A/N:

Here's a new Swingtown story for you guys! And to my dear followers who read "A Swinging Surprise", I do intend on writing that, but I just don't get as much oomph to write it as often as I do OUAT or this. Please forgive me, and I hope to update it soon!

This story is about Trina; she's twenty-one years old and unmarried. It's her first year being a flight attendant, and her second week on Captain Decker's route.

We learn how the Deckers met and interacted before the marriage, which is something I've always wondered. Also, I was scrolling through the Swingtown category on FF and realized there's not one M rated story...so I had to change that ;) I mean c'mon, this was a show about something pretty scandalous and there's no mature stories? Sheesh. ;)

I hope you enjoy! This will end up being a full story, not just a one-shot.

..

...

"Captain Decker?" Her voice rings through the intercom from the one cab to the next like sweet, soft music. "Your coffee is ready, would you like it in your-"

"Yes." He answers quickly, making Trina smile and straighten her spine out a little before opening the door into the small hallway, opening yet another door to the pilot's cab.

The coffee is in an open, ceramic mug, steam whooshing off of it to let him know that it's very fresh, just made. Her smile is big, her hair is perfectly curly (but when they land in Miami, it won't be again from all of the humidity), and she leans over a bit to hand it to him. When she leans, her shirt is unbuttoned only at the top, letting a little more cleavage to show than her bosses would honestly permit. "There you are, Captain Decker. Enjoy." She coos, keeping that same, warm smile as she turns on one heel, walking out of his cab.

It's her second week on this route, her first full year being a stewardess. Everyone has their different reasons for becoming a flight attendant, but for Trina Russo she had a very dirty reason, one that wouldn't make her mother very proud if she knew it.

For being twenty-one, she's slept with more men than most women these days would be proud to say. She'd only had one boy that she'd actually liked, and that ended in high school. His name was Luke McPartlin, and he was the boy whom she'd first slept with. All throughout high school, they were pretty steady. He would give her adorable little love notes and such that would turn into an evening in the backseat of his 1957 Chevorlet Bel-Air Hardtop, red seats and all.

Although, hot, steamy nights were easy in high school, they weren't so easy to keep up after they graduated. He went to law school, she didn't even care to be in any other school, and they eventually parted ways. He was the first boy that ever got hold of her, but most certainly not the last.

Three years later, now, she's never had a steady relationship like it was with Luke. One night stands, and those were often. Especially since she has become a flight attendant, starting on the route to Atlanta, then to New York City, and now onto this route. The one where she feels the need to compete, because she knows Captain Decker's reputation. The other woman she works with is one just barely older than her, twenty-four, and her name is Patty. Blonde, slim, tall, and perfect complexion. But she's somewhat awkward, and Trina wonders how she's ever gotten the courage to sleep with the captain when she can hardly look men in the eye on the plane while giving them alcohol.

Nonetheless, Trina unbuttons her top button as soon as the door to the outside closes, and buttons it back when it opens in Chicago. She can't let her bosses know what's going on (or at least, what she's trying to get to go on), and she doesn't want to lose her job over a simple mistake she could make like that.

After the small, closet-like door closes to the room she and Patty are in, she leans against the small rolling table where all of the food and drinks are, folding her arms over her stomach and crossing her legs in front of her. "So," She begins, keeping calm and collected, but about to start some gossip, "Are you and Captain Decker...a – an item?" She asks, raising a brow mischievously and waiting for the naive girl's answer.

Her face looks slightly surprised as she turns to face the brunette, holding a Coca-Cola can in her hand. "I – isn't every woman he works with an item with him?"

Trina huffs, smiling and standing up on both feet. For some reason, she feels a twinge of jealousy, looks at her outfit and wonders why he hasn't tried to make a move on her yet. After all, she's given him every opportunity to do so. She feels insecure, and that's something she's never felt in her life (other than at the events her mother has dragged her to).

"Let me guess," Patty continues, taking the position Trina was holding (but somehow, didn't look as calm as she had), "He hasn't tried you out yet?"

A coy brow is raised, "Tried me out? Honey, I'm not a play toy." She snips, taking her position back. "I'm a woman, one that has had more experience than some prostitute."

