Most of the time, people barely think about why they do things. You find yourself in a situation and have a choice to make, and you make it. That leads to more decisions and before you know it you're doing things that might make no sense at all, or all the sense in the world. But sometimes you find a person who knows exactly what they're doing.

I was on a Monday morning flight from Philadelphia to Dallas. It was October, and I was hoping for warmer weather in Texas. Most of the passengers had boarded and it was nearly time to close the door when a family got on. A mother and father, a whole pack of kids... four but it looked like more, none of them over nine and an older couple I was guessing were grandparents. The mother and the two youngest kids were in the row ahead of me, the grandparents were across the aisle and a row up with a little girl between them, and the oldest child, a boy, was sitting in front of his mother on the aisle. The father was about ten rows forward, by himself.

This struck me as unfair. The grandparents were doing what they could to help settle the kids, all of them screaming and complaining, but they were pretty old and it wasn't really their job. The mother was passing out coloring books, telling the kids that the captain wouldn't take off if they didn't keep their shoes on, and trying to shove backpacks and stuffed animals into the jammed overhead space.

The mom plopped into her seat just as the flight attendant started the safety instructions, and though the kids were still loud they were all buckled in. I pulled out the inflight magazine and started to read a story about restaurants in New Orleans. I had no interest in going there but reading about Creole cuisine beat the hell out of thinking about takeoff. About that huge aluminum sausage of a jet, weighed down with tens of thousands of pounds of people and luggage, hurtling down the runway with stubby little wings for lift.

We made it into the air and I waited until they gave the 'electronic devices' all clear that let me get out my laptop. About the same time, the mom from the seat in front of me was in the aisle trying to break up a fight between her oldest kids. Then she started passing out boxes of raisins and Cheerios from one of the bags in the overhead storage.

The kids were saying they wanted Fruit Loops, demanding their Gameboys, and the grandmother was whining about when the flight attendants were going to start serving coffee. My sympathy for the mom was rising fast, and then the dad showed up.

"Let me know if you want to sit up front, okay?" he said, sounding like he was pretty sure she wouldn't take him up on the offer. The mom just nodded and smiled.

"Hey, babe. Did you pack my car magazines? They aren't in my case," the dad said. Then he picked up the miniature box of Cheerios in front of one of the kids and started stuffing handfuls in his mouth. If you looked up "beefy" in the dictionary, this guy's picture should be next to it. About five foot eight and two-twenty, his hair was a little too long, blow-dried straight back from his forehead. He was wearing a mock turtleneck sweater and body jewelry. Even if we hadn't gotten on the plane in Philly, I'd have guessed that was where he was from. Yo, Adrian.

"Did you check the side pocket?" the mom asked, in a voice that told me she would bet her first born on them being there. The dad looked at her and shrugged.

"You got any more of these?" he said, holding up the empty cereal box.

As he trundled back to his seat, I studied the mom. In a word, she looked harried. Too pale, hints of bags under the eyes, she'd probably been up an hour and a half before anyone else that morning organizing this caravan of whiners. She was as tall as her husband. Wearing a pair of traditional cut generic jeans, the kind that are too dark and don't fade no matter what you do to them, and a colors of the rainbow cotton sweater with horizontal stripes that looked like someone shrunk it in the wash. Her hair was shoulder length, reddish brown, and though I guessed it had been permed at some point it looked like she'd given up on it, at least for this trip.

I turned my attention to my laptop. I pulled up the messages I'd downloaded before I left, decided that there were too many to bother with and punted. I opted for a game of Solitaire.

I kept re-dealing until I had two aces showing and was about to start playing when something bumped my shoulder. It turned out to be the butt of the mom on the trip from hell, and since it was six inches from my face I decided to check it out. A little too wide, but not as big as I first thought. She was carrying at least an extra ten pounds but her ass still had a nice look to it. Not exactly heart-shaped, but it hadn't dropped yet, either.

She was digging in one of the bags in the overhead, looking for Gameboys judging from the noises coming from the rows ahead. Her kids sounded like baby birds in a nest squawking for food - "Mom! I want Frogger! Mom! The blue one is mine! Mom!" Stretching for a rear compartment in the bag hiked her sweater up at the waist, exposing a pretty nice lower back. She had more of a roll at the hips than she probably wanted, but I'd always kind of liked that.

