3 comments/ 24814 views/ 3 favorites Fear of Flying? By: kimbelina "You haven't forgotten your promise, have you, Hailey?" My best friend Jessica grinned at me as I turned to look at her, playfully flipping her off as I did. "Ooh, somebody's cranky!" "Well, what is it, 5am? And we were up until what, 2am? Yeah, I guess I'm a little cranky. Plus my friend keeps reminding me what I agreed to last night." "Oh, well, forget it. With your luck, it'll probably be some little old lady." We both giggled, and started picking up our bags as we heard over the airport PA system that our flight was ready to board. Sorry, let me give you a little background. Jessica and I had been best friends since we were little kids, and most recently, had been college roomates. That is, until yesterday, when we'd walked across that stage to collect our diplomas. Today, we were off on a trip my grandparents had surprised me with as a graduation present - an all-expenses-paid week in Hawaii. It had been a whirlwind afternoon and night, packing, making arrangements to go away on such short notice. And then there was our sudden realization of the fact that neither of us had ever been on a plane. A few glasses of wine later, Jessica was fine with that, but I was still nervous. Maybe that's what happened when you'd never been on a plane and you'd watched the movie 'Airplane' a few too many times. Those jokes were funny as long as you didn't have to actually, well, fly. That was when Jessica came up with a creative new method for overcoming a fear of flying. "How about this, Hailey. I've got an idea to get your mind off the flight. Promise me, if there's a hot guy seated next to us, you'll give him a blow job." "What? That's ridiculous! I could never do anything like that!" "Oh, really? I've seen you bring home a guy on the first date, how's this any different?" "Jeez, it was just the one time, am I never going to live that down?" Sometimes having a friend who knew everything about you could really come back to bite you. She laughed. "You have to admit, thought, it's gotten your mind off of flying, hasn't it?" "Yeah, really! OK, fine, I promise. If there's a hot guy seated next to us, I'll be all over him." So, that brings us back to that morning, working our way onto the plane, down the aisle past first class and into the zoo that was coach. I looked up at the seat numbers as I walked, slowly, stuck behind an extended family with little kids and older relatives to get seated before I could move on. Ah, finally, I thought to myself as I saw row 36 appear just ahead. Let's see, which direction was it, right or left? And that's when I saw him. In the window seat, 36A, just next to the empty seat which I soon realized was mine. His handsome face was the first thing I saw, chiseled features and tan skin with just a hint of travelers' stubble. I guessed he was in his early 40s, and quickly assumed from his finely-tailored suit and the laptop on the tray in front of him that he must be traveling on business. He looked up when he sensed my presence, smiled, and moved his jacket off my seat. I blushed as his deep blue eyes met mine, and sat down. Jessica snickered as she took her seat across the aisle from me. I looked past her to see - no joke - a little old lady seated next to her. Some luck. "You sure you don't want to trade?" "Hell no, Hailey, I can't wait to see how this one turns out!" The hot guy had gone back to working on his laptop, and did so without looking back at me until the plane finally got ready for take-off and the pilot gave instructions for people to turn off electronic devices. At about the same time, any thought of my naughty promise to Jessica had left me, and I was back to worrying about plummeting from the sky. My neighbor must have sensed my tension, as I felt his hand on my arm and heard his voice for the first time, "Hey, are you alright?" "Hmm? Oh, um, yeah. Just my first time flying, that's all." "Well, don't worry. I fly all the time, and it really is true what they say, that you're safer in an airplane than on the highway. My name's Jeremy, by the way." He reached out his hand, and as I shook it, I noticed that my hands were cold and my knuckles were white from clutching the seat. Yikes, I really did need to find a way to relax. "I'm Hailey. And over there," I said, pointing across the aisle, "is my best friend Jessica." "Nice to meet you, Hailey. So, what brings you and Jessica to Hawaii?" The story spilled out of me - from graduation, to my grandparents, to how long I'd known Jessica and what good friends we were, to what my major was, to why it was that I'd never flown before. By the time I stopped talking, I realized that we were in the air, levelled off, and cruising comfortably. "Wow, Hailey, that's a bundle of nerves you brought with you this morning. Are you feeling more relaxed now?" "Yes. Um, thanks for listening! Sorry, I should let you get back to work." I knew I'd take shit from Jessica, but I just didn't have the nerve to go through with it. I certainly wasn't a prude, but I also wasn't the type to proposition complete strangers. "Oh, don't be silly. I'd much rather get to know you better. I'm usually seated next to some little old lady on these flights. Or even worse, a businessman like myself. You're a breath of fresh air!" I blushed again. I glanced over at Jessica, and though she was pretending to read her book, I saw a smile form on her face and could immediately tell that she was listening to our whole conversation. "Here, Hailey," Jeremy said, getting my attention