by Jack Spratt

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, Consensual, Fiction, Interracial, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Don is the author of his own misfortune. Volunteering for an assignment, before researching it, wasn't the brightest thing he has done. What starts out as a total screw up, ends on a very high note! It has something to do with a girls' basketball team, and two young teens; Jayden and Chi make the trip worthwhile.

Date of first publication: Friday PM, September 21, 2007

Special thanks to ‘oldfart‘ for his expertise in re-editing and re-proofing.

There is nothing in life that I enjoy more than a two hour layover at O’Hara in Chicago, other than perhaps, a double root canal. Just another wonderful screw up by the logistics department of my employer; they caught me unaware, blindsided me. The urge to kill comes to mind every time I think of them.

It all started out innocently enough. There were a number of interesting postings on the job board: one was in Milwaukee. Since I was currently available, with nothing on my plate, I thought, “What the hell? I’ll volunteer for it.”

Dumb! The clues were all there, screaming at me. The manager nearly fell out of her chair when I mentioned my interest. The size of the travel allowance should have set the alarms off! The company is very generous, and the amount was more than ample, but still I blundered through the minefield of clues oblivious to the potential screw-ups. Like an unguarded quarterback, I didn’t see it coming, I was blindsided.

Leaving the office, plane ticket in hand, I actually felt good about the assignment. My flight was at seven thirty Monday morning. Little did I realize all the tribulations that faced me!

Now, a little about myself: My name is Don Parsons. I’m fifty-two, am widower and an empty nester. My children are all over the country so my job is my family now. I work in the technology industry, a job that, usually, is not demanding, allowing me much time to myself. I love my private time at home and at the cottage. My home is large for my needs but after twenty-three years, it is very comfortable. Besides, it is paid for. Currently between soulful partners, as my interests tend to be towards the younger females, I am very careful with whom I flirt. Still, many mature female acquaintances enjoy my company. So, I am never desperate but being male, I am always looking.

I spent a major part of my weekend gathering the necessary items for the trip. The assignment should be completed in five days, assuming all goes well so I should be home late Friday evening. From prior experience, I always pack three extra days of clothing. Not being familiar with the client’s hardware, it could mean a complete upgrade and, perhaps, the items will have to be shipped in, requiring a longer stay. Like the Boy Scouts, it pays to “Be Prepared.”

Monday started out great. We had the worst thunderstorm in ten years. It had me wondering if it could possibly be an omen of what was to come. As a result of the storm, traffic was down to a crawl. Finally finding a parking spot at the airport, I realized it would have been more prudent to have taken a taxi, considering the distance to the boarding area.

But, the worst was yet to come: going through security. I realize Monday morning is not the ideal time to take a flight. Not only were all the regular commuters in line but most of them were damp from the deluge, tempers were just a little on edge. Attempting to keep my cool, I followed the sheep to the x-ray area, removing my shoes, etc., and putting it all in the tray provided. Then, when I walked through the arch all hell broke loose! Talk about getting everybody’s attention! The security guards had their hands on their weapons, one took a wand to me and cautiously examined every inch of my body. Nothing! They then escorted me to the arch again and had me walk through the second time. Again, nothing! Everyone seemed to heave a sigh of relief and I was allowed to enter the inner sanctum. After twenty minutes, I located my airline departure gate and the correct waiting area for my flight. There were twenty minutes until boarding.

As if I haven’t had enough excitement today, I noticed twenty of my fellow travelers were young girls: all of them are Chinese and all of them wearing their school colors. I was able to glean from their conversations that they were going to a basketball tournament. Lucky me! The word quiet was not in their vocabulary. Any thoughts of having a relaxing four-hour trip had gone out the window, the plane couldn’t be big enough to have any distance needed from this group of girls. The only positive thing was that all the girls that passed by my seat in the waiting area were very beautiful young ladies. It was difficult to assess their bodies in the getups they wore, mostly school jackets and the large school crested sweaters that some enjoy wearing in spite of the heat.

