Teleportation was very hard, and took a lot of power, if your destination
was to a real place. But some teleports were easier than others: if you went
somewhere nearby, or that wasn’t your real destination, or that had strong
associations with transition and movement, or that very few living things would
ever treat as a home or destination. The practical upshot was, teleporting to
the nearest airport wasn’t that hard at all. Teleporting to the nearest bus
station was even easier, but never worth it.
The last wizard in the world materialized in an unoccupied men’s room stall
and walked out into the terminal. He was already past security, of course, but
he didn’t have a ticket or ID. Not that it mattered; those sorts of rules were
for other people.
He found the flight he wanted and scanned the travelers waiting to board. He
soon found what he was looking for: a young woman, tall and slim, with long,
wavy brown hair and a pretty face. She was wearing a college sweatshirt and
jeans–a private college, and designer jeans, and the bracelet on her wrist and
the chain around her neck were real gold.
Softly, he touched her mind. Yes, as he expected: a college student from a
wealthy family, headed home for the summer. First-class, of course. Ticket
number… ah, yes, 4B.
Now came the slightly harder part: he slowly expanded his mind, reaching out
to cover the entire waiting area for this flight, but carefully walling off the
flight attendants and everyone waiting for for other flights. He sent a thought
out seeking, and it soon came bouncing back: 4A. A middle-aged man in
a suit held the ticket for the seat next to the wizard’s target.
The wizard narrowed his focus down to that man, and pushed a few thoughts
into his head. A moment later, the man blanched, then jumped hastily to his
feet, grabbed his carry-on, and rushed to the bathroom the wizard had just
vacated.
The wizard smiled as he walked up to the girl with the ticket for 4B. Not
his most subtle work, but it would do.
Jennifer had no idea who the man was who sat next to her. He was small,
compactly built, generally nondescript. Possibly Asian, but she couldn’t quite
place what made her think that.
He wasn’t her type at all, and besides which, she had a boyfriend at school.
But the man was charming, and actually quite handsome, and as it turned out he
coincidentally had the seat right next to hers. (Though if she or any of the
flight attendants had thought about it really hard, they’d realize they had no
memory of ever actually seeing his ticket–but why would they think about that
when they knew he had seat 4A?)
By the time the captain warned them to prepare for take off, Jennifer
realized she wanted this mysterious stranger more than she’d ever wanted
anyone. By the time the plane leveled out and the seatbelt sign turned off, she
was surreptitiously stroking his cock. A minute later, it was in her mouth.
By the time they landed, there were three new truths in Jessica’s life:
First, she was now part of the Mile-High Club. Second, she was going to bring
this man home with her to meet her family and stay with them.
Finally, and most importantly, she belonged to him. Completely, utterly, and
forever.
To be continued…
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