back, "take a look out the window, it really is quite a view from up here." I leaned over him to look out the window, but quickly jumped back at the view, my fear of flying momentarily coming back. But he gently grabbed my shoulder, encouraging me to give it another try, and pointed out specific things for me to look at, until I relaxed again and realized it really was pretty cool to look down from this altitude. "Would you excuse me for a second, Jeremy?" "Certainly." I stood up, motioned to Jessica for her to follow me, and walked towards the back of the plane, pretending to head to the bathroom. "I can't do this," I whispered once we were out of his earshot. "I knew it, chicken! Come on, this is supposed to be a trip just for us to celebrate - why don't you live a little!" "But he's, like, a really nice guy. He's actually the kind of guy I'd want to get involved with, if he weren't, you know, twice my age." "Why can't you just admit you're chicken? I knew you wouldn't be able to do it." How was it that Jessica always knew what button to push, without me even knowing she was pushing it? "Oh, really? That's what you think? Just watch me." We walked back to our seats, and I flashed Jessica a determined look before turning back towards Jeremy. "So, sorry again to talk your ear off before. But it really did help me relax. Thanks for being willing to listen." "Hailey, it was completely my pleasure. You have a lovely voice, even if you were babbling just a bit." He winked, and I knew this was my opportunity. "You up for another story?" "Sure..." "Well, you'll have to tell me how this one is going to end. See, now that I've managed to get on a plane, there's something else I'd like to see if I can do as well." "Oh, really? What's that?" I leaned in closer to him and whispered in his ear, "I told myself that if I happened to be seated next to a hot guy on this flight, that I'd seduce him and give him a blow job." Trembling with excitement, I leaned back into my seat, awaiting his reaction. He put his hand on mine, and whispered in my ear this time, "I think that can be arranged. Listen carefully." He proceeded to give me detailed instructions, about how I should get out of my seat as nonchalantly as possible, walk around to the bathroom on the other aisle, close and lock the door, and wait for two minutes, after which time he would join me. I was only to open the door when I heard a specific knock, which he demonstrated by tapping on my arm. While waiting for him, I was to strip down to my bra and panties. I tried to borrow some of Jeremy's calm demeanor as I followed his instructions. I walked, as slowly as my racing pulse would let me, to the bathroom, closed and locked the door, and quickly stripped. I didn't know until that moment, when I was surprised to see myself in reflection, that airplane bathrooms had mirrors. I admired my body for a moment, 5'7" of tan, fit, 22-year-old hottie, with long wavy blonde hair and big blue eyes. I realized how lucky it was that I'd chosen a sexy, matching red bra and panty set, when it would have been just as easy not to as I rushed to get dressed that morning. This thought was interrupted by the knock I was waiting for. I opened the door just a crack at first, to make sure it really was him, before letting him join me in the tiny space. No more words or foreplay were required, as I dropped to my knees in front of him. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his slacks, and let them fall to the floor before sitting down on the covered toilet seat and spreading his legs. I began stroking his shaft with one hand and playing with his balls with the other, and he quickly grew hard in my hands. He reached down and gently weaved his fingers through my hair, forming it into a ponytail, and slowly pressed me down onto his cock, keeping my lips just on the tip for a few moments, before pushing more and more of his length into my mouth. We found a rhythm and kept it up for a few minutes, Jeremy tugging at my hair to control my speed up and down, up and down, on his long, hard, cock. Just about the time I would have expected some of my old boyfriends to shoot their load, he pulled out of my mouth, and whispered for me to suck on his balls. I eagerly did so, using both hands and mouth to play with him as he reached down and squeezed my tits. He held his cock back against his torso and hissed at me to look up at him with my big blue eyes as I sucked and licked and fondled. After a few more minutes of this focused attention on his balls, he once again forced himself deep into my throat, holding me down for what seemed like an eternity before letting me up for air. "Good girl," he whispered, "Now, are you sure a blow job was all you had in mind for me?" "Um, well," I replied with a wink, "it sounds like maybe you have a proposal I should consider?" "I would really, really, like to fuck you. How does that sound?" "Oh, god, yes." "Are you wet?" "Unbelievably wet." "Stand up, I want to feel just how wet you are." I did as I was told, the blood rushing back to my lower legs as I stood up. He remained seated, and pushed my legs apart, his hands exploring my inner thighs for a few moments before reaching up to push aside my panties and feel my wetness. I arched my back in pleasure as his fingers found my clit, and then found their way inside my pussy. He finger-fucked me for a few minutes before suddenly pulling out of me and grabbing me by the hips to pull me down onto him. Perhaps sensing that I was about to cry out, he forced his fingers - covered