Airborne and evil… Part I

I have alluded on several occasions in these pages to my sexual reawakening.

Reawakening. Not a new thing, a rebirth.

This post details an event that took place when I was a mere slip of a Minx… I should be ashamed of myself for such brazen and wanton behaviour. Or should I?

* * *

I travelled a lot when I was younger. I originally hail, as you probably know, from the British Isles, the United Kingdom. London, England, to be exact. Even now, entering the hallowed halls of Heathrow Airport sends a frisson of excitement down my spine. An airborne journey is such an adventure, such a trip into the unknown. It has become so commonplace that we rarely consider the fact that we are in the air.

In the air! No strings. No safety net. No parachute, except the one neatly folded under my seat for emergencies. A self-contained metal tube that is one hundred percent aloft.

It smacks of excitement and untoward possibilities. The average and the mundane become an adventure. I never tire of air travel, and the changes effected after 9/11 notwithstanding, I do not believe I ever will.

Sexual activity on a plane takes on a whole new dimension.

“What are you saying, Minx? You’re a member of the mile high club?”

Heh heh heh.

* * *

I was 21 years old: fresh-faced and full of the arrogance of youth. The same 5″4′ bundle of minxy attitude that you know and love now, just thinner, blonder and younger. Less experienced, and far less knowledgeable, but otherwise pretty much the same Evil Minx who you have come to know and love.

I was flying back to Old Blighty from a week’s sojourn, staying with a resident friend, from somewhere in the Mediterranean. The plane was unusually empty, which was partly what precipitated my scandalous behaviour.

I was seated, as is my wont, by the window. The two seats next to me were vacant, much like the smile of the pretty air steward, who asked every passenger in turn “You alright love?” as he minced down the plane.

He did mince, by the way. I’m not being homophobic. He really minced. It was practically a shimmy, if I’m going to be honest. It was a very attractive sight; the Minx has always appreciated a cute butt.

Across the aisle, I noticed a man, obviously travelling alone. I allowed my gaze to fall on him and at that precise second, he turned and caught my eye. Black eyes, flashing at my brown ones. A mutual meeting of lonely minds. Unspoken ideas and promises flew between us in that split second, until I — flirtatiously, I admit it — lowered my gaze, allowing my long, black, mascara-ed eyelashes to rest on my flushed cheeks.

Man, the guy was hot. Wow.

I smiled to myself. I’d enjoyed that moment of salacious and silent communication, but I doubted anything would come of it. Still, eye-candy is never a bad thing, especially when the scheduled film is not to a Minx’s liking.

Take-off came and went. The days when the ominous words “The first four minutes of a flight are the most dangerous..” resonated with me in any deeply frightening way are a thing of the distant past — even on this occasion they affected me little. The cute-butted air steward wiggled by pushing the drinks trolley, and I gratefully accepted tomato juice, Bloody Mary mix, and two mini-bottles of vodka (plus a bottle of mineral water, without which no one should ever fly).

Seated comfortably, with my back against the window, and my feet resting happily on the two empty cushions next to me, I sipped at my drink, having added a splash of tabasco from the bottle that I habitually carried with me on a flight. Gazing into space, my thoughts on holiday I was just finishing, I drank a silent toast to the adventures of the last few days, and the fun I’d had. And then, like a cool breeze I realized that I was under scrutiny. I could feel that black sparkling gaze on me, sending a delicious tingle down my spine.

It was at that moment that I realized without a doubt that this journey would be quite unique. And I very much relished the idea. I mean: nothing ventured, nothing gained… how else can a person look at life?

I gulped back a mouthful of vodka, narrowly missing choking on an errant piece of ice, and shifted in my seat so I could easily look at him. My eyes met his again, but this time I held them until he looked away, at which I invented a slight choking fit. For conversational purposes only, you understand.

“Are you alright?” he asked, in a lilting South-of-England accent, making me wonder if he was from Cornwall, or Devon. Without thinking, I made this my opening conversational gambit, and he looked at me with amusement, the gorgeous black eyes twinkling.

“Neither, although I am from near there. I see you’ve recovered quite well, there.. erm… ?”

He left the sentence hanging, and waited for me to supply him with my name, which I did. “I’m Minx”, I said, and extended my hand for him to shake. He took it, and his cool, firm handshake gave me goosebumps all over. “I’m Alex,” he said, “I’m very pleased to meet you.”

And that was how it started. We talked, we laughed, we chatted. We poked fun at the mincing steward, and listened in on his conversation with his colleague about who was flying to Hong Kong with the dishy pilot the following week. We were both served our meals, and struggled in tandem to open the little plastic cartons without spraying the surrounding area with the food contained within. Once the trays from the meal had been collected, we’d even shared a raised eyebrow at the way in which the steward bent down to slot each tray into the trolley, jutting his perky little butt out for all to admire.

He leaned back, sighed in contentment, patted his hard, flat stomach and turned and looked me in the eye.

“So,” he said in a husky, low voice. “Why don’t you come over here and we can watch the movie together?”

I didn’t need asking twice.

To be continued… (very soon, I promise…)

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4 Responses to “Airborne and evil… Part I”

  1. Aaargh! I don’t remember this. We didn’t, did we?

    A guy can dream can’t he?

  2. The Corporal Says:

    Is there one place that hasn’t been blessed with Minxiosity? An airplane? Jesus Christ.

    Stop dallying about and get the next part up!

  3. Minerva Says:

    Oh GOD…I like the sound of HIM,…

    Minerva

  4. Is this going to be a case of deep vein throb-osis? 😉

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