Mile High Dom (fiction) – Part 1

(This is a payment for losing several rounds of “Battleship” to a friend.)

I hate flying.

Not out of some fear of heights, though I had that as a kid, but suffering through the process of being herded like cattle, while all the time wearing a business suit.

This day, however, has been extremely problematic.

The nightmare began when I couldn't find a parking place, causing me to rush and leave my walking shoes in the car. Running with a skirt is bad enough, but in heels, it's torture, and not the fun kind.

Getting to the desk I find out my original flight has been overbooked and the only thing available is on the next plane, in the very back, and the aisle seat. I hate the back, the noise and turbulence is always the worse. Once on board I find that the plane is barely a quarter full. When I question the stewardess about what is going on, and if I could change my seat, she simply dismisses me with a shake of the head. “I'm sorry ma'am,” she looks at ticket without bothering to make eye contact. “We are experiencing computer problems and there might be a delay in takeoff. It is airline policy that all passengers must take their assigned seats through takeoff.”

“Thank you.” I mutter, knowing it is useless to complain or even further question. Taking my ticket back I dutifully march to the back of the plane muttering to myself while trying to keep my simmering Welsh temper in check. Of course there is no one in the back four rows save one person, and he is in the window seat next to mine.

Looking down at my new travel companion, I am thankful at least he isn't a 400 lb, 6'6” trucker with questionable hygiene. He looks like a college kid, busily tapping away on his laptop resting on his seat's tray-table. On further inspection I realize he is kind of cute, in a geeky engineer-major sort of way. He is thin, about my height, with well kept brown hair and surprisingly dressed in an crisp oxford shirt, dress pants and shoes.

“Hello.” I announce myself before sitting down, “Looks like were neighbors.”

“Hello.” He begins to speak in a polite but distracted voice, his attention still focused more on the computer than me. “I heard the delay . . .”

When he does look up he gives a wonderful pause as he gets a look at me for the first time. I can't help but give a slight coy grin, pleased that this thirty-something year old body can still can bring a college guy's train of thought to a sudden halt.

“Yes?” I answer as I can't resist teasing the poor bloke by taking off my jacket in front of him. “What about the delay?” I innocently ask.

“Um.” He clears his throat while I arch my back just an extra bit as I reach up and store my carry-on and jacket in the compartment above.

“The delay, I think shouldn't be too long.” He finally states while I remain stretched out before him as I fish for my i-pad from my stored carry-on above. With tablet in hand I look back down and unsurprisingly catch him starring at my chest. His eyes dart away and it is greatly amusingly watching him trying to regain forced eye contact. “I hope it won't be a problem for you ma'am.” He asks, clearly a bit excited and obviously nervous.

There is an innocence to his voice, and the slight twang of a southern accent, greatly adds to his charm. Glancing at his computer screen as I sit down, I realize he isn't that innocent, for I see a familiar sight; a getDare profile page.

When he realizes what I am looking at he quickly slaps the computer shut. Crossing his hands over his laptop he strikes an awkward pose, trying to look natural as if focusing in on our conversation.

Though adorable, he has exposed himself far much more than he could ever realize. For I saw his username and I know who he is. In fact we are friends and he has even experienced the cruel control and humiliation of Mistress Cariad, the online name I call myself when I go dom. The play between us has been fun, and the chemistry strong, though always within the confines of the anonymity of online fantasy.

Until now.

Crossing my legs I flick the back of my heels off and on my foot.

“No, the delay isn't at all problem.” I answer with a smile. “In fact, I plan to make full use of it.”