in my own juices - into my mouth. I remained motionless for a little while, before allowing myself to begin riding him, slowly at first, then gradually with more abandon. Again amazed at his stamina, I was shocked when he pulled out of me just as most guys I'd been with would have been reaching their climax. "You should really turn around, Hailey," he whispered, "so that you can see what I'm seeing." I remembered the mirror, and eagerly did as he suggested. I stood up, turned around and once again straddled his legs so that I could lower myself onto him. The mirror wasn't long enough that I could see him penetrate me, but it was thrilling to watch myself as I rode him - even more so after he freed my tits from my bra and reached around me to pinch my nipples before once again freeing them to bounce as I moved up and down, up and down, up and down. It was then that I came - more powerfully than I ever had before - and once again had to rely on his big, strong hands over my mouth to keep from crying out and revealing to all the passengers in the rear of the plane that I was at the peak of my climax. After I came, I realized he still hadn't, and leaned back into him, whispering in his ear, "god, that was amazing. Tell me what I can do for you, anything..." "Just stand up, Hailey, I'll do the rest." I quickly stood up, and he followed, spooning me from behind in the tiny space. He forced my legs apart and thrust into me from behind. From this standing position, the mirror now provided a tantalizing view of my full torso and down to my upper thighs, so that I could watch him pound into me with each aggressive thrust. His eyes met mine in the mirror as he reached around and held me by the hips to better control his motions inside of me, and I was amazed to find that I was quickly approaching a second climax - yet again, something I'd never experienced before. I'd never found my own body so sexy as I did in this moment, crammed into an impossibly small and uncomfortable space and yet completely enthralled as I watched my tits bounce with each powerful thrust of his big cock deep into my tight, wet pussy. I reached down and shifted one of his hands to my clit, and he obliged, rubbing furiously as he began fucking me even harder and faster, clearly close to his own climax. I came almost immediately under this intense stimulation, my pussy clenching and throbbing around his cock and spurring him on as he finally jerked and shot his load deep inside of me. He continued pushing in and out, slower and more gently now, until we gradually eased down to nothing, before finally pulling out of me and helping us both to get dressed and presentable once again. We quickly decided that he would leave the bathroom first and return to his seat, and that I would follow a few minutes later. I can hardly describe the look that Jessica gave me when I finally settled back in my seat, but suffice it to say, she was thoroughly shocked, not only that I went through with it, but that we were gone for so long and looked so satisfied when we returned. "You were amazing, Hailey. I'm glad you seduced me," Jeremy said with a wink. I giggled. "You were pretty amazing yourself, Jeremy!" "So, where are you and Jessica staying on the island?" I pulled the paper showing our itinerary out of my bag. Jeremy smiled. "We might as well share a cab." "Really, are you close?" He paused before answering, "Same hotel, actually." "Wow." I turned to Jessica, and said, "it's going to be quite a week..." Fear of Flying Mary's daughter had been moody from the start of the holiday, making it obvious that she didn't want to be there. Neither did Jack want her there. Carol was a nineteen year old behaving like a nine year old, finding something to complain about at every opportunity. The taxi was late and she fretted that they would miss their flight, then was annoyed, rather than relieved, to find that the flight was delayed, and bemoaned the two hour wait. The airport was crowded because of the delays and she grumbled, her favourite perfume was out of stock in the shop and she sulked, she had been allocated a window seat and she refused to take it. Sitting by the window the view frightened her, sitting by the aisle she would be jostled by the people passing back and forth, and so she had to sit between her mother and Jack. "Comfy yet?" he asked, hinting that she might keep still, stop squirming in her seat, nudging him with her knee or poking him with her elbow. "There's not enough room," she complained. "I bet first class wouldn't be as cramped as this." Carol was a long leggy thing, seemed longer still in the brief shorts she wore, but Jack was in no mood for offering sympathy, said, "There are no first class seats on this flight. It's all one class." "There would have been if we'd gone to Florida, like I wanted to." "Well we're going to Portugal and you'll love it," said her mother. "Won't she, Jack?" He somehow doubted it, gave a noncommittal grunt. The aircraft began to back out from the terminal, turned to taxi towards the runway, and suddenly Carol was still. Jack looked at her, saw that her eyes were closed, her body tense, glanced beyond her to Mary who shook her head, put a finger to her lips to tell him to say nothing. So moody young Carol was frightened of flying? The aircraft turned at the end of the runway, paused there a moment, then the pilot opened up the throttle. As the engines screamed and the aircraft began to accelerate Jack felt Carol's hand clamp on his thigh, the fingers digging in harder the faster they