She extended a hand. ‘Oh… hi… sorry, newsprint…’ I muttered and went right back to my paper without taking her hand. She touched myarm. ‘...a know, I don’t typically do this… but um…’ she bit her lip… ‘maybe you and I could … um … well I find you really hot and why don’t we join the mile high club. Head back to the bathrooms… ya know.’ I could not see how this woman could fit herself into the cramped quarters of an airplane lavatory much less have anyone join her. I include in that the aerobic. When it seems like my thighs and groin are next, he trails back up my arms. He massages and caresses me sensually, until I realize my pussy is dripping. He notices too and with lightest touch drags a finger from my taint to my clit, lifts the finger to his lips, and savors the taste and smell of my pussy juice all while maintaining eye contact. The look on his face gives me goosebumps as he slowly lowers his mouth and begins making out with my clit. He enjoys the taste so much that he. I also had just discovered my fetish of wearing panties and women's clothes. I had started my own collection of panties that I would wear as I would dress up, watch porn, and talk to strangers. Since I was a teen I would frequent multiple chatrooms, straight, bi, and sometimes gay under the name, "Ivory cd." Late one evening I was on one of the bi chat rooms I would frequent, when I recieved an incoming messag from a man named "Mr. Black." He started the conversation with a, "Hey gurl, how'r. Enough." I don't know what to say. 'I'm happy for you.' sure doesn't seem appropriate. I turn to her. Not just with my face, my whole body. She turns also. Our knees touch. I hold out my cup. "Here's to the future, Rose." "To a new beginning, Charlie." We 'clink' our paper cups together and sip and smile. One shield is down and she looks more open than she ever has. But not to me. To the world. She is back on the market and ready for some adventure. "I want you..." "Rose..." "...but I can't.