I was waiting at gate 41 in the international wing of the Barcelona Airport (BCN) to board my flight back to London Heathrow. We were asked to get in line to board the plane, then were left to wait for the last thirty minutes.

I was returning from a quick week of architectural work, some pleasure, but mostly deadlines and deliverables. I was dressed to the nines in a suit, having freshly run out of clothes - I was flying business, and I figured I could look the part.

The announcement first came out in Spanish, leaving a sour look on everyone's face around me.

The blond lady in front of me leaned into the man in front of her, asking;

"Pardon, can you translate?" in a posh accent. She was the embodiment of class, a petite blonde minx, wearing a suit jacket and long skirt that felt both powerful and elegant. He didn't answer her and simply shrugged his shoulders.

She looked around to see if she could ask anyone else when an announcement blasted in English: "Two-hour delay."

"FUCK." I heard the blonde lady say, followed by a "I need a drink," then she walked off towards the stores.

The groans and whines permeated as everyone slowly walked away from the gate. I - thankfully - was headed right back to my lounge. A perk that I had from my credit card.

Once there I saw the same blond lady shouting at the counter operator.

"I am a member, and you better let me in or I will call your supervisor! C-h-a-r-l-o-t-t-e B-e-t-t-i-n-g-e-r, check your systems."

She did not seem like the type to ever be denied.

After a few moments, the receptionist shook her head, saying no, and asked the blonde lady to step aside while waving me towards her. She walked in a huff.

I handed my information and remembered that I had a free +1 for family.

"Charlotte," I said - and the blonde lady turned in shock.

"It's me, Daniel, from Covent Gardens."

We had clearly never met. She was staring at me, unable to place what was going on.

I swiftly turned to the receptionist. "She is my mother's cousin, so I'll just take her as my plus one."

A smile crept up on this woman face as she strutted past the receptionist giving her a look that said fuck you, and following me into the lounge.

At 10:30 pm, it was empty.

"Smooth" she said as we both walked over to the self-serve bar.

"That receptionist didn't have vision. You would have called whomever from wherever and gotten her in trouble. I just saved her and you a headache."

She agreed and poured herself a pre-made Bloody Mary as I grabbed a vodka tonic.

She sat with me and we got to talking. She was a Chief Legal Officer to a large company, they did a lot of trade for luxury goods, and she had a cat named Arnold.

I kept her entertained, and she kept me company. There was tension in the air, and our banter was flirtatious.

We were intimately laughing at something Picasso related when she accidentally spilled some of her Bloody Mary on my white shirt. In the commotion, I got up, and she went purple with embarrassment.

It was all fun and games, really - but I couldn't board the plane with that evident a stain.

I noticed the private meeting rooms they had in the corner of the lounge and told her I would go in there to change my shirt. They were soundproof and had blurred-out windows, easy to change. She said she had a stain remover and that she wouldn't accept no as an answer.

We both went to the room and I unbuttoned my shirt handing it over, revealing my toned body. She stared for a moment, then took a seat in the chair, took a spray out of her suitcase, and started applying it to my stained shirt. I was rummaging through my suitcase when I looked up, and she was scrubbing the shirt together getting the stain remover in there, while doing so her luscious tits were jiggling.

It was hot.

I kept rummaging through my suitcase, hoping to find a clean shirt, and while doing so, accidentally had a pack of condoms sprawl out in the mix.

I was oblivious, of course, but she had caught it.

I finally found a white shirt and got up.

Looking at her, she had a little grin on her face.

Indicating the condoms, "Do people still use those?" she asked.

Blushing, "They do, especially if they like cumming inside."

She laughed.

"So you like cumming inside." She asked, throwing my now stain-less shirt on top of my suitcase.

"I love it," I said

She then spread her legs a little. "Ever fuck a 58 year old." She asked.

"Not yet," I countered.

"Won't need any of those if you do." She said.

"Do 58 year olds like being filled up with cum?" I asked.

"This one does," she said.

The situation had escalated quickly, no doubt due to the three drinks we had each had.

Then she slowly leaned back, pulling her skirt up to show her garter belt and panties.

My cock was at full mast. She indicated for me to come over and, in a sultry voice, said,

"Looks like you might get a stain here too, let me make sure it doesn't ruin these lovely pants."

She then unzipped my pants and slowly pulled them down, letting my cock spring free.

She grasped my member, held eye contact with me, and slowly gave the head a kiss, her emerald green eyes sparkling with lust.

Then she engulfed the head of my swollen cock, and twirled her tongue around the tip.

Just when I thought it was going to get better, she popped it out, and after reading my expression, added,

"Hunny I don't suck cock, I was getting you nice and wet to slide right in."

She then leaned back and pulled down her panties revealing a puffy pair of pussy lips and a dense bush, trimmed into a V. She was the true embodiment of a MILF.

She got up and sat on the table, getting about waist high and guided my raging cock towards her pussy lips.

We both watched as I slowly aligned my bulging member and collectively had an out-of-body experience as I slowly entered into her.

"Oh, yeeeeeeees." She whimpered.

My veiny cock was being gripped by her tight love tunnel.

She was tight and needed to be loosened up a bit.

I slowly pulled out, as one of her hands held the back of my head and the other held my butt, she didn't wait for long before pushing me back in until the whisps of her pussy hair touched my groin.

I slowly, tenderly rocked in and out of her filling her Milf pussy up with my young cock.

We didn't kiss, and she didn't take her top off.

It was as if her top half was ready for a $ 1000-a-plate banquet, and her bottom half was in a Berlin sex club. I kept my slow pace up, truly making love to a woman I had just met in the airport lobby.

She glanced at her gold Rolex and then back at me,

"Honey, you might need to pick up the pace if we want to catch the flight." She said.

I didn't need to be told twice, so I started pistoning in and out of her, reminding her what being fucked by someone half her age had to offer.

She was trying to hold in her panting, but you could hear the clear slap of my balls on her cream-covered gooch. Her cream was dense and was about to be a little more creamy.

I was possessed, even using one thumb to flick her clit, as I was slamming into her.

Coming close to the point of no return, I grabbed onto her ass, pushed myself as deep as possible and unloaded one weeks worth of pent up jizz.

We were both panting as we slowly watched me pull my engorged cock out of her puffy lips with a PLOP. A flood of jizz oozed out of her snatch, dripping onto the table.

She looked into my eyes and gave me a little peck on the lips.

"That is exactly what we needed," she said.

She then stood up, took my white dress shirt and rubbed her sex with it, cleaning the cream and jizz off her person.

I stared at her.

"Well, it was already soiled, just give it to dry cleaning and they can handle it," she said.

Then she put her panties back on, I got dressed, and we both walked back to our gate just as they started boarding.

We walked right in, laughing as if we hadn't just fucked like crazy, and she went towards first as I headed into business.

It was not until a few days later that I found a business card in my suit jacket. I had her number and email.

Something I might continue if this story gets some good results.