What happens in London ...

It was my first business trip. Ever. And it was to London.
I flew in a day earlier than I had to, but being my first trip and all, I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. My colleagues were to join me the following day.

I boarded the airplane by myself, went to my seat and waited. It wasn't the first time I flew by myself, but it was the first time I was this giddy about it. The last thing I wanted was for an old lady to take my fun away.

When he walked down the aisle, I prayed. My prayers were answered. I've never really clicked with the jock type, but I preferred him over other types. All I wanted was to have a fun flight and a drinking partner. And jocks drink, no?

It took us all but a few minutes before we started flirting like crazy. He told me he was married, which was fine by me since we haven't really done anything. I was between relationships. We flirted and his hands, much more often than mine, found excuses to touch me. Oh, but in a friendly way, of course. Right. And we talked. Tons. A lot about sex too. In a way, I was curious how jocks behaved in bed. Heh.

Once we reached London, we shared a cab. He took me to my hotel and we parted ways. We didn't exchange phone numbers, we only knew each others' given name and that was that. A fun flight. All that I wanted. It never occurred to me that I'd ever see him again.

Oh, but I guess I made an impression. He (sorry, I forgot his name. Let's call him Ron) called me within a couple of hours, said he was in the lobby and asked permission to come to my room!!! Just like that.

Of course I said yes.

I'm not sure if we even first sat down before he jumped me, or if was straight as I opened the door. But there was absolutely no ceremony or pretensions. It was clear why he was there. It was clear why I allowed him to be.

Now, since I have to take a shower before dinner now, the juicy details will be in the next post!