[A True Account of an In-Flight Romantic Encounter]

Ever since ABC recounted that steamy story of his onboard encounter one afternoon of mine, and late at night of his, during my few trips, I've always secretly hoped before boarding, wondering if such a story could easily happen to me… But unfortunately, my seatmates were either women, children, or empty seats… This time,

on my trip to Beijing, I was preoccupied and in a low mood. After boarding, I sat alone, texting on my phone, looking utterly listless.

A short while later, a young man sat down next to me, around 30 or 33? He wore a yellow-green striped T-shirt with a popped collar, jeans, short hair, and looked clean and neat… That was all I could glean from the corner of my eye.

He sat down, picked up a stack of newspapers, and I saw him reading a financial report. I, on the other hand, was bored and didn't know what to do. Since I had packed my things in small bags, bringing books would just be a hassle, so I had nothing to read.

So, out of boredom, I turned off my phone and waited for takeoff.

Ten minutes, half an hour, an hour… Air traffic control, no takeoff.

So, I ate first. The flight attendant handed out meal boxes, but he didn't take any. He politely handed them to me instead. I wanted to say thank you, but no words came out, so I just lowered my head and ate, feeling embarrassed.

We finished eating, but takeoff still hadn't started. I glanced at him sideways; he seemed quite energetic. Suddenly, a thought struck me… Haha, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.

I moved closer to him, resting my arm on the armrest, but turning my head towards the window, pretending to doze.

He carefully moved his arm, which was holding a newspaper, within his own space, but occasionally, when turning a page, it would lightly touch me—slightly cool… and then he would quickly pull away.

The plane took off, and I pretended to wake up, using the force of the climb, my arm firmly touching his for three to five seconds, then I pulled away as if suddenly realizing something.

I pretended to doze again, moved closer to his arm again… Good heavens, he didn't move either… Our arms touched, transmitting the coolness of his skin, but the heat of that other half of his body.

I remained still, and he began to remain still too.

He tucked the newspaper away with his left hand, seemingly about to sleep… I glimpsed through the gaps in his drooping hair that he had closed his eyes.

He must have known that this arm-to-arm contact wasn't an accident, right? Ah, two people, guarding an unspeakable secret… interesting.

Due to turbulence, the plane began to shake.

The area of contact between our arms grew larger, the pressure increasing… neither of us wanted to pull away.

I wondered, should we stay like this, or take it a step further?

But he seemed incredibly passive, not daring to make a sudden move, ah… well, well, well then, I'll do it!

I started to pretend to be asleep, my head slowly tilting towards his shoulder… the speed, the hazy expression, I think no outsider would notice… finally, my left cheek pressed against his shoulder… like a dream, I searched for the most comfortable angle, gently rubbing against his shoulder, perhaps, strands of hair would brush against his neck and ear…

He didn't move. I rested my head comfortably on his shoulder

for a while. Because he wasn't sitting upright enough, his shoulders were slightly lower. I slowly got up, adjusted my posture, and sat up straight, still squinting at him through my long, flowing hair. He seemed to realize he wasn't making me comfortable enough, so he straightened up and rested his right hand on his right knee. I then slowly began to lean my head on his shoulder again… Oh, it felt so good, this height. I was a little reluctant to get up. So, I slowly wrapped my left arm around his right arm, my fingers gently sliding along the inside of his arm, moving little by little, or drawing tiny circles, softly and gently, like a little caterpillar… I could hear him swallowing… I didn't care, I was going to lean on him, I was going to bother him! After a long few minutes, I started to slip my fingers inside his sleeve, tracing meaningless patterns along the edge of his chest… He finally stroked my hair with his left hand… Then I heard him ask the flight attendant for a glass of water… He gently touched me, I opened my eyes, and he held a glass of water to my lips. Ah, I smiled shyly, sat up straight, took the water, took a sip, and handed it to him. He drank the rest in one gulp… It was as if a sheet of paper had been soaked by his water, torn with a tiny hole… I began to truly wrap my arms around his right arm, resting my head on his shoulder. It was so sweet, like a couple, ah, I felt it wasn't enough. So, my legs, clad in a skirt, began to move closer to him, little by little. Finally, my fingers touched the outside of his right knee… They remained still, just squeezing… He, somewhat timidly, withdrew his right hand, pulled out the small table, and haphazardly spread the newspapers on it, covering our legs. Then, he grabbed my leg, kneading it fiercely a few times, then gently stroking it, tentatively wandering… I squeezed my legs together, pushing his hands away… and he became obedient. But I wasn't being honest... I started writing on his jeans with my hand, from his knee to his thigh, then to his lower abdomen... I stopped at a bunch of bulges and started massaging them clockwise... He got nervous, really. He seemed to sit up straighter... Suddenly, he took my hand away and placed it on his side, kneading it continuously... I was a little confused, and slightly opened my eyes, only to find that the flight attendant was bringing blankets to the person in the seat in front of him... Ha, he's quite alert, isn't he? He asked, "How many days are you staying in Beijing?" I replied, "Two or three days." He asked, "Is your home in Shenzhen?" I said, "Yes." The conversation was hesitant and timid... just waiting for the flight attendant to turn around... I didn't care and started circling his bulge with my fingers again, gently pressing it with my palm... My leg rubbed against the outside of his leg in small, up-and-down motions... The roughness of his jeans and the white skin rubbed against each other, igniting a fire... He finally couldn't hold back and bravely slipped his hand under my skirt, almost touching my underwear... My deep breaths and almost uncontrollable moans made him reluctantly withdraw his hand... Ah, I held his right arm and looked at the row of people outside the aisle. Everyone was busy, and no one noticed that these two strangers were now playing an intimate game... Life, what you see is rarely the truth. The plane was about to land... The long four hours seemed to pass in an instant. The cabin lights came on, the sun visors were open… the light made the ambiguity impossible to hide, so I adjusted my posture, glanced at the armrest I'd pushed up in the middle, and felt a little embarrassed, only daring to look out the window. To cover myself, I took out my camera again, snapping pictures of Beijing's blue sky and the slightly glaring afternoon sun. The plane stopped, and people started disembarking. I glanced back at him; he was fiddling with his phone. I thought, everyone's first thing is to let family or friends know they've arrived safely… Unexpectedly, he handed me his phone, pointing to where the cursor was flashing… I waved my hand sheepishly, saying, "No…" and then picked up my camera again, snapping pictures randomly out the window…

A few minutes later, I turned around and found he was gone.

As I packed up my camera, I felt a pang of guilt and silently said "I'm sorry" to him... I don't know what I was thinking, but maybe I just wanted to say that this wasn't pointless harassment; I just wanted to make the journey less lonely... If you were happy at that moment, it means my presence and actions weren't wrong... But some things should have a decisive ending; that's what makes them more beautiful.

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[A True Account of an In-Flight Romantic Encounter]

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