Virgin Flyer

He smiled and pulled out his wallet, sliding out a business card. “My email and cell number are on there. Shoot me an email and I’ll connect you to my friend at Midway. And… let me know the next time you’re in town?”

I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, noticing the dark spicy tang of his cologne. “Absolutely.”

When I returned to the hotel room by the airport, I took a long hot shower. And when my dick got hard from stroking it, I wondered if I’d made a mistake not inviting Jefferson Plenty back to my room. My mind flashed to NurseTee, the beautiful muscles of his shoulders and arms and the desire pooled in his eyes as I stroked into him. God, I couldn’t stop thinking of him. The little noises he made, the needy way his hands clutched at me, the absolute conviction I had that the man needed someone to give him the exact love he was looking for.

I groaned and pounded my fist on the shower wall. This was nonsense. I was making up stories in my head like a soap opera writer. For all I knew, the man came up with various hookup scenarios every week or even every night and played a role.

But I knew that wasn’t true. He was clearly inexperienced and unsure. No one was that good of an actor. And his body had been tight as fuck. When he’d gagged while giving me head, he’d been both embarrassed and surprised. God, I wanted him again. I wanted to teach him how good sex could feel. I craved the chance to do more with him, get my hands and mouth on him one more time.

I jerked off to the image of Tee on his knees for me, sucking and gagging while looking up at me with those gorgeous eyes and spiky wet lashes. My orgasm was swift and strong, causing me to accidentally inhale some of the shower spray and wind up choking and gasping for breath as I came down too quickly from my high.

I couldn’t help but see it as some kind of metaphor for my life.

After the fifth straight week of not feeling like arranging for a hookup, I started to wonder if it was possible to experience a midlife crisis before the age of forty. I dragged my ass home to my apartment and decided to spend my entire three days off by buying a bunch of groceries and learning how to make my mother’s prune and olive chicken dish. When I got up Saturday morning, I knocked on Elaine’s apartment next door. The older woman answered with a big smile.

“There’s my jet-set neighbor. Where’ve you been off to lately? Anywhere exciting?”

I noticed she was freshly made up and dressed for the day. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner if you’re free. I’m on my way to the market and wondered if you needed anything or wanted to come with me.”

Her whole face lit up. “Just the kind of offer I was looking for, sweet man. Having a bit of the cabin fever if you want to know the truth.”

“Then maybe we need to stop somewhere for a coffee and pastry on the way and make a morning of it. What do you say?”

We spent a nice morning wandering the neighborhood, sharing a box of pastries, and collecting groceries. When we returned, Elaine joined me in the kitchen to keep me company while I prepared the marinade for the chicken.

“You know,” she began, “at some point you might consider a different job.”

I glanced up at her from chopping the prunes in half. “Why? I love my job.”

One of the reasons we’d bonded so quickly after I’d moved in was because I’d discovered she’d been a flight attendant for United for forty years before she’d retired. We’d spent hours swapping stories of crazy flights and customers.

“Your job won’t keep your bed warm at night,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Ask me how I know.”

“You sound like my sister. She’s been encouraging me to change over to private charters. Find something more predictable. I interviewed for one several weeks ago, but the pay wasn’t good enough.” I went back to chopping. “And I think if I’m going to make a big change like that, I might want to move closer to her and Kirk. They’re trying to get pregnant, and it would be nice to be closer to them.”

Elaine made a thoughtful sound before taking a sip from the glass of ice water I’d given her.

“What about you? Do you want children?” she asked. She already knew I was gay despite the fact I never brought men home to my apartment.

I shrugged. “I go back and forth. I think it would depend on the guy I fell in love with.” I thought about it for a minute. “If I met someone who didn’t want kids, I’d enjoy taking advantage of our freedom to travel and go out for nice long dinners. But if I met someone who wanted a family, I could see myself enjoying that life too, you know? It’s weird. If you’d asked me even a year ago, I would have said no kids.”