The guy in the window seat in my row decided to hit the can, so I had to get up to let him out. By the time I sat down again, the mom had shifted her search to a bag in the overhead on my side. Now it was her tummy that was six inches from my face, the sweater riding up enough to show off her belly button. The first one I'd seen on a woman in a while that didn't have a piercing. Her stomach pooched out over the waistband of her jeans just enough to look soft and inviting, and she had a cute little beauty mark just above her right hip. She hadn't spent much time in the sun lately.

She moved to the next bag back in her search and had to really stretch for this one, leaning her hip against the edge of my seat for support. She was so intent on her Gameboy search that she was oblivious of me, and I was struggling to focus on my game of Solitaire. Let's see... black ten on the red jack. I could smell her skin, clean with a scent of body lotion. When I leaned my head back I could see under the bottom of her sweater.

Her ribs were nicely insulated with more creamy pale skin, and above that I could see the bottom of her bra, a sensible white full-coverage number that had me guessing Maidenform, or whatever the store brand was at Target. A soccer-mom bra.

I glanced up and she was looking at me. Busted! I knew enough not to panic and overreact. I just smiled, embarrassed, and shrugged a little. She stopped stretching, instead pulling the inaccessible bag down from the overhead. As she did it, she continued to look at me. The odd thing was, she didn't look offended. More like surprised. She broke eye contact with me and returned to her seat. I went back to my Solitaire, feeling like a high school kid caught looking up skirts in the stairway.

After my game and a cup of lukewarm airline coffee, I decided to do a little work. I prepared responses to a couple of dozen e-mails and stored them for when I landed and logged in. Then I pulled up monthly investment reports that showed decent results for a change. As I was finishing the September reports something hit my foot. It was a fluorescent purple marker, missing its lid. I picked it up. The tip smelled like grapejuice. I tapped the soccer mom on the shoulder.

"Hi. Is this yours?"

She leaned out into the aisle and turned, and gave me a nice smile. "Yes, sorry." She took the marker. I expected her to turn away but she didn't. Instead she looked at me, appraising.

"I hope my kids aren't too noisy." Another smile.

"Not at all. I've got nieces and nephews. You look like you've got your hands full," I said. She rolled her eyes.

"I feel like a tour guide," she replied.

"Going to Dallas?" I asked, wanting to keep her talking.

"Austin. We're driving from Dallas. My husband wanted to use frequent flyer miles and there weren't any direct flights."

I nodded, thinking that the extra logistics were no big deal for Mr. Let Mom Do Everything up in row six. "Vacation?"

"Not exactly. We've got some meetings and my husband's folks are along to help watch the kids."

I nodded again. For the next half-hour I talked to the woman. Light, airplane travel talk about the area in Philly where they lived, her kids and all their activities. Soccer and piano for all but the youngest one, and cheerleading for the oldest girl, who was seven. I told her that I worked for a trust management company, and that I lived in Charlotte, Virginia but had been travelling to Philly almost every week for a couple of months. After a while she swiveled in her seat and talked to me through the gap in the headrests. She was about my age - thirty - and she was pretty. She looked a little bit like Rachel Ward in Against All Odds - with a strong face and expressive eyes. Or rather what Rachel Ward would have looked like if she'd been taking care of four kids, a husband and in-laws and didn't have a make-up person following her around. She was nice, and smart, and easy to talk to. I loved her smile, and the way she tossed her head back a little when she laughed.

Finally the grandmother across the aisle asked my new friend for a juice box for the kid she was tending, and shot me an angry look. She was annoyed with her daughter-in-law for having an adult conversation, apparently.

Anyway, we landed safely and I waited while my soccer mom friend passed out backpacks to the older kids and shouldered a couple of carry-ons. Before she filed off the plane she turned.

"I really enjoyed talking to you. Thanks," she said.

"I should thank you. You made this a pleasant flight," I replied. This seemed to please her, and she gave me a nice smile before heading up the aisle herding her rug rats. I followed, studying her ass. I decided that it wasn't too big at all, just ample. And she had hips that were made for child-bearing that moved nicely when she walked.

