Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/A/AIRFLING.TXT

Text File | 1992-11-26 | 12.9 KB | 232 lines

airfling.txt

    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!"

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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.