Marcel just gives me a placating smile, like I’m a newborn foal trying to walk.
“I’m sure this is all kind of blah to you,” I laugh. “I’m such a newbie at this. You probably have hundreds of these bags.” I feel a little like an idiot.
“I do but watching you is delightful.” I think he means it because his eyes sparkle when he says it. “Would you like to see what private rooms on an airplane look like?” He asks and really how can I refuse?
“Sure.” I’m about to set my bag down, but he stops me.
“Why don’t you bring that along? I have a private shower as well.” Get the fuck out. No he doesn’t.
“Are you serious?” I mouth and am barely able to speak because I’m that flabbergasted.
“Yes.” He mouths back and laughs.
He makes way for me to leave our little cubicle area and I follow him up the stairs at the nose of the plane to the top level where there is a hallway and five doors on each side with a galley at the end.
“I’m in room three,” Marcel tells me and he unlocks the door with a little card he has in his pocket. It clicks open and he slides it over to reveal a large bed with two nightstands and another door on the opposite wall. The space is tight but roomy for an airplane.
“Oh, my God,” I gush. “This is insane.”
He motions for me to walk inside and I do. There's just enough room for us to stand side by side next to each other at the end of the bed.
“Here's the bathroom.” Marcel slides open the door on the opposite wall and reveals a toilet with a sink over the bowl and the mirror above that. “The entire room is the shower.”
“Wow, neat,” I say, unsure what he wants me to do about the shower in his room.
“I was thinking, not that you smell or anything, but you might enjoy a shower after the baby barfing incident. It takes the staff a minute to get these rooms open, they don’t have them available until turn down or I would have offered it to youearlier.” He makes his excuses, but I don’t care, a shower sounds amazing.
“Do you mind?” I ask, knowing I’d never shower in a stranger’s room, but this is an airplane and, well, Marcel and I are seatmates, right?
“I wouldn’t have offered if I did.” I guess that’s true.
“I would love to rinse this baby barf off of me,” I say and he steps aside so that I can enter the bathroom.
It’s seriously a tight fit, but I can make it work.
“I’m going to dress into something more comfortable for sleep. You take all the time you need; we still have about four hours left of our flight.” The flight from San Francisco to Rhode Island takes about six hours so that timing makes sense.
I never want the flight to end; the mere thought of it makes me sad. I decide I’ll take the world’s fastest shower and hopefully get a few more minutes with Marcel before I head back downstairs to my own little bed. The water pressure is great and it heats up quickly so I’m able to shower, wash my hair, brush my teeth, and moisturize all in about five minutes. I’m very impressed with myself. I don’t have anything else to wear so I put on the PJ’s which are so buttery soft and comfortable. I’m in heaven. They fit a little snug, but not obscenely tight. I definitely love my curves but I prefer to wear things a little bigger so that I don’t walk around like sex on a stick.
I exit the shower and say, “All clean,” feeling completely refreshed.
“That was fast.” There’s a sparkle in Marcel’s eyes as he stands wearing only a pair of lounge pants that are definitely not from the kit provided. They are dark blue silk and, fuck, do they show off his body. He’s not wearing a shirt, has perfect abs, a tattoo of a skeleton with wings just above his right breast, and an angel over the other. They are facing each other like they’re about to go to war.
“I love your tattoos,” I blurt out like an idiot.
“And I love your airplane issue ... they look good on you.”
Wait, is he complementing me on my airplane jammies?
“Thanks.” I’m sure I’m blushing and not just because of the compliment but when I look a little farther down I see he’s not wearing underwear and boy is he, well ... um ... well-endowed.
I’ve seen naked men like at parties and on a few camping trips, but I’ve never been with a man sexually. I’m not sure but he seems a lot bigger than most men. Sensing my discomfort he casually crossed his hands over himself, but not obviously.
“I like to sleep as naturally as possible.” He gives me a smile and puts on one of the robes hanging on a hook next to the door. “So, I was wondering if you’d rather sleep in this bed instead of the seat they’ve converted downstairs. You’ll be far more comfortable here.”
I’m totally shocked by the offer. “Oh, no I couldn’t. The bed downstairs is perfectly fine. Thank you for letting me use your shower, it was wonderful and I feel almost like me again. Trust me, I’ve slept in far worse places.” Oh, my gosh I must sound like a complete ho-bag, but it’s out there and I can’t take it back.
He just chuckles. “Well, I myself find airplane bed conversions to be very uncomfortable and murder on the back. I always get a bed.” He winks.
