The life of a consultant can be exhausting. For the past three years, I have been traveling from Chicago to Stuttgart, Germany, once per month. A manufacturing company hired my company during the acquisition of a small startup. What started out as a “quick and easy” evaluation of their profit and loss statements and valuation estimate turned into a more elaborate chore once we realized just how messy their books were. The flight from Chicago to Stuttgart is typically about nine hours. It’s the perfect amount of time to have a drink, watch a movie, and get just enough “rest” to fight the jet lag.   

Flying internationally as often as I do comes with some pretty nice perks: frequent flyer status, upgrades to first class, membership to the airline club... Anything to keep their business customers happy. On my February trip, I was happy, but not surprised, to see that I was upgraded to first class for the flight. The first-class seats on my favorite airline are nice little pods that afford you some privacy during your flight, typically just enough to catch some sleep without being disturbed. In the 21st century, the attire for most passengers, especially those taking the redeye, prioritizes comfort over style. I, on the other hand, romanticize about the golden age of flying where men wore suits and women wore lovely dresses and diamonds, and I always wear a suit and tie for my trips.

“My flight boards at 9:13 PM,” I thought to myself as I exited security.

It was just enough time to grab dinner and a drink in the club. Per my normal routine, I grabbed a caprese sandwich and a glass of Merlot. I sat in a chair by the window where I could eat my dinner in peace and watch the airport activities. I had been in hundreds of airports, and somehow, I was still mesmerized by the blue taxiway lights and the thoughts of where each passenger may be going. Were they families going on vacation, business travelers flying to important meetings, low level politicians flying to implement the goals of their respective countries? More often than not, my mind wandered to the idea of newlywed couples traveling to somewhere exotic to celebrate their honeymoon or bachelor and bachelorette parties looking to celebrate the last days of “freedom” before their wedding day.

I was halfway through my second glass of wine when I happened to notice her at the bar. She was a striking redhead with piercing green eyes, dressed in a blue floral dress and blazer that perfectly complemented her vibrant hair. It was halfway between something I would expect to see in a southern sorority and something I would expect to see in a Fortune 500 board room. I appreciated that I wasn’t the only one who liked to look their best for a trip.

“I can’t let a beautiful woman like that get dressed up for a trip and not be complimented,” I thought to myself.

I finished my glass of wine and made my way to the bar, eager for another and a chance to talk to her.

I approached the open seat next to her and asked the bartender for another glass of wine. She looked my direction and smiled.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked with a playful smile, hoping to catch her attention.

“How generous of you,” she said, knowing that the drinks were complimentary.

I smiled in return and said, “I appreciate seeing others wearing their best to fly. There’s just something romantic about it.”

As if challenging my flirtatious chit-chat, she replied with a quick “You haven’t seen me in my best.”

“Well, I hope that one day I get to see it. Have a pleasurable flight,” I replied.

“You too,” she said as she gave me a grin.

I returned to my seat at the window to finish my glass of wine.

I thought to myself, “Would I have time for another? Could I make another excuse to flirt with the woman at the bar without seeming too obvious?”

I usually avoided fleeting romances, but there was something about her that felt different, more exciting, and I couldn't resist her magnetism. I glanced down at my watch and saw that it was 9:05. My flight was going to start boarding in eight minutes, and I had to walk a few gates down. Being a consultant, I naturally accounted for my time down to the minute. I wouldn’t want to do any work that I wasn’t getting paid for.

The club has people to clean up empty plates and glasses, but I thought I would be accommodating and return my wine glass to the bar. Of course, I could not have cared less about leaving an empty wine glass at my seat. I just wanted another excuse to flirt with the beautiful woman at the bar.

“I hope to see you around,” I said with a warm smile, setting my glass on the bar and hoping she felt the same spark I did.

“Most men do,” she responded with confidence and a mischievous smile.

I waited in line at the gate for the airline to board, knowing that I would be the next group called. My airline status was one of those silly levels where they “pre-board” your group and make you fight through the crowds of passengers bunched up at the gate as if it were all of their first time flying. I always thought it seemed silly, but I appreciated the extra time to take my tie off and get situated for the long flight. I boarded the plane and turned left toward the first-class section. I found my seat, 2C, gave the flight attendant my suit coat, placed my bag in the overhead bin, and sat down.

As I scrolled through the movies on the infotainment system, I heard a familiar voice say, “I guess you’re going to see me around.”

I looked to my left and saw her, the beautiful woman from the club. Not having anticipated ever seeing her again, let alone this soon, all I could respond with was “Haha… I guess so.”