Finally, our flight was called and lining up, like good little children, we slowly boarded the plane. The unit was a mid-size with two seats on my side of the aisle and three on the other. Mine was 14B, an aisle seat. After stowing my carryon, I sat and waited. Not three seconds after getting comfortable, a young Chinese face was looking at me. 14A, the window seat. Standing up, allowing her to pass, her hair brushed my face. The scent she emitted was shampoo and perfume and, even this early in the morning, my John Thomas reacted. Maybe this trip will have some defining moments; wishful thinking.

Finally, movements of the passengers were complete and the plane seemed to be at capacity. For those of you that fly, you know the routine. The flight attendant goes through the same boring speech, first about no smoking, then about the life preservers and oxygen masks. My young seat buddy is all ears as she hangs on every word. Finally, the seat-belt sign came on. Already buckled in, I watched the young lady’s frustration build as she attempted to get her belt to secure.

“Can I help?”


“I will have to touch you, so please don’t start yelling rape.”

She looked at me with her large, brown, drowning pool eyes, concentrating on my words, and then it hit her and a devastating smile appeared.

“I promise I won’t yell.”

Grabbing both parts of the belt, I joined the two at her hip. Her body was very warm. It was necessary to lean over her to do this and as I did, her scent had me wanting more, even at this ungodly hour! My wish was she doesn’t notice my small tent. Once secured, she wiggled a bit.

“Thank you for helping me. This is my first flight.”

“You have nothing to worry about. They usually don’t crash on first flights.”

Again, her eyes are like a deer caught in the headlights and then she gives me that disarming smile again.

“That’s not nice.”

“Just relax. Once we are in the air, it is like riding in a car.”

We heard the engine come to life while the pilot tested the wing flaps. The noise reverberated throughout the cabin and this got a nervous look from my seat mate.

“Nothing to worry about; just sit back and relax. Any loose parts will have fallen off before we take off.”

Again, the look of concern and then she realizes I am kidding. She gives me a dirty look, then smiles.

Finally, we taxied to the takeoff area and waited to be cleared. She watched as other planes took off before us. Eventually, our plane moved forward and then we felt the breaks engage as the engines roared. The torque could be felt throughout the plane as the vibration had the unit shaking, then the rush forward. She grabbed my arm and squeezed as she watched the runway through the window. Slowly, the plane left the tarmac and we felt the rush as we climbed. All through this experience she never let go. Finally, we levelled off. She heaved a sigh of relief and then realized she had been hanging on to my arm.

“I am sorry! As I had mentioned, this is my first flight and I didn’t know what to expect.”

“You did fine, and my arm will regain its circulation before we land.”

Again, the look of confusion, then she realizes I am joking.

“Since we have become so close, we should introduce ourselves. I am Jayden Kimura, basketball player.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Kimura. I am Don Parsons, computer expert in software and viruses.”

“Where are you going, Mr. Parsons?”

“Milwaukee. We have a client with major server problems. Don to the rescue.”

“We will be flight mates; our team is also going to Milwaukee as part of a tournament, we will be there for the week returning Sunday.”

“If all goes well on my assignment I should be returning Friday, but I am not counting on it.”

This started a conversation that lasted nearly an hour. Jayden is fourteen, plays center for her club. She is from a family of five: Two sisters, one younger at thirteen and the other older at fifteen. Neither play basketball, she is the only athlete of the three. This is the first time she has been away from home on her own. The only reason she is allowed to accompany the team is that the coach is a friend of her mother.

Jayden’s hair is a very dark brown, nearing black. It is shoulder length, currently in a pony tail that flips each time she moves her head. Finally, she opens her jacket, displaying just the beginnings of breasts. She is not a big girl but I can only assume she has a well-toned body if she plays basketball. Her sports slacks give no hint of her legs, thighs or bum, being they are that loose fitting type, which seems to be favored by a number of athletes.

Her voice has a musical ring to it. I love watching the movement of her gloss-coated lips. They appear just right for kissing. All the while we are talking, her closeness and scent keeps me semi erect. It takes will power to keep John Thomas from joining the chat. Then, the snap of the com system gets our attention.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/ft / Consensual / Fiction / Interracial /