Your erotic stories

Sitting in the airport is never much fun, regardless of the reason behind traveling. I'm a seasoned traveler though and even despite all of the new security measures and increasing delays, it seems that I'm at the airport more often now than not. In fact, with my relatively new job, I'm traveling more now than ever. But who's complaining, right? After all, it's putting food on the table. I've never been one to complain too much anyway.

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Peter released the harness he had been wearing for the past half hour and stretched his long legs out in front of him. The flight had been relaxing, uneventful and, although he had enjoyed the business trip to New York immensely, he was glad to be home. He was, however, in no hurry to depart, letting most of those sitting behind him on the aircraft move past before venturing into the aisle and removing his hand luggage from the rack above his head.

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I have just taken my assigned right aisle seat in first class and opened the latest issue of "Newsweek" and begun to read a story about Terrorism in Iraq and suddenly - you walk through the entrance to the seating section of the Boeing 747. There is a certain air about you as you enter; every male in the front passenger area is staring at you.

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