And that's where Patty backs away, making Trina wonder what she'd just said to make her do that. "Well I'm not-"

"Oh, no..." She realizes, then, that she thinks she was accusing her of being said prostitute, assuring, "I didn't mean that. I've been on other routes, Patty, I know what captains like. Trust me, Captain Decker's room wouldn't be the first captain's I'll be going in if we ever have a delay, that's for sure." and smiles proudly, more of a smug grin than a smile.

Was she proud of all of the men she's been with? Not necessarily. She's not overly proud of her number, she's not overly proud of the choices of men she's made, but she feels pretty damn great with a little Quaalude and a lot of sex. Lots. Besides, it's not like she's ever going to be that person to settle down, get married and become a little housewife, and have loads of bratty kids that she'll have to deal with. It's not her, nor will it ever be.

"Oh..." and Patty seems suddenly alarmed by that too. Trina is beginning to wonder if there's anything that this girl isn't alarmed about. This woman, actually, she isn't even a girl. She's older than her. What's the deal? "So...you have...experience?" She asks, hushing her voice on the last word like it was some big deal.

And it isn't a huge deal, but it could get them both fired, plus the captain and possibly his co-pilot. It's dangerous talking about this stuff sometimes when they're in this position of work, but Trina doesn't feel the need to hide it, just carefully stow it away when other's shouldn't hear. "Plenty, dear." She answers, becoming looser in her stance and smiling slightly.

Suddenly, Trina feels this tiny room stocked with food and drinks get smaller when Patty's dark brown eyes are watching her. They're like her mother's eyes when she caught Luke sneaking out of her room, completely...judgey. Judgmental and silently telling her she's a slut, just by one look. Again, she's feeling insecure for the second time in one day. "I guess – not that it's...a bad thing." Patty finally admits, making Trina not feel quite so harsh on herself. "I mean, not in this day and age I suppose."

"Not at all. Women can be just as...well, women can have as much sex as men." She answers, always being blunt and open about the subject. She's never felt that it's something to be kept in, sex is natural and something we all do at one point. She's just done it with more men at twenty-one than most her age. "And it's not something we should be ashamed of." She makes sure to add, shrugging it off and turning toward the cart to dig around in the metal ice bucket, taking out a can of Coca-Cola for herself.

Patty is nodding after a moment to think, and she sips at her can before setting it down. "Captain Decker really is the best."

And with that, Trina is seen biting her lip. Before she can answer, the intercom is on for assistance on row eight, seat D. With that, she nods toward the blonde with a small smile, fixes her top button, and walks out to meet the person who needed her.

..

…

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Miami International Airport. Local time is 8:35 PM and the temperature is nice and warm at eighty-five degrees. For your safety and comfort, please stay seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about." Her voice is orating smoothly throughout the fuzzy intercom as she explains what her passengers need to do during the landing into Miami, "On behalf of Pan-American Airlines and the entire crew, I'd like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. I hope you have a nice stay here in Miami, or wherever your travels may take you." and finally, that's the end of that.

She hangs the communicator up on the wall where it goes, opens the door to prepare passengers to leave, and one-by-one helps them by saying Watch your step and Have a nice stay. Same thing every day, and damn was that humidity ferocious. She could practically feel her perm falling out of it's hold just from standing beside the door.

But it makes it all okay when Captain Decker squishes beside her, trying to move past her but hitting her back side instead. "Sorry, Miss Russo."

His voice is deep, a mature man; his eyes are tired, well expected; and his body is hard and muscular, a strong one. Her mind has wandered to think of what it would feel like for his nice, tan arms to be around her naked form, accidentally forgetting to do her job before a passenger trips on the way out. She catches him just a time before he really falls, and gives a warm smile. "Sorry about that, have a nice stay." She tells him, bringing her nice, warm stewardess voice back.

His nod is reassuring to let her know that he isn't upset about it, and she's glad for that. She may have taken the job for it's perks, but she doesn't like to have upset passengers. She likes the job for what it is, too.

Only a few more people, and she can go back and flirt with the Captain once he gets out of the lavatory.

And that's exactly once she does while Patty is in the other cabin, cleaning up a few things and Trina is making the rounds to check the carry-ons. "Hello, Captain Decker. Can I get you anything?" She asks, her warm smile reappearing as she leans against one of the seats.

