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Air Fling
This is my first posting
... I have more to share in the future if you like this, but
must post anonymously, since I am a senior manager at a Fortune
100 company and knowledge about my extra-curricular activities
would cause the end of my career. It was hot and steamy as we
arrived at the airport in Brisbane for the long journey home
to Boston. This was the end of a month-long campervan vacation
in Australia, and I, for one, was overjoyed to be heading back
to some normalcy. For an entire month my wife Anne (I call her
"the queen") had avoided sex in the campervan, or anywhere
else for that matter, since "the children are nearby."
- The irony of her way of thinking will be evident shortly. Actually,
she is not very interested in sex anytime, since she was taught
by her mother that sex was "dirty." The only time she
ever saw her parents making love, they were fully clothed (hike
up the skirt, dear - I'll just quickly unzip.) Sometimes I wonder
how we ever ended up with three children; one is grown and on
her own, the two boys (Ralph, 17 and Trevor, 14) were with us
on holiday. Because I travel regularly, I have opportunity for
other sexual outlets during the year, but four plus weeks within
close quarters with a demanding uptight woman does not give you
much opportunity to develop alternatives. I had some first class
upgrade coupons, but at check-in time was told there was only
one seat available. Anne immediately volunteered because of her
"potential for a bad back," and was seated in 3A. The
boys and I were given 21K/L and 22L. This was aisle and window
seating in the 2-5-2 configuration, and the last two rows in
the second section. I took the single seat, and let Ralph and
Trevor sit together for the first ten-hour segment of the flight.
An attractive woman dressed in a loose sweater and very tight
blue jeans took the seat next to me. I could see that Ralph was
uncomfortable and maybe even a little jealous, since he kept
turning around to talk to me, but she was too old (29) to be
interested in him. She introduced herself as Christine, "You
can call me Chrissy." She was about five foot eight, light
brown (almost blond) long hair, a nice ass - firm and high, breasts
with an impact even through her shapeless sweater, and obviously
in good physical condition. Chrissy was headed for Miami to pick
up her belongings from a recent divorce; she and her husband
had been working together on private yachts for eight years,
and he had developed a cocaine habit. When he would not seek
help to end his drug addiction, and more immediately after a
close call with customs in Australia last year, she decided then
and there to split from him, filed for divorce, stayed in Brisbane,
and had just been notified the divorce was final. In the meantime,
she had met another guy she wanted to stay with, and was going
to Miami to settle up the property and return to her new lover.
This I discovered during dinner conversation and over a few shared
glasses of wine. Looking into my eyes, she confided she was "now
free and ready for some excitement." The movie started,
the flight attendants went around the cabin to lower all the
shades, and Chrissy said, "I'd rather talk, if it's OK with
you; this movie is terrible." I had also seen the movie
and agreed. We spent the next two hours getting to know each
other better. Chrissy at one point said, "You have terrific
eyes, I get really turned on by eyes." We talked about the
kids, and when she asked if I was married and learned about Anne
in the front cabin, she thought it displayed selfish behavior
and then never mentioned my marital status again. By now, the
boys had fallen asleep, and just before the end of the movie,
Chrissy excused herself for a few minutes, reached into the overhead
bin for her carry-on (stretched long enough to get my mind focused
on her hips and legs in those wonderful tight jeans,) and headed
to the lavatory in the back. When she returned, she was wearing
loose-fitting sweatpants, and when she asked if I minded if she
lifted the arm dividing the seats, I replied "Of course
not!" By now I had an idea of what she had in mind, because
she had confided during the movie that one of her greatest turn-ons
was the risk of discovery while having sex. "My husband
was not a great lover, but in the close confines of the boat
it was always exciting to fuck without anyone nearby knowing
about it; I had more orgasms from fucking near other people than
from the sex act itself." As she shared this with me, she
was already visibly breathing more quickly. Chrissy and I arranged
the blankets over both of us, now no longer separated, and curled
up like spoons in the otherwise crowded seats. I started to give
her a back rub, slowly working over her muscles by now cramped
from the first five hours of the flight. She purred quietly,
and after a while squirmed her shapely ass on the seat, pushing
it back into my growing erection. With both hands I reached around
under her loose sweater, and fondled her globes, her nipples
growing firmer under my gentle stroking. Chrissy reached back
and with one hand released my belt, then unbuckled and unbuttoned
my pants. I whispered in her ear, "How do you do that? I
can't even do that with one hand, and they're my pants."
She laughed, and said, "Years of practice; don't worry,
it gets better." My hard-on sprang out of my tight bikini
briefs as she pulled the waistband forward, and she whispered,
"I'm glad you're not wearing boxer shorts, I can't stand
them." Chrissy began to stroke my cock, now slightly oozing
with its own lubrication. She used the pre-come to help rotate
her fingers gently around the head, stroking it with ever firmer
pressure. I withdrew my hands from under her sweater to push
my pants down further, allowing me to slip the briefs down below
my swollen balls, which she now explored with her questing hand.
