A lady friend of mine once confessed at a dinner party an amusing event that happened to her on an aeroplane. She had been flying alone, economy class from London to San Francisco, and was sat next to a small, overweight, middle-aged man. The cabin lights were dimmed for that dubious time period when flight attendants arbitrarily decide it is bedtime (regardless of the fact it is daylight outside and only 2 o’clock in the afternoon), and she woke from a nap to find she was inexplicably masturbating the fat man sitting next to her.
She couldn’t recall whether she had initiated the activity in her u*********s state or if he had taken advantage of her sl**ping arm, but either way she shrieked in horror and let go immediately on realising what was going on. She told us that for the remainder of the journey the little man winked frequently at her, as though they shared a secret equally beautiful to them both.
This funny story lived with me for a long time and when travelling on an aeroplane, I would no longer fear the peculiar phenomenon of flying but rather, who I might start touching up if I closed my eyes for a few minutes during the flight.
And then something happened to me that wasn’t a million miles away from my friend’s aeroplane story. It’s an incident I still think about whenever I’m flying, and indeed one I daydream about quite regularly when I’m nowhere near a plane.
My work frequently takes me on long-distance trips overseas. Most of these flights have now disappeared from my memory as ‘lost time’ in that way certain events in our lives - like waiting for buses, walking the dog and filling in taxes - have a tendency to do. But one particular flight, from Vancouver to London, will be etched in my mind forever, with the same eternal brilliance that the sun has punched a hole in the sky.
I was 29 years old at the time, flying Economy on a fully-booked flight which left Vancouver around ten in the evening. I had checked in late and was unable to get my preferred seat on an aisle, finding myself in a window-seat instead, which had two other seats between the aisle and me. I found my space before the inhabitants of the two empty seats beside me had found theirs, and I anxiously surveyed the passengers flooding through the cabin, hoping upon hope that the most unpleasant looking ones – the overweight, the most unclean looking, the youngest k**s - were not going to be my immediate neighbours.
It wasn’t long before I discovered my seat-neighbours were to be an attractive looking mother and her extremely sexy teenage daughter. The daughter must have been around 18. She had long sun-streaked brown hair and the most beautiful brown eyes, thick with a naïve but devastating layer of mascara on the lower lids, and a few cute specks of make-up glitter on her cheeks. She wore a white vest top with what looked like a loose gym-bra underneath, and a pair of pale blue jeans that stopped at her calves. The nails of her toes, visible from a pair of straw sandals, were painted silver and chipped. She was chewing gum and intermittently created little pink candy-bubbles from her moist-looking lips. They would pop and burst before her tongue sucked them back in again.
As if I was not lucky enough to have this delicious babe as one of my neighbours for the 12-hour flight, to my delight she took the seat right next to me, her mother preferring to be seated on the aisle where she could stretch her legs. For once in my life, I thought, I’m ahead. I gave silent thanks to the God that tends to be remembered on those occasions when we want something or have just been given something we know we didn’t deserve. It was going to be a joy to be sat next to this gorgeous girl. We smiled a polite hello to one another as she sat down, and although she didn’t seem too bothered by mine, hers successfully melted my heart. I gathered from a conversation she held with her mother about where to find the cellophane-wrapped blanket beneath the seat, that the girl’s name was Laura. Ah… Laura, I thought to myself. The most beautiful of all women’s names. Although I had naturally never thought twice about the name before.
I had flown enough to know the importance of wearing comfortable, loose fitting clothing for a long flight, so I was dressed in a t-shirt and jogging pants. After twenty minutes or so of pre-flight rituals – reading the movie brochure in order to feel disappointed about what films are being shown, and ignoring the safety demonstration – the plane was up in the air. We were all being handed rolled up hot-towels by the flight attendants who served them to us with tongs from a silver tray. Everybody took one – people will take anything that is offered to them when it’s free – and I watched other passengers wondering, just like me, what the hell they should do with them.
The gorgeous teenager beside me was having a problem plugging in the flimsy headphones we had been given to access the in-flight “entertainment”. I came valiantly (but casually) to her rescue and showed her how to attach them to the power-point on the arm of her seat. She was warmly grateful and smiled a beautiful smile my way. I noticed she had the most divinely soft looking, sun-bronzed skin and the kind of sexy, pouting lips that rarely revealed her teeth, despite the fact she was continuing to chew gum like it was an Olympic sport she was in training for.