The Dallas airport has decentralized baggage claim areas by each cluster of ten or fifteen gates. Ours was only a hundred feet or so from our arrival gate. I stopped at a pay phone with a data port and uplinked my laptop to my company's server to send and receive e-mails. Then I hit the restroom, mainly to give my luggage time to be transferred.

The baggage was on the carrousel but I didn't see mine. On the other side of the room I could see the family from the plane. They were piling luggage on one of those rental carts, and the kids were running around like they were possessed. After a while the dad and grandfather walked off toward the rental car counters. No more bags were arriving - mine was apparently lost. Second time that month. I walked over to the airline baggage office and got into line. Through the glass I could see the soccer mom, guarding their cart. The grandmother was missing. The mom looked over at me and gave me a funny little self-conscious wave. I waved back.

I got to the front of the line and told the guy what my bag looked like and where I was staying in Dallas. As he looked for my claim number in their computer, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was my friend from the flight, looking nervous.

"I... uh, just wanted to thank you again," she said, then turned quickly to check on her kids. We stared at each other for a second. She stuck out her hand and I shook it. Warm and strong.

"I'm Jennifer... Jenny."

"I'm John."

"Listen. Talking to you was great. I thought maybe I could give you my phone number. If you're in Philadelphia maybe we could get together... and talk again," she said. She looked over her shoulder. The grandmother was back, looking around for her AWOL daughter-in-law.

Jenny grabbed a luggage form and pen from the counter and scribbled on it.

"We'll be home in a week. I gotta go," she said, backing away.

"Okay. Thanks," I said.

After my meetings were over for the day I checked into the hotel. My luggage still hadn't arrived. Before I hung up my suit jacket I pulled the card that Jenny gave me from the pocket, then sat on the bed and stared at it.

"Jenny. 610-555-3295. Don't call at night."

Damn. It was stupid to have even kept it. I almost left it on the baggage office counter, but told myself someone else might find it and harass her. Of course, I'd walked by dozens of trashcans since and I still had it.

The whole thing was so weird. Jenny didn't seem like the wild type, and besides, I'd practically met her whole extended family. Including four really little kids who could easily get screwed over in the bargain if their mom was playing around on their dad. I threw the card on the desk and went down to the hotel restaurant to have dinner and wait for my luggage to arrive.

My bag arrived around eight-thirty, too late to work out. So I hung around in the bar and sort of watched a basketball game on the big screen television. Mainly I thought about Jenny. She was pretty and fun, and even though she was a little out of shape she had a body that was damned appealing. I kept thinking about that little beauty mark on her hip and how nice it would look if there were no clothes within a yard of it. She had pretty decent tits too, judging from the rounded swells of soft flesh I'd seen pressing against the bottom of her bra cups.

By the time I got back to my room I had a nice buzz from several beers and the rationalizations had begun. Jenny was a grown woman, with the right to make her own decisions. If she chose to take chances with her family it wasn't my job to stop her, right? The last time I checked no one had appointed me the marriage sheriff of Conshohocken, PA. Besides, if I didn't do it someone else would. Someone who might not be as considerate and discrete as me. I might be doing her a favor by calling her. Right?

I decided that I would hold onto her number, even though I probably wouldn't call. She wasn't going to be home for a week anyway, so I had time to think it over.

The week went quickly, since I was on the road for most of it. Dallas, then to Kansas City and Denver. Even though I was busy, I thought about Jenny a lot. The way she moved down the aisle getting off the plane, the way she smiled at me between the headrests, and the nervous look on her face when she came to me in the baggage office. But most of all I thought about the look on her face when she caught me peeking up her sweater. She looked pleased, the surprise quickly turning into a self-conscious glow.

It made me wonder what she'd been thinking, and whether she planned to give me her number then or did it on the spur of the moment there in the baggage claim area when she found herself alone for a moment.

I dated often enough and got my share of action but it was wildly exciting that a woman like Jenny, wholesome and conventional, would take such a big chance on me. Of course, she didn't exactly say she wanted sex and that thought drove me to want to find out. I could just call her. Nothing wrong with that. Maybe we'd just meet for coffee and a pleasant conversation.

