I had been chatting to a chap, lets call him Colin (rhyming slang ‘Colin Firth’ - girth ;-P) for a short while, when the delightful boy suggested ...e meet. Now a lot of the people I talk to either play around with the idea of meeting but it never actually manifests itself or they are far too ‘full on’ airing on the side of dare I say, ’desperate’ far too quickly. Infact as I recall it was along the lines of ”how would you feel if I booked a hotel next weekend?” Good on you I thought, not too. I reached around and touched my ass. Small spots of blood were on my finger from the bite, and I could feel the raised lump. I adjusted my skirt and left the stall, I walked over to the mirror and looked at my face. Luckily it was not too bad, just a lot of mascara smudges. I slowly crept out of the washroom. I did not see the guy whom I blew, I think he may have been on a different flight. On the plane I tried to relax, but my heart pounded in my ears. I nearly jumped when the fasten seat. More

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