My name is Spencer Carlin, and As I boarded the American Airlines jet for the 10:00 PM red eye back to JFK, I figured that with a little luck I could catch five or six hours of sleep. I was one of those post-doctoral students you hear about, scrambling to get my career
started. I had been in Los Angeles since Sunday afternoon, and the next two days had been spent in a whirlwind of conferences, dinner parties, workshops, and presentations. I was tired, and ready to go home. I had a 10:00 AM meeting on Wednesday with the head of my
department because she was planning to leave for Europe for three months and needed me to take her place in charge of things. The paper I presented at the conference had created a little stir and I considered the trip to overall be a complete success. I hoped that my mentor would think so as well.

The good news was that this was a non-stop flight and, thanks to
frequent flyer miles, I was booked into business class. I had made it to the airport early enough to change out of my business clothes, into a cotton, button-down-the side skirt, loose knit top and sandals. I looked forward to settling into my seat and dozing off. I was sorry to be leaving Los Angeles so soon. I had never been there before and would have enjoyed seeing some of the city, but I couldn’t miss this meeting.

I had an aisle seat on the left side of the plane. The boarding area
had been pretty empty and I mentally crossed my fingers hoping that no one would claim the window seat next to me. Easing all five feet five inches and 120 pounds of me into the seat, I closed my eyes and actually had started to doze off, when I heard a soft voice say

"Excuse me, but I think I have the seat next to you."

I opened my eyes to see a beautiful girl, with tan skin, reddish-brown hair and a lovely figure looking down at me. I guessed her to be about the same age as me. Dressed in a black skirt with
barely concealing what lay beneath, a skin tight red top and black boots that screamed rock star, she looked good enough to eat. To top it off, she had pert little breasts and, since her nipples seemed ready to poke right through the material of her top, I assumed she wasn’t wearing a bra. The girl must have mistaken the surprise she read on my face for annoyance, because she blushed a little and said