I waited until Tuesday. I decided that mid-day was best, when most of the kids were at school and she could talk more freely.

"Hello?"

"Jenny?"

"Speaking," she said, sounding hesitant. Like she thought she recognized my voice but wasn't sure. Or did and was now supremely embarrassed about giving me her number.

"This is John. From the plane?"

"John! I was afraid you weren't going to call!"

She sounded so excited that my awkwardness and jitters vanished.

"You said you'd be gone a week," I replied.

"Right. Are you in Philly?" she asked, almost breathless.

"No, in Charlotte."

"But you're coming here, right?" An edge crept into her voice that was hard to read. Disappointment for sure, but a little of something more.

"Sure. Thursday and Friday," I said, now off balance.

"Then... um... can I see you on Thursday?" Jenny asked. I could feel the nervousness through the phone.

"I guess... yes. But I have to ask you. What's this all about? I was surprised when you gave me your number, Jenny. I mean..."

"I know what you mean." She paused and took a deep breath. "Explaining is hard. It's just that, well, I'm sick and tired of being frumpy, and being the one everyone can rely on, and being taken for granted." She paused again. "When I saw you looking at me on the plane, I saw something I haven't seen in so long. I saw lust... at least I think it was. It was, right?"

"Yeah. It was definitely lust. Sorry," I said. The hell with off balance, now I was knocked back, flat on my ass.

"Don't be sorry. It felt really good. That's what I want."

Wow. Not what I expected, but I was already in too deep to turn back.

"So you want to get together?"

"Yes... if it's okay with you. But it has to be during the day, lunchtime. Is that all right?"

"Sure. Where?" I asked. There was almost no pause. Jenny still sounded nervous but she also sounded determined.

"I was thinking about that. Do you know the Plymouth Road exit off the Blue Route?"

"Almost to the turnpike?"

"Yeah. There's a Holiday Inn there... they have a restaurant. We could meet there. Is that too far for you to go?"

"No... not too far. You said noon?" I asked.

"Right, noon. You'll come, right? You won't change your mind?"

"No. I'll be there. I promise."

"Good! Thank you. Look, I've got to go. See you Thursday!" Jenny said, then she hung up.

I hadn't been 100% sure I was going to Philly that week, but I sure as hell was now. I'd never screwed around with a married woman before and I still felt guilty about her kids, but at some point in the process I'd moved past that. I really, really wanted Jenny and this meeting was as close to a sure thing as I'd ever known.

I flew into Philadelphia on Thursday morning, got my rental car and drove straight to my rendezvous with Jenny. I didn't want to be late and give her a chance to chicken out. I got there close to an hour early, but the restaurant had a coffee shop where I could relax and wait for her. I sat down and picked up a menu, then felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Jenny.

"You're here!" she said, face glowing.

"Yeah. You're early, too." I stood up.

"I didn't know how much traffic there'd be and... oh, hell. I'm so glad you came," Jenny said, then she leaned in awkwardly and kissed me. Just a quick one, but full on the lips, and she held it for a three count before pulling back.

Flustered, I shifted my weight to hide the growing bulge in my slacks. This was going even better than I'd hoped. When she kissed me Jenny's tits pressed against my chest and I felt her nipples poking me like tiny fingertips.

"So, do you want to get a table?" I asked, gesturing toward the dining room.

Jenny frowned, glancing nervously around the restaurant. Looking for familiar faces, I was guessing. "We don't have to. I, uh... have a room at the hotel, maybe we could talk there?"

"Sure!" I said, reeling a little. As we walked out of the restaurant and across the parking area I put my hand on Jenny's shoulder and rubbed it. Soft but firm. Jenny was only a few inches shorter than I was, and she was strong for a woman. Probably from lugging all those kids. She was wearing a light jacket, unzipped in the front, and a pink cotton shirt with a collar with a pair of khaki pants.

