I've never quite understood the romanticised appeal of air travel, especially airports. Maybe I'm just the cranky woman whose ears STILL haven't popped after her flight home this evening (oww), but I just don't get it.
I mean, yes, international airports always have an air of the unusual about them. They can be the portal to home, an escape to the exotic, or maybe just that awesome place where you buy sanctified sin in the form of cheap alcohol and Toblerone.
And there's no question about it—airlines sell destinations but airports sell dreams. Plane ticket bought, your fantasy begins when you first step into that terminal. If you could go anywhere, where would you go? It's going to be an easy flight. That person sitting across the aisle will be attractive and unmarried. The baby next to you won't cry. The mile high club really IS that good.
Then of course there's the allure of anonymity. A gentleman at the airport bar might buy you a drink (with umbrellas), take you back to his (conveniently across the terminal) hotel, spread you over the seats of the deserted (yet oh so plush) business class lounge. As with the international destinations, the pre-take-off and post-landing possibilities are endless.
For me, however, it's all about the hassle, the jetlag and the overpriced bottles of water. Yet while I just can't ever really get into the idea of airports as sexy myself, plenty of women obviously do. I've been totally agog to notice that in just about every airport bookstore that I've been to in the UK, there is always a very (ahem) well-endowed erotica section. Naughty schoolgirls with lots of spanking, BDSM clubs, girl-next-door menages, you name it. At first I put it down to an adorably kinky local WH Smith's buyer, but there seems to be quite a lot of this erotica stocking going on in airports around the country.
I AM INTRIGUED! Who buys these? Are women reading them on the flights while ignoring the screaming baby next to them? Are they shoving them into their handbags prior to liaisons in the business class lounge? Are they entertaining themselves in their anonymous hotel rooms before the 9am meeting? Are they spanking the secretly submissive Border Guards with them in the isolation rooms off Passport Control? Or is it just that the airports are taking it upon themselves to extend their reach into our fantasies after we've left the airport? If that's the case, I'm all for it – a good sexy read will certainly distract from the (oww) pain in my ears ;)
Let me know if you've seen erotica in any airports *you've* travelled through—and would you read erotica in plane (sorry, couldn't resist) sight?
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