Airport Reverie Part 3 By Tokyo She left a little while later, saying nothing more, just picking up her bag, and briefly removing something from it. She seemed to hesitate, then put it back in her bag. Something white – could it have been a pair of gloves? I wondered what she had made of the odd movie. I wondered what my distant pen pal would make of it as well. Quite unlike any normal adult material, it lacked the grunting gasping soundtrack, the acres of grey brown flesh. In fact it lacked people entirely, but was purely a carefully choreographed ballet of sexual parts: a cock, a cunt, with breasts and buttock and balls playing minor parts. And, also entirely unattached, two pairs of hands, almost more sexual than all the rest. But would she think it ridiculous, or would it turn her on, as the bizarre mime act had done me? Before she left the woman sitting opposite had given me no clue as to her feelings. When I realised that she too had been watching I was at first alarmed – but she continued to stare resolutely over my shoulder at the glass. And as I relaxed I found that the situation was adding an extra dimension – and my own prick swelled even more forcing itself to use every inch of the trouser space I had carefully arranged for it 15 minutes or so before. Then she turned her head and looked at me, slowly moving her eyes down to my crotch (she must have been able to see the exaggerated swelling) before returning back to my face. And she impassively gazed at me, for a long while. I tried to hold her eyes, but only managed it for a few seconds before sliding my eyes away sideways. Then she left. With her white gloves. Perhaps it was a Japanese fashion, the girl in the DVD shop had worn them too. ‘Zips fucking’, or was it Fucking Zips? Actually the title could be either. And why had I chosen that title any way? Was it that the words reminded me of something else that we had shared – pleasure at the thought of Erica Jong’s elusive experience, the Zipless Fuck And now the departure screen declared that the Heathrow flight would depart at 4 am, ‘provisionally’. Well that was it, the fucking plan was ruined, or to be precise what was ruined was the plan for fucking. … And then again perhaps not. Time had been lost, but some quick calculations proved that a 4 am departure would still allow an hour for speedy socialising. So no time for the manoeuvring game of chess that eventually led to physical intimacy, no time for the movie, no time in fact for chit chat. Just time for, for … for a Zipless Fuck. Ring the bell, stand close to the door, it opens, push straight in (make sure it shuts behind) then push her across the hall and into the kitchen. No words, just push her onto the table and reach down and pull of her track suit bottom from both ankles at once, then standing up pick her up and hold her tight against me, crotch to crotch. Let her slide down to the floor, hold her head while she on her knees undoes my flies (in the real world there are zips!) then lean against the table while she, now under it, sucks me off, then move back and slither down onto one of the hard kitchen chairs and pull her up to straddle me, to sit on my lap - we both writhe, and writhe, and writhe, and explode. Help her off me, zip up my jeans (they never were taken off), and walk to the door, not looking back. Shut it behind me and walk to the car, clime in and drive off. I had a spare hour but is has not even taken twenty minutes. But, but she has often declared that she wants to be restrained. What does that mean? I saw a great hank of blue rope, a tow rope, in B and Q recently, for less than five pounds. In a one hundred mile drive I must pass a B and Q. And do what? Tie her with it, face down to the table, her legs and the table legs also bound. Should I gag her as well? Then penetrate her from behind. With my prick? With something else first? A bottle, here on the work surface a bottle of brown sauce, push that into her, the other hand making myself ready, then swap the bottle for me. No leave the bottle in, and penetrate her ass simultaneously. But it will need lubrication surely? Remove the bottle, remove the lid, shake out brown sauce, shove bottle (still open) back into her, then prick into anus, the spicy sauce stinging, stinging … Bloody hell! What am I turning into?