An Afternoon of Desire

by Scarlett M Butler

Becca sighed, exhausted, and leaned over to shove her lover off of the tiny cot, so that she could steal his half of the blankets.

The man was so utterly done did, his snores didn’t even falter as his body fell onto the cold, hard floor with a thump.

Becca snuggled under the blankets, trying to get warm. But it was so hard to be warm, when you were out in the middle of nowhere, in Siberia, no less, and you didn’t have any heat, or a fireplace in which to make a fire.

She shivered again, and decided that she would have to get out of there as soon as possible. No matter how good in bed he was, no lover was worth catching a cold over!

Slowly, Becca hefted her 4’11, 346 lb frame up from the tiny bed, wrapping the blanket around herself for warmth. She carefully searched through all of her erstwhile lover’s clothes and drawers, finding several things that could be sold for money, as well as some money itself.

Looking down at the small quantity of money that she held in her hand, Becca sighed.

It looked like she was going to have to prostitute herself again tonight, in order to pay for a plane ticket out of here!

Steeling herself and thrusting her shoulders back so that she stood at the full effect of her height, Becca marched out the door of the tiny cabin and into snow that was nearly as deep as she was tall, clad only in a paper-thin blanket and her woolen resolve.

The next morning, as Becca looked out the window of the plane down on the earth below, she pondered over the events of the last night.

Who was that man? She wondered. The wonderful man who had looked and smelled and tasted like a very tasty hot dog, covered in mustard. Why, she had just gobbled him up, and he quite enjoyed it!

But instead of her paying for the hot dog …

The hot dog had paid her.

And quite handsomely, at that!

In fact, he had paid her enough that she had no need to prostitute herself further in order to purchase a plane ticket.

Not that she had let that stop her from enjoying her night on the town—and making quite a nice little profit, to boot!

Becca shook her head, erasing her thoughts. That man was no longer a part of her life. He had been a pleasant diversion, and a source of cold, hard, cash—and a hot, hard cock—but that was all that he had ever meant to her—all that he ever would mean to her.

But if that were true …

Then why was she finding it so hard to forget him?

Becca slumped down in her seats, again feeling fury for the goddamn airlines for charging her the price of two full seats, when they knew very well that she only took up one and a half seats, no more, no less!

Becca grumbled as she gave her lunch order to the stewardess; she ordered 3 roast beef sandwiches, 4 dill pickles, a package of kraft mac and cheese, 2 orders of bagel bites, several different flavors of pop tarts, spaghetti with m&m’s (meatballs on the side), a bottle of merlot, and a package of skittles to wash it all down.

Then, as the flight attendant walked down the aisle to take the order of the next person, Becca felt a sudden chill, and shivered as she pulled her trenchcoat around her almost nude body. Last night, after her encounter with the hot dog man, she had wandered around in her blanket until she had managed to steal some sewing supplies and a sewing machine from some homeless lady. She had cut off a tiny part of the blanket and sewed it into a thong (which now had a brown stain on it because she had forgotten to take it off this morning), and the from the rest of the blanket she had crafted a trench coat, so that men wouldn’t stare lustfully at her bodacious body, unless she wanted them too, of course.

With a sigh, Becca settled back into her seat, prepared to take a nap while she waited for her lunch. But all of a sudden the hairs on the back of her neck began to do somersaults and back flips, and she felt someone settling into the empty seat beside her. Opening her eyes just a crack, Becca peered over, and nearly gasped as she saw who it was.

It was the hot dog man.

He was following her!

“What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, scared that he had come to arrest her for theft, clutching the sewing machine closer to her body from its secret pocket in her trench coat.

The hot dog man just raised an eyebrow, and grinned. “I could ask you the same thing, Becca!”

“But I asked first!” Becca exclaimed, tears in her eyes.

The man sighed. “To tell you the truth, I’m on this plane because I’m going to Canada.”

“Really?” Becca asked hopefully, “So am I! But why are you in this seat? I was told that no one had this seat!”

“Well, I was originally supposed to sit back there,” he told her, signaling with his thumb and a look of disgust, “with my girlfriend. But then I saw her doing some guy, so I dumped her and came to sit up here. Not that she cares. She’s too busy fucking that guy.”

Becca turned her neck and looked back to see her friend Sanina, wearing only a t-shirt and panties, on the lap of some guy a few rows back. Becca waved, and Sanina waved back, not really paying attention as she moved up and down on the guy’s lap. It was then that Becca noticed that her friend’s thong was pushed discreetly to the side, and the man’s pants were unzipped, and certain parts of their bodies were connected, and Sanina was beginning to move faster and faster on the guy’s body, until suddenly she stopped and they both shuddered and she collapsed happily into his arms as they discreetly fixed up their mussed clothes.