He's just come out of the lavatory, and he's running his fingers through his mid-length, dirty blonde hair. "Ah, no thanks, Miss Russo."

Damn it. She just wants a chance to be around him more...why is he turning her down? And continuing to turn her down, even after her trying to get through to him?

Finally, once the co-pilot leaves the helm where the captain has gone, she follows him in there and shuts the door behind her. "Captain Decker?"

"Miss Russo?"

She nods, biting her lip subtly before leaning back against the wall behind them, "I'm not as naive as you seem to think I am, Captain Decker."

He turns around from his seat, narrowing his eyes at her and furrowing his brow. "Enough with the captain." He states before standing up, invading her space (she's pretty sure it's purposely, too), "And who ever said you were naive, Miss Russo?"

"Trina." She corrects politely, cocking her jaw to the side a little before going on, "I'm pretty sure you think I am, simply because I'm one of the youngest to work on this airline who isn't a trainee."

He nods once, slowly, sizing her up (she thinks). His arms are crossing in front of him as he leans against the back of his seat, crossing his feet out in front of him. "And what do I think you're naive at, Trina?" He asks, his voice is low and coy, and she knows he's playing with her. She knows that he knows what she's talking about.

"Can we drop the act?" She finally asks, "I'm tired of the charade, and we're both staying in the same hotel." She states, tilting her head and suddenly looking about ten times more seductive than she was in her last sentence.

She can see the change in his expression, like he's glad, also, that they've dropped the game, he replies, "I suppose you're wanting a night in my room, then." and smiles somewhat mischievously.

Her brows flick upward as a short reply, "A night in your bed, actually."

As he watches her, the corners of his lips pull up into a bit of a smirk from his little mischievous, "Forward, huh?"

"I have my experience." And with that, he nods, understanding that she really isn't so naive, which makes her breathe inward with a heavy sense or relaxation, glad she doesn't have to prove herself that she's ready. "Besides, we've both been on this jet all day, don't you think the both of us need a little bit of...relaxation?" She asks, clicking her tongue somehow in a way that has driven any man crazy.

His little smirk is now turning into a grin, a smile, and then a larger smile, "Well, let's get on with it, shall we?" He asks, moving past her (invading her space – again) and opening the cabin door to the outer part of the plane, then slipping through the last door where the crew was already waiting for them to get off.

Her smile is proud, happy with herself that she's finally got Captain Decker, and he's about to have her in his bed.

..

…

Green-Eyed Lady by Sugarloaf is playing in his room when she walks up. She can hear it while standing outside of his door where she told him she would meet him. She's brushing her fingers through her hair. Green-eyed lady, wind-swept lady, rules the night, the waves, the sand. Green-eyed lady, ocean lady, child of nature, friend of man. She clears her throat, hopes she looks presentable in her stewardess uniform, and knocks on the door.

He turns the music down, and she knows he's coming for the door. Room 747, how ironic. When the door swings open, he's only in his pants. His chest is bare, and her eyes immediately fall down to the small patch of hair that's there. She smiles, he lets her in, and it's completely silent as she's setting her purse down beside the small couch in his room.

"Good evening, Trina." He says, pouring a drink for her. She wonders what it is, but she never asks before she takes it.

He's got one in his hands too, and it looks exactly the same. Up to her lips, she brings the glass of what appears to have been gin and something else, which she can't quite put her finger on and decide what it is. Not to mention, there's a slice of lime in with it, swishing around with the cubes of ice. She doesn't really enjoy limes all that much (except for when she has tequila, of course), but even then she sometimes chooses the lemon instead of lime. With a little jolt, she figures it to be gin and tonic. It wouldn't be her first choice, but she's sure the captain probably is somewhat limited at the hotel.

He's setting it down, now, once she comes out of her thoughts. "Good evening, Mr. Decker." She replies, realizing she doesn't exactly know what to call him now that he told her no Captain. Did that mean just no captain, or no Decker? Just Tom?

Apparently it's just Tom, because he answers her and tells her so. She nods, setting her drink down and biting her lip. She's never waited this long to just get on with it, and she's wondering what's taking so long.

