From DeepBlue@DittosRush.com Tue Apr 08 14:12:20 1997
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From: DeepBlue <DeepBlue@DittosRush.com>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Adventures of Carrie - Waiting #7  Slut/Wife MMF
Date: Tue, 08 Apr 1997 13:12:20 -0500
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****************
The following story is intended only for adult reading.  Those under the
age of eighteen or those bothered by sexual explicit language or
depiction should not continue.  The actions and attitudes portrayed may
be deemed offensive by some readers.   

I am a petite, five foot tall, 100 lb., usually brunette female with a
34B - 23 - 32 figure.  I have been married to my husband, Doug for
eleven great years and I am now thirty four.  I find it easier to relate
a story in which I am involved in the third person.  E-mail comments are
always welcome - DeepBlue@DittosRush.com

Enjoy! 

***************
Adventures of Carrie - Waiting #7  Slut/Wife MMF

	The Airport


	Around eleven o'clock, Carrie started carefully putting on her make up
and getting dressed to go to the airport.  Forty-five minutes later, she
looked approvingly in the mirror.  The gold chain draped between her
breasts showed through the chocolate material of her dress but she
decided to leave it on anyway.  After all, her nipples and rear end
showed through pretty easily as well.  She sprayed the bed with Doug's
favorite perfume and added some more of it to her thighs.  After
checking everything a second time, she went to the car.

	The night air felt good as she made the half hour trip to the airport. 
The stars were bright when they weren't hidden by the glare of the
freeway lights.  The light traffic made the journey enjoyable even
though Carrie hated driving on freeways.  As a passenger she was fine
but when she drove, the close proximity of the cars and the speed made
her uneasy.   The breeze swirled her light dress up around the top of
her legs, exposing the top of her stockings.  Some of the trucks that
she passed blew their horns in appreciation of the view.

	The parking lot was not crowded at this time of night so she was able
to park close to the entrance of the arriving passenger area.  After
again dabbing on some more perfume, it was a brief walk to the
terminal.  When she stepped inside, she observed that it was far
brighter than she had counted on.

	"Haven't they heard of conservation," she asked herself, as she glanced
down to see how obvious her nudity was under her dress.

	"Not much I can do about it now," she observed.  "They'll just have to
suffer."

	Carrie stayed in the darker areas of the isles as she made her way down
the concourse but the man at the security checkpoint got an excellent
view of her as she went through the metal detector.

	"You're obviously not carrying anything that's concealed," he said as
she picked up her purse from the examination conveyor.

	"I'm certainly not," Carrie responded with a smile.

	She was a little relieved that the lighting was somewhat more subdued
beyond the checkpoint.  Though the looks and comment had pleased her,
she didn't want to attract so much attention that someone would complain
to the authorities.  As she walked, the gentle tugging of the chain on
her nipples and the anticipation of seeing Doug after nearly a week
excited her and she could feel the cooling effect of the moistness
between her legs.  Her lustful feelings of desire were growing with each
step as she approached the waiting area of gate 24.

	"Delayed" jumped out at her from the signboard above the check-in
counter.  In her excitement, she hadn't bothered to confirm the arrival
time before she had left the house.  "FLT 803 Ar - 2:45"; nearly two
hours from now.

	"Great," she thought to herself.  "Doug could have been on his way to
seconds by that time."

	The crudity of her own thoughts surprised her and she mentally
reprimanded herself.   Almost as quickly, she excused herself.

	"Nothing feels better than being horny.  Well, --- almost nothing!"

	Carrie quickly decided that returning home was not a practical
solution.  She had passed a small bar & grill that was still open back
on the concourse so she retraced her steps and entered.  Picking an
unobtrusive corner booth, she slid across the cool vinyl and ordered a
drink from the waitress.  She sipped it slowly as she looked out at the
lights of the taxiways, recalling the events of the last few days.

	"Weather in Boston." 

	"What," she asked as she turned to see who was speaking?

	"Weather in Boston.  That's what caused the delay on 803.  A front
moved through just before they were scheduled for take-off so they
waited on the ground."

	He was a good looking man, a little too tall, but with a nice face.  He
was dressed in a Captain's flight suit and leaned on the back of the
seat behind Carrie, looking beyond her to the runways and into the dark.

	"Is that the reason," she asked?

	"Yes, but they're on their way now and should make the 2:45 arrival
time.  You meeting someone on 803?"

	"Yes," she replied looking at his eyes.

	"Lucky man," he said as he looked down at her for the first time and
smiled.  It sounded casual and sincere and not like a come-on at all.

	"Thank you," she said as she returned his smile.  "I'll take that as a
compliment."

	"As it was indeed intended," he replied.  "May I join you?  I'm waiting
on 803 too, but I don't want to intrude."

	"Please!  Sit down,"  Carrie gestured to the seat next to her and moved
to allow him room.  She hated waiting for anything by herself and he
seemed a perfect companion.

	He slipped into the booth and introduced himself as John Cooper, a
pilot with the airlines that Doug was flying with tonight.

	"I'm supposed to take the plane on to LA but, because of the lateness
and some weather west of here, they'll probably cancel.  Won't know
until the flight gets in."

	"I thought the flight ended here."

	"Actually, it does.  We're moving a lot of planes around this week to
match up with the passenger loads in certain areas.  We'll fly empty if
we go."

	Carrie had always been fascinated by airplanes and enjoyed hearing him
talk about them.

	After talking for some time about his job and the different aircraft,
he changed the subject by saying, "What about you?  What do you do and
who is so important to get you out so late at night -- a boyfriend?"

	"I'm a writer and do consulting work.  The guy I'm here to meet is my
husband, Doug.  He's been in Boston all week."

