Mile High Club

Any attempt to hear the bathroom lock over the noise of the airplane is futile. Standing in front of the bi-folding metal door, prepared to leave, or at least having the appearance of leaving if anyone pressed through the unlocked opening. I take a deep breath before pushing the aperture into a pleat and step…

Hate Fuck

His laughter burns a hole through my chest and my hatred for him radiates off my skin. My fingers clench, the tips rub against the sweat of my palms. My entire body is damp with contempt. In the corner of the club he sits at the end of one of the VIP booths with one arm…