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Gangway #2Angelika Fremd


She adjusted her straps as she walked into the airport coffee lounge. In her brace-and-bib skirt, frilly blouse, suspender belt and stockings, not to speak of her unfashionably flared petticoat, she felt as if she had been packaged and wrapped. I've given in again, she thought, dressed to please HIM. Making certain that no-one was watching she propelled herself toward the food counter where she bought a cup of coffee and a magazine. Then she settled into a seat in the far corner of the cafe to sip her coffee and leaf through the magazine. She hunched her shoulders to make herself look inconspicuous.

A young man sitting at one of the tables had been watching her. Now he noticed the way she pretended to read a magazine while she tugged at the straps that framed her voluminous breasts, straightened her stockings and pushed back her hair. He found her appealing. Lucky man, he thought, assuming she was waiting for her husband or lover. Then he thought of the girls he knew, clad in jeans, hair cropped short, breasts a mere bump. When she started to search for her lighter, an unlit cigarette in her hand, he found his cue.

"Can I give you a light?"

She leant forward, the cigarette in her mouth. After lighting her cigarette she pulled back suddenly aware that she had made a mistake.

"Do you mind if I sit here, I'm waiting for someone. So are you, aren't you?"

Before she had time to reply, he seated himself opposite her.

"I'm waiting for my husband," she said curtly to make sure he knew she was attached to someone.

Then she wondered what this young man saw when he looked at her.

"My husband likes me to dress this way. He's been away for three months. I want to please him," she said.

"Great minds think alike," he smirked.

"I feel stupid," she burst out. "I look stupid!" She gathered her things and got up to go.

"Hey, don't go. It's not an insult to say you look great, is it? I noticed you the moment you came in. I'll get you another coffee, ok?"

Reluctantly she agreed and settled back in her seat. Her corset itched and the stockings cut into the tops of her legs.

"He's bound to bring me back some sexy underwear, lace or leather from Paris," she told the young man when he returned with the coffee. She thought of the sexual theatre she and her husband would enact. He would dress her in his presents, tell her she was beautiful, and finally make love to her as dressed up doll. She longed for him to make love to 'her,' her personality, her body, unadorned and undistorted.

The young man stared at her. He thought of her in a see-through negligee and moved closer to the table. He felt excited as he pictured her in black lacy underwear standing coyly before her husband.

"Have you got a girlfriend or a wife?" she asked.

"I'm sort of between girlfriends," he admitted.

"What would you bring your girlfriend if you had one, if you hadn't seen her for three months," she said. "Would you bring her something for herself like flowers or perfume to show you care about her as person, or would you bring her clothes that make her look like someone else, like a picture in 'Playboy' maybe, or a film star."

He was more careful in answering this time. He imagined her in crutchless pants. Cautiously he said, "Flowers of course and maybe French perfume."

She was satisfied with his reply and smiled at him. The loudspeaker crackled. She made out the announcement for the arrival of her husband's flight. In ten minutes he would be fondling her straps and feeling for her corset. Nausea began to tighten her stomach muscles. If only he would bring her roses, just once, and notice that it was she who inhabited the straps she wore.

The young man watched her move toward one of the gates. Then he lost sight of her for a few minutes. He wanted to see this husband of hers.

When he saw her again, he stared in disbelief. She was standing at gate eleven. She had taken off her skirt and blouse and was now removing her petticoat. Security guards were heading toward her and a crowd was beginning to gather. She stopped undressing when she saw her husband come through the gate. Almost naked except for her suspender belt, she offered him her petticoat like a welcoming present.

The young man noticed that her husband was carrying a large bunch of roses in his arms. Husband and wife stood for a time gaping at each other while the young man swore because he had missed his flight.


© Angelika Fremd and Gerald Ganglbauer 1996 Copyright Disclaimer