She performed the same pre-flight ritual that I did, giving her jacket to the flight attendant, placing her bag in the overhead bin, and sitting down as if she had done this just as many times as I have. Her seat was somewhat obscured from mine, as was the intent of the design, but I saw her lean forward and look at me.

“My name is Amelia,” she said. “I figured a proper introduction was in order since we’ll be spending the next nine hours together.”

“My name is Charles. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I responded politely, but caught off guard.

She replied with a bold “I usually try to get the name of the guys I sleep this close to.”

I honestly didn’t know how to respond and just managed to chuckle. She could tell I was nervous.

“Sleep tight!” I said, blurting out the first words that came to my mouth.

Realizing how foolish I sounded, I retreated behind the wall of my seat, hoping to hide my embarrassment.

“Very tight…” she said softly, as she clearly only intended for me to hear it.

The other passengers started getting situated in 1A… 3C… 3A… 1C… I needed the interruption to process what had just happened. I could usually hold my own very well against some of the most powerful people my firm has been hired by, but she had me struggling to put together a coherent thought.

I paid attention to the safety briefing as I usually do, (After all, it’s disrespectful to ignore the efforts of the flight attendants.) and immediately thereafter, I pulled out the newspaper to read until the beverages and dinner were served.

The flight attendants started taking drink orders for the first row and Amelia leaned forward and asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”

I smiled in return, with a newfound confidence. “How generous of you.”

She recognized that I responded with the exact same sarcasm that she did only an hour or so before.

“I’d like to buy my neighbor, Charles, a drink,” she said to the flight attendant asking her for her drink order.

The flight attendant smiled an awkward smile back at Amelia and said, “Of course ma’am. What can I get you in the meantime?”

Amelia smiled back and said ,“I’ll let Charles order for me.”

I can’t imagine how dumbfounded I must have looked when the flight attendant asked me what my friend and I would like.

“How the hell am I supposed to know what she wants to drink?” I thought to myself.

“Let’s do a bottle of Pelegrino and a Scotch for each of us. After all, you must relax but also stay hydrated,” I respond in a surprisingly suave manner.

Amelia chuckled as if I had somehow “passed her test.”

The flight attendant brought us both our drinks, and Amelia surprisingly hid herself behind the partition of her seat. We both ordered our meals and ate in silence, without any more interaction. Another hour or so passed, and I contemplated whether I could or should have done anything differently. The cabin crew dimmed the lights for us to go to sleep, and I reflected on my interaction with the woman I was going to “sleep this close to.”

For more than an hour after the cabin lights were dimmed, I struggled to fall asleep. Normally, I would be out like a light, but there was something that kept my heart beating fast, unable to relax. I casually looked over to my new friend’s seat and noticed she was reading something on her tablet. I tried not to stare, but I noticed that she was holding her tablet with one hand, and her other hand was tucked beneath her blanket. I discreetly watched the hand that Amelia hid beneath her blanket. The partition ensured that she would not detect my wandering eyes. After about 20 minutes, I couldn’t help myself. I had to do something to reengage our flirtatious relationship.

I stood up from my seat and walked to the lavatory in the front of first-class, paying extra care not to turn to look at Amelia. When I got to the lavatory, I washed my face and thought about how I was going to return to my seat. Should I make eye contact with her as if to tell her I was watching her, or should I just try to casually observe what she may be doing under that blanket.

I adjusted my shirt, my pants, and my belt before leaving the restroom. After all, I wanted to look my best. I took a deep breath, unlocked the door and stepped into the aisle. I tried to be nonchalant, but my efforts dissolved in an instant. As I returned to my seat, I saw Amelia’s deep green eyes staring into mine, her bottom lip tucked ever so slightly into her mouth.

This woman ignited a passion within me deeper than my wildest dreams. I was at a loss for what I should do next. I sat in my seat thinking about what to do next, hypersensitive to my surroundings. The cabin was filled with dull drones of the airplane’s engines, but I swear I heard a different sound. There was some different pattern of vibrations, noticeable only to the most attentive of ears. Had she started touching herself with a toy while I was gone?

I watched my seatmate with the most intense desire, wondering if I was fantasizing or if my wildest dreams were really coming to life. Amelia seemed to tense up beneath her blanket and lay her tablet down on her lap. The vibrations that I thought I heard suddenly went away. Had she just brought herself to orgasm so covertly amongst all these people?

