Kim’s Journey Ch. 07

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For a young girl experiencing life on her own, working at the airport hotel presented some exceptional experiences. I knew when I took the job, there would be many times when guys would flirt with me and do everything they could to get me into their rooms. And yes, some of them were even successful in doing just that, but working the evening shift and checking in all those business travelers would also present situations that would leave an indelible mark on me.

Let me first explain the layout. It has changed a lot since then, but in the 1980’s, when you exited the airport where I went to college, there were 2 hotels right next to each other. Both were three-story hotels. Down the road maybe a quarters of a mile was another old mom and pop type hotel and a 24-hour diner that had been there for years. Everything else was at least 3 or 4 miles away towards the city, so the area was pretty isolated. Where I worked was just a two story hotel and a swimming pool, nothing else. But the three story hotel across the parking lot from us also had a swimming pool, a restaurant and a nightclub they called The Hideout. The nightclub wasn’t much and there were rarely ever more than a few people there at once, but for business travelers, especially those without a rental car, it was the only option available. The whole time I worked at the hotel, the restaurant part was boarded up, so the diner down the road was all there was.

Another thing I quickly learned was that we had a lot of regular customers – sales reps, district managers – that sort of thing. They were men mostly, but an occasional business woman of some sort would come through. If you made an effort to be friendly with them, which I always did, I’m just an outgoing sort of person, they would usually be friendly back to you and often the men would flirt a bit before going up to their rooms. Over time, you would get to know them, at least on a casual basis.

One of the first men I got to know anything about was a man named Paul Johnson (not his real last name). Paul was in his fifties. He was a very distinguished looking gentleman. He was tall, about 6’1″ or 6’2″, thin built with just a hint of a few extra pounds that come with age, but still very fit, and he had salt and pepper hair. He was always extremely well groomed and wore a tailored business suit. With my grandmother being a seamstress, I noticed that type of thing. In fact, our very first conversation was about his suit and my mention that my grandmother was known for her suit making. Paul was also a bit soft spoken, but when he did speak, his baritone voice and slight southern accent were dripping with eloquence that would catch any woman’s attention. Perhaps his most noticeable feature, at least to me, was his grey/blue eyes that looked like he could see right through your soul.

At the time, the air traffic controllers had gone on strike that summer. You may recall that President Reagan fired them because of all of the problems their strike was causing with business travel and the economy. It took them a long time for things to get back to normal and Paul got caught up in that one evening and didn’t arrive at the hotel to check in until after 10:00 that night.

When he came in, I could tell he was visibly upset about something. He just wasn’t the friendly man he had been the few other times we had visited. I went through the registration process, and tried to make small talk, but his answers were short and to the point. He wasn’t being rude, but it was obvious he was upset.

As we were wrapping things up and I gave him his room key, I took somewhat of a bold step. His left hand was on the counter and I reached over and placed my right hand on top of his.

“Mr. Johnson, is everything okay.” I asked.

This seemed to catch him off guard a bit. He peered at me with those beautiful eyes, paused as he took a breath, then I felt his thumb close around mine as he pulled my thumb up against the palm of his hand and lightly stroked the backside of it. This minuscule gesture sent a spark through me.

“I’m sorry, … it’s just been a bad trip.” And then another pause as we looked into each other’s eyes.

I thought he was going to pull his hand away and end the conversation there, but after a few seconds, he opened up.

“My flight was late because of the air traffic controllers. We sat on the tarmac in DFW for two hours waiting on them to get their sh…, get it all together. Then I had to wait in baggage claim about twice as long as normal and by the time I got out of the airport, the car rental place had already closed, so I had to take a taxi. I figured I could just walk down to the diner for something to eat after I got checked in, I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I’m starving, only to have the taxi driver tell me the diner is closed for remodeling. Is there any chance anyone delivers out here?”

“No, I’m sorry, but let me see what I can do.”

He gave me a smile that kind of said he wasn’t going to hold his breath, gently squeezed my thumb and thanked me Beylikdüzü escort for listening to his problems, then took his bags to his room.

I felt really bad for him and wanted to make his day better if I could.

