Stranger Sex at London Airport

This happened to me about 35 years ago, when I was around 20.
The announcement came over the tannoy, all flights from London Heathrow were delayed. The fog was settling in. I reread the same newspaper page again and sighed. So close to leaving, I'd even made it to the departure gate for my trip to Paris.
Across from my gate was another clutch of passengers waiting to depart for another destination, their flight also delayed. It looked like being a long night on uncomfortable chairs.
A blonde woman much older than me waiting at the adjacent gate caught my eye.
Twice.
Then again. Her smirk wasn't exactly a wink but it said the same. Excited and nervous, I stared down at the paper. Her destination said Copenhagen, and she looked pretty Danish. Pretty and Danish, in fact - blonde hair bunched up on her head, white blouse, dark jacket, long skirt, brown knee-high boots. And that mischievous look, lasered onto me.
I felt targeted, in the best possible way. We played the staring game, both smiling when one of us looked away first. She looked in her mid-40s, and so mysterious, so overwhelmingly attractive.
We stared and played and smiled and grinned and after around 20 minutes of the distant, no-talking flirting, bayburt escort she just stood up, and imperiously nodded her head for me to follow her.
Of course I did. No hesitation. She beckoned me and I tried to look casual as I followed her away from the waiting passengers. I was about 20 metres behind her, as she swung a sharp left into a bathroom.
The toilets at Heathrow were different then, individual cubicles. She left the door ajar and, my heart pumping, I pushed inside. We both immediately laughed, loud and hard. It broke any tension or awkwardness and she bolted the door behind me. We immediately kissed, deep and long.
I had no idea what was going to happen, but we kissed and kissed and kissed until she unbuckled my belt. I turned her around, her palms flat against the wall, her long unpainted fingernails splayed perfectly symmetrically, bracing herself as I bunched her skirt up around her waist with one hand, pulling her panties down around her thighs with the other.
She was laughing and gasping and dripping wet. The bathroom was comically small, filled with an atmosphere of excitement, daring adventure, eroticism and basic fun. My thumb pushed inside her, making her bartın escort sigh as she tried to open her legs wider despite the panties stuck above her knees.
She leaned forwards and down more, her back arching as I rolled the head of my cock against her slippery lips, held her hips in my hands and, my heart pumping, I pushed inside.
She moaned and bucked back hard with shocking strength. This was to be fast and widely enthusiastic. Raw and primitive, I fucked her hard as she rode back onto me, clenching and gripping my cock inside her.
The confined space exaggerated the sounds of her gasping, my groaning, and the wet smack of cock slamming into soaking pussy.
Her nails scraped the wall as she came, panting and convulsing. Her legs buckled and I held her up with my arm around her waist as she came, trembling and shaking, the force of her aftershocks ripping through her body.
She finally calmed, and as she turned around her skirt fell back down to her knees, and she kissed me hard. My hands pulled her buttons open to reveal beautifully freckled breasts as I licked and bit her pink pebble-hard nipples, dragging them up between my teeth.
She dug her hands into the back of ığdır escort my head, her nails in my scalp as I reached my hand up under her skirt, sucking and tasing her nipples hard as my fingers softly, tenderly, maddeningly slowly caressed between her thighs.
I traced my way back to her wetness, grazing her clit with the tip of my finger, feeling her body begin to shudder again. I kissed her mouth and, her blue eyes locked on mine, I pushed two fingers deep inside her, twisting and hooking up to rub her spot.
The heel of my hand grinding against her clit as I fingered her hard, she clung onto me desperately, her nails deep in the muscles on my neck and shoulders, moaning loudly into my mouth as she came again.
She kept eye contact with me as she sank slowly and classily to her knees, and took me in her mouth. Her tongue swirled expertly around the head of my cock, an experienced woman with a very young man. I came almost straight away, unloading and satisfying myself on her outstretched tongue, her scarlet lipstick smeared across my cock.
It all happened with surreal speed. She stood up, us both panting hard, and we laughed again. We kissed one last time, long and hard. The memory of tasting my cum in her mouth still turns me on.
She left first, patting my face and smiling. We never spoke a word the entire time, and didn't need to.
She must be elderly by now, but I wish I could tell her how I've cherished that memory all these years, but it still arouses me, and I hope she remembers it as fondly as I do.