📘 Before take off

Apr 30, 2020 | 1 comment

“Have a nice flight, love. Call me when you get to the hotel”.

“Sure, bye. Take care!”

Another one of his fucking business trips, another weekend that I would have to spend on my own. This man has made me hate airports. Somehow all the nice memories that I used to have from the beginning of beautiful trips has given it’s place to melancholy and often anger.

I wasn’t even in my usual mood of enjoying a coffee there, while gazing all those handsome pilots, flight attendants, policemen and security staff, walking here and there at the terminal dressed in their sexy uniforms. Call me when you get to the hotel, yeah right, he will probably not. Ah, I am sorry, got so much to do, you know how it is, I never forget you, sure I know, seen that same old movie on rerun many times before.

I was slowly walking towards the exit of the departures hall, when I suddenly heared a familiar voice shouting my name. Definately a big surprise! After almost four years that I haven’t seen him, Farhan made a whole airport looking at him and me smiling again.

“God, man, what are you doing here?”

“Hey, long time no see”.

“Hmm, don’t tell me you missed me”, I teased him with a naughty look.

“Haha! My wife and my son are leaving for some days. I just wait her flight to depart”.

“You have a son!”, I was so happy and proud for him.

“Yeah. Tell me, do you have time for a coffee?”

Of course I had. Farhan was a big crash many years ago, one of my biggest in general to be honest. I met him while working at a printing company and he as a driver for one of our paper suppliers. He was around 25 years old at that time, very young yet manly, already married in his country and with a mature attitude for his age. Having migrated from Bangladesh only some months ago, he could still not speak our language very well, but his kind manners and distinctive smile made him so adorable that you didn’t need much talking.

We started hanging around, I offered myself to help him with the language, we became friends and later, after inviting him home one night for my birthday, I found myself on my knees sucking his cock and taking his seed as a precious present. Over the following years he worked hard to build his new life, collect money to bring his young wife and complete a family here. After he made it, we couldn’t keep in touch so often as before and eventually, our new jobs and every day schedule led us almost completely lose contact.

Watching him walk next to me, I couldn’t help noticing how the years that passed made him look even more handsome now in his mid 30’s and more nicely dressed. He used to be very thin, although strong, now he gained weight, even grew a belly that looked very cute on him. We went to sit at a cafe at the second floor of the airport terminal. Indeed, we had a lot to say.

“I forgot to answer one of your questions before”, he said at some point lowering the volume of his voice, like he was about to reveal some secret.

“Which one?”

“You asked me if I missed you”.

“Ah, please don’t worry, I was just joking”.

“Yeah, but this is not a joke”, he replied while bringing his chair closer to mine. He took my hand under the table and put it between his legs. He was hard. “See what I mean?”

“Farhan, what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Don’t worry, nobody sees us”.

His cock was getting harder as I was rubbing it slowly, trying to be as discreet as possible. I recalled the old times, when I was often having it inside my mouth and my ass. My cheeks were burning. Farhan was heavy breathing.

“Unzip me and put your hand inside”, I clearly remember this mood. More demanding as he is getting hornier.

“Farhan…”, I was scared, looking all around us.

“Just do it, don’t worry”, and I did.

After some minutes, he took my hand out of his pants again and zipped his pants.

“I want to fuck you”

“What? Where?”

“I’ll tell you what we will do. On the third floor, there are some prayer rooms. Nobody goes there, I’ve been and it’s always empty. Go first, and wait for me in the Muslim room”.

“Are you sure?”, I was both shocked and intrigued by his idea.

“Don’t worry. If we see someone in there, then I will just pray for two minutes and we will go”, he told me. “Go and wait for me”.

Prayer rooms. I had no idea such thing exists. A little door right next to the elevator leading to a narrow alley. On the right, a little Christian chapel and on the left two doors, one with a “Muslim room” sign and the other with no sign at all. I opened the Muslim room and went in. I was alone. The floor was covered with beautiful colorful carpets, there were some seats and a copy of the Koran on a little table. It was silent, warm and nice. I sat and waited. Some minutes later the door opened.

“We are alone. Nobody is in the chapel as well and no cameras”, Farhan was smiling.

He took me in his hands and we started kissing like fire. I felt like time never passed for us. All these years just disappeared as I was feeling his body, his lips, his strength while holding me. Yeah, I missed him and I also missed that fire of wild lust, which was never easy for me to find anyway. I dropped to my knees in front of him, right there, inside a Muslim prayer room, ready to sin.

“Not here, maybe someone gets in, we cannot be safe”, he told me and asked me to stand again while holding my hand. “Outside, at the end of the alley, there is a little toilet. Let’s go there, it’s better and we can lock the door”.

A new altar, this little airport toilet became our special little prayer room. A temple for both of us to worship pure desire and sin. Farhans’ brown thick cock was as beautiful and as strong as I remembered and I couldn’t stop sucking him until I felt his sperm filling my throat. He then turned me over to once again claim his old empire of burning flesh. All of a sudden, it felt so good and so natural having him inside me, like he was not there originally to say goodbye to a wife and a son, like I was not there to say goodbye to a boyfriend. Now his new sons were inside me, as his second load was tingling my whole body like a drug.

“What will you do on the weekend?”

“Nothing. I’ll be alone”.

“Are you free?”

“Free for you”.

Everything happens for a reason. Farhan restored my love for airports …and I found the way to restore his place in my life from that day. 

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1 Comment

  1. ahmet said nursoy

    this might be my favourite story on this website

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