She's traveling alone

I couldn't believe my luck. Her magnificent boobs; her long, strong legs; and her smooth, creamy skin were to die for. She smiled and giggled as she texted with her friends, her fingers flying with the dexterity of a girl who lives on her phone. I was curious about the odd juxtaposition of her revealing outfit and the giant cross she wore on her neck.

She was utterly transfixed by her phone and gave no indication that she noticed me ogling her. It probably happened so often that she was immune to the attention anyway. I watched her switch to a text thread with someone I assumed must be her boyfriend. Who else would she have in mind for what I saw as her most recent message?

I tried not to be a total gawker as the long boarding process continued. So long as the plane door was open, the AC wasn't working well; it was really fucking hot on the plane. Maybe that's why her shirt is open? I mused. Eventually, boarding was complete and the passengers were instructed to switch their phones to airplane mode. My seatmate, absorbed in her own world, did not comply.

As for me, I quickly snapped a picture of her and texted it to my friends on the plane--and the one who should have been sitting next to this goddess.

Alex: slut alert
Brad: OMG SWITCH PLACES WITH ME
Marcos: *dies* WHYYYYYYYYYYY
Jordan: Play your cards right bro...

Pleased with the reactions I got, I switched my own phone into airplane mode. Eventually, a flight attendant leaned over me and addressed my seat mate. "Excuse me, Miss. I need you to switch that to airplane mode."

The girl looked up, surprised. Then she returned to her phone. "OK, just a sec," she said.

The attendant stood there, not unlike an impatient teacher, and watched the girl text for another ten seconds or so. "Miss, I'm serious. Please turn off your phone."

"OK OK, shit, don't get your panties in a bunch," she spat.

"Excuse me?"

"FINE, ok, see?" The girl ostentatiously put her phone in airplane mode and slid it into her purse. "Happy now?"

The flight attendant rolled her eyes and walked away. The girl looked at me, "Total bitch, right?"

"Absolutely," I said without hesitating. "Like a fucking principal."

She laughed. "You're totally right! I bet she wanted to be a teacher but couldn't graduate from college so she went to stewardess school or whatever."

I continued the game. "Right. She was was hoping to learn Spanish by flying to Mexico but could only learn how to say 'Put your tray tables up.'"

"That's hilarious," the girl said. "I'm Britney, by the way." (Of course, I thought.)

"Simon," I said, extending my hand. She reached over with her right hand, showing me even more of her impressive cleavage as she took mine across the middle seat between us. Fuck, her fingers were soft.

And thus commenced the small talk. While the plane taxied, I learned that Britney was heading to London to meet her dad, who was there on a business trip. She was a rising senior in college, pre-med majoring in biology. As the AC cranked up, to my disappointment, she buttoned her shirt, though that did give me a chance to ask about her necklace.

"Oh, my boyfriend gave this to me," she said. She often went to church with him, and though she wasn't sure she was a "Christian or whatever," she did like the music.

Of course, I told her about myself as well. About my own studies, about the job I had lined up as a paralegal where I was going to study for the LSATs, and about the big trip I'd planned with my buddies.

"Man that sucks about your roommate," Britney said when I told her about Marcos missing the plane.

"Yeah, I know. But he'll catch up to us."

"Well, I guess on the bright side, I got to meet you, Simon!"

"Silver linings!" I said.

The plane was nearing takeoff, and suddenly, Britney started to get tense.

"So, since we're best friends now," she laughed, "can I make a confession?"

"I'm not a priest, but go ahead."

She laughed and smiled, continuing, "I'm _really _afraid of flying."

"Hey, that's OK. It's totally normal." I could tell that she was getting even more tense as the engines started to rev. Instinctively, I put my hand out on the seat between us, and Britney grabbed it and squeezed hard. She closed her eyes and held my hand during takeoff--which, since this was a huge international plane, took deliciously longer than usual.

Eventually, the plane leveled out, and Britney loosened her vice grip on my hand. I exaggeratedly shook it out, saying, "Fuck, man, you're strong!"

She laughed. "Sorry, I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Nothing that two shots of vodka won't fix," I said with a smile.

"Make that four!" she said, laughing nervously.

We did that thing where both people sense that it's time to stop talking to each other. I grabbed a book out of my laptop case; she stared at the gorgeous night sky through her window.

Everything was peaceful and undisturbed until....