Midnight at the Airport

by Scarlett Griffin

Copyright© 2015 by Scarlett Griffin

Erotic Sex Story: Marci was stranded at the airport. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her lying lover Mark. 2 soldiers catch her interest and she decides to have a little fun.

Caution: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   .

Marci was unsure of her surroundings. She knew it was midnight because the big clock right in the middle of the huge terminal told her it was right on the dot of twelve. A vision of Cinderella running down the spiral staircase losing her glass slipper flashed into her befuddled mind like some errant leaf falling outside in the cold autumn breeze. She had a brief moment of "Déjà vu" that made her stop and look behind her to see if she was being followed.

The only person in her line of vision was an old black man running a swab over the symmetrically designed tiles with a sense of never-ending boredom. She sighed in relief but in all honesty she was an unexciting female with no connections to the world of romance and intrigue. She was just plain old Marci Jones from Kalamazoo, Michigan.

Her connection flight out of San Francisco International Airport was screwed up by the bad storms on the other side of the Rocky Mountains and she was doubly screwed because it was far too late to seek accommodations for the night and much too early for breakfast and a cup of coffee. There was a waiting room dead ahead with a number of stranded travelers stretched out on the countless vinyl seats all connected together like strings of black pearls in a sea of frothy beige tiles. That looked so terribly unappealing that she turned on her heel and headed back the way she came being careful not to walk on the wet tiles being washed. Her six-inch heels clicked with authority on the tiles and she liked the sound of echoing assurance driving away the moment of doubt that plagued her like a shroud of depression pressing down on top of her skull.

She glanced down at her cell phone yet again hoping that Mark had sent her a call or a text to apologize for his bad behavior. The blank smiling face looked up at her with derision at her idiotic naïve expectations like it knew something she wasn't aware of. She felt like throwing the thing into the trash but it was like some sort of obscene umbilical cord that tied her to the world around her. The very thought of being without her mobile was like mental torture too harsh to describe. Older people wouldn't understand that feeling because they were pre-communication device zombies who walked around half-dead and without knowing they were out of touch. They were much too engrossed in talking to the people around them and watching boring things like sunsets and sailboats out in the Bay. She felt sorry for them not having a slew of e-mails and texts to scan like normal human beings.

She caught a pair of uniformed soldiers hunched in the corner ogling her ass as she walked by and it made her feel good inside knowing that she still had that something that made most guys take a second look. Marci was undeniably a "hot number" but she needed constant reassurance in the form of such looks and the weak pick-up lines from unlikely admirers. In fact, that was how she had met Mark. She thought of Mark with his "bad boy" good looks and his neatly trimmed moustache that tickled her in places she liked to be tickled. He was probably at home in his dreary little house with his pregnant wife and two small ones tucked away in their beds.

It never occurred to her before but she suddenly realized how envious she was of that scenario of domestic bliss and the fact that he had been screwing his own wife when he had told her in no uncertain terms how unhappy he was at home. She had to admit his story was totally unbelievable now that she picked it apart for flaws. There was no doubt in her mind that he was lying to her with every breath he took but way back deep in her core she had this little voice that kept telling her,

"Maybe he made a mistake but he still loves you and only you. Give him another chance and you will be forever happy."

She went into the ladies and when she arrived in front of the mirror she did her facial repairs and stared at her foolish reflection like looking into the eyes of a stranger. It almost brought tears to the corners of her eyes but she fought them off not wanting to smudge her mascara. This trip to Palm Springs was just what she needed to shake off that sense of having made a terrible mistake.

Marci thought of all those times when she had allowed Mark to do those unusual kinky things to her like she was some call girl designed for his pleasure. She had to admit that most of the time she had enjoyed it as well but looking back on it in retrospect she could see that he must have been laughing at her submissive attitude with absolute glee. She pushed it out of her mind because she was still not happy with negative thoughts about Mark. She wanted to think there was still a chance it was all a mistake and that he would call her with his plans for their future.

Her thong was twisted a bit in the back but she left it alone because it felt kind of nice all jammed in there like a familiar hand riding up and down when she walked. She hoped nobody could tell she was thinking naughty thoughts like that because she liked to project an air of innocence that worked well for her in most situations. Playing the helpless female was lots of fun for her because she found most male reactions was so predictable and terribly amusing when she needed a quick pick-me-up of self-confidence.

The two soldiers were reading some risqué magazines with photos of mostly undressed women to attract their attention. Marci had to admit that at least they knew what they wanted and were not afraid to display their need for sex. She was overwhelmed with that same raw desire but because she was a female she had to play by the rules and pretend it was the furthest thing on her mind. She dawdled by the drink machine which was the only game in town until the snack stands opened at 5:00AM in the morning. It did take single dollars as well as coins and she fed one in to get a cup of coffee with cream and sugar. There was no doubt in her mind that it would be horrid but beggars can't be choosers at midnight in a closed down airport. The machine clicked and she watched it dispense powdered cream and then a dose of white sugar before the hot liquid flowed out like a cow being milked by an invisible force. Unfortunately, there was no cup to receive the offering and it all was sucked up by the nasty looking drain underneath.

 
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