Henry Cavill Fantasies

The Perfect Mistress

It was late when my flight finally landed and I made my way over to the gate for my connecting flight. Upon arriving to the said gate, I learned that my connecting flight was delayed for an hour giving me time to kill before I would have to board another cramped plane filled with tired people just trying to return home after the holidays.

I walked around the airport with my carry-on looking for something to pass the time or at least to eat. Nothing. Finally, realizing it was hopeless to wander any further, I ventured over to the seats near my gate and sat down in one closest to the desk.

It was here where I searched through my purse for my newest favorite book The Perfect Mistress so that I could at least get a few chapters in until I had to board the flight and couldn't thoroughly enjoy it on the plane. It seemed even the littlest amount of light set people off when they were tired and crammed onto a plane.

I was settling into my seat, my purse next to my carry-on right by my feet and my book carefully on my lap when I noticed the seat next to me was occupied. I didn't want to come across rude and stare so I kept my eyes fixed on my book as I sat back in my seat and picked it up to open.

"The Perfect Mistress?" The stranger beside me spoke. A man, a British man clearly.

Unsure really of what to do or say, I closed my book, studied the cover, nodded my head and then said, "Yes, although the title is very misleading."

"So it is not about the perfect Mistress?" He asked. And I sat there thinking over what he said and why his accent sounded oddly familiar. I mean I could just look up at him, but my anxiety was already acting up and I know making eye contact would only lead to me breaking down.

Taking a deep breath, I placed the book on my lap and shook my head. I know it was rude of me, he was just trying to be polite and make conversation. He wasn't aware of how uncomfortable I was or the thoughts coursing through my mind.

Did I smell funny? Did I look okay? What if he's making fun of me for the book I'm reading? What if he thinks I'm easy and will try to do something?

"Exactly what makes one the perfect mistress?"

Oh no, he thinks I'm probably easy because of this book. I tightened my grip on my book, tried to steady my racing heart and fill my head with positive thoughts. Maybe if you tell him about the book he'll finally leave you alone. Maybe.

"Uhm," my mouth suddenly felt so dry and I was now regretting my decision not to purchase a beverage. "Well, in this book the perfect mistress is a woman who loves her lover and only him and is devoted to him until the arrangement is over. But the thing is it's not necessarily about the mistress, but her great granddaughter who uncovers her memoirs from when she was a mistress and so she wishes to share them with the world only to stumble across a handsome earl who does not like scandal nor will he let it touch his families name and the memoirs mention his father. So he tries all that he can to stop the woman from publishing them only to end up falling in love with her.
"It's quite a nice book really. My favorite thus far. I have come to realize I am very much like this character in every way."

And now, as I closed my mouth and stared at the ground, my heart beating like a drum in my chest as many negative thoughts filled my head and tears stung my eyes, I realized I may have said too much. Maybe that was a good thing. I wanted him to leave me alone after all.

But he didn't. Instead, his hand appeared into my line of vision, a large hand at that, and picked up the book from my lap. I didn't protest, too scared to do so really, but I did look up at him. And what I saw? Well, let's just say my heart was no longer racing due to fear.

Discrete. Yes, he was most certainly trying to be discrete by wearing a ball cap that covered his dark curls and his distinct face if he lowered it just right. A black ball cap, one with a sports logo on it. And then reality kinda hit me as I stared at his hat.