Ngaire lay naked on her own bed. She had her thighs wide, and her own fingers, no toys, in her cunt. Her thigh muscles and her stomach muscles were taut. She was getting close. Her mouth opened, though she didn’t want to risk waking Melinda, her daughter, asleep – she hoped – in the next room. But she moaned, and then, when a fresh wave of pleasure took her, hard like a punch in her stomach, she grunted.  

Freddie had been lying beside her, but now he sat in her chair at the end of the bed, watching her.

An hour ago they’d lain together, having fucked more less continuously through their evening, and then, some time in the early morning, they’d lain, happy and relaxed with the other. Ngaire had stroked his cock lightly. It was down to semi-hard, and wet with her own fluids. She ran a finger nail along the underside of his cock and he’d grunted. His cock had jumped, and it stayed lifted, free of his body. Not erect yet, but on the way back.

She’d said, lazily, “I like to wank boys. I did it a lot when I was a kid.”

“To avoid getting pregnant?” 

“Partly. That was the reason at first, I guess. Then I got to like it.”

“A man with his cock in your hand is a bit like a bull with a ring in his nose. So long as you hold that, you’re in control.” 

“No! Well, all right, yeah, that’s true. And as an teenage girl, it’s always nice to feel safe around boys. But I got to enjoy it in its own right. I like the way men respond, how their cock takes them over, when you give them pleasure. I guess I still do like that. Would you like me to wank you off?”

“Ahh. Look, while I can still get it up, I mean this morning, I’d much rather fuck you. I love your cunt. And I’ve got designs on your ass.” 

“Daphne said you like to leave marks on her arse.” 

“Yeah, I do. But I meant I plan to fuck your ass. My cock. In your rectum. Me in control, you out of control. Out of your control, anyway.” 

“Yeah, I think you might be allowed to manage that. Hmm. No wanking you off. Would you like to watch me wank?”

“Actually, yes. I’m still going to fuck you up the ass, if that gives you something to think about while you’re wanking. But yes, I’d like to see you get yourself off.”

“It’s funny, there aren’t many women who want to watch men wanking. But all men want to watch women wank.” 

“You’re more beautiful. I think, anyway. And there’s not much mystery about men wanking. The cock’s sort of out there. But cunts are more inwards -“

“So profound, this man.” 

Freddie put his hand on her left inner thigh, and smacked her, just missing her cunt.

Ngaire knew that wasn’t the last time he was going to smack her, though he was hiding the side of himself that Daphne had told him about. “Ok. Freud: Off! But I think men generally all wank much the same. But women do different things. I’ve had girlfriends who wank lying on their front, others who lie on their backs. Which are you?” 

“I’m an on-my-back girl. And I’m going to wank while you watch. Do you want to see me actually working to get myself off, or do you want me to put on a show?”  

And he’d said the right thing. Ngaire had made herself a pile of pillow to lean back against, and began to stroke her inner thighs, not touching her cunt at first. As if she was teasing herself. 

Melinda tugged her mother’s sleeve. “Mummy, the airplane was doing doughnuts, and I won!” 

Ngaire looked at me, needing footnotes for that one. So I explained the game “Whoo!” and how to play it. 

She stood still for a few seconds, digesting that. Then she said, “You wanna come round to my place, for tea?” 

“You can’t get a cup in the airport?” 

“Yank boy,” she sighed. “It means ‘dinner’. And getting invited to dinner must mean the same things in yank-land as it does here.” 

“Oh. Like you’d like to show me your etchings.” 

“Not sure what etchings are, so I can’t show you those. But you might get to see my arse.” She looked at me with mock-irritation. “Which, I probably have to tell you, means my ass.” 

I’d thought Daphne had been pretty direct, when I first met her. She hadn’t given me much warning before she slipped into my bed. But Ngaire was off the scale. I wondered if all New Zealand women were like this, or if it was just grateful, still slightly drunk single mothers on airplanes. Or maybe it was just Ngaire.

I said, “I’d love that. Seriously. Once Melinda’s safely tucked up. But there are two women waiting for me, once I get through Customs, and I think they’d mind.”

She frowned. “Two women? Lovers? I mean, lovers of you?”

“Yes. It’s going to be the first time all three of us meet, though.”

“What? How’s that work? Have you just been doing netsex?”

“Well, I’ve been… I’ve spent real time with both of them. And I guess they’ve met each other, now they’re both in Wellington. I gave them each the other’s, oh, details. But we haven’t all three of us been together at once. So I’m afraid I have responsibilities.”

“You’re turning down sex with me, just for the sake of a threesome? Man’s crazy.”

I thought a threesome with Shar and Daphne was unlikely, much though I’d be open to it. But I was still going to be busy, whatever Daphne and Shar had worked out between them. I spread my hands. What can you do?

Ngaire grinned suddenly. “Well, my mother always said, if you want something done, ask a busy man. I want me done. Would you like my phone number?”

“Of course. But it’d be great to know someone who lives here. I’m from New York. Daphne’s from Glasgow, and Shar lives in Lima. Would you like to meet them?”

“You want your lovers to meet me? You’re a weird guy. I mean, I’ve just taken Melinda to up-state New York to spend time with her father, and he’s weird. But not in a good way. You seem kind of ok for a weirdo.”

“Thank you.”

“But yeah, I’d be happy to show you and your harem around. Wellington’s a cool city, but it really does help if you know people.”

Ngaire turned to the overhead lockers and and out took a red bag with big white spots, in the shape of a beetle, and gave it to Melinda. Melinda delved inside and took out a blue tiara and put it on. Then she slung the bag over her shoulder. Her secret princess identity was out. She was happy.

Ngaire delved a little further back for her own bag. Her t-shirt rose, revealing a tattoo on her lower belly, that said, “Property of the”. There was probably more, but that was below the hem of her jeans. I wondered if I’d get to read the rest of that tattoo. If Ngaire had anything to do with it, it seemed I would.

There was movement ahead of us. The people standing in the aisles were being allowed off. I picked up my satchel, from under the seat in front of me. Ngaire said, “You’re travelling on a Yank passport?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. You’ll get through Immigration quicker if you say you’re with me. I can get you into the New Zealand queue, as my boyfriend. Ok?”

“Fine. And thank you.” 

So we left together. When we were out of the plane and onto the gantry Melinda turned back to address the plane. She said to it, “Whoo!” Two of the hosties, who must have heard us playing the “Whoo!” game, said, “Whoo!” back. So she was even happier.

When we were walking away she got between me and her mother and took her mother’s hand. Then she took mine. I was surprised how pleased I was.