I stand not far outside the security doors, hands clenching and unclenching, excited, mouth dry, all nervous ticks on full display. In my pocket, a mangled piece of paper has a flight number and an arrival time hastily scribbled on it. On my head, a hat, as requested. On my feet, boots freshly blacked and polished. Though my mouth is dry, my mind races over possibilities that ensure my pussy is not.
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