Lubricating her fingers even more with her saliva, she alternately
rubbed my balls and massaged the head of my dick. My hands were
now free, and I hungrily reached forward for her erect nipples,
shortly afterward sliding my right hand down her belly and slipping
it under the waistband of her sweatpants. She was wearing no
panties underneath, and the inside of the cotton sweats was already
wet with her juices. As I stroked her mound, her lubrication
welcomed my fingers into her warm wet cunt. Rubbing the juices
on my fingers, I began to circle her clitoris and then used my
fingers to stroke in and out of her pussy while my thumb pushed
against her swollen clit. She was breathing harder now, and could
not stop moving her ass around on the seat, first bucking her
soaking cunt against my right hand, then pushing her ass back
against my cock through the sweatpants. Just then, the stewardess
came down the aisle, paused noticeably as she came up to our
row, glared at me (me? why me? there are two of us here, you
know!), almost said something, then apparently decided that since
we were bothering nobody else, she would keep moving. Thank God!
While we were both close to fully clothed at that time, there
was little chance she could do anything legally disastrous, but
who needs the embarrassment, or the hassle from the kids for
that matter. As the stewardess left, Chrissy whispered. "She
knows exactly what we are doing, and she's jealous! Now I want
to have your prick inside me. I'll keep quiet, but I need you
to fuck me now." With this, she lifted her ass off the seat
and slid her sweats down below her knees, then separated her
legs slightly and moved back so I could slide into her dripping
pussy from behind. I moved slowly in and out as she purred and
pushed back onto my cock quietly so we would not wake our neighbors.
At the same time, I reached back around to stroke her clitoris
easily but steadily. The appearance of the stewardess had startled
me, and most of the urgency for release that had built up from
her stroking my hard-on had subsided, so it was a nice, long,
easy fuck, punctuated by her spasming in orgasm three times before
my cock pressure built up to the point of no return. I came with
the most excruciating pleasure I had felt in my life (actually
for the last month, but you know how easy it is to lose perspective
at the moment.) I felt like I unleashed at least a pint of come
into her already dripping cunt. I sighed, and whispered' "Chrissy,
it must have been heaven that sent you to this seat. You don't
know how much I needed that." She then turned around in
the seat to sit normally, and kissed me for the first time. "I
needed it just as much as you did; you're a terrific fuck, but
on top of that it's the danger that makes me come so much. Thanks
for being here, I dreamed that I'd be fucked silly on this trip.
As we kissed, I told her about my favorite turn-on. "What
I like best is eating pussy, but there is no room here for that.
Would you like to go to the back of the plane with me?"
"What do you mean? In the lavatory?" she asked. "Yes.
If we are reasonably cautious we can get in there without causing
an uproar," I replied. "I've never done that before,"
Chrissy explained. "There's a first time for everything,"
I said, and moved to pull up my pants and buckle my belt. She
thought about it for a minute, and then said, "why not,
let's try it!" She drew up the sweatpants and tied the drawstring
(I hadn't noticed there was one before - must not have been tied.)
Then she got up and headed for the back of the plane, with me
following directly behind. She entered the first lavatory, which
was vacant (good thing the flight was long, and everybody was
still asleep.) I slipped right in behind her before the flight
attendants noticed we were even there. As I closed the door,
she turned and we started to kiss passionately. She broke for
a quick query, "how do you do anything in this little space?"
As I untied the drawstring on her sweatpants, I said, "Just
lift up and sit on the sink, and let me taste your cunt."
Chrissy lifted, spread her legs, and I could see her cunt lips
were still swollen from her last orgasm. I gently tongued her
outer lips, occasionally swiveling my head to nip the insides
of her thighs, but always returning to circle her clit, and as
it swelled up, suck on it gently. There was no end to the wetness;
her own lubrication, supplemented by the enormous load of come
I had left in her pussy, dripped down both sides of my chin onto
the stainless steel sink surface and trailed down her thighs.
After tonguing her into a few more orgasms, I realized how hard
I was getting again, and finally stood up, sliding her ass slightly
off the surface, and drove my cock into her again while we exchanged
extremely wet but tasty kisses, flavored by both of our juices.
Such a short time after the last fuck, and she was sooo wet;
this time it lasted at least twenty minutes, both of us sighing
and savoring the overwhelming sensations coursing through our
bodies. Finally, after a slow buildup that I never wanted to
end, I came again, not as much this time, but she sensed it and
started bucking hard just at the same moment. The pleasure was
so intense it was almost painful. The light came on to return
to the cabin, and after a few minutes we were able to adjust
ourselves to some degree of presentability to return to our seats.
Just as we opened the door, the same stewardess was looking right
into my eyes. She said angrily, "Please return to your seats
and stay there. We have some turbulence and the captain has turned
on the seat belt sign." I couldn't help but think that maybe
we were the cause of the turbulence, but then that's just my
imagination running away with me again. As we settled in to the
seats, Chrissy pushed the seat divider down, saying, "I
think everyone is waking up, let's not embarrass your boys."
The breakfast service was beginning, the cabin lights were turned
on, and we were again two strangers who happened to be sitting
next to each other on the plane. The secret of our mile-high
lovemaking was secure. We exchanged addresses, but with her in
Brisbane and me in Boston it's not likely we'll ever meet again.
Both of us promised to use caution in contacting each other should
the opportunity arise, so our current SO would not be disturbed,
but also promised to get together if possible again. I said goodbye
to Chrissy at the seat, and went forward with the unsuspecting
boys to deplane. As we got to the end of the ramp in the terminal,
I asked Anne, "How was your flight?" "Great,"
she replied, "one of the most relaxing ever." "Me
too!"
Just as an aside from your
humble editor, if you manage to join the Mile High Club, you
can get a little Mile High Club pin from "Sporty's Pilot
Shop." Call 1-800-LIFTOFF.
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