Finally, he's walking over to her, the smell of gin on his breath as he runs his hand along the back of her neck, the end of his fingers through her curly hair. "You ready?"

And with that, he's captivated her already. Somehow. She's never felt so intimated by a man before, not with Luke, not with the last two pilots, not with anyone. She's normally very strong, intimidates others easily, but this man was different. So all she can seem to do is nod, biting her lip down even harder than it was before.

He nods in reply to hers, runs his left hand along her right side and stops just below her ass, sliding it around to rest underneath, then picks her up on his hips with only that arm supporting her light weight.

She's gained her confidence, her lips are on his in no time, now, and he's walking backwards with her on him. Tongues are already dancing, it's already heated and already, somehow, passionate. She sees what everyone talks about, how easy it is to love him like this.

The backs of his clothed legs hit the bed, falling backwards with her landing on his chest, straddling his hips still and suddenly grinding against his slight bulge. Her eyes open, her mouth slowly leaves his, and her smile comes back (not as warm, but more seductive like it was when she was trying to prove herself to him earlier). "One more thing, I don't want to get pregnant." She whispers, somewhat ruining the heat for a moment before he digs in his pocket, a little foil packet emerging in his fingers.

He tells her that he's already ahead of her, that he doesn't want kids either. And with that, she presses her lips back on his, slides her arms around to the back of his neck, and his grinding her hips against his again.

He's using his feet that are now on the bed to scoot back into a better spot on the mattress, holding and groping at her ass before rolling them over. Her smile is devious under him, keeping her arms locked around his neck. "I do hope you know, Tom, that I'm not as naive as you think I am. Really."

He smiles, already working his nimble fingers (she can tell he's well-experienced, because he doesn't fumble around with them like some do). The buttons are all un-done, her top is open and her skin is now bare. Her bra is almost see-through, black, but completely lace. Her nipples are hardened underneath the thin material, partially from the sudden drop in temperature and from being aroused. "I didn't expect you to be, especially not after seeing this." He notes, pointing his head down to the sexy piece of lingerie she's sporting.

She doesn't blush, never has except for her first time. But she does feel a bubble in her stomach, one that makes her lip be bitten down again between her teeth. She's not sure if she's doing that to stop herself from answering something too naughty for this early in the night, or if she's doing it to avoid the blush that's bound to come if he keeps giving her sweet nothings like he's doing right now. "Well, I guess surprises come in many forms." She whispers, giving a subtle, beautiful wink at the end of that sentence before his hands are already helping her bra down her chest.

He's greedy, she can feel it. She can tell he's wanting all of her, but she's going to be a complete bitch and not give it all to him in such short amount of time. She's going to demand the foreplay, she's going to demand the touching, feeling, and licking and all of that sort of thing before he ever even gets to touch what he wants against what he wants.

And she's telling him that with her hand, by grabbing his wrist at her waist, cooing, "Ah ah, I say when." and wrapping her leg around his hip, demanding that she have a little control here.

His jaw is cocked to the left slightly, and she's noticed over the past two weeks that it's what he does when he's slightly irritated. So she smiles, proud of herself yet again that she's taken a little piece of him already. But his eyes are almost pleading, almost speaking to her without ever having to move his lips. She's having trouble ignoring it, but she closes her own dark browns and pulls his head to her – crashing their mouths together with a groan from the both of them.

With that, she's getting that ball of heat that's starting to disperse and warm her up in all the right places, exactly where she wants. Her heel is digging into his tight ass, and he lets out another loud moan when she digs in particularly hard. He jolts forward into her lips, and she's got him where she wants him.

Her bra straps are stretched to their limit, the thin material kissing her skin above her navel. He's now kissing down her chin, to her warm neck, and down to her chest. He stops for a moment, giving extra attention – where he'd skipped over the first time – just below her ear, placing his lips in short kisses around to her hairline.

He's making her shudder, making her leg want to weaken against his ass and making her want to give in, say hell with the foreplay and move on, let him show her what he's about.

But she won't give into her own needs like that. She's going to either be equally in control with him or she'll have all of the control. Nothing in between. "You're lips are feeling needy, Tom." She's cooing as he moves his kisses down to her collarbone, making their way slowly down to her sternum.

