Airport Flirt
A 60 Minute Airport Romance in Kuala LumpurPublished August 24, 2021
A 60 Minute Airport Romance in Kuala Lumpur
This is a story that will most likely feature in my next memoir. If you would like to read stories from my first memoir then you should buy it here -
MEGA: A Three Year Journey
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I wasn’t walking anywhere in particular. Just making circles and figure-eights of the large terminal.
I had just said goodbye to my Vietnamese “Girlfriend”
I knew we were going to break up. There wouldn’t be another long trip with her. This had been our second. The first was a month-long enjoyable and eventful journey across Vietnam south to north. This trip, we spent a few weeks in Bali and a few across Malaysia. But it would be all over soon.
The way of the world. Just as one romance was dying another would spark into life.
She appeared out of thin-air, eyes down to the ground then back up gazing into my eyes, lips curled slightly, an eyebrow raised.
It was if she had been practicing the move in the mirror all morning.
All of the air was sucked out of the universe.
The thousands of wandering travellers looked in my direction.
Arms up, screaming “GO GET HER!”
Well, probably not.
I stood there, body stunned, mind turning at furious speed.
‘Well, that’s a fantasy, stewardess.’
It wasn’t really
my fantasy. Actually, I can’t remember a single time I ever got off to thinking about that scenario, never came over a porn with that as the story line.
The opportunity was in front of me though, well now behind me and walking away.
Did I have time to walk this road?
I had a long, long flight from Asia to Europe ahead of me.
I decided I couldn’t let it escape.
‘Let’s go!’
I swiveled on my heels and caught up to her.
“Hi.”
She smiled, I could see every single one of her teeth.
“I just finished working, actually.”
What is it about that Malay accent on women? It’s going to take me a long time to describe it and do it justice. Enough time to take a piss, I’ll go do that now and then come back and try and describe just how wonderful the female Malay accent is.
<
the piss
>
It’s the up and down nature of it. But ups and downs that are so smooth and relaxing. WITH SOME KINDA SPICE THROWN IN TOO.
I’m not someone too keen on marriage. It will take a true gemstone to get me to that point. But. MARRIAGE. That’s the first thing I think when I hear a pretty Malaysian woman speak.
I invited her an instant date and we found ourselves at an airport cafe.
I ordered a tea, something exotic, trying to be cool. I can’t remember what she ordered.
She sipper her drink, running her slender index finger up and down the straw.
My cock hit the underside of the table. I was now stuck to this spot.
Her eyes were perfectly round symmetrical balls. Too perfectly shaped for the human animal, the kind you’d expect to see on a newborn puma.
I was in love. And I was either in the middle of being scammed in an elaborate hustle. Or. She was in love too.
It was a long effortless date in that cafe.
I pulled my pack of cigarettes out and placed them on the table.
“You smoke!?” she asked me.
“Yes, I do.” I said.
“Ahh, okay, you go be a bad boy.”
“Not coming?” I said.
“I’ll be lonely.” I added.
She stood up and gave me an adrenaline-explosion of a smile.
I smoked.
We clung to each other.
We kissed.
We ate each others faces, wrapped in smoke.
Afterwards, I had a thought I don’t think I’d ever had before, ‘How much of her saliva did I just swallow?’
Off she went.
I had a plane to catch.
She had a job to do.
I smoked another cigarette and wondered.
What a special 60 minutes. I knew it would be an hour I’d never forget.
‘How many of those hours do we get in life?’ I thought.
A perfect unforgettable hour.
I went and ate some KFC. Sat in a food court, surrounded by chattering business. I had a long flight across the world ahead of me, chicken in my belly and her DNA inside my lips.