I had to cover myself with my blanket because to even the most innocent bystander, it would be readily apparent that something, or should I say someone, had my attention. I sat there patiently for what seemed like an eternity. Amelia did not move a muscle. Was she asleep?

After at least an hour, I began to convince myself that I had imagined everything that had just happened. Surely this beautiful, flirtatious woman didn’t just masturbate in front of me for her own amusement. People don’t actually masturbate in public like that, right? My observations turned to fantasies, and my fantasies turned to dreams, and without intention, I fell asleep.

After not realizing that I had fallen asleep, I was startled awake.

“Hello Charles, I hope I didn’t keep you awake,” Amelia whispered in my ear as she leaned toward my seat. “Will you please accept these as an apology?”

Amelia didn’t wait for me to respond before she returned to her seat and completely closed off her seat’s partition. I looked at what she had placed in my hands, and I could not believe my eyes. It was a dark blue lacy thong that had clearly been chosen to perfectly complement her dress. Faster than I could process my own thoughts, I raised them to my nose and clearly determined that I was right. She had been masturbating in her seat, showing off her sexuality for me. Was it for my pleasure or hers?

Part of me wanted to unzip my pants and give Amelia the same show she had just given me, yet the other part of me was terrified of the thought of being arrested for masturbating on an airplane. I would surely be fired from my job and the rest of my life ruined. Was this an appetizer to an invitation to join her in the lavatory? If it was, surely she would have left the door to her seat open for my response.

I lay there in my seat with her panties in my hand raised to my nose, thinking about how delicious they smelled and how much more of her I wanted. As I fantasised about all the ways that this could end, I realized that she was no fan of subtlety. I had to step outside of my comfort zone and tell her what I really wanted… her.

The lights in the cabin came back on, and the flight attendants started their typical routine to serve breakfast before landing. Since our flirtatious relationship had been built upon “buying” each other drinks that were already complimentary, I took this opportunity to interrupt the flight attendant before she asked Amelia what she would like to drink.

“My friend and I would like two drinks to start our day. First, could we have a bottle of Champagne to ‘celebrate,’ and second, could we each have a coffee to make sure we have enough energy for our upcoming day’s activities?” I said to the flight attendant.

Amelia was caught off guard. I had called her bet and gone all in on continuing the day’s activities.

With the pre-landing activities, we were unable to exchange any more sexual advances, so I pulled a pen from my pocket and wrote a note on the napkin that I had left on my tray table.

“Amelia, you have given me a very memorable souvenir for this trip. I feel an obligation to return the favor. I hope to see you when we deplane. Yours enthusiastically, Charles.” I confidently reached across the aisle and placed it on her armrest.

She read the note and quickly tucked it away in her purse.

As the plane came to a stop at the gate, Amelia rushed to the lavatory as if to avoid me. I was very confused.

“Had I been too forward?” Given the enthusiasm of her advances, that surely couldn’t be the case, could it?

I gathered my things and left the plane as slowly as I could, hoping to see my muse one more time. As I could delay no longer, I retrieved my jacket from the flight attendant and left the airplane with my things. I walked up the jet bridge, trying to determine if I was going to be arrested or if I would leave the airport,t never knowing what might have been.

When I got to the main concourse, I boldly determined that it was worth waiting to see what the end of the story was going to be. I waited for no longer than 2 minutes when I saw Amelia walk out of the gate. She was instantly recognizable, but instead of the blue floral print dress she was wearing on the flight, she had changed into something even more flirtatious. Amelia scanned the crowd for my familiar face, and when she made eye contact with me, she gave me a mischievous smile and walked confidently toward me.

“I’m glad to see you waited for me. I just had to freshen up a little bit,” she said.

“Would you like to be my guest in the club before we go our separate ways? They have some nice little suites where we can have some time just the two of us,” I said.

“I would like that,” she said, letting her guard down for the first time since we met and letting me take the lead.

We navigated the concourse with very few words. She linked her arm through mine as if walking to the stage to receive an award. Was she my prize, or was I hers?

We scanned our boarding passes at the entrance to the club and were warmly welcomed by the staff. I asked in my best German where the showers were, and we were directed to a quiet hall to our left.

“I want you to know that I have no intention of pressuring you into anything you don’t want to do,” I said to my guest.

Amelia responded with a smile, “I hope you don’t think that you’re the one making the decisions here.”

The attendant handed us two bath towels and showed us to our shower suite. I opened the door to let her enter first. There was a wide granite countertop with a sink, a large walk-in shower, and a leather bench in the corner. I closed and locked the door behind us, knowing we were about to get anything but clean.