went. He was about to prise her fingers free when the aircraft lifted and her grip relaxed a little. Let the flight level out and she would take her hand away, he thought. Only she didn't. Thirty minutes into the flight she seemed to be sleeping, she had turned a little in her seat, her head almost resting on his shoulder, her back to her mother to block her view. Her hand rested high on Jack's thigh now, and each time she shifted, or the aircraft shuddered, it would move against him, the back of her knuckles rubbing against his cock. Landing, Jack's cock wept as Carol gripped him firmly again, as if the pain of her manicured nails digging into him was a delight rather than a torture. But then she was back to her usual recalcitrant self when the aircraft came safely to a halt, wondering why on earth they needed an airport bus when the arrival terminal was only a hundred yards away across the tarmac. "It's safety procedure," Jack explained. "And we always play it safe?" she asked, baring her midriff as she reached up to retrieve her hand luggage from the overhead locker. He thought he caught a smile, but its meaning escaped him, and it was the last smile he saw from her for a while. Her mood noticeably darkened when he pointed their hire car away from the coast. "Where is this villa you've rented?" she demanded. "A little way up in the hills, about twenty miles inland," he told her. "So there's no beach?" "There's a swimming pool," her mother hurriedly told her. "And bars? Clubs?" The lack of a quick reply was answer enough and she was silent for the rest of the drive. * "Thanks for being patient with her," said Mary, embracing Jack as he set down the first of their cases in the villa's spacious lounge. "That's okay," he said grudgingly, and wrapped his arms around her. "And for saying nothing on the plane too," she added, kissing him. "She really is terrified of flying. I think it was a comfort for her to have you next to her. It's been so long since her Dad left, she misses having a man about the place." Jack returned her kiss, ran his hands down to her waist, pulling her close against him. "Mm Jack, you're hard! Is it the heat?" Mary asked him. "Could be," he said, slipping his tongue into her mouth, moving his groin against hers, his hands beginning to roam about her body. He could feel her nipples pricking against the cotton of her tee shirt, her breasts firm though she wore no bra, as firm as her daughter's despite her years. "But that will have to wait until after," said Mary, finally breaking the kiss. "Not in front of the children?" he supposed glumly. "I'll make it up to you later," she promised, taking a step back from him as she heard her daughter's footsteps, flip-flops slapping the tiled floor. "There's no water! Now what are we supposed to do?" Carol demanded, coming through from the kitchen brandishing a sheet of paper. "See! The cisterna -whatever the hell that is!- is empty, can't be filled until tomorrow." "The cisterna is the tank that holds the water, the supply is diverted to each part of the hillside in turn," Jack explained patiently. "Tomorrow we'll have gallons enough in there to last the whole holiday." "And in the meantime?" Carol asked, arms folded, foot tapping. She might have become the teacher her mother was, except that Mary would never permit herself to look so cross. "So? What do we do until then?" "Get bottled water," her mother suggested. "There'll be a store in the village." "No need for that," Jack told them. "There's a natural spring above us, pure mineral water straight from the source. People come from miles around to fill up from it." "Fancy a walk?" Mary asked her daughter. "Do I hell!" said Carol, flouncing off. Jack shrugged, Mary gave a sad smile, and together they unloaded the rest of the cases from the car. Then, swapping jeans for shorts and shoes for sandals, they found plastic containers in the kitchen and set off for the spring. There was music coming from the poolside and they assumed that Carol was content enough to do her own thing. Most probably sulk, thought Jack, but said nothing. At the rear of the villa the land quickly began to climb, and though the trail they followed took them through fragrant orange groves they were afforded little shade from the afternoon sun. "One good thing," said Jack, wiping the sweat from his brow. "We'll probably be the only ones daft enough to be trekking up here at this time of the day." "Mad dogs and Englishmen, eh?" Mary smiled, plucking damp cotton from her breasts, fanning the tee shirt at her waist to let in a little air. As they rounded the hill, still some way from its summit, they saw the village nestling before them, the road down to the coast winding its way through the bleached white buildings. It was maybe a mile, a mile and a half away, but the spring was closer, only a little further along and off the track to their right. "This is it?" said Mary, looking at the grey-green trough of rough stone, the plinth-like structure behind it from which there protruded plain brass taps. "I was expecting something more Alpine." "Wrong part of Europe," Jack grinned, and she gave him a dig in the ribs. "You know what I mean! A spring! Clear water bubbling over a rocky bed." "Which is what this is, until it reaches here and they tap it," Jack told her, and turned one of the taps, cupped his hands beneath it. "Here, try." Her hands keeping her hair out of the way, Mary bent to lap the water from his hands. It was cold, sweet, as refreshing as anything that might have come from a refrigerated