Sunday, January 2, 2011


He grasped me firmly but gently just above my elbow and guided me
into a room, his room. Then he quietly shut the door and we were

He approached me soundlessly, from behind, and spoke in a low,
reassuring voice close to my ear.

"Just relax."

Without warning, he reached down and I felt his strong, calloused
hands start at my ankles, gently probing, and moving upward along my
calves slowly but steadily. My breath caught in my throat. I knew I
should be afraid, but somehow I didn't care. His touch was so
experienced, so sure.

When his hands moved up onto my thighs, I gave a slight shudder, and
partly closed my eyes. My pulse was pounding. I felt his knowing
fingers caress my abdomen, my ribcage. And then, as he cupped my firm,
full breasts in his hands, I inhaled sharply. Probing, searching,
knowing what he wanted, he brought his hands to my shoulders, slid
them down my tingling spine and into my panties.

Although I knew nothing about this man, I felt oddly trusting and
expectant. This is a man, I thought. A man used to taking charge.
A man not used to taking `no' for an answer. A man who would tell me
what he wanted. A man who would look into my soul and say ...

"Okay, ma'am," said a voice. "All done."

My eyes snapped open and he was standing in front
of me, smiling, holding out my purse. "You can board your flight now."

Gentle Readers,

I wish I could take credit for writing this post, but alas, I cannot. It came to me in an email and I don't know who wrote it. I will take credit, however, for recognizing that it's hilarious.


1 comment:

  1. In the words of David Lee Roth, singing for Van Halen, "Girl, you really got me..."


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