Fiction | Airport | Stranger | Sex Talk
In The Heat of The Snow: How To Find A Hotel Room When Everything Is Sold-Out
Is it easier to discuss sexual frustrations and fantasies with a stranger? Is it OK to use sex in a desperate situation?
I write erotica novels & short stories. I also publish sex confessions as a spermivore, spermaholic, and teen slut. Yes, teen slut! And I’m proud of it! Sex is good. And girls who love sex shouldn’t have to hide and pretend to be “pure.” Sex is pure! And naked skin is natural.
I was standing in line to get a table at an airport bar restaurant. My connecting flight was postponed because of an unwelcome snowstorm. I was halfway on my trip from LA to Fort Lauderdale–no snow at the origin or destination–but this airline’s central hub was located in a Northern city prone to snowstorms. What a dumb design!
The line wasn’t moving.
All flights were postponed, and I had been told not to expect mine to be rescheduled before tomorrow. They say “postponed” instead of “canceled” so that it costs them less in compensation to passengers. I sprinted to the only hotel located within the airport, but I wasn’t fast enough. All rooms were sold out. I called around; it was the same problem at every hotel within an hour's drive from the airport. And who wants to go out in a mean snowstorm–especially when wearing Summer clothes?
My plan B was to get a seat at the restaurant. These chairs were more comfortable than the McDonald’s restaurant-type chairs at the gate. But I was losing hope this plan would work. Sitting people didn’t seem to want to move out. I couldn’t blame them!
I gave up and walked to the bar. Of course, there were no stools available, but I was hoping that… perhaps… a gentleman would be in the house! I strategically addressed the handsome barman by pushing myself between two well-dressed business-type men.
“White wine, please,” I asked. “Any kind!”
“Well… Maybe that will be faster,” the guy to my left said.
“Excuse me?”
“Your glass of white wine,” he answered. “Maybe you’ll be lucky! I’ve been waiting for my mojito for quite some time.”
“A mojito?” I laughed. “You wanted the barman to hate you!”
“Excuse me?”
“One of the most hated drinks–by bartenders,” I explained. “I hate it too when Sean asks for one!”
“Sean?”
“My husband.”
“You prepare your husband’s drinks on demand? Lucky man!” he cheered.
My neighbor, Julia, told me repeatedly that I was too nice to my husband. Maybe she was right. I shrugged.
“I’m Nelenna,” I announced while extending my right hand toward him. He took it and kissed it.
“I’m George.”
“A gentleman!” I exclaimed.
“Because I kissed your hand? Don’t be fooled by appearance! I could kiss you many other ways in many other places!”
He winked.
I blushed. Damn! I didn’t know how to reply. The barman came to my rescue by delivering me a glass of wine.
“Sir!” George interjected, looking at the barman. “Forget the mojito. Red wine is fine. Or anything, really!”
“The man listens!” I smiled.
“Yes, ma'am!”
He stood up and signaled me to take the stool.
“Wait!” he said. “Only if you do not call me a gentleman!”
I nodded. I would have done anything for a seat!
“I’m married,” I declared, showing him my ring.
“Good for him! But we’re just talking. We’re not having sex. Yet!” he said while visibly looking for a reaction. I worked on not giving him one. I drank more wine. But he kept staring at me, trying to lock eyes.
“I’ve never had sex with anybody but my husband,” I announced, wondering why I was sharing such private information with a stranger.
“Really?” he gasped.
“Ya! In fact, I’ve only seen one naked man in my life. Wait! Not true! My neighbor too.”
“Your neighbor? He’s a nudist or what? Because you didn’t bang him, right?”
“No! Only sex with my husband. But my neighbors are weird. He is… I don’t know! Her toy? He’s a sex toy for her or something!”
He frowned.
“And she likes him to be naked even when neighbors visit,” I added.
“Ouch! Sounds like my ex,” he said.
“She had you answer the door naked?” I asked.
“We’re divorced,” he said instead of answering.
“Oh! What happened? Sorry! I know it’s none of my business.”
“She said I wasn’t pleasuring her enough,” he explained.
“The story of womankind,” I thought out loud.
“Well! I’ve changed! I learned from it. You’d be surprised! You will be surprised,” he claimed.
“A bit presumptuous, sir! Especially in a crowded bar…”
“I have a hotel room, right here in the airport.”
“Fuck me! I don’t! All sold out!”
“Fuck you?” he grinned. I rolled my eyes.
“What?” he continued. “Maybe it’s a sign you should see what sex feels like with somebody other than your husband–at least once in your life!”
“That’s a non-gentleman way of inviting me to your room. Are you?” I asked.
“I sure am, Nel!”
“Just so I can see another man ejaculates and snores before I barely have time to get wet. Running out of sleeping pills?” I snarled.
“Nel,” he shook his head, “what kind of man is your husband?”
“The male kind,” I blasted. “As if you don’t know! Men come too fast. The only reliable sex partner I’ve ever had is my vibrator.”
This conversation was becoming strangely intimate. I didn’t know why. It must have been the weather!
“Not all men will come before you do, Nel! And, with all due respect… A sample of one is statistically a bit small for a study!”
“Fair enough,” I admitted. “So tell me… How could a man not come before me? You touch that rod and it is already eager to explode!”
He looked at me and sighed.
“You need to come to my room, Nel! And come in too!”
“You could be a gentleman and let me have your room!”
“I will be a gentleman and let you have an orgasm before I do. In fact, better… I won’t have an orgasm at all but I will give you one, my Lady!”
I don’t even discuss sex with my husband, and that stranger was talking to me about my orgasms. I had to take a long sip of wine to compose myself.
“You failed biology, it seems!” I giggled nervously.
He shook his head.
“Fine!” I said. “Tell. Me. How!”
“No! But I can show you!”
I tensely turned my back to him and drank more wine, one sip after the other. I felt his hands coming on my legs from behind. I froze. He went down to reach the bottom of my dress and touch my skin. He then brought his hands inside my thighs while pushing my dress up. I grabbed both of his hands.
“We’re in public!” I whispered.
“Afraid to experience new pleasures?” he asked.
He freed his hands and placed them on my belly, then went up to my breasts. He cupped both of the girls from behind. For some reason, I didn’t object anymore. There was something about him. The situation. The place. And I almost believed he could deliver what he promised.
He kissed me on the neck. I had to admit; he was getting me excited. I bent my head to invite him to kiss again, which he did. I couldn’t remember the last time my husband kissed my neck and, oh boy! That does it for me!
“I still don’t believe you, but a bed would be better than this stool for the night,” I added as if trying to justify my reaction.
He took my hand and gently pulled on it. I got up. He kissed me on the mouth. I hugged him to make it last longer. It was such a warm, long, and wet kiss. My husband and I barely kissed nowadays beyond the have-a-good-day mechanical morning kiss before he left for work.
He threw money over the bill on the bar, and we left.
Do you think Nelenna will get what George promised? Find out in Part 2, published here:
This story is a prequel to “A Sultry World,” Book 4 of “A Sultry Life” series.
Thanks so much for supporting me as a writer and for your interest in my sex life. I often think of you when other men and women are using me. You are my motivation to try new things and push my limits!
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