He pauses for a moment, lifts his lips enough off of her skin to just barely skin the porcelain colored softness, "And your lips are barely there, Trina." He whispers, and it makes her narrow her eyes defensively, like suddenly he thinks she's not doing her part.

So she stops him with a swift palm to his chest, somehow managing to catch him off guard and roll him over onto his back. Her legs are straddling him again, her bra riding up and pressing her breasts up with it, "Fine, I'll show you where my lips are used best, Tom." And the way she says his name with emphasis, makes herself wonder what the hell she's doing trying to play the more dominant one.

But her mind isn't playing along with her fingers, because they're already pushing his pants down his legs. Hopping off of him just long enough to get him stripped to nothing, she takes his hardened cock in her fingers and puckers her lips, smiling at him devilishly before puckering again and placing them on his member. He shudders like she did, and she's suddenly proud of herself again. She has him in her hand, still, circling his tip with the end of her tongue before placing another kiss, right there. Right – there.

"Damn..." He hisses, making the top of his head dig into the pillows, the result of him arching his back. His hands reach down to her, pulling her on top of him easily. "You've shown me, Tri...you're not naive." He finally admits, his eyes gazing up and down her body.

In reality, that's what she's been waiting to hear. It may not have been said in her mind, but that's what she's just been waiting for from him. So she gives in to him, sitting on top of him and letting her skirt ride at her hips (where it's been since the first time she was straddling him. Heaven knows how many skirts she's ripped doing just this).

She leans into him, getting dangerously close to his lips, whispering, "It's Trina." realizing he called her otherwise, and then swiftly opening the small foil packet earlier laid out, sliding the condom onto his length. They were barely on a first name basis, and no more than that. No nicknames, no pet names, simply their names.

He looks in her eyes, trying to figure her out. It makes her feel as though she's some mysterious creature that he's the first to discover, but what he is really doing is just trying to figure out if she's human or not. She's sure most of the women he's been with don't mind the cutesy little names, but she's not most women.

She's now letting him grope her again, letting him feel and touch her ass (because that's all he needs of her, right now. No more, no less). She's letting soft little groans out when he does something she likes, letting him know what she wants and doesn't want. Her lips are on his again, discovering more about them than she'd ever imagined.

They're so soft – minus the prodding mustache – and so warm, too. She feels something shoot through her when her lips are there, and she can't quite place what it is. Kind of like the gin and tonic earlier.

Finally, she's ready to let him have more. She shimmies out of her shirt that's been hanging on her shoulders, letting it fall back and she throws it on the floor beside the bed. Next, she's reaching for her bra, but he places his hands underneath hers and undoes the clasp with ease, tossing it to the side. She suddenly thinks she should keep him around just for that – taking her bra off every night.

Before she knows it, she's sitting on top of him again – naked. But not for long, because he's already rolling them over and putting her on her back. With a swift movement, he turns her on her stomach (in a gentle manner, he's never rough, she notices). Hands are back on her ass, rubbing and sliding down to her thighs to open them up, exposing her wetness and warmth for him. She's ready, and she's not even ashamed to admit she is. He turns her on, and somehow he does it so effortlessly.

In no time, his fingers are already playing with her. He slides one finger inside of her, getting a good feel for her before sliding another, stretching her out some and preparing her for his own size. His ring finger is stretched out, touching and rubbing her clit with little, circular motions that make her moan, that make her want to see his face while she's being so pleased like this.

She decides that's what she wants, and she flips her leg over his arm without even making him have to move, flipping over to her back. She sits up, tightening her muscles around his finger when she uses her abs, and brings her hands to his cheeks. Crashing into each other yet again, they're caught up in moans. His fingers start to pump in and out of her, and she's moaning louder than he. She grips at his neck, pulling her up and making her legs straddle back farther than their original state. "Mmph, is this really how you want to see me come?" She asks, shaking and hoping he doesn't say yes. She doesn't want to come like this. She wants to come with him inside of her. Not his fingers.

With that, he removes the two fingers (thankfully) and pushes her legs back, making room for his body to snuggle up in between them, stating, "I'm just making sure you get all the foreplay you're asking for, Trina." saying her name like she did his earlier.

