No one inspired great stories in me though, apart from the gentle wondering. I figured my mind was just too tired from work to grasp on to anyone like...normal.My sleepy mind turned instead to the man I sat by on the plane last week. I’d been weaving a story about him that twisted and turned in my brain from the moment he sat by me. His careful, upper crust accent, his slightly wrinkled business attire, his frequent calls before we even took off, and his preppy looks made it all too easy to. He had made it a little longer and a little more angular than Keira Knightley’s pixie haircut to go with the shape of my face. I loved it. My head felt a whole pound lighter and so much cooler.The heat between my legs had also cooled a little, but it was far from gone. Everything felt slick, fidgety and swollen down there. I was dreading the prospect of having to get my ass out of the seat. I was sure that I had left a puddle and that there would be a wet slurping sound when I got up from the. More

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