bottle. She ducked her face beneath the tap, slurped at the stream until her teeth ached. "Mm! That's so good!" she said, straightening, drying her mouth across the back of her hand. "Mm!" Jack echoed, not drinking himself, just watching her as he filled the two containers from another tap, and she followed his downward gaze. What had been a damp tee shirt was now drenched at the front and clinging slickly to her breasts, perfectly moulded to her nipples. She ran her fingertips lightly over them, then grinned at Jack, peeled the tee shirt from her belly and slipped a hand into the top of her shorts. "Do you want me, Jack?" she asked softly. "Oh God do I want you!" he said, standing there like a weightlifter, a canister of water hanging from each arm. Mary looked to the left and the right. The track was empty in both directions, the nearest habitation on the edge of the village, nearly a mile away, but still it was a risk; there might be other mad dogs or English tourists out and about. How exciting! "Is your cock hard for me, Jack?" she asked. "You know damn well it is!" "Then come," she invited him, her finger beckoning him to follow as she backed away, up a slight grassy slope to the shade of a eucalyptus tree. As Jack followed, still carrying the canisters of water, she sat down at the foot of the tree and slowly pulled her tee shirt over her head. "Is your cock hot for me, Jack?" she now asked, pressing the wet tee shirt against her breasts as if to cool them. "Hot enough to scorch your cunt," he promised, and she gave a dirty laugh, patted the ground beside her. Jack set the canisters of water down, began to sit, but then felt her fingers at the elasticised waist of his shorts, quickly yanking them down. "Mary!" he said, knees bending, hands grabbing at hers to stop her. "Jack?" she grinned. "We can't do anything about your hot cock with your shorts on. Now don't be a baby and pull them down." "But if someone should come?" "Then I'll cover you, they won't see a thing," Mary promised. Jack let his shorts slip to his ankles only as his buttocks touched the ground, and he sat almost primly, knees raised, thighs together, his shirt just long enough to cover his lap, to disguise the fact that his groin was naked. "Silly man!" Mary laughed, leaning into him and wrapping an arm around his neck, kissing the line of his jaw, teeth nipping his ear as her other hand insinuated itself between his thighs. "Let me feel, dear," she insisted, probing deeper. "Let me feel how much you need this. And I do know you need this." It was no longer the heat of the Portuguese sun which had Jack sweating now, nor the exertion of the climb which had him weak and short of breath, and slowly his body slumped in Mary's embrace, his thighs parted for her like the petals of a flower which had caught the first rays of the sun. "Oh my, but you are hot!" she exclaimed softly, as her fingers closed on his cock. "So hot you might be about to spontaneously combust or prematurely ejaculate." Jack thought he might well do the latter; he trembled in her embrace, shivered at her touch as if the heat had brought on a fever. But then she quickly took her hand away, and he opened his eyes to see her pressing her wet tee shirt around his cock, felt the still cold dampness calm his tumescence. She held the damp material hard against him, like a bandage, like a poultice, as if there was a poison inside him that needed to be drawn out. There was a teasing laughter in her eyes as she searched his face for a reaction, a quizzical look as if she dared him to understand her intentions. "What are you doing to me Mary?" he asked. "Taunting you, Jack," she answered, the laughter still in her eyes, the smile still on her lips. "Though perhaps that is cruel of me. After the way you were with Carol, during the flight, I think maybe you deserve your reward. Or do I mean punishment?" "Eh?" he asked, confused as he felt Mary's hand on his cock again. "Reward for being nice to my daughter," she said, stroking him again before his erection could fully die. "Or punishment for pandering to her. Which should it be?" He wondered what Mary meant, might have been about to ask, but then felt the pad of her thumb brush the tip of his cock to bring him erect again. All he could do was gasp. She had him as hard as he had ever been. "This is thirsty work," Mary remarked, leaning across him to one of the canisters of water, her breasts smothering his face as she strained for it. She fumbled the cap off, tilted the neck to take a mouthful of cool spring water, still stroking him as she said, "I need to quench my thirst before I quench anything else." When she sat back, taking her breasts from his face, Jack was close to coming again. There was no smile for him this time though, her mouth was too full of the cold water to permit any as she bowed her head over his cock and let it wash over him as she took him into her mouth. "Too chilled to come now?" she asked, after she had taken him as deep as she could, then sucked along his length and licked at the tip, letting water spill all over his groin. "Then maybe this time," she said, before he could answer, plunging down on him a second time. And now there was no teasing, just the gentle caress of her mouth on his cock bringing back the warmth, taking away the tingling cold to bring instead a prickling heat which suffused his whole body. Jack felt himself glow deep within, every inch of his body was alive though it was only her mouth which now caressed him, and his hips lifted from the ground, wanting