I twisted and thrust against his touch. He continued sucking and flicking and nipping at one nipple while circling the other with his fingers, trading off. Then one hand left my breast and trailed down to my hip, hooked under my thigh and grasped my bottom, my blood surged. His hand traveled to the small of my back, then slipped under the waistband of my pajama bottoms. I helped him push them down. His mouth returned to my breast. He slid his hand over my leg and to the tender skin of my inner thigh. I parted my legs and with the gentlest touch he barely brushed my trimmed pubic hair. This tickling touch pushed a sob of pleasure from me. He continued to rub my hair so that I experienced just the lightest stimulation of my mound, but I was so primed it was indescribably arousing. I was not aware of when his mouth left my breast, only that he now planted an open-mouthed kiss at the top of my pubic triangle. He followed it with another and another, adding to the tormenting teasing of. Off to one side of the Customs area there was a similar area for everyone who didn’t carry a US passport.I waved my hand at the girls and said ‘Come’, whistling ‘Immigration Man’ by the Beatles. No, they did ‘Tax Man’. I couldn’t remember who did ‘Immigration Man’. “Look at the world outside and let me in!”The girls both spoke perfect English. Anyone from England would say they spoke it better than me. Tough, we weren’t in England and I spoke American like the native I was. When among strangers, though, the girls usually pretended to not understand English and I thought that wise.Luggage was the usual crowd, the long wait, and the fight over who got theirs first. There was no option to simply wait until everyone else was done, as long before that there would be more planes landing and the conveyors would never really empty. The real reason I flew through Atlanta was because it wasn’t as bad here as Washington or New York.Eventually we got to Immigration and we stopped at the.
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