding the plane was different. I simply showed up at the hangar at the time the plane was supposed to take off. There was no ticket. I simply presented my driver's license as ID. A woman checked my name off of a list, and I got onto the plane.
There were several people already on the plane. Two of them, sitting separately, were your typical dark suited business types. Both already had their heads in their laptops and scarcely looked up as I entered the cabin.
Another pair, were obviously a business man and his secretary. It appeared they were traveling on business. However, their expressions spoke differently.
There was a gray-haired older woman, reading a magazine. And last but not least there were a couple of guys who seemed to be some sort of technicians.
I took a seat in the middle section of the plane, mostly because it was away from everyone else.
A few moments after I sat down, a loud mouth older guy with two younger men, who were obviously his subordinates got on. They talked loudly about every subject that came to mind.
Several of the other passengers looked up at them, but the older guy with them only glared back. He was obviously too rude to take any notice of the discomfort of others around him.
Just as the woman with the list checked over it one more time and made a visual head count, another woman slipped through the doorway. Almost every head snapped around as she came in.
She wasn't anything like Katie. She wasn't anything like any of the girls I had ever dated. Katie was taller, thinner, much more my type. Or so I thought until that moment. But within less than a second of glimpsing that woman, my opinion changed. I also felt a flash of anger.
After seeing her, Katie suddenly seemed, unfinished ... or to frame it in third-grade mathematical concepts, my wife suddenly seemed ... Less than.
Suddenly, Katie's firm pert breasts just weren't enough. A couple of years ago, Katie had gotten a boob job. She didn't do it to make them bigger. Most of the women in Katie's family had those deflated, upturned, flap-Jack breasts. Katie got hers rescaled to make them while not bigger, just fuller.
She needn't have bothered. The woman who'd just gotten on the plane made all of those types and comparisons, moot. Although she was covered all the way up to her neck, there was no disguising the magnitude of the flesh under her blouse.
Although it was clear that she was wearing a bra that had probably been designed by a structural engineer. Her ... You couldn't even call them breasts. The only word that fit was titties. There was almost something primal about them. Breasts just didn't seem applicable. Breasts are those tiny or moderate, protuberances on the front of a typical woman.
These were like tiny planetoids. They had their own gravitational fields that drew the interest of everyone in their vicinity. Anyway, whatever contraption she wore to keep them immovable, was barely functioning. Those tits might be contained, but they would never be restrained.
.... There is more of this story ...