to be ever deeper inside her. Then he heard the shuffle of feet along the track not far away, someone slowly coming closer. "Stop, Mary, stop!" he said. "No, Jack, no!" she answered, her teeth grazing his cock so her lips could part. "But there's someone coming!" "Yes!" Mary laughed. "You!" * The excitement of a stranger approaching made Jack come before the stranger did, an elderly Portuguese woman swathed in black, with a black felt trilby shading her from the sun. He recovered himself enough to wish her a pleasant 'boa tarde' as she passed, and she returned the greeting, continuing on her way without concern. "A very good afternoon indeed!" Mary chuckled, wiping her lips and then kissing him with tenderness. Her back had been bowed and turned to the old woman, Jack's groin covered as she had promised, and there could have been no offence caused. "You are-!" Jack began, pulling his shorts back on before anyone else could happen along, but then found himself lost for words. "Beautiful? Beguiling? Bewitching?" Mary suggested, standing and pulling her tee shirt back on. "One hell of a bitch," Jack said. "What has got into you?" "I'm just determined that we are all going to enjoy this holiday," she said. "And like I say, it was your reward, or maybe your punishment, for the way you were towards Carol." There it was again, the cryptic comment, the suggestion that for once he might have been nice towards Carol, or maybe the accusation that he had taken advantage of her. For some reason it worried him. "Do you think you can manage the water containers on your own, Jack?" she asked. "I suppose so," he said. "But why?" "I rather fancy walking on to the village, just to have a look around, if you don't mind." "No, I don't mind, if you're sure you'll be okay on your own." "Of course I'll be okay!" she answered brightly, kissing him on the cheek. "Just make sure you don't get into trouble." * The water containers were heavier than they seemed, by the time Jack reached the villa he had worked up a sweat again and the palms of his hands were burning. Depositing the water in the kitchen, taking one of the cold beers which had been left in the fridge for them, he went to the bedroom where he stripped and showered. Then, pulling on a pair of swimming trunks, he went out to the pool. Carol had found the beer too, she lay sprawled on a lounger, wearing a skimpy bikini, a bottle clasped lewdly between her thighs. She raised her sunglasses, opened one eye to watch as he walked past her to one of the other loungers and angled it towards the sun. "Nice walk, Jack?" she asked; and then, "Did Mum come too?" "Eh?" he said, stretching out. "Did Mum come with you too?" "Oh. No. Your mother has gone to take a look at the village." "Ah," said Carol, lowering the sunglasses again. The radio was playing softly beside her, Jack could hear her humming along with it, and as he watched her he saw her hand move to the beer bottle. She didn't raise it to her lips to drink, though, but ran her fingers up and down its neck, around its mouth, a slow and lazy motion, as if she was trying to excite it. Or excite him? A ridiculous notion, he told himself, but he found it difficult to take his eyes from her. She had her mother's blonde hair, the same full breasts, in her he could imagine the Mary of twenty years ago, though her waist was slimmer and her thighs leaner. Those thighs were now tensing, he saw, the muscles visibly flexing as they gripped the bottle more tightly, and there was nothing musical about the low sounds now coming from her. She was no longer humming, but sighing. "Are you watching, Jack?" she asked, her face turned towards him but her eyes unseen behind the dark glasses, and when his only response was to give an uncomfortable cough she laughed. "Get you another beer?" she asked, getting to her feet and striding back into the villa. He should have got up too, gone to his bedroom, or in search of Mary, anywhere away from temptation, but when Carol returned he hadn't moved. She walked slowly towards him, a barefoot elegance about her, hips swaying, arms swinging casually, two bottles loosely clutched in the fingers of one hand. Rather than offer him one, though, she swung her legs astride him, lowered herself onto his lap and set the bottles down on the ground beside her. "Thirsty, Jack?" she asked, her hands moving behind her back. "Carol?" "I think you must be, Jack, in this heat, and you're sweating," she said, as she unfastened the bikini top and slipped it from her shoulders. She cupped her hands beneath her breasts, though they were firm enough and there was no need to support them, stroked her thumbs slowly across her nipples to make them erect. She smiled down at him to hold his gaze, he was aware of one hand moving from her breast, then returning with one of the bottles of beer. She licked the mouth of the bottle, ran her tongue over it, kissed it and sucked it before tipping it back and taking a mouthful. "Mm, lovely," she said, not swallowing, so that much of the beer ran down her chin. Then she bent to kiss him, sharing the beer with him, spilling it into his mouth and then following it with her tongue, which felt cold and effervescent. His tongue met hers and fought to caress it, chased it as it washed around his mouth, across his teeth. He was actually gasping when she drew her mouth away, so exciting had been her kiss, and when she removed her sunglasses he saw an almost mocking laughter in her eyes. "What are you doing, Carol?" he asked. "Why preparing to fuck you, Jack, when I have