On her cheek she had a beauty spot which on anybody else would have simply been a mole. I noticed her slender-fingered hands had something illegible scrawled on the back in crude felt tip. This luscious brunette was blissfully unaware of the sexual allure that almost dripped from her. Her breasts were small – no more than a modest palmful each – but they suddenly struck me as the perfect size and form of any breasts, simply because they were attached to her. The proximity of her long bare arm to mine was painfully close as she fiddled with the radio stations on the arm of the seat.
A short while later the flight attendants announced that dinner would be served. It was gone 11.30pm and I doubt many passengers were hungry - most of them having probably eaten before the flight - but the plane was in the air and we were all f***ed to surrender to the benevolent dictatorship of in-flight planning, and eat an indigestible tray-meal nonetheless. The male flight attendant served a supper to Laura and her mother and then asked me if I wanted the “chicken” or the “fish”.
“Neither”, I replied politely. “Nothing for me”.
“Oh, but you must eat something”, the attendant insisted, looking worried, as though he were a robot about to malfunction at this strange request that fell outside his program.
“Really, I am ok”, I promised him.
“But there won’t be any more food until breakfast”, he went on, still trying to thrust a foil-covered tray in my direction.
“No, honestly”, I said, struggling to remain affable. When he had finally given up and moved his trolley on, I added under my breath: “Leave me alone!”.
It was loud enough for Laura to hear and she chuckled sympathetically, having just witnessed the exchange. It was a warm, sexy little laugh that made me feel a little closer to her.
Several hours passed and it became time for the flight attendants to dim the lights in the cabin and begin showing the in-flight movie. I had begun watching the film with my headphones on and Laura had done the same. After a while I had fallen asl**p; it must have been at least 4am by now. When I awoke I quickly remembered where I was and how uncomfortable I was, and noticed that Laura was looking down at my lap.
It’s a funny thing on a flight but when a guy falls asl**p during the hours he would usually be in bed, his body tends to involuntarily respond the way it does if he were asl**p at home. I realised quickly that what Laura was staring at was the crotch of my jogging pants where there was a prominent tent sticking up. I had a full-scale, fully-charged up erection that was so blatantly apparent, it looked obscene. As casually as I could, I opened the blanket up that was at my side and spread it over my body, pulling it up to my neck from underneath, like it was a duvet. Laura caught my eye and grinned at me. It was a knowing grin. I grinned back with a more innocent, embarrassed one and closed my eyes again, probably a little red-faced.
The next thing I knew Laura appeared to check that her mother was asl**p and then discreetly slid her right arm under the side of my blanket. I opened my eyes sharply and looked straight at her. She looked right back with the sexiest mix of excitement and wonder on her face. We continued to keep our eyes fixed on one another for most of what followed.
I felt Laura’s arm under my blanket slide down my chest and locate the bulge on the outside of my jogging pants. I was still as hard as a javelin and a delicious grin crossed her face when she discovered the fact. I think my expression must have been an interesting combination of fear and arousal. I made no attempt to prevent or assist the delicious assault but inside I was thanking God again and promising to be good in future if the m*****ation would only continue.
Laura’s hand pressed down on my erection and she rubbed it a couple of times through the cotton of my jogging pants. I then felt her fingers fumble to loosen the string-tie around the waist. It took her a while but suddenly my trousers felt looser. I puffed out the blanket a bit more in the area around my lap to hide the appearance of any motion down there and I felt Laura’s fingers meet my skin as she slid her hand beneath the waistband. Still looking intently in my eyes, she took hold off my naked erection and began to very slowly move the foreskin up and down. I couldn’t believe I was here. On a crowded aeroplane at 30,000 feet, being wanked by a teenage stranger while her mother slept in the seat next to her. .
After twenty seconds or so, she stopped and pulled her hand out from my trousers. The disappointment must have been stark in my eyes because she immediately smiled again, and this time provocatively raised one of her dark eyebrows. She reached down for her own blanket and pulled it up over her body until, like mine, it was concealing her lap and torso like a thin duvet. I’m not the fastest bloke at the best of times but I cottoned on pretty quickly to what she was inviting me to do, and I slid my right arm across from under my own blanket until it found the edge of hers. She turned her body more sideways to face me and stared again with the most beautiful look of concentration.
My hand found its way to her vest and I began to run my fingers along the thin material. I could feel the warmth of her skin beneath. Her lips parted and although no sound came out, I sensed her breath was now coming deeper and faster. She had the first sign of trepidation in her eyes which joined the look of excitement and wonder that remained there. I ran my hand in a straight line up the centre of her vest until it found her bare shoulder blades and I trailed my fingers across her breasts. They were spongy and soft but nonetheless felt heavenly. I grew more confident and gave each a squeeze before finding the entrance to her bra strap, and sliding my hand inside. It was a tight fit but I was able to take one of them in my palm. The nipple was smooth and warm.
After exploring the flesh of her breasts in this way, I let my hand stray down to the waist of her jeans. I found the skin of her hot, flat stomach and caressed it a few times. With each motion of my hand I allowed my fingertips to stray a little farther under the waistband until they were brushing the top edge of her underwear. Her eyes acquired a look of fierce concentration as though powered by an electric current being generated by my touch.
I unpopped the top button of her jeans and caressed down her abdomen again. This time my fingers were able to reach the first inch or so of her pants. I unpopped a second button and now I could feel delicate curls of hair from under the soft material. One more pop and I was able to reach right in and feel the flesh of her thighs where they met her panties. It was so soft it felt like skin that had never been touched before. Letting my stroking fingers come to rest between her legs, I felt that the crotch of the pants was very faintly damp. Still keeping my eyes fixed on hers, I carefully peeled back the gusset of her pants from the top of her thighs and let two fingers come into gentle contact with the damp entrance to her pussy. It felt as warm and wet as the inside of a mouth. She gasped the cutest little gasp and looked at me adoringly, as though she would be at my mercy forever. I think at that moment I may have fallen in love. Holding the crotch of her pants away with my thumb, I rubbed my fingers back and forth over her slippery pussy lips, feeling them grow wetter by the second.
Laura responded by sliding her own hand back under my blanket and into my trousers, taking hold again of my erection. She began to wank me once more, her hand mirroring the rhythm of my own against her wet little pussy. Continuing to gaze transfixed at one another in the dim light of the cabin, we slowly and carefully masturbated one another with the same delicacy and concentration of federal agents diffusing an explosive device.
Laura was so wet down there that I was able to insert my forefinger quite deep into her pussy, while continuing to rub her clitoris with the palm of my hand. I could feel her whole body held rigid and still, as though the slightest fluctuation in her position might halt the pleasure that was steadily building. To make matters more sexy I realised she was still chewing gum.
Meanwhile Laura was returning the favour by massaging my erection up and down, allowing it and her hand to get slipperier with all the juice I was involuntarily providing. It cannot have been long when I sensed I was about to have an almighty orgasm. In fact so impendingly almighty did it feel, I wondered if it might be going to cause a mild turbulence to the aircraft. I think my face must have signalled what was about to happen because Laura’s eyes grew wide, and she grinned with pride and naughty anticipation.
The next moment her mother suddenly sat up on the seat beside her. I pulled my arm away from Laura’s crotch sharply.
“Are you alright?”, her mother asked softly, noticing her daughter was turned away. She placed her hand gently on Laura’s shoulder.
Laura’s wanking-arm froze, as did my previously bucking hips. She turned to her mother, a picture of innocence, as I felt my cock twitch and began to unload jet after jet of warm spunk over her hand (which was still tightly gripped around my shaft), and the inside of my jogging trousers. The pleasure was so intense I almost fainted, and yet fear prevented me from letting anything show in my face. My cock continued to spasm for what seemed like a blissful age, and I felt the whole area in my trousers get copiously rained upon by a veritable storm of my own goo.
“I’m fine, Mom”, said Laura in what could have been an Academy Award winning performance of ‘innocent-girl- wakes-on-a-plane’. She let her hand slip from the drenched confines of my jogging trousers and returned it carefully to the safety of her own blanket.
“I’m going to stretch my legs”, her mother said and folding up her seat-tray, handed a half-cup of water to Laura as she got up. Laura took the cup with her right hand and I felt sick when I spotted that her fingers were still coated in the residue of my sperm. Fortunately her mother didn’t seem to notice. Laura noticed however and once her mother had departed, she began to wipe her fingers on the paper of the vomit bag which she took from the seat in front. She smiled at me again and I smiled back, albeit a little embarrassed.
“I wish we weren’t on this plane”, she said to me dreamily after a while, raising that devastating eyebrow once more as she did so.
I fell in love with her again.
“Me too”, I said goofily, wincing inside at how much my reply sounded like bad Hollywood movie dialogue.
Realising what a mess I was in, I figured I ought to go to the lavatory to clean up. I stood up and discovered a damp lake was staining my trousers, so I wrapped the blanket around me like a Sarong and passing Laura’s seat, I headed off down the aisle.
On my way to the toilet, I passed Laura’s Mom coming back towards me. I saw her notice the blanket-‘skirt’ I was wearing and in my paranoia I ascribed unlikely thoughts to the woman: that she knew why I was concealing myself with the blanket and was well aware what I had been doing with her daughter.
There were eight toilet cubicles grouped together on opposite sides of a mini-hallway, halfway down the aisle. I put myself in one of the vacant compartments. It had one of those space-saving folding doors and I found it tricky locking it into place behind me. Once secure in the brightly lit little booth, I paused for a minute and released a long audible breath, able to register fully what had just happened now I was alone.
I unwrapped the blanket from my waist and surveyed the flood damage to my trousers, in the long mirror upon the wall. How the hell was I going to cover up a damp patch that size, I wondered. It looked like I had pissed myself. Twice.
Deciding to deal with the cause of the problem first, I pulled down my trousers and looked at myself in the mirror. My cock was flaccid but had that recently-serviced look of fat satisfaction about it. My pubic hair had been reduced to an afro of tangled sticky knots.
I used paper towels and an awkward manoeuvre over the hand basin to wash and pad myself dry. When I finally felt clean and comfortable again, I turned my attention back to the state of my trousers. Rubbing away at the damp stain with a paper towel as though I were sanding down a door, I made frustratingly scant progress and decided to simply leave the stain until it had dried, and deal with any mark that might be left on the outside later. I took a piss, tried to make my hair look less unkempt in the mirror (which is a pretty tough call on an aeroplane) and wrapped the blanket back around my waist, exiting the cubicle.
The moment I emerged from the folding door, I saw Laura waiting in the aisle by the little hallway of toilets. It struck me all over again how beautiful she was. I assumed she had been waiting for a toilet to become vacant but before I knew what was happening, she was pushing me back into the toilet cubicle and quickly following after me.
It was even more cramped inside when we were in, and Laura had as much trouble as I had done trying to lock the door behind us. Once the lock was in place she leaned in to me, pressing my back to the rear wall of the cubicle, the toilet bowl positioned between my parted legs, and she began to kiss me passionately. It was a deliciously naïve kiss – all tongues and no subtlety – but it was terrifically erotic. Her lips were warm and wet and she still had a ball of pink gum in her mouth that made her kiss taste like artificial strawberry-flavouring. I instinctively ran my hands through her hair and down her back as we slobbered on each other.
Next thing I knew, Laura was kissing her way down my t-shirt until she reached my ‘skirt’ which she unwrapped and whipped away, like she was removing a tablecloth without disturbing the contents of a table. Peeling back my jogging bottoms, she pulled them down over my stiff cock which had proudly prepared for battle again, and leaning over, she took the head into her mouth in one go, and started sucking me off.
Looking down at her purple-glittered cheeks and tanned skin as my erection slipped between her lips, all glistening and stiff, was a sight indeed. Better still, when I looked to my right into the long mirror, I could see my body awkwardly reclined against the wall, Laura bent over, and my cock sticking up in the air like a microphone while she slurped up and down on it. At one point she removed it from between her lips with a blob of pink bubble-gum stuck to the end. She giggled when she realised and swallowed my erection again, removing the gum with her lips and tongue.
After a sublime few further moments of sucking, she broke off and came up to kiss me again, her hand still hanging on to my penis. I could taste myself on her tongue as we kissed. I decided I wanted to see some more of the beautiful girl’s flesh. Switching places with her, I positioned her back to the wall and stuck my hands up her top to play again with her adorable little tits. She let me pull her vest and bra-top up until they were exposing her breasts and stomach and I clamped my mouth around her soft nipples, sucking on each until it became a thimble in my mouth. She was breathing heavily and still fumbling with my cock.
Leaving her top riding above her tits, I licked down her sun-kissed stomach until I reached her pale blue jeans. They contrasted with the colour of her flesh like sea against dark sand. Unpopping the buttons one by one, I kissed south until I reached the whitest pair of girlie little knickers. She shuffled her bottom out of her jeans, allowing me to pull them down to her ankles and display the tiny pair of panties in their full glory. The words “sexy girl” were printed on the front in a retro-seventies font. I had a delicious view in the mirror of her tits, stomach and tanned thighs in the mirror, which made the white of her pants look striking. She was quite possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever had the privilege of undressing.
