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Double-Teamed at O’Hare Security
Flying home for Christmas was pretty much my least favorite part of the year. It’s not that I didn’t love my parents – although our relationship was…complicated – but I loved my life in Chicago. I had graduated college that May and was now working full-time in a job I loved after flogging my guts out as an intern for two summers. I had everything I wanted, for now.
Plus, I just downright hated airports. Always have, always will. The O’Hare airport, a forty-five minute train ride from my apartment on the North Side, was a particularly bad offender. With sprawling terminals, confusing traffic patterns, and, worst of all, nonsensical security arrangements, it had my anxiety high the moment I stepped off the Blue Line and onto the escalator at 9:15p.m. My flight was at 11:45; my parents were all the way in California, and the late-night flights were the cheapest. Being early to the airport helped me calm my nerves.
Once I was inside the double doors, I took off my coat and tied it around my waist. I’d dressed for comfort, of course. I tried to find a middle ground between the gray snowy landscape of the city and the warmth of LAX, where I’d arrive in the wee hours of the morning after a layover in Denver. That meant layers. A loose fitting tank top, sweatpants, and slides with socks. My most fashionable look? Definitely not. But, well suited for a long flight and a late-night layover? Absolutely.
In the chill of the airport, I found myself self-conscious. I hadn’t worn a bra in the name of benign more comfortable for my plane napping, and my nipples were hard from the air conditioning. Though my tank top was loose, it was still a bit of a show at the right angles. At least, since all I had was my backpack, I could cross my arms over my chest to cover up a bit. I didn’t want to bother paying for a suitcase, so my backpack was chock full of the essentials.
After checking in at the kiosk, I moved to security with my boarding pass and ID at the ready. For some reason, security was the part of the airport that made me the most nervous. I guess that’s probably true for everybody, but it made me feel silly nonetheless. I was a 5’3″ white girl with a Midwestern nice smile. Not exactly likely to be profiled by TSA.
These days, I kept my dark hair in a long bob, choppy bangs framing my face in front. I liked to think it was modern and youthful, but still professional. A far cry from the pink buzzcut of my early college years. I’d definitely put on the freshman fifteen, then the sophomore five or so, and then the graduation ten, and now I was curvy with 36Cs and nice round hips. As a teen, I’d been rail thin and a card-carrying member of the itty bitty titty committee, so this was a good change in my book, although I was certain Mom would have her share of off-handed comments about it during the holidays.
While I stood in the back of the long security line – two days before Christmas, worst time for traveling – my heart rate began to rise. There were a lot of people. And nobody was in a good mood, naturally. Lots of bumping shoulders without apologizing. Right behind me, a large family packed in with a screaming baby and two kids under seven tugging on Dad’s sleeve for attention. I tried not to grimace, clenching my teeth and trying to focus on the task ahead. I studied my boarding pass just to have something to look at. I read my name – Patterson, Adrienne Rose- over and over.
I tried to be a security line master. I wore shoes that were easy to slip off, made sure I didn’t have any metal, brought a separate bag for my laptop so I wasn’t rummaging through things. I just wanted to get in and out without any hassle. But my anxiety was high. Blood pooled in my cheeks, leaving me ruddy and nervous. The dad of the family behind me was standing too close for comfort, brushing up against my ass every once in a while. I couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose, but it was enough to put me near the edge of panic on top of my usual airport stress.
When it was my turn, I kicked off my shoes into the bin and placed my laptop carefully. Once I was a few people away from going through the metal detector, I eyed up the security guards. Much to my surprised, I recognized one of them. My ex-boyfriend, Beck. I knew he’d used to work TSA as a side job, but had no idea he’d gone back to it.
Most people hate seeing their exes in the wild, but Jon and I left things on good terms. We broke it off about a year ago because we wanted different things. He was 27 to my 21, so he wanted to get married right after I graduated, while I wanted to focus on my career for a few years after school. We still checked in with each other every few months, stayed friends on Facebook, all that.
God, though, he was still gorgeous. He had light brown hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and warm, kind hazel eyes. His hair was longer than we’d been together, pushed back and wavy. Think Jake Gyllenhaal after he put romcoms behind him. He was naturally more tan than me, even in the winter. He beylikdüzü escort was tall, at least compared to me, and had broad, muscular arms that could easily lift me up against a wall. My only regret about our breakup was losing the sex. On several occasions, I’d thought about offering up a friends-with-benefits dynamic with him, but figured it would be too complicated since he wanted to move on. I was a bit jealous of whatever girl he had to be dating at the moment.
