FATE'S CHANCE ENCOUNTER

FATE’S CHANCE ENCOUNTER



Outside the winds were howling like a raging banshee
Precursor to the big Nor’easter due in later that evening
Whipping skirts up, shredding umbrellas, sending hats a flying
Crowded were the airport unloading lanes
Travelers scurrying to and fro, to lands near and far
Some frantically, some nonchalantly. . . like time mattered not
Soon two strangers’ lives would intersect, ne’er to be the same

Two limos pulled up simultaneously
Out of one stepped a security detail
Presumably that of some dignitary
Heads turned. . . men stared, women just hmmphed

From the other limo, totally unrelated to the first
Debarked a man unaccustomed to attention
For in his line of work, it could mean death
Passing the security detail he begrudgingly acknowledged them
For a moment his eyes connected with hers
Seemingly oblivious to all about him except she
From there the game was on. . . set, match, and lust!!
Funny how impish and ornery be the Fates when doling out mischief

Check-ins completed, seats secured upon their respective flights
At opposite terminals, they each settled in; awaiting the boarding calls
As the hours waned, the flight marquee looked like a Christmas tree
Seems the weather folks miscalculated the Nor’easter’s arrival
Greens turning to reds. . . delays soon became cancellations
On the other side, she saw her flight had been cancelled as well
Seeing his on the board, he just sighed. Time for the executive suite bar

Having finally secured his room and bags dropped off, he showered
Afterwards, feeling renewed, decided to make his way downstairs
Walking into the Executive Barr and what should he see…
The most gorgeous pin-up set of honeyed thighs and leggs
Stood back and took the alluring view all in
Mused, somehow they seem vaguely familiar  

Greeted by Erin, his favorite bartender
She already knew his poison and had it waiting
Double Courvoisier with a splash of fresh pomegranate juice
Nodding to Erin, his eyes hinted towards the woman to his right
She laughed, slipped a note on bar embossed napkins
Turning around, ‘Excuse me, miss, you’ve very beautiful leggs’

She glanced in the mirror behind them, her intrigue piqued
Catching a glimpse of the manly voice’s owner, she just smiled
Thought she to herself, more must I know about him
Pondered, what a rather distinguished gentleman
Slight salt & pepper goatee, encasing fuckably kissable lips

What struck her most was his subtle swagger
Rocking a Russell Simmons Argyle Culture three piece
In her favorite color – rich deep chocolate
On his feet tan buckled Stacy Adams, stylish yet elegant
Noticed his hands were well kempt and large, too
Belying quiet strength and power. . . made her moist

He sensed a wondrous challenge in her gaze
Inner voice said she might be his undoing
Plucking at the air. . . get lost Ego
Id’s running this show tonight. . .

Turning to his comely adversary, ‘What be your poison, M’lady’
In a lilting dulcet southern whisper, “A Ritz Martini, please”
Lost in her eyes, images of she planted against the wall
His teeth gently nipping her ears, fingers intertwined
Before gingerly impaling her tight . . .

‘Erin, put the lady’s poison on my tab’
With her drink in hand, toasting him “My, Gentlemen still exist”
With a wry smile, he sarcastically notes ‘Who said I was a gentleman’
Rolling her tongue alongst those captivating lips, “I did”

Study long, study wrong. . . best not underestimate this vixen
Lingering just a step or two behind, admiring further the view
Feeling the heat of his eyes upon her ass, she threw his way a lil more sass
He just chuckled, knowing he had just been busted

She too had a mental moment, nearly losing her composure
He was cuffed and blindfolded, on his knees betwixt her thighs
His tongue working wonders uponst her long neglected clyt
Her legs quivered, shuddering at the very thought of. . .
Slightly startled by a slight brush against her thigh, reality returns

From the glare in his eye, she knew he mustn’t be taken lightly
Possessed of a deadly sensuality was he
A closet dom lurking beneath, lying in wait for his prey
The most dangerous of them all thought she
Her intuition beckoned walk away immediately
For a “switch” her intuition cried out. . . the ultimate carnal chameleon

‘Mind if we continue this conversation away from prying ears and eyes’
Finding an open table, they sat down
All the time no introduction had yet been made to one another
Somehow it was understood that it was best this way
Two strangers passing through the fog of ecstasy
Hmm. . . from here where do they venture
. . . from where to do they venture