Sex In The City 2: Interactive Sex Blog

He has left a voice mail.  He is early.  Marcus' Post 

Marcus is a just a couple of meters away from me now.  His voice gentle, it is almost unimaginable to think he is the same guy that tortures me with all that carnal and earthy tempting words.  I close my eyes as I listen to his voice.  I can practically imagine the taste of his cock and cum in my mouth.  My throat gets dry and the shivers in my spine make my entire skin so tingly.  I have to get a grip of myself my knees and hands are starting to shake.  
Crap!  I have to send a message to Rocky to call off any dinner plans.  Did I ask her to  arrange that?  My brain goes on overdrive.  I have been too busy thinking about what Marcus and I will do with each other, that my information data bank is just about ready to crash.  I fumble with my Blackberry and it slipped and fell from my hands.
I heard a voice from somewhere.  I mumbled some thanks and stuttered, "I'm so sorry, were you saying something?"  I take my phone from the hands of the man beside me.
"That's alright, you look pretty occupied in your thoughts.   I was asking whether this is a business trip to New York?  My name is Stephen," the green eyed stud beside me spoke.  Very clear, masculine voice yet no discernible accent.  Strange.
"I'm sorry, I was trying to retrieve a message.  Well yes and no.  I do come around the city for work, but not this time.  I am here for a strictly pleasure" I manage a small, friendly smile.  
I give him a once-over and realized he is an extremely attractive man.  He could be in his early 30's or maybe even late 20's; not bad looking at all; no ring or visible tan ring line.  Very tall and lean, but muscular and taut.  Tight jeans, white tee shirt and a dark jacket.
"Hi, I'm Trickie" and offer him my hand and he squeezes it gently, twice.  Double-squeezer.
He is staring at me and I hold his stare back.  
I broke the moment, "Since you have been so nice and helpful, can you grab my small suitcase from the overhead bin when you get your stuff?  Just be careful please, my laptop is in it?"
"Of course, absolutely, Trickie. Is that with an -ie or a -y?" he asks, trying to be charming.
I try hard not to charm back, "Depends on who is asking" I say, holding back on fluttering my eyelashes.  It is not the time to flirt, your preening juices are on an all-time high (I hear my inner voice nagging me).
The plane finally quiets down and the lights went on.  In a couple of seconds, faster than a blink, the aisle is filled with people inching, scrambling their way to the exit.  Fucking New Yorkers!
Stephen gets my leather all-around large bag.  He slings his own leather bag pack on his right shoulder.  Must be a local.
I say thanks and smile.   He suddenly speaks again, "Listen Trickie, if you have not made any plans, can I take my chances and ask if you would like to join me for a cup of coffee?" His eyes slide down from my eyes, lips and blouse.  I instantly became aware my top barely covers my breasts.  Instinctively, I fix it and saw him attempt to stop staring but failing awkwardly.
I mutter, "Oh, excuse me," he cuts in abruptly, "Oh no, don't say that.  They're gorgeous."
Cheeky.  
I decide to get even.  I retort back, "Free coffee is a tempting invitation Stephen, but my lover is waiting at the airport bar right this minute.  I just really flew in because I promised to fuck his brains out this weekend."
A nano-second passed then he laughed, still chuckling he says, "Sexy hot and funny too, I like that."
I look him in the eye and as solemnly as I can, "Maybe on my next trip back, I will give you a chance to understand that I am not trying to humor you.  I don't make threats, just promises."  I take out a business card and hand it to the stunned hot dude.  "Nice to know you Stephen" and I walk past him but I look back and catch him swallowing hard, checking out my butt and staring back at my card.  Men.  So little time.

I move to the aisle and my mind tunes back to Marcus.  My head hums his words and I feel a sudden flush rise to my face and that incessant throbbing between my thighs.  I am so painfully aching for sex. I feel the dryness in my throat again.

My mind is filled with the thoughts of having my face between your soft thighs.  I am burning with the need to explore your soft feminine fold with my tongue, my lips and my fingers.  I want to see you laid out on a bed in front of me with your legs spread wide, inviting me to pleasure you; to lick you from your puckered little hole to your hard little nub.  I thirst to taste you, to feel the silkiness of your skin as I suck one of your tender lips into my mouth and savor it.  I cover your mound with my mouth and suck you, slithering my tongue over you.  I want to feel your fingers in my hair, encouraging me to go further.  I will slip my tongue inside you and pinch your hard clit in my fingers.  I need to hear you moan, calling my name in your heated desire for me.  I will take my time, torturing you with prolonged pleasure, exhausting you to the point of unconsciousness by sucking orgasm after orgasm out of your hot flowing pussy.  There you will be, helplessly draped over the bed, hardly able to move.  That is when I will mount you and take my pleasure from you, over and over again.  I will plunge deep inside you and drill that hot cunt, filling you several times before collapsing on top of you, spent. 

I finally made my way out of the plane feeling my whole body aching to be touched.  The queue moved fast enough and since I traveled very light, I thought I would practically be naked for the next 48 hours anyway, my over-night carry on didn't need to be checked in.  I do a detour to the loo.  I retouched my face, dabbed some lip gloss, and unbuttoned my top again.  I would like to make Marcus feel welcome.  I spray my favorite scent.  I'm totally ready.
I slowly walk along the airport's Arrival Lounge and found my way checking out the coffee shop and bar crowd.  Oh my god, that's him!  My heart skipped a beat as a man walked towards me.  I can imagine him naked, good god! My spine shivers again.
"Trickie?" he called.  I smile and wait for him to walk to where I stood.  I couldn't move.