The sight of him made me even more nervous. My blush went from pink to red. Thankfully, he was tactful. After noticing me in the line, he gave me a small smile, then tapped the other guard on duty on the shoulder. They switched places. This guard was black, clean-shaven, and smaller than Beck, with neat waves. Where Beck was sturdy, he was tall and lanky. Once I approached the metal detector, I could read his nametag: Dante. He had a nice smile as he greeted the people who came through ahead of me.
Still, my heart raced as I went through. I knew I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but the metal detector made me the most anxious. Dante smiled and directed me to stand at the center. I lifted my arms over my head and tried to steady my breathing. My backpack, shoes, and laptop went through the scanner to my left. Dante gestured for me to come out of the metal detector.
“Stay here for a minute, ma’am,” He said, calling Beck over to look at the screen.
Oh, god. My mind raced. Did I forget something in my backpack? Some bottle of perfume? Was my shampoo in too big of a travel container? Had I forgotten to empty my water bottle? I tried to reassure myself that whatever it was, I’d be able to throw it away and move on.
Beck looked me up and down and said, “We need to ask you a few questions. Do you mind stepping aside?”
I squeaked out, “No problem.”
With shaky hands, I collected my backpack, shoes, and laptop. Once I had myself together, I followed Beck around a corner to a small room. Tears bit at my eyes; I was fighting off a panic attack. I hated airports, and this sort of thing had never happened to me. Chances were I’d go to my gate and cry for a while before my flight started boarding in an hour. Par for the course for me when it came to flights, anyway. So many people were crying at the airport that nobody usually said anything.
The room was small, but it was nothing like the dimly lit gray interrogation rooms you see on TV or movies. The walls were sage green and the lighting was good. There were a couple comfortable chairs surrounding wooden tables. There was plane-themed art on the walls and a little kitchenette with counters, a fridge, and a microwave. Beck closed the door behind us.
Clutching my backpack to my chest (probably suspicious, Adrienne, quit it), I asked Beck, “Did I do something? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he almost laughed, but his expression was sympathetic. “It looked like you could use a minute to yourself. I know what your breaking point looks like, remember? This is the security break room; my break just started, so I figured I’d rescue you. Take a minute to breathe and relax, head out to your gate when you’re ready. You’re all good.”
Immediately, I was touched by the gesture. The nerves in my chest began to dissipate at the thought of him still wanting to take care of me after all this time. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, I know how much you hate airports.” He gave me a wave that said ‘no big deal.’ “You don’t need to be out there with all the holiday freak outs.”
I loosened my grip on my backpack and set it down by one of the chairs. I sat down and leaned back, trying to take more deep breaths. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“No worries. I still want to help you out when I can.” Beck shrugged, always so casual and collected. He’d always been my opposite in that way, cool when I was all sorts of nervous. “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
“I’m going to try to nap on the plane, but thanks.”
“Is it alright if I sit with you? I can go out to one of the lounges if you want.” When I said it was fine, I’d like the company, he grabbed a soda out of the fridge and popped it open. He sat in the chair across from me. “You flying back to California?”
“Yup. You know the drill; Dad picks me up and complains about the drive-“
“Mom picks apart your appearance until you’re in a silent rage, little sister acts too cool to hang out with you.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure the Christmas you spent with us made quite the impression.”
“Your family’s a bunch of charmers,” he snorted. Then, a bit abruptly, he asked, “You seeing anyone these days?”
“Ah,” I blustered a bit, “no, I’m, um, still doing the whole ‘focusing on work’ thing. Hessler’s ended up hiring me full-time.”
“Oh, that’s up, Adrienne! Congrats.” It sounded like he meant it, too.
“What about you?” I tried not to seem invested in the answer, but I was for sure curious. “Find a cute girl to settle down and make babies with yet?”
“Not beyoğlu escort quite, no.” He chuckled, “Couple promising dates, but nothing’s panned out.”
“Yeah, same sort of thing for me. Lots of hookups but none as good as you or-” The blush shot back into my cheeks. “Sorry, that was totally uncool to say.”
