Same old travel, somehow not quite the same

Traveling as much as you do, the process has become totally automatic, a common sequence of events that you run through entirely on autopilot. The drive to the airport. Which lanes to stay in as all the others branch off to get you to the parking garage, and the parking spots that are far enough from the doors to generally be available, but not too far. Waiting in line for security, then unfolding and opening your luggage just enough so that it doesn't get pulled for an extra examination, and the inevitable discussion about demo medical product. Then back on with shoes and belt and a walk to one or another restaurant for lunch. Then to the gate, eventually to shuffle down the jetway and sit for an hour or two or three of flight. Then shuffling off the plane, through some other airport to rent some other car, and to drive to some hotel.

Today feels different, however. Today, as you drive, instead of zoning out and shutting off your brain keeps flashing back to the feel of Kate's legs, the taste of her pussy, the sight of her mouth wrapping around your cock. As you walk through the airport, instead of paying just enough attention not to run in to anybody, you are noticing shapely legs and red lips and the curves of breasts. In the security line, when the travel officer looks up and down your body, you do the same to hers. At the restaurant, you are distinctly aware of how close your server is standing as she takes your order, and of the way her posture accentuates her curves. Sitting at the gate, instead of unfocused eyes you are aware of everybody around you, drawn from movement to movement. On the plane, instead of immediately putting on noise-cancelling headphones, you listen to the conversation around you, catching snippets of conversation and inflection. The flight attendants brushing against your shoulder as they push the food and drink carts up and down the aisle send a shiver through you. The jostle of deplaning is cacophanous, the noises sharp and distinct instead of their usual muddle. At the luggage carousel, your eyes are drawn to every behind that sticks out as its owner bends over to pick up her baggage. Checking in to the hotel, as the clerk scans from your driver's license to your face, her eyes meet yours and her face betrays a quick flash of surprise before she demurely looks down and away, back at the computer to finish the check in process.

Once in your room, you kick off your shoes, pull back the top comforter to sit on the bed, and check your phone. There is a new post in the chat room, as well as an indicator of another channel with unread messages.

k: #show me when you touch yourself.

The tag #show is a link into the unread channel, and in it are three images. The first two are the pictures that Kate took of you and your cock this morning. The third is a photo taken from what appears to be Kate's point of view - that is to say, from eye height, looking down her body. She is slouched in her office chair, her butt perched on the forward edge of it, and her skirt is again lifted and bunched up around her waist. Her left hand is inside her underpants, tenting them out and away from her body, and the tips of her first three fingers rest just inside her vulva pressing up against her clit.

You have 3 XP, -1 Hard, +3 Hot, +1 Cool, -1 Control, Cunnilingus and Old Habits Die Hard (2). Desire levels: Kate +0, Rachel -1.

Roll +control (-1: -1 control) to show her you turned on in a way that will really turn her on as well. This seems roughly analagous to the Whip It Out move, so +control feels like the right check.