Suzanne Portnoy

I arrived at the airport at 4pm for my flight just over 2 hours later. I was about eighth in the queue, just behind two hunky late-twenty-something guys and in front of a slim, tall single woman who looked in her early thirties.

‘The flight’s not leaving until 4am,’ I heard her say.

That made me look up from starring at my passport. ‘Did you say 4am,’ I turned to her and said.

‘Yeh,’ she said. ‘Somebody had a heart attack on the way in to London and they had to divert the plane. I hear they’re putting us up in the Hilton next door until 2am or something.’

‘Great,’ I said and turned to the guys in front of me. There’s nothing like a crisis to bring a bunch of people together. ‘Guys, we’re not leaving until 4am.’

By the time I got to the front of the queue we were all talking like long-lost friends. That didn’t change the fact that it was only 4pm and 4am seemed a long way away. Too long, I thought, to be spending it all by myself, especially with a free hotel room just a short distance away.

I spent a long time in duty free browsing, had some dinner at the airport, before strolling casually over to the Hilton where I found the two guys from the check-in queue.

They were sitting in the bar, nursing a pint each. ‘Mind if I join you?’ I said.

‘Go right ahead,’ they both replied in unison and I sunk down into an comfy armchair and ordered a ludricously expensive glass of red wine.

We started chatting while I scrawled through the names on my phone until I came to A, my long time swinging partner, who spent a lot of time in Brighton, a stone’s throw from the airport.

‘Hey, honey,’ I said. ‘I’m stuck in Gatwick for the next twelve hours. Where are you?’

‘London,’ he said.

‘Damn,’ I replied. ‘That’s a real shame. I’ve got a free hotel room too. You don’t know anyone near Gatwick, do you?’

‘Ummm,’ he said. ‘Probably. Let me think about that.’

Twenty minutes later I had a number and by midnight, T’s big, hard cock was banging away in my pussy. He was my type too - in his fifties and slim with a shaven head and a nice 8″ dick that seemed to be permanently hard.

‘We’ve met before,’ he said as he was fucking me from behind.

‘Have we?’ I said. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘In the Tower,’ he said.

‘Oh, THAT night,’ I said, remembering a very late night swinging party that I’d attended with A a few year’s earlier. Only we’d arrived too late and all the guests had gone except T and a couple of other guys that were on a bed together giving this woman a really good fucking. I guess T was one of the guys though I couldn’t remember him.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And now I know why A loves fucking you so much. You’re fantastic.’

‘Thanks,’ I said while moving into position on the bed so he could take me from on top. Then he bent down to kiss me and I felt him get harder inside me.

‘I want to get on top,’ I said and we reversed position so that he was on the bottom. I started to grind on his cock, feeling him sliding in and out of me until I could feel my orgasm building. I came and then pulled out of him and moved down his body.

I took him in my mouth, sliding my tongue up and down the shaft and circling his cock with my mouth.

‘You love that,’ he said. ‘I read your book. Am I going to be in your next one?’

That made me feel a bit weird. I hate men thinking I only have sex for research purposes. I don’t. I was with T because I was stuck at the airport and he lived in West Sussex. I had time to fill and he was there.

I ignored his question and carried on sucking. ‘I’m going to come,’ he said and then I felt his warm spunk hit the back of my throat. I swallowed it down and sat up. I looked at my watch. It was 1.30am. ‘Good timing,’ I said.

We both got off the bed and started to get dressed.

We kissed goodbye in the hotel lounge and I made my way back to the airport. Sitting in the waiting area, about to board my plane, I texted A.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘T was perfect. See you in the New Year.’

‘Glad I could help,’ he texted back. ‘Enjoy your holiday.’

Boy, I love my pals.