With the holidays just around the corner, I thought I’d share a couple of my sexy airport games.

Since I unknowingly married a spanker, one of our favorites is called Spanky Butt.

The object of the game is to find, and then discreetly point out to your traveling partner, a fellow traveler with an ass that is just begging to be spanked. 

For example, I might grab my man’s elbow, lean into him and say Whack as I turn my gaze across the terminal towards a business woman in high heels and tight dress slacks that hug her voluptuous hips so perfectly that my hand stings with the desire to give her an appreciative slap.

The challenge is to catch that short window of visibility so your partner can appreciate a Spanky Butt without both of you looking like idiots.

So, try to abstain from grabbing your partner’s hand and running through a terminal to catch up with a Spanky. Also, this game isn’t about anatomical perfection. It’s more about timing, discretion, and the attitude of the person sporting that spankable butt.

You can still play even if you are flying solo. Or you can toy with this one: You absolutely must pick a lover from the collection of people at your gate.  Who do you pick?

Wishing you safe, sexy travels!

P.S. I'm traveling for the Thanksgiving holiday so I won't be posting next week.  Enjoy

11/16/2012 05:30:05 pm

Love this. I love it when people have little fun games they like to play. Thank you for sharing. Next time I am traveling I am sure that I will think about this post.

11/25/2012 10:39:50 am

So glad you enjoyed the post, Cynthia. These games really do make for sexy travel. My man and I had a super sexy time picking out lovers at our gate in Dallas last week.

11/23/2012 09:37:11 am

I like people watching, too. My favorite people watching game is to dress them up in clothes from different historic eras. The businessman becomes an 18th century fop, the harassed mother a Victorian princess. That could be sexy...

11/25/2012 10:45:49 am

That sounds very sexy, Rose. Of course I start to envision corsets and cleavage.

11/29/2012 12:16:35 am

Your post reminded me of this poem by Ellen Bass that I love:

Gate C22
At gate C22 in the Portland airport
a man in a broad-band leather hat kissed
a woman arriving from Orange County.
They kissed and kissed and kissed. Long after
the other passengers clicked the handles of their carry-ons
and wheeled briskly toward short-term parking,
the couple stood there, arms wrapped around each other
like he'd just staggered off the boat at Ellis Island,
like she'd been released at last from ICU, snapped
out of a coma, survived bone cancer, made it down
from Annapurna in only the clothes she was wearing.

Neither of them was young. His beard was gray.
She carried a few extra pounds you could imagine
her saying she had to lose. But they kissed lavish
kisses like the ocean in the early morning,
the way it gathers and swells, sucking
each rock under, swallowing it
again and again. We were all watching--
passengers waiting for the delayed flight
to San Jose, the stewardesses, the pilots,
the aproned woman icing Cinnabons, the man selling
sunglasses. We couldn't look away. We could
taste the kisses crushed in our mouths.

But the best part was his face. When he drew back
and looked at her, his smile soft with wonder, almost
as though he were a mother still open from giving birth,
as your mother must have looked at you, no matter
what happened after--if she beat you or left you or
you're lonely now--you once lay there, the vernix
not yet wiped off, and someone gazed at you
as if you were the first sunrise seen from the Earth.
The whole wing of the airport hushed,
all of us trying to slip into that woman's middle-aged body,
her plaid Bermuda shorts, sleeveless blouse, glasses,
little gold hoop earrings, tilting our heads up.

11/30/2012 02:14:44 am

They kissed and kissed and kissed... Jude, I love this poem. Such passion. And everyone in the airport recognizing it, stopping to take it in.

Thank you for sharing.


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