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I smeared the eggs with the last piece of toast and looked at her across my cup of Joe. Flight-attendant Sequoia had thrown on a large T-shirt but rested her foot on a rung of my kitchen chair, allowing a full view just under the seam. It would've been startling, but it was something I'd just seen after a night of fun with her. She fluffed the hem against her bare flesh and smiled. "It's just a little shorter than my minis. Anyway, do you always have to eat after you've just had a woman?" I nodded. "It always has a way of energizing me." I'll bet any man would need energy to keep up with her, due to her long, blonde, Swedish-looking hair that came down and winked at her nipples in the morning light. Those sat on firmly-rounded C cups that looked up at you when you kissed her. If those weren't looking at you, her flecked green eyes did, coupled with a wry smile. She lit a 120 cigarette and settled back, studying me. "Well save it, I'm tired." A toothy grin blew blue smoke slowly to the ceiling. "You're pretty good. I liked it. It was one of those rare occasions I wish I'd have been your ex, Breann." My ex, Breann. We'd been something, a couple, for two years. That was until I came home one day and found all of her stuff gone, except for her goodbye note. Many nights were spent contemplating what happened and why, only to be washed away in alcohol and sleep. All the other flight attendants at the airline loved her and I suspected she was still with the company, somewhere. Bits and pieces of gossip. Everyone noticed her. Jet-black hair ran straight down a back that ended with two small, raised buns. Slender legs ran up to small hips that were a delight to hold, and the light on them was shadowed from a pair of 42s. ...

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