Jenny unlocked the door to room 106. I couldn't believe that she got a room. When we were inside she turned and looked at me, waiting, so I kissed her. This one evolved pretty quickly to include spit swapping, plus a lot of hands running over body parts and heavy breathing. When I got impatient with stroking her boobs though the shirt I undid a couple of buttons and slid my hand inside. Jenny twitched a little when my hand touched the much warmer skin above her left breast.

"Should we get undressed?" she asked. She was self-conscious, avoiding eye contact.

"I think we should. Definitely," I said, my brain operating on autopilot, having transferred all decision-making to the throbbing organ that was trying to poke a hole in my slacks. I helped Jenny slide her jacket off and finished with the buttons on her shirt. Whoa! Different bra than on the plane - pink to match the shirt with a little bit of lace and a center clasp, which I love. I popped the clasp and pushed the bra and shirt off her shoulders.

"Jesus, Jenny!" I said, staring.

"You like my boobs?"

"You could say that," I said.

"Please say it. Say you like them," Jenny whispered, taking a step closer.

"You've got great tits, Jenny. I like them." I reached out and stroked the side of right one with my fingertips. They were very pale, round and set wide on her chest, with just enough sag to look real and to jiggle with every movement. Perfect, smooth ivory skin capped with small dark areolas and large, erect nipples.

"You don't have to be so gentle," Jenny said, taking my hand and pressing it open-palmed against her breast. I took over, kneading the silky flesh as Jenny loosened my tie, then pulled it free and went to work on my shirt. I caught a nipple between my thumb and finger, rolling and pinching it gently. Jenny's whole upper body quivered and she steadied herself with her hands on my shoulders. She looked into my eyes, panting a little.

I finished undressing as she watched. When I worked my boxers over my erect cock and let them fall to the floor Jenny wet her upper lip with her tongue, hesitated and then reached out to grab my shaft. She squeezed it a couple of times then stepped back and quickly took off her slacks and panties. Jenny's bush was trimmed neatly leaving more hair than I was used to, but on her it looked great.

We stood there for a moment, both naked, and I don't know about Jenny but I was thinking about how little I really knew her. A half-hour conversation on the plane and a five-minute phone call and here we were.

"I guess this would be easier if we just got started," Jenny said, swallowing hard and looking like she didn't know what to do with her hands.

I nodded. "Okay."

We sat on the edge of the bed and I kissed her again. This time it was more tentative, mainly with the lips, getting used to being close to each other. I put my arm around her back and stroked it, pulling her body against mine. Jenny shifted a little, her breasts rubbing my bare skin before she eased onto her back pulling me with her.

My lips slid to her chin, then her neck, then to the firm flesh of her breastbone. I licked her there and then trailed my tongue around the bottom of one breast, then the other before moving to a nipple. I already knew she was sensitive there and I wasn't disappointed. Jenny moaned and pressed herself against my face.

"You can bite them, a little," she urged. So I did, and as I nibbled and tugged I eased a hand across her tummy and onto her mons. Jenny groaned and moved her knees further apart. Encouraged, I let my index finger find Jenny's slit, moistening the tip in the juices on her inner lips before stroking higher looking for her clit.

Jenny was panting hard now, one knee up a little making jerky, involuntary moves as she reacted to my efforts.

"John. Do you ever... um, go down there and..."

I released her nipple and looked at her, smiling. "Eat pussy? Just try to stop me, Jenny."

"Oh, good! I want that." She started twirling her fingers in my hair as I moved down, stopping at her right hipbone. I rubbed the tip of my nose around the little beauty mark, smelling her skin, before drifting into the hair of her bush and drinking in her aroused scent. I'd long since found her clit with that finger, which was alternatively stroking the hard little nub and sliding into Jenny's pussy up to the second knuckle.

Like a tag team partner my tongue took over. Jenny tasted fantastic and I sucked and nuzzled and lapped at her for all I was worth. I might have lost track of time but before I expected it her thighs were clenching around my face and Jenny was howling, her body flopping around out of control.

"Don't stop... Don't stop," she gasped. I was happy to oblige - I'd barely gotten started.

When my jaw started to get sore and Jenny looked like she'd had enough, her whole body quivering, I moved up her until my hipbones were pressing against her thighs.