Becca turned back to the hot dog man. “I don’t see anyone back there but my friend Sanina.”

The hot dog man’s eyes narrowed. “It’s Sanina that I’m talking about. She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh … so you’re Toby, Sanina’s boyfriend, the rich one that she wanted to have your baby so that you’d marry her, but then you saw that video of her having a threesome on the internet, and put two and two together, and broke off the engagement, especially after it turned out that the baby wasn’t even yours?”

“…yeah,” the hot dog man mumbled, and then slouched in his seat, folding his arms discontentedly over his chest.

He really is quite handsome, Becca thought as she let her gaze roam over him hungrily. Damn, why didn’t I order a hot dog for lunch? I really feel like putting a long, thick, juicy piece of meat in between my lips right about now …

Becca grinned. Why wait for her lunch to arrive?

She unfastened her seatbelt, and plopped onto the ground, letting her trenchcoat drift open so that he could see her goodies.

Toby eyed her warily. “What are you doing?”

Becca looked up at him and batted her eyelashes. “I just want a little something to nibble on before lunch,” she told him innocently, before winking at his crotch.

She leaned over and grabbed his zipper in between her teeth, and yanked, hard.

“Ouch!” Toby exclaimed, jumping up even as his pants fell around his ankles. Everyone on the plane, including Sanina and her new lover, looked at him, and started laughing when they saw that he was wearing boxers with little teddy bears on them. Toby blushed and quickly sat back down, not even bothering to pull his pants back up because Becca had stolen them and hidden them in the same pocket as the sewing machine in her trench coat.

“There, you’ve embarrassed me in front of the entire plane! Are you happy now, Becca?”

“No,” Becca purred, attempting to sound seductive, but failing—unbeknownst to her own ears. “I won’t be happy until I’ve brought a smile to your face!”

And with that, she buried her own face in his crotch, licking his soft penis through the boxers, and finally, after about two hours, coaxing a response out of him, after he ordered a bottle of Viagra from the male flight attendant and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

Soon, her lunch came, and in between nibbles of his meaty meat, Becca would take a swig from her bottle of merlot, or pause for a moment to munch some mac and cheese. And, after each bite, not even bothering to swallow, she returned to her hot dog man, who sat in front of her, eyes closed, hoping that the flight would end soon. Soon, his meaty hot dog was wrapped in the residue of all the various foods that Becca had for lunch, making him, in her eyes, even tastier.

Finally, she could stand it no longer, and ordered a bun from the passing flight attendant, and settled her hot dog in it, as she also poured on some sour kraut, and then proceeded to take a big bite, with relish.

“OUCH!” screamed the hot dog man, wailing in pain, as he looked down to see quite a large portion of his manhood simply—gone. Into her mouth, where she chewed it—and swallowed, of course.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” he exclaimed, tears of pain welling in his eyes.

She looked up at him, confused. “I’m just eating this here hot dog,” she told him. “It’s really quite delicious!”

He stared down at her, wide eyed. “THAT’S NOT A HOT DOG! THAT WAS MY PENIS, YOU IDIOT!”

Becca blinked once, twice. She looked at him, then down to his penis/hot dog, then back again.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice, blushing. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re SORRY? SORRY DOESN’T CUT IT! YOU JUST ATE MY PENIS! NOW HOW AM I GOING TO HAVE SEX?”

“You could … get a prosthetic penis?” she asked, flinching at his anger.

“IT WOULDN’T FEEL THE SAME! DAMMIT!” and then he started to cry like a baby while Becca watched him with sad eyes.

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?” she asked helplessly, her voice filled with pity and remorse.

“Yeah! You can get out of my life, right now, and STAY OUT you whore!”

Tears welled up in Becca’s eyes as she stood, her short, squat frame towering over him. “I’m not a whore, dammit!” she cried, her mouth flinging spittle and little bits of food and penis at him, “I’m a prostitute!” And then she ran to the bathroom in the back of the plane, and locked herself in there for the rest of the flight, until the plane finally descended, in Montreal.

Never before in Becca’s whole life had an afternoon of desire gone so terribly wrong.

After the plane was empty, Becca finished her business and exited the bathroom, too distraught to remember to flush or wash her hands.

And all she left behind was a sewing machine sitting neatly under the sink, a few brown lumps in the toilet, and a blanket-turned-thong, floating in the brown water, soon to be flushed away forever, until it reappeared in some new life, only to be lost, once more, in an alley.