I turned around, and before I could say a word, she pressed me up against the door and kissed me. Her lips pressed firmly against mine.

I pulled her hips up against mine as I felt the front of my pants tighten with desire. My hands naturally moved to the hem of her dress, lifting it up above her waistline.

“Look at that, someone is missing her panties,” I said.

“Shut-up, you ingrate,” she said as she continued kissing me.

I pushed her away just enough to reach my hand in between her legs. She spread her feet apart so that I had unrestricted access to what I had been thinking about since we were over the mid-Atlantic.

“What do you think I was doing for my after-dinner entertainment on the airplane, Charles?” she said.

“I think that you were reading a spicy novel and thinking about me, my dear,” I responded in a confident tone.

“And?” she said inquisitively.

“I think you had your hand inside your panties thinking about me doing exactly what you were reading about in your book,” I replied, hoping to satisfy her thirst for knowledge.

“That’s almost exactly what I was doing. I was pressing my vibrator up against my clit. thinking about you joining me in the airplane bathroom so I could finally join the ‘Mile High Club,’ but clearly you didn’t get the hint,” she said.

Emboldened by her words, I ran my fingers in between her legs, separating the lips of her pussy, but being careful not to touch her clit too soon.

“Finally, you’re getting the hint,” she said with a mischievous smile.

As I ran my fingers up and down her opening, I slipped one finger inside without effort. She let out an uncontrollable moan of pleasure. My second finger followed the first without resistance.

She pulled her lips away from mine as she started to lose focus. I could not stand to have her dress, no matter how beautiful, in between our bodies anymore. I pulled my fingers out of her pussy and lifted her dress with both hands, revealing a lacy see-through bra. Her nipples weren’t masked by the lace in the slightest.

Before my fingers could return to where they had started, she dropped to her knees and started unbuttoning my pants.

“I don’t really think this is fair that you’re wearing all of these clothes, and I’m here almost completely naked,” she said as she released my now fully erect cock from my pants.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we left Chicago. It’s a shame you made me wait all this time,” she said as she wrapped her lips around the tip dof my penis.

I took off my shirt, hoping to speed things up. I had been thinking about what this gorgeous woman might do to me, and what I might do to her, for the past 10 hours.

I lifted Amelia up from the floor and carried her over to the counter. As if constructed perfectly for our heights, I ran the tip of my cock up and down her entrance.

Amelia bit her bottom lip and shook her head gently up and down, as if cordially inviting me to enter her.

The wetness that I tasted on her panties several hours before allowed me to slide inside of her without difficulty. She moaned in pleasure as I my thrusts started shallow and gradually went deeper and deeper inside. As I established my rhythm, I felt her hips fall into sync with mine.

The tempo of our bodies slowly started to increase, proceeding to the crescendo that we both knew was rapidly approaching.

The anticipation from last night’s events signaled that this encounter may be an abridged version.

“I’m going to cum soon,” I said to Amelia.

“Good! Cum inside my pussy! Cum inside me, Charles!” she said as she pulled my hips into her with force.

At that moment, I felt her pussy clench down on my cock as I came deep inside of her. She held my hips firmly against her for what seemed like minutes until she relaxed her pussy and let go of me. She kissed me passionately and said, “Nice to meet you, Charles. I think you and I could both use a shower.”

I left Amelia on the counter as I walked over to turn on the shower. She sat there gently caressing her pussy with her feet now up on the counter as she watched me with lust. I hoped that she would join me in the shower, but she was in no hurry to get up. When I had washed my body, she told me to go ahead and get dressed and leave.

Feeling the pair of panties in my pocket, I opened the shower door and said, “Do you mind if I keep these? You know… just in case this is the last time we see each other?”

“I’ll only let you keep them if you’ll actually remember me by them,” she said with a flirtatious wink.

“I don’t think that’s the only reason I’ll remember you,” I said.

“Next time, I’m expecting you to actually buy me a drink,” she said and smiled.

“Goodbye, Amelia. I hope to see you around,” I said as I left our shower suite.

I heard the door lock immediately as I stepped outside. The walk out of the airport was longer than I remembered it. Was I just more conscious of the time it took, or was I just hoping she would catch up to me? I hailed a taxi to get a ride to my hotel. I didn’t want this story to end, but it also wasn’t a bad way for it to end either.

“I wonder if I will ‘see her around,’” I thought as the taxi driver placed my bag in the trunk and I climbed inside…