"Jenny. I've got... protection. In my pocket." I nodded toward my slacks and started to get up. Jenny grabbed me.

"No... It's okay, I can't have any more kids."

"What about..."

"I'm clean, I promise. And I trust you. It's better this way. Please fuck me."

It didn't take much to convince me, not with my face wet with her juices and my dick aching to bury itself in the hot, wet folds I'd been exploring. I grabbed my cock and worked it over her pussy until I found the sweet spot and let the head glide into her. We both moaned at the same time, my face against the soft flesh at the base of Jenny's neck. Suddenly she stiffened and pulled her head up.

"John, I almost forgot."

"What?"

"I want to try doing it different," she said, glancing between our bodies as I rolled to one side a little.

"How?"

"Get up. On your knees." So I did, even though my cock was practically screaming "No! not out! In! Stick me in there!"

When I got onto my knees Jenny scooted down until her ass was pressed against me, her legs raised and I got the idea. I grabbed her under her knees and lifted, hooking her right leg over my shoulder. Jenny was bracing herself with her arms, nodding.

"Now?" I asked.

"Yeah, now!"

Before she could change her mind again I drove myself into her pussy until my cock bottomed out against her pelvis. I had a pretty good view of it and the sight of us connected like that was fantastic, just the base of my dick showing and our pubic hair touching. Jenny's ass was pressed against my thighs and her breasts were practically against her upraised chin. She was watching me, panting softly.

I got a tighter grip on her right leg and pulled halfway out, then slammed in again firmly enough that all daylight between us disappeared. Jenny dropped her head to the pillow and grabbed the comforter with both hands. I started slowly and transitioned into a steady motion, fucking her hard. From this angle my cock was stroking the sensitive flesh along the top of her pussy and I could work it around a little by moving my hips from side to side as I thrust into her. After a minute or so of that Jenny's juices started to run freely and we got a nice slurping noise going on the downstroke.

"Oh jeeezus! That's it... that's it," Jenny moaned, rolling her head from side to side. I pulled her ass a little higher on my thigh and leaned toward her, Jenny's ample butt cheeks now displayed nicely and my angle of attack just right. I focused on the way her tits were bouncing in unison, the nipples making little circles in the air as I plowed my dick into that hot pussy as fast as I could.

Just as I felt my balls start to tighten, Jenny gave a little, squeaking shriek of pleasure and kicked my calf with her left foot, that leg flailing around as she grabbed her tits with both hands. The sight of the orgasm ripping through her threw me off stride a little but I held the other leg tighter and was just getting my rhythm back when I exploded, cum pumping up my rod furiously as I rammed into her one last time and held it, grinding my thighs against Jenny's ass.

I slumped forward in a wonderful moment of semiconsciousness and the next thing I knew I was on top of her body hugging her hard, my softening cock still buried, Jenny's pussy gurgling, sloppy with our juices.

Jenny hugged me back, and we rocked a little.

"You aren't going to fall asleep, are you?" she asked.

I gave a little laugh. "I don't think so."

"Good." She took a couple of deep breaths. "That was perfect. Exactly what I wanted."

"I'm glad I didn't disappoint you," I said, smiling. Jenny turned her head and looked at me.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just that when I decided to do this... well, there were some things I wanted."

"You don't do them... at home?" I asked, treading on dangerous ground.

Jenny laughed, and hugged me again. "No. Not hardly."

She kissed me, and stroked my cheek with her fingertips.

"Can I tell you something else?" Jenny asked.

"Sure."

"That was the first time someone else made me come."

"Wow," I said, thinking. "So you don't... do this kind of thing..."

She shook her head. "Nope. You're the first."

"Why me?"

"You seemed willing and the timing was perfect and I figured that since I'd never looked worse than I did on that plane, well... it just seemed right."

I rolled off her, hooking an arm around Jenny's shoulders and pulling her against me. I shivered a little.

"Have you got time to get under the covers for a while?" I asked. Jenny looked at the bedside clock. A quarter to twelve.

"Sure, if you want to. We got here kind of early." She looked pleased, probably because I wasn't looking to scramble out of the room as soon as I got my rocks off. We climbed under the covers and wiggled together, our faces close.