you excited enough," she answered matter-of-factly, and took the bottle again, poured beer over her breasts before lowering them towards his face, saying, "But first we need to quench that thirst of yours. Suck me, Jack, drink me." Her firm breast filled his mouth, the crisp nipple grazed his tongue, and he sucked greedily, his hands wrapping around her to hold her close, feeling her young body alive with passion and adventure. As much adventure as her mother had shown at the spring, he thought. Carol moved his mouth from one breast to another, her fingers roaming all over his face as she directed him, let him suck on that a while, then had him switching from one breast to the other so quickly that it was as if she was slapping him with them. When she finally brought her breasts back from his face his cheeks were burning, as if scorched by the sun. Fear of Flying Lifting her body from his, standing astride the lounger, she glanced down at his swimming shorts, said, "Is your cock hard for me, Jack? Is your cock hot for me?" The exact words her mother had used, he recalled, feeling a tremor run through his body as Carol's fingers brushed his swollen shorts to reach once more for the beer bottle, her other hand meanwhile slipping loose the bows which tied the bikini pants at her hips. They came away as she raised the bottle, he saw the soft golden down which was neatly trimmed, had the briefest glimpse of her swollen lips as she brought the bottle to them. Then she began to slowly stroke the bottle against her wet cunt, parting its lips, making them swell even more. Her hips began to gently pump back and forth above him, the bottle parted her cunt wider, she took a pace forward with each foot, rested the bottle on his chest and then forced herself onto it. "Oh Jack!" she sighed, as if it was his cock which had entered her. She stirred her hips around, the pressure of the bottle on his chest was a little painful but Jack could not take his eyes from the euphoric expression on her face. She bent a little, to grip the bottle firmly in both hands, and began to rise and fall on it, bent lower still so that her hair brushed his face but kept her mouth a tantalising distance away from his. Now he was yearning for her, he needed his cock to be where the bottle was, and she was aware of this. Straightening her long legs, rising above him again, she slowly withdrew the bottle, held it up to the light to look at it. "I wonder if it's any fuller than before?" she mused. "Want to see, Jack? Want to taste me?" "Oh yes," he nodded, and she brought the bottle to his mouth, tilted it to his lips. "Imagine I have a cock, Jack, and this is it. Suck me and please me." Jack's lips fastened on the bottle and the beer trickled into his mouth, along with anything else she had filled it with, she began to stroke it back and forth and he sucked it in the same way that Mary had earlier sucked his cock. "And now I think Jack's cock is hard for me," Carol decided, peeling down his shorts, closing her fingers around him and slowly sinking onto him. The delight was delirious, Jack never wanted it to end, but still he was worried, said, "Someone might come, Carol." "Oh yes! Someone will!" she laughed. "You!" * From the lounge, hidden by the curtain, Mary could see her lover and her daughter embracing on the lounger, Carol tucked into Jack, his arm cradling her to him. Through the open French windows she could hear their voices. "We've got a night flight back, haven't we Jack?" Carol asked. "That's right," he answered, his fingers stroking her cheek. "Good!" "Why good?" he asked, hating night flights himself. Carol snuggled deeper into his embrace, kissing his chest, said, "Because then we will have a blanket draped over our laps and this time I'll do more than just grip your thigh and stroke your cock." Jack chuckled, said, "And your mother, meanwhile? What will she be doing?" Still hidden, Mary grinned. She would be on the other side of him, sucking his cock while her daughter held it. Darling Carol had played her part to perfection, got every line word perfect as they had rehearsed them. Fear of Flying As the plane touched down at Gatwick, I felt relief flooding through my body. Petrified of flying since an incident on a British Airways flight from New York (a disturbed passenger, airline staff assaulted, a hushed, frantic though thankfully fruitless search for an on-board explosive) two years ago, I subjected myself to hours of silent, personal angst by taking up a conference gig in Atlanta this time. But I was almost home; from London, I had only to suffer the one-hour connection to Amsterdam, which I called home for the time being. Still, I mentally cursed myself for turning down the direct option via KLM, which would have spared me the last unbearable leg. In my preoccupation up until landing, I had barely noticed the constant glances in my direction from my neighbour of two seats over on the plane, a far above-average looker by typical airline seating standards. My luck was typically sub-standard or so I thought before I became too petrified of air travel to even notice these things. Now we had landed, I glanced over in my neighbour's direction only to make direct eye contact with the stranger. Yes, quite above average, I mused. The pools of his dark eyes transfixed me. His lustrous, wavy hair appealingly framed masculine features and angular jawline. His physique was lean yet toned under his light blue cotton dress shirt. Without breaking our gaze, he picked up a newspaper from his lap, neatly folded