My relief manager who came on at 11:00 was an older retired guy named Jimmy. Jimmy was a widower and lived about 10 minutes from the hotel. He would usually stop at the drive in by his house and pick up a hamburger and milk shake on his way in. When Mr. Johnson left, I quickly gave Jimmy a call and was surprised when he answered the phone.

“Oh Jimmy, this is Kim at the hotel, you haven’t left yet. I’m glad I caught you.”

“Hey Kim, what’s up?”

“Would you do me a big favor on your way in?”

“Sure what is it?”

“Would you mind picking me up a hamburger and milkshake?”

“Not a problem. I’m just leaving. See you in a bit.”

Jimmy got there a little before 11:00 and we did a quick change over. Jimmy just assumed I was hungry and the food was for me and I didn’t tell him any different. I figured if I told him it was for a customer, he would ask what room and would deliver it himself. I paid him for the burger and shake and left, but instead of going to my car, I used my master key to go in the side door, then up to the second floor to Mr. Johnson’s room.

I knocked on the door, but got no answer. I was afraid maybe Mr. Johnson had left to try and find something to eat, but I knocked a second time and heard, “Who is it?”

“Room service”, I said with a smile.

“Just a minute”. I think he may have been putting his pants on.

When he opened the door and saw me, he jerked his head back in surprise, “What’s this?”

As I suspected, his pants were on but the belt was undone. He also wore a white undershirt and I could see a small tuft of silvery chest hair. There was a hint of shave cream just under his right earlobe.

“I felt really bad for the kind of day you’ve had so I brought you a hamburger and milk shake. Not exactly a gourmet meal, but at least you won’t go to bed hungry” I said.

It really felt good seeing the huge smile come over Mr. Johnson’s face and you could see in those steely blue eyes that he truly was appreciative of my gesture.

‘Oh my Lord, how very considerate of you!” As he took the sack and drink from me and sat them on the dresser. I stood awkwardly in the open doorway.

As he turned back to face me, he immediately pulled his wallet from his back pocket, “Here, how much do I owe you?”

“Oh no, this is my treat. I just wanted to make your bad day end on a good note.”

Then he stepped forward and leaned down to hug me and said, “Well, you’ve certainly done that!”

His body was solid and I could smell the soap he had washed his face with.

After a brief, cordial hug, he backed away and asked, “If you won’t let me pay you for the food, then the very least I can do is repay your thoughtful gesture. I will have a rental car tomorrow. Would you at least let me take you to dinner?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Besides, I have class tomorrow night until 9:00.”

“You must let me do something to repay your act of kindness. I know you probably don’t want to go to dinner with an old guy like me, but you have to let me repay you somehow.”

“Oh, you’re not that old! And besides, you’re very handsome and I would go anywhere with you.” I immediately wished I hadn’t said that and thought perhaps it was too forward of me, but I also wanted him to know my dinner refusal had nothing to do with our age difference.

“I’ll tell you what, Mr. Johnson, …”

“Please, call me Paul”.

“I’ll tell you what, Paul, maybe the next time you are in town we can go for dinner.”

“I don’t want to wait that long”, he exclaimed. “How about a drink or two after you get out of class tomorrow night? That’s the least I can do and it would make an old guy feel good to be seen with a beautiful young girl like you.”

How could I say no to that? I accepted his offer, knowing I was taking a big chance of being humiliated if they asked me for an ID.

“I can be here around 10:00 tomorrow night and the lounge across the parking lot stays open until midnight.”

“Hey, I’ll take whatever I can get,” Paul said with a smile.

“Okay then, it’s a date.” I said. As soon as he heard the word, ‘date’ I noticed a twinkle in his eye.

“You have truly put a happy ending onto an otherwise frustrating day.”

I smiled.

Paul reached for my right hand. I felt that little spark again when he took my hand in his, then he did the most debonair thing as he brought my hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of my hand as his eyes pierced into mine. I felt my breath catch.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then. Enjoy your gourmet meal!” I said with a smile.


The next day in class, I had a hard time concentrating. I kept thinking about later that night. I found myself thinking about Paul in ways that were strange to me. Certainly I found Beylikdüzü escort boys my age to be obnoxious, for the most part, and often found myself fantasizing about older men, but Paul was in his fifties; my step dads age. My fantasies had not taken me to that place before and I found myself, not so much fantasizing about being with Paul, but just thinking about him – how he carried himself with such confidence, how he was always so gentlemanly, and how it felt when he gently pulled my thumb to the palm of his hand. It was just … different, and strangely erotic. I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that I found this man extremely attractive, despite the tremendous age difference.

I hurried out of my last class and practically ran home, took a quick shower and began getting ready. I didn’t even pay any attention to Jerry, my voyeur neighbor, even though I knew he was watching me. I put on my sexiest pair of underwear, a skimpy black panty with white polka dots that barely covered my mound with an elastic string waistband. I don’t know why I put them on, it just felt right and I really wanted to feel sexy in the company of this much older gentleman. There was a matching bra, but I went braless under the halter neck dress I put on since it was an open back. It was chocolate brown on top with a flared breast area, gathered in the center to accentuate my small cleavage, with a 4-inch band of loose fabric over the head strap piece that held the whole thing in place. It had a very sheer breast lining since it was meant to be worn without a bra. The lining kept my nipples from being visible but would not contain them if I got stimulated. The bottom half was jet black and form fitted around my hips and came to mid-thigh. I topped it off with black 4-inch black heels that accentuated my calves. I put my hair up and applied just a bit more evening makeup than I normally would.

I looked hot.

It was a little later than I had hoped. It was almost 10:00 when I left the house and by the time I got to the hotel, almost 10:30. I parked towards the side entrance and used my master key to enter and went up to Paul’s room.

I stood outside his room door, gathering my confidence. “Why am I so nervous? Why are my palms sweating? God, I hope he likes how I look. Is my lipstick okay?” After much fidgeting, I lightly knocked.

When Paul opened the door, I took great delight in his immediate reaction.

“My God, you look stunning!” It was the first time I had ever had someone use that word to describe me and it felt really good hearing it.

Paul stood there with his mouth agape as he drank in the young woman standing at his doorway.

“You’re just absolutely amazing.”

“Isn’t it something what a dress and a bit of makeup can do!” I kidded.

“Well,” he stammered, “You always look fantastic but in this dress and the way you are made up just takes my breath away.”

I was on cloud 9 with the way he was talking about me.

“I hope there is a big crowd at the bar.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“Because I really want people to see the beautiful woman I am with!”

“Oh, Paul, that’s so sweet of you to say.”

At this point, it crossed my mind that I really didn’t care if we went to the bar or not. I would have been perfectly happy if we had stayed in his room and talked, or even if he had made a move on me, but he was the perfect gentleman.

“Let me just grab my jacket. Shouldn’t you be wearing a jacket? It’s kind of cool out.”

“I thought about it, but since the bar is just across the parking lot, I thought it would be fine without one.”

Paul slipped on his sport coat and looked absolutely dashing. His grey slacks and blue stripped shirt highlighted his eyes and the grey sports coat with grey leather elbow patches made him look so very handsome. I also noticed the distinct aroma of his cologne.

“What is that wonderful smell?” I asked.

“My best bay rum cologne” Paul answered. I became an instant fan of bay rum.

We walked the short distance to the elevator. The only time Paul had actually touched me since I had arrived was when the elevator doors opened and he placed his hand gently on my back to guide me into the elevator. I felt the tingle of electricity through my body when his hand touched the flesh of my bare back.

When the elevator doors opened, I was nervous that he would lead me through the lobby and I really didn’t want anyone to know I was going out with a hotel guest. It was no one’s business, but you know how people talk. When the doors opened, I took the lead and turned left to go out the side entrance.

We walked across the parking lot and as we neared the entrance to the bar, my anxiety level rose sharply. It would be so embarrassing if they asked me for an ID.

Luckily, that didn’t happen.

The bar was in the shape of an ‘L’ with the bar in the corner by the door, tables and a small dance floor down the side and a small room with a couple of tables and a pool table on the far Escort Beylikdüzü side of the bar. There were only the bartender and three guys at the far side of the bar who were holding pool sticks but not playing at the moment. All eyes turned toward me.

The bartender spoke up, “It’s a slow night tonight and I just sent the barmaid home. What can I get you?”

I told Paul I would take a screwdriver and he ordered a scotch. “Haig & Haig if you have it.”

“Only the best for you, sir.” Replied the bartender.

We took a table towards the dance floor, far enough away from the bar so as not to be disturbed. Paul pulled out my chair and as I sat, I noticed the three patrons still staring our way. They were all in their twenties and shabbily dressed in jeans and t-shirts. One of them had on a tank top trying to show off his muscled arms. They were loud when they spoke to one another and had no issue with foul language. No doubt, they had been in the bar for some time and had consumed tremendous volumes of beer.

The bartender brought our drinks to the table and we began the exercise of getting to know one another on a more personal level. We talked about college, Paul’s job, hobbies, the air traffic controllers getting fired, just casual conversation between a man and a woman. It was very pleasant and I felt very much at ease with Paul. Numerous times, he commented again about how wonderful I looked.

The rambunctious guys decided it was time to play some more pool, but not before one of them brazenly shouted across the room, “Hey mister, wanna match for the winner?”

“No thanks”, Paul replied without looking away from me.

The guys moved into the area where the pool table was and it got a bit quieter for a while. Our conversation continued quite pleasantly until one of them, I guess the loser of the first match, came toward our table. He was the youngest of the bunch. Not bad looking but was obviously drunk and full of himself.

With the jukebox playing in the background, he asked Paul, “Hey, you mind if I dance with your daughter?”

Paul cut a steely glance his way, but before he could answer I reached across the table and placed my hand over his and said, “He’s not my dad, he’s my date, and all of my dances are reserved for him.”

I left my hand on Paul’s as we watched the drunkard walk away.

“I could have handled that,” Paul said, “but you actually handled it quite nicely.”

“Well thank you, Paul. I’m sitting here with the most handsome man in the place, why would I want to dance with the likes of him?” as I flipped my head toward the retreating jerk.

Paul hesitated for a moment and I could tell he wanted to say something and it was making him uneasy. I had an inclination about what was on his mind and interjected, “So tell me about your wife and family.”

For the first time, I saw a momentary deer in the headlights look before Paul composed himself.

“How did you know that’s what was on my mind?”

“A woman can sense these things.” I replied. “Even a young woman like myself.”

“I think you are older than your years. You’re obviously very astute about how life is.” Paul rolled his hand over so my hand was no longer on top of it, but we were actually holding hands.

“So you know I am married and you are thinking me a leach for being here with you.”

“Not at all, Paul. I think you are a very nice gentleman that I would like to get to know better. Tell me about your marriage.”

This brought a grin and a slight chuckle from him. “My marriage. Well, let’s see. I guess it’s sort of a typical story. We raised two kids and about the time the youngest left home, my wife went through the change and her hormones are about as far out of kilter as they can be. Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife. She has been a good wife and mother, but I was really looking forward to not having kids in the house and us being able to make up for years of being too busy with work and raising kids, …”

I interrupted, “and now you are a passionate man in a passionless marriage.”

“You really are wise beyond your years, Kim. In the four years since our youngest left home, I can count on one hand the number of times my wife and I have made love. I still love her. I always will, but I’m just not ready for that part of my life to be over.”

There was a silence between us and I tightened the grip as we held hands and smiled into those deep eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he continued, “I’m not out chasing women, but when I get an opportunity to spend time with a stunning (there was that word again) young woman over drinks, I’m going to seize that opportunity. You can be sure of that. I need another scotch, would you like another?”

Paul went to the bar to get us two more drinks. As he did so, the group of three had decided to call it a night. As they walked past Paul standing at the bar, I heard one of them say to Paul, “Goddamn, you’re a lucky old fucker.”

Paul ignored their comments.

It occurred to me as I watched the young men leave – they were all attractive guys, even though obnoxious, and on another night, under different circumstances, I would have had a good time flirting with them, but tonight, my full attention was on the distinguished gentleman who brought me.

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