She wants to roll her eyes, but with his cock circling her entrance it's all she can do to keep them from just rolling in the back of her head. She hadn't realized how needy she is for him, but she's really wet, really hot, and – Ah! He's sliding in, guiding himself into her slowly, making her eyes clench shut and her teeth grit together to hold back a loud moan. After all, they're only in a thin-walled hotel room.

Once she's loosened her death grip on his member, he begins to move in and out of her, repositioning himself to look for her spot. He's searching for it, she can tell, but he's also so relaxed that she wonders if he's on a drug. Hopefully not, he's flying her jet back to Chicago tomorrow morning. And then ahh...he finds it. She closes her eyes, channels an inner moan and keeps it in, gripping at her legs to hold them back from wanting to close.

Her right hand slides down her leg, down her thigh and to her stomach, lower, lower, and to her clit. She's throbbing, she's needy everywhere and he just isn't giving her what she wants. Partially, but not fully. And all it's doing is making her frustrated.

But he sees her before she can even start moving her fingers around, and he replaces hers with his. "I've got this." He chokes out, sounding like he was having to hold back a moan, himself.

At least he's helping, she thinks to herself, and then suddenly she's already being so pleased that her heart feels like it's about to pound from her chest. She has nowhere to place her hands now, nowhere to touch on herself...other than her breasts. And that's where they slowly start to slide up to, rubbing and pinching her nipples gently in between her fingers. Letting out a short, soft moan when he hits that spot over and over again at a slow and gentle pace.

Her eyes open, meeting his and nodding once toward him, moaning, "Faster." and soon after adding in harder.

He obliges, meets her every need and every want, soon pounding into her at a good pace while still keeping his steady, circular motions on her clit. She knows she won't last long while they keep this up, she can already feeling that coil in her stomach tighten up. Winding, winding, and winding until it's time to break.

She insists to herself that she won't be the first to break, still stubborn enough inside her head that he needs to be the one to go first. She wouldn't be so easily taken, and she wasn't about to start.

She closes her legs, knowing it makes her feel tighter around him, makes his size feel even larger. The sudden shift makes him moan, his hips jolt into her and causing a chain reaction, her body jolting back into his. His hand has had to be removed from her clit, due to her closing her legs, and he's now thrusting harder, faster, making the cheap bed beneath them squeak at their back and forth motions.

Finally, his hips are slowing down, and one more, final jerk and he's spilling over. Thankfully, because she's been on edge for the last fifteen seconds, but has held on until now where every muscle around him is clenching so tightly that neither of them can move, neither of them are easily breathing, and neither of them have ever climaxed so hard in their lives.

And they're both realizing that as they try to reposition themselves from the originally frozen position. He's sliding out of her gently, her muscles still contracting and her chest still moving up and down heavily.

She suddenly feels like Patty looked: awkward. She's moving slowly, already slightly sore from how well he had just fucked her, and she's attempting to sit up. Once she finally makes it in the upright position, she looks over at him (he's already sprawled out on the bed, not caring what's being shown before her), and smiling at her. "You alright there, Trina?"

With a tilt of her head, she nods and narrows her eyes, "Quite alright." She replies, making herself sit up more and make herself look more comfortable than she really is. "I've just...that was...I see what everyone talks about now."

His smile is somewhat proud, a little cocky. His hands are behind his head and he nods, "I guess I have quite the reputation."

As she's getting off of the bed, picking her clothes up along the way, she nods and replies, "You do. And you've held up to it, too."

..

…

The next morning, her alarm clock is very rude to her and wants her to get out of the bed at the hellish hour of 5:30 after a night like she just had. Nonetheless, she does it, because she knows two things: One, she'll get fired for not showing up to work. Two, she doesn't want to get stuck in Miami, Florida, even if it is party central.

Back on the plane with no words to the captain, simply goes about her job at 7:30 AM, helping passengers get situated and putting the carry-ons up high, and little looks between each other throughout the whole flight. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less – just the way Trina likes it.

..

...

A/N:

What'd you think? If you liked it, let me know in the reviews so I know whether or not to continue it! Also, give it a follow for if I do decide to continue :) Thank you!

G.