it, reached under the seat with long, elegant fingers to collect his briefcase, and reluctantly (it seemed) turned toward the exit. Realising that the plane was emptying, I collected my carry-on items and quickly exited the aircraft. Thankfully, my company had upgraded me to business class for this flight, which also meant I could kill wait time in the airline lounge. I still had two hours before boarding for the connecting flight commenced, so I thought to use the lounge showers to freshen up and to distract myself from the prospect of getting on another flight, albeit a short one. I was still a bit uptight when I got to the lounge but had a plan for instant relaxation. Quickly downing a flute of bubbly white, I delved into carry-on and removed my cosmetics bag, alongside the clear plastic Ziploc containing my bottles of travel-sized liquids. As I crossed the lounge, I scanned the room with latent curiosity and found myself locking eyes with the attractive stranger from the plane. Removed from the confines of the airline cabin, my mind roved as my gaze fixed on his generous lips. I experienced a sudden fluttering in my stomach and a liquid heat spreading between my legs. Should those lips brush against the soft skin of my... I realised that my face must have flushed with the sudden heat that rushed upward. Feeling purposeful (though no less aroused), I broke our gaze and rushed toward the haven of the showers. Clicking the lock shut on the stall, I languidly undressed, noting the neat pebbles into which my nipples had transformed, and observing the sticky sheen of clear residue on the cotton of my lacy underpants, evidence of the humidity between my legs. I observed myself in the mirror of the changing stall, separated by an opaque curtain from the shower itself. Medium in height, I had kept a lean waist complemented by full breasts and round buttocks, which sometimes in the summer I would show off in short-shorts, at the risk of attracting wolf-whistles from passing urchins. I thought of the attractive stranger's gaze from the plane and its increased intensity across the greater distance of the lounge, and began to stoke myself gently. My yielding pussy offered another sluice of lubrication, coating my fingertips. I spread my juices upward from my dampened lips to my hardened clit, releasing sparks of electric pleasure. I decided to get down to the task at hand. I removed three bottles from my liquids bag, shampoo, conditioner and small travel tube of lubricant, and from my cosmetics bag removed two vibrating dildos of different sizes, the larger with a switch for three different speeds, and the smaller with a remote control, with ten vibration patterns and intensities. My slick lips, pink with excitement glistened as I raised one leg upon the changing room bench. I held my pussy lips open momentarily to admire the wetness. The large vibrator entered my damp slit with ease, and clenching my pussy muscles around it, kept it in place as I picked up the tube of lubricant. Squeezing a generous dollop of the cream on the fragrant dampness of my right fingers, spread my buttocks with my left and found my puckered asshole, spreading the cream around its rim. As I began to massage the dildo in my pussy slowly in and out, I teased my back opening with the penetration of one, then two fingertips. Pleasure quickened my breath, but left my movements flowing and languid. Feeling dangerous, I unlocked the door of the changing room, then picking up the second smaller vibe and its remote. I then stepped into the shower and drawing the curtain, set the water to cold, to keep my nipples razor-sharp. I switched on the larger vibe to its lowest setting and slowly started moving it in and out of my clutching lips, eyes closed and my legs shaking from the waves of pleasure that washed over me, flight now a distant memory. It was all I could do to stop myself from moaning. I had my buttocks spread and my second vibe poised at my back entrance, when the well-mannered click of the changing room door softly closing led me to release my flesh and snap open my eyes. A tall figure cut an imposing shadow on the other side of the curtain and suddenly I felt a strange intermingling of fear and desire, which led me to slow (yet not stop) the work between my legs. He drew the curtain aside with one hand, sculptural in his olive-skinned nudity. My handsome neighbour from the last flight then silently ran his eyes over my naked body, as if attempting to visually devour me. I felt that I ought to cover myself, protest somehow but found myself again transfixed,unable to manage an utterance or even to break our gaze. The hand between my legs however continued its work, and as the dildo slipped with ease through my increasingly lubricated folds. The water rolled off of my naked skin, and as he moved the heat of his gaze toward the clutching, slick lips of my filled-up cunt, my pleasure buzzed yet another notch higher. I shifted my own gaze toward his proud erection, which had grown quickly as he consumed me with his eyes. I realised I could give him something else to watch; switching position now to lift my right foot onto the bench, I revealed the smaller vibe in my right hand, and once again pulling apart my buttocks with my left hand, slowly inserted the vibe into my well-lubricated asshole, feeling the plastic bullet stretching my ass. With the remote, I switched he speed on the anal vibe to medium intensity. I felt deliciously naughty with slow, dizzying pleasure washing across me from the intermittent patterