I Know It's Cheating, But It Was Such Good Cheating

Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam. I had a long layover, coming out of Beijing, heading west to New York. I was tired. I had showered. I was not doing much of anything. Across from me was a man. He looked prosperous and engaged. We caught eyes now and then. I did my best to ignore him. He broke the ice and asked me where I was going, where I had come from. As the layover was long we broke and went to lunch together. It was he who suggested we take a day room and get to know each other.

How he knew, it is always a mystery how one knows the other. Sex was the purpose, and to that purpose we submitted. I was hungry for a man, I had been held back being in China where you never know who is looking. I felt his lean body against mine, his breath was a man breath, his hand strong. I gave myself to him. He had an intensive purpose about him. I fell deeper and deeper into the waves of erotic and forbidden pleasure.

I woke sometime later, he was gone, his flight was much earlier than mine. I was undressed, as he left me, with a note. "It was a pleasure". Yes it was.

I didn't get his name, nor he mine. I know better than to make myself known, and his was a name for the moment only. My flight, the last leg home after a month gone. I relaxed on the plane across the pond, I was relaxed when I got to my apartment. My partner knowing that I would be tired prepared a slight meal, and we went to bed early.