	"I see."  He paused and then rather sheepishly continued.  "I have to
confess that I didn't just happen in here.  I saw you coming through the
security gates out there and I've been following you.  I was mesmerized
by what you are wearing."

	"By what I'm wearing or not wearing," Carrie asked rather deliberately?

	"Yes!" replied John.  "But don't get me wrong.  I'm not going to hassle
you.  I'll leave right now if you want."

	"No!  Stay where you're at.  I'm enjoying the company and can't find
you too strange of a man to follow someone dressed like this."

	She went on to explain that she had really thought the lights would be
low and she wouldn't be quite so obvious.  She also added that Doug
enjoyed her showing off and that he would enjoy seeing her this way.

	"But don't get me wrong either.  If I didn't enjoy it also, I'd
probably be at home or in jeans," she added.

	"When I said 'Lucky guy', I meant it.  And though he may enjoy it too,
you wear clothes as though you take pleasure in them.  It's something
about the way you move."

	"Thank you again, kind sir," she replied, relaxing again with her new
pilot friend.

	"I've got to know something however, since we're being rather frank
anyway.  Are they pierced?"

	Carrie looked puzzled and then laughed aloud.  "No, no, not on your
life.  They have tiny lassos things on each end of the chain."  She
could feel her nipples growing more rigid as though they knew they were
being talked about.

	"I'm not into any type of pain," she went on to explain.  "Just a lot
of fun that some say can be a little kinky at the same time."

	"Good," John replied.  "That suits my picture of you better."

	The conversation had obviously gone beyond casual for them now and
Carrie could sense her growing excitement and diminishing inhibitions. 
When she felt his hand brush against her leg she ignored it and when he
later touched her leg deliberately during conversation, she pressed it
toward him.  He had apparently gotten the positive signals by then and
began running his fingers gently up and down the top of her thigh as
they talked.  She could feel the tips of them through the thin fabric
and it was making her very warm all over, particularly between her
legs.  She slowly, to slowly for him to notice, began pulling the skirt
of her dress toward her waist until she felt his fingers touch the bare
skin at the top of her stockings.

	"Now it's up to him," she thought, while continuing the conversation.

	"Are you married, John?"

	"Not any more.  She didn't like my being gone so much.  And she, --
well, had other interests that she wasn't willing to share."

	"Sharing makes everything work.  At least it does with Doug and I," she
replied attempting to ease his mind.

	"It should with everyone.  We would all be happier."  He was toying his
fingers at the top of her stockings and making tiny circles on the cool
skin of her inner thigh.

	"John, I need to tell you something," Carrie said in a serious voice.

	He stopped the motion of his fingers but with his hand still on her
thigh.  

	"What," he asked?

	"It's your choice but you either need to stop what you're doing or we
need to find a much more private place."

	After a second's pause, his fingers moved further up her leg and
continued their circular motion.  Carrie responded by opening her legs
enough to allow him to explore anywhere he liked.  She felt them slide
over her mound and touch the lips next to her entrance.

	"Do you know of a place we can go," she asked him?

	He took her by the hand and led her out of the bar and to a door on the
concourse.  After punching several digits into the security lock, he
held open the door for her and led her down some stairs to what appeared
to be a storage room.  The minute they entered, he turned and ran his
hands over her pointed breasts.  They had a long and passionate kiss
before Carrie stepped back and bulled the dress off over her head.  She
stood in front of him , dressed only in the chains dangling between her
breasts and her garter belt, stockings and shoes.  She quickly unzipped
his pants and unbuttoned his shirt as John took off his jacket.  His
pants fell to the floor around his legs.  He wore no underwear and his
hard erection was standing straight up between them.

	Carrie put her arms around his neck and pulled herself up against his
chest, feeling his hardness as it pressed against her stomach.  Putting
a hand under each cheek, he raised her until she felt the tip of his
shaft slip between her legs.  Wrapping her legs around him, she eased
slowly down, surrounding his tool with her wetness and feeling it as it
penetrated her.  Motion was slow and gently at first, while Carrie
savored each long stroke as she rose and fell.  Gradually the rhythm
increased.  Within a few minutes they were in the throws of a totally
lust-filled revelry, each of them thrusting wildly at the other.  The
moans and muffled screams were clear as they pumped and bounced
together.  Carrie was coming in an almost continuous orgasm when John,
with a low growl, spent himself into her.  Their motion slowed and then
stopped as she hung on him, her arms about his neck and her legs wrapped
tightly around his waist.  His shaft was still buried deep inside her.

	"Wow!"

	"You can say that again," said John in a low gravely voice.

	"Wow," exclaimed Carrie again as she raised off of his still firm
erection.

	The white moisture dripped on the floor between Carrie's feet as she
let go of him and leaned back against a stack of boxes.

	They looked at each other for a moment and suddenly burst out in
simultaneous laughter.

	"Wouldn't we make a great Polaroid shot for a porno magazine," Carrie
blurted out between laughs.

	"Or the folks back home," John sputtered.

	It took them several minutes to regain their composure before they
could start getting dressed again.  Carrie found some tissue to clean
herself up before pulling her dress back on.  As her dress fell over her
head, John leaned over to suck her still chained nipples.

	"The marvels of science," he said as he helped her pull the dress the
rest of the way down.

	As they walked toward the door Carrie reached for his hand.  Giving it
a gentle squeeze, she said, "Thank you for sharing you."

	"And thank you," John replied, smiling as he returned her grasp.

	Back up on the concourse, they bid hasty farewells.  Doug's plane was
about to land and she wanted to be there to greet him, but she slipped
her card into John's hand before they parted.

	"See you again, I hope," she said as she went toward the gate.