He braved it and went down the back galley and spoke to us. And then we finally had our little moment. He told me his name, and what he did for work. He wanted to know my name and where I was from. He was very warm and kind and apologetic about being close to anything racist. I had nothing but dirty thoughts about him, kissing his lips and fondling his moobs, feeling his big bulgy cock under his pants. Yum.
My colleague found him still hanging around the back talking to me. She said, "You're still here Mr Wilson?!" I joked and said, "He's chatting me up!" She replied, "He's probably not your type?" and laughed. Mr Wilson answered back, "He is my type." Then my colleague retorted, "He likes to party." Mr Wilson answered, "Woohooo, let's party!" and looked me in the eye. This was my favourite part.
Sometimes I shock myself at the type of guys I get turned on with. Sometimes, fat people just really turn me on. Sometimes old people really turn me on. And sometimes, fat old people really just gets me going.
Alas, it wasn't yet meant to be as we were disturbed and I didn't get the chances I wanted with him. I pretended I was super busy and left him to the girls to chat him up. But I did get to follow him at the end of the flight. I got to hold his bag and shake his hands as we carefully put him on his cab as that's how drunk he was.haha
Ah, Mr Wilson, I hope we meet again.
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