Voice laden with thick teasing, he replied, “No worries, I’m not surprised you think about how much of a sex god I am.” Then, a little more serious, he added, “For real, though, I still think about you, too. So don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, yeah?” Now it was my turn to tease, and I enjoyed it. “What do you think about?”
A light pink colored his cheeks. “You know, you always did this thing, where you’d catch my lower lip between your teeth, and that just-” he gave a little shiver “-made me crazy.”
Testing the waters a little, I added, “I always did know what to do with my mouth.”
“Yes,” he breathed, “yes you did.”
I stood up and opened the fridge, mostly just looking for something to keep me occupied so I wouldn’t get caught looking at his lips…or his hands…or his shoulders. Trying to keep my tone light and casual even though I was already starting to feel a bit hot and bothered, I replied, “You never had a problem keeping up, though. Definitely hard to find good pussy eating from a hookup.”
“You were never so complementary when we were dating.”
“Well, I should’ve been.” I shut the fridge and turned back to Beck. He watched me intently, waiting to see where I would take this. With the weight of his gaze making me feel a bit too warm for my liking, I said, “But, hey, we wouldn’t have worked out, right?”
He stood up and tossed his can in the recycling bin. “Well, worked out? Probably not. But we definitely had chemistry.”
“Definitely.” I said the word slow, moving it around my mouth. “De-fin-it-ely.”
He met me at the fridge, placing one hand next to my head so I was facing him. “You know, I thought a bunch of times about trying to fuck you one more time. Just for closure, or whatever.”
“Or whatever,” I laughed, my breath quickening. He was close enough that I could smell the mint on his breath; he was always chewing that Dentyne Ice gum, the kind that was so sharp and cool it cut right through anything else. My senses couldn’t help reacting to such a familiar scent. It made my mouth water in anticipation. Matching his gaze, I said, “I’ve thought the same thing, too, I just didn’t want to…interfere with anything.”
“Well, you certainly wouldn’t be interfering with anything if you just-“
I grabbed the collar of his uniform and kissed him, knowing that if I didn’t I would lose my nerve. Instantly, he smiled against my lips. Then, he took charge of the kiss, dropping his right hand to my hip and pressing me up against the cold fridge. My skin bristled with the mix of hot skin and cool metal. His thumb went under the hem of my tank top, finding the bare skin of my side. His firm, confident touch sent a shockwave straight to my pussy. I hadn’t gotten any in weeks, and this was that kind of familiar that knew exactly what to do.
His rough hand found the side of my face, trailing down my neck and over my chest. When he brushed against my hard nipple through my tank top, I let out a tiny gasp.
He chuckled darkly, “Christ, Adrienne, you just had to wear something so thin.”
I swallowed hard, trying to keep myself under control before things got out of hand. “I wanted to be comfortable for my flight.”
“Oh, please,” he teased, “you just love showing off.”
“Yeah, I can’t play coy with you.” I leaned my head back and took a deep shaky breath. “God, you have no idea what you do to me.”
“Yes I do.” He reached his hand under my top and tentatively found my breast. At the moment of contact, I felt his cock, restrained by his black work paints, twitch against my hip. He kneaded my nippled between his thumb and forefinger, twisting with medium firmness. My whole spine tingled and I gasped again. Then, still pinching my nipple, his lips made contact with my exposed neck. He sucked lightly, dragging his tongue from the base of my shoulder up to my neck. I was turning into a puddle under his touch. “You were always so fun to play with. Is this all okay?”
I nodded eagerly and reached down. Without thinking, I pulled my tank top over my head and placed it on the counter next to us. Beck looked down and his expression was overcome with a greedy lust. “Your curves are just delicious. Don’t listen to a damn thing your mom says about your body.”
“I never do.”
“Right, always so confident about your appearance.” He dropped down and replaced the fingers on my nipple with his teeth, lightly. Then he stopped, for one second, and looked up at me. “As you should be.”
“Thank you,” I giggled a bit as he nibbled on me. His other finger pinched and tugged my right nipple while he sucked on the left. I moaned, maybe a little too loudly, but I didn’t care. His touch was intoxicating. bomonti escort After a minute of that, though, I came back into my body and said, “This is crazy; you’re at work!”
“As if this is the first time we’ve fucked somewhere-“
In the middle of his sentence, the door opened. The other guy, Dante, appeared. He wasn’t looking at us but down at his phone, so I scrambled to cover up. Too slow. He looked up and saw me, half naked, with Beck practically on top of me.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” He quickly shut the door behind him, trying to prevent other onlookers from seeing anything. To lighten the awkwardness, he laughed, “Damn, you must be Adrienne. Beck is always talking about how perfect your tits are.”
I snorted and pulled my tank top up, covering my face with my hands. “I’m glad that’s my reputation around here.”
He chuckled as Beck apologized. With a ‘don’t worry about it,’ the awkwardness evaporated. After all, we were all young and attractive people. I wasn’t about to slut shame myself for something as silly as making out in a break room.
“Yeah, you should hear the way this guy talks about you. Perfect tits, great ass.” Tentatively, Dante added, “Plenty of other details.”
I mock-slapped Beck on the arm. “Like what?”
“Oh, you know, nothing too bad. Except…” He looked at Dante, who nodded with a little bit of laughter in his eyes. “
I smacked him again. “Spit it out, you coward!”
“Like how we never got to have that threesome you always wanted.”
I looked between the two of them. Beck was right, of course. I’d always wanted to try group sex, even talked about doing it with a couple of his friends, but the timing never really worked out. We were both bi, so it wasn’t like he wouldn’t enjoy it too. And here I was, two objectively hot guys in front of me, with a couple hours to kill before I needed to be anywhere. Hell, I didn’t even have a bra to take off.
“Wait, this isn’t, like, a set-up or anything, right?”
Dante scoffed at the idea, “No, I’m not a sleaze or anything. Beck’s just a good friend of mine is all. We can 100% just go back to drinking cokes and chatting.”
“Or…” Beck said, walking back to lock the door. “We could have some fun before you have to have a painful, sexless week of holiday cheer.”
Maybe my head was cloudy from getting so turned on earlier, but the proposition made sense to me. Locked door, no security cameras, two young guys paying attention to me. Dante was a few inches taller than Beck and had an air of confidence that attracted me to him. So I just said, “Yeah, I’m in.”
Beck laughed and breathed, “Fuck yeah.”
Not a second later, they were on me. Beck lifted my shirt back over my head and then unbuttoned my pants. I yanked his shirt off greedily, eager to get my hands all over his body again. As he pushed me against the fridge and kissed me passionately, I reached down and unbuttoned his pants, freeing his cock in a few swift motions. He was rock hard and just as perfect as I remembered.
Of course, he was surprised to see I wasn’t wearing panties either. I shrugged when he gave me a look, making another excuse about being comfortable on the plane. Beck directed me to sit down in one of the chairs and spread my legs.
“Yeah, eat that cunt, man,” Dante said as Beck positioned himself in front of me.
Behind him, Dante stripped, first taking off his shirt and then pants. He revealed a chiseled body. He was leaner than Beck, but definitely just as fit. His cock was bigger and longer than Beck’s already sizeable member, and it made my mouth water. My mind was already racing with the possibilities. I’d never been able to take two cocks before, but Beck and I had played around with butt plugs and dildos. I was soaking wet before I’d even been fucked.
While I ogled Dante’s cock, Beck dove into my pussy. With more than a year of muscle memory, it only took him a second to get into a rhythm that made my toes curl. He sucked in a delicious pace that already made me feel so, so close. Then he found my cunt and slipped in two fingers, pumping them against my walls. He reached up with his other hand and took my nipple between his fingers, pinching hard. I practically rolled my clit into his mouth with how hot that was.
I threw my head back, mouth wide open. At that, Dante said, “Now that’s a pretty sight.”
Already so turned on, I reached out my hand and moaned, “Give me your cock.”
He positioned himself next to the chair, propping one leg up on its arm. It was the perfect height for him to slide his cock between my lips. I loved sucking cock, but there was nothing as intense as doing it while Beck was working on my clit. I had to open my jaw wide to fit even the head and beginning of the shaft of Dante’s dick in my mouth, so I fisted the base to shove it deeper.
He sucked in a hard breath and grunted. “Fuck, Beck wasn’t lying about that mouth of yours.”
He reached the back of my throat, but I didn’t stop. My eyes stung with tears but the sensation of gagging on him only intensified the clenching warmth in my pussy. Gently at first, Dante began to fuck my mouth. When it became abundantly clear I could take it, he increased the pace, hands on his hip and head thrown back in pleasure. Spit pooled around my mouth and dripped down my chin.
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