I kissed along her thighs and up around the waistband of her underwear before carefully peeling it down to reveal a dainty little strip of jet black fuzz and the plump lips of my stranger’s cunt. They were pink and swollen and soaking wet. I lowered her pants to meet the jeans at her feet and saw a pool of moisture that had dribbled on to the inside of the gusset.
I buried my face in her pussy and tasted the sticky honey that was oozing from her lips. Sliding my tongue inside, I lapped away at her with the hunger of a man who has not eaten for days (the flight attendant, had he been there, would have reminded me I should have eaten supper). Laura gripped my hair with her hands and pushed my face into her, parting her thighs as wide as she could, to allow me closer access. I paused for a moment and spun her around so that her pert little ass was in my face. The flesh of her buttocks was so tight and clean looking, like untrodden sand in a desert. I separated her ass cheeks with my fingers and dipped my face into her pussy again, slobbering for dear life all over her cunt.
I could see she was watching the whole scene in the mirror and getting off on the view as much as she was the sensation. And quite a view it was too; Laura’s top still riding up over her perky little tits and her ass sticking in my face. I had to crouch further down in order to get unhindered access to her, which was awkward with my own trousers around my ankles and my erection still jutting out like the telescope on a submarine. It was worth it however, for in my new position I was able to tongue-fuck the young beauty with all the passion and fervour I could muster.
As I kissed the backs of Laura’s sensational thighs, Laura began to return to the concentrated state of arousal she had been feeling before. My erection returned to its full boast and I carefully stood with its tip tantalisingly poised at the entrance of Laura’s slippery pink pussy. Easing it gently inside, she let out a short, indescribable noise. Once I had slid the whole thing in, I went up on to my toes and started to rock my hips back and forth, pulling in and out of the tight, wet space. The scene looked filthy in the mirror: a big cock plunging back and forth into the little space between the cheeks of a beautiful teenager’s ass.
Laura was trying quite frantically to grip on to something as the doggy-fucking became more intense, but being an aeroplane, everything was secured tightly to the wall, with no sharp edges or angles to hang on to. So instead, she simply pressed her hands into the wall, pushing the weight of her upper body forward to grind her pussy against my cock as I fucked her. Within a few moments she was whimpering and whispering something under her breath. All of a sudden she began to yelp, reaching her hand up to stifle the involuntary sounds escaping from her mouth as she reached a violent orgasm. Her body was shuddering and jerking wildly against my cock, jolting in delicious spasms as the feeling overwhelmed her.
I could hold back no longer and whipped my penis out of her cunt, fucking up against the oily cleavage of her ass-cheeks until a first string of thick, white sperm shot from the end and sprayed up her back. A second jet rocketed across her bottom, while a third flew so high and so quickly I had no time to see where it went. Pulling back from her body, I wanked my ejaculating cock and let a fourth and fifth spurt splash against the exposed lips of her juicy young pussy. The pleasure was so overwhelming that I fell against her and we each stayed there, motionless and exhausted for a second, pressed against the wall. Shortly afterwards I began to softly kiss her neck and her hair, which smelt of sex and sweet shampoo.
We started to clean up, thrlled at the dangerous pleasure of it all. “We better not leave together”, Laura said sensibly. I agreed and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was a valedictory kiss; part thank-you, part farewell.
I cautiously left the cubicle. Making my way down the aisle I passed the rows of passengers on the way back to my seat. Laura’s mother stood up to allow me to get in. I noticed her eyes were fixed curiously on the neck of my t-shirt and instinctively looked down to see what had caught her attention. To my horror, I saw a thick globule of sperm hanging down from the neckline, like sap dripping from a leaf. We both looked at it, Laura’s mother and I, and then looked at one another, each pretending we were unaware of what the other could clearly see. I squeezed past to take my seat and, when she had turned away, quickly mopped the spunk off my t-shirt with the blanket. Laura returned a few minutes later and the two of us became ‘strangers’ again.
An hour or so later it was declared ‘morning’ by the cabin crew – even though it was now finally dark outside and only 4am. The shutters were opened; the lights in the cabin switched back on and my favourite flight attendant came around with breakfast. Laura and I tried hard not to look at one another, but I could tell that like me, she had tears of laughter in her eyes.