Note: This story is a Harry Lime and Velda Mazursky co-authored story.
Julie liked to fly the red-eye shuttle between DC and New York. It was easy to get taxis from the airports at that time of night. The day in the Nation's Capital had been unusually hectic because of the budget tensions. The entire town was getting down on one side or the other. Bigger government and more services. Or cut back on spending.
Everyone was talking and no one was listening.
It reminded her of the senseless PTA meetings she used to attend with resolute good intentions.
She had been training hard for the marathon the past ten weeks. This afternoon, for the first time, she had completed a 10 mile course in under one hour.
It was her best time in almost a year.
Her running buddy, Jake Wilson, was amazed at the accomplishment. He told her she could probably beat half the guys in the DIA marathon running team. They thought it strange that Jake choose to run with her and not with them in the hilly circuits around the Pentagon.
Ms. Julie Goodlay was 39 years old. Yes, really 39, and not just counting. She had lustrous Golden Red hair that cascaded down to her shoulders in waves of shimmering soft silk. She always wore her high heels, unless she was training and her legs were shapely and finely-toned from her rigorous daily exercises. Her breasts were quite small, which is good for a runner. It helped to keep her long, lean body balanced and ready to turn on a sprint whenever it was needed in a serious race. Because of all the recent heavy training, her buttocks had lost most of their body fat. There was even a concave shape to her heart-shaped posterior.
Seldom did Julie wear makeup, but for appearances sake, she did apply some lipstick and some highlight to her eyes for the flight home.
She grinned to herself.
"Maybe I will meet Mr. Wonderful tonight!"
She was lucky to be early and board before most of the other passengers. The only bag she had was the one with her running gear and a change of clothes. When she got to her row, she saw she had the window seat. She really was never fussy where she sat. Julie noticed that a dark young man was already seated in the aisle seat. He tried to make himself smaller, as she swung in front of him to get out of the traffic in the aisle. She apologized in embarrassment, when her knees rubbed on the outside of his legs.
Quickly, she snapped open the overhead compartment and shoved her bag into it with a firm thrust that lifted her up to her toes and strained her hips to get it all the way inside. She felt a sudden draft from underneath and was startled to see her loosely fitting panties had somehow slipped down to her ankles. Julie's face was beet red as she realized they were right on top of the stranger's shoes. No one in the aisle could see because she was safely standing in the row in front of the widely grinning young man.
Julie was in a predicament.
If she bent down and pulled up the panties, her bare private areas would be visible and quite up close to the unknown stranger. Her only other choice would be to remove them and put them in her purse.
When she tried to do just that, Julie found that her rump was dangerously close to the poor young man's face. She straightened up immediately and tried to shake them off her heels. She was mortified when the dark, good looking man reached down and began to remove the offending panties from her ankles. He rolled them up in a little ball and unobtrusively handed them to her.
"You might need these later."
Speechless, Julie took her seat next to the window.
She remembered that her under things had been getting loose lately. She was down to only 105 lbs. instead of her customary 120 to 125 range. The long run today had probably shaved off another pound or two of body fat. It was time to carb up big time before the race. The weight loss was a problem when training for a marathon and she often found herself swimming in her clothes during the weeks of heavy training. She turned to the helpful passenger sitting next to her.
"I lost some weight recently. I guess they were just too big. By the way, my name is Julie and I so embarrassed. Thank you for helping me."
The handsome man smiled at her and held out his hand. She shook it in gratitude.
"It is of no consequence, Senora. I help my Mamacita many times when she break her leg in the ski accident."
Julie determined that the young man was from a Spanish speaking country and most disturbingly, considered her of an age in his Mother's range. That bothered her even more that the panty incident. She looked at him closely. He appeared to be about 28 to 30 years of age. She was only 39.
"That's only 9 years, for crying out loud."
Of course, this was said silently, to herself.
"My name is Armand. Armand Augustino. I am from Argentina. My Mama is the Cultural Attache in the New York Consulate. I was sixteen when she broke her leg just twelve years ago."
Julie smiled because she was right on the money. OK, it was 11 years and not nine. Still, that doesn't make me his mama.
"I work down here in Washington. I do research for a committee on budget things. Kind of boring but it pays good."
Armand didn't seem too interested in anything involving a committee or a budget, so that would go down as a big IDC (I don't care) in chat speak.
"I love the blue of your little frilly pants and the blue of your nice shoes. They look like dancing shoes. Are you a dancer?"
Julie could see the young man definitely did not think of her as his mother. That was a major relief.
"I took ballet training but was never good enough to go further. My Mother was a ballerina for many years."
They looked at each other. Only inches separated their faces. Julie could feel her leg lightly touching against the calf of the well-muscled Armand. For some strange reason, that excited her.
What was she thinking?
"This guy is way too young for me. He probably has plenty of young chicks to fill his bed."
Julie smiled at her own private indiscreet thoughts.
Maybe it had been too long since she had relaxed with a man between her legs. She had been so busy; she could not remember exactly how long it had been. Suddenly she frowned, with the realization that it was last New Year's Eve. The champagne had gone so quickly to her head. She found herself in the coat closet with her hostess's husband.
They were not looking for her coat.
Still, she feels satisfied. The hard running seemed to take the edge off. A long run was almost like sex to her. The friction on her labia and the movement of her buttocks sometimes brought her to the precipice of orgasmic release. When that happened, she often got her "second wind" and picked up the pace on her startled peers.
"Senora Julie, you have the body of a dancer. I, too, am a dancer. I teach the traditional Tango at my studio on 57th Street."
Armand handed her a small card that simply said,
The Dance of Love
750 West 57th Street
New York City, New York
Julie was impressed. She could see the way Armand's body was so trim and compact. It was obvious he was in the highest level of fitness. His movements were expressive and so well-controlled. She knew that she was similar but it was from the running and not from dancing.
"I always wanted to learn how to tango!"
She could not believe that she had just said that. Her foot was definitely in her mouth now.
"I will give you my full attention if you can come to me before 5:00 PM on any weekday. After that it gets hectic, and I must attend to the pupils and their needs."
They talked quietly until the airplane was safely on its way. Julie made a date to see Armand at the studio tomorrow in the early afternoon. Then, he told her that he would "take a little siesta" and promptly dozed off beside her. She sat there only inches from him. Their legs were touching. She felt heat down in her very core. If her panties were on, they would probably be soaked by now. It was strange for her to feel this level of attraction. Generally, she just let one of her many suitors have his way with her when she felt an overwhelming need to express her sexuality. Then, she gradually disengaged from them until they ceased to pester her.
Lining up to exit the airplane, Armand smiled and reminded Julie that their date would be at 2:00 in the afternoon. He told her he would be heartbroken if she did not come.
Julie promised to be there.
She watched him as he walked away to the baggage area. His buttocks were so well-muscled and his step was a dance in itself. The image stayed with her all the way into Manhattan and her safe little hideaway in the Village.
Julie was stretched out on the comfortable couch gently stroking her pussy. Her little Blackie was purring like a Rolls-Royce engine. She was all relaxed now after the long soak in the bubble bath and the scented candles to ease her aching muscles. The last run around Arlington Cemetery was a real push to get her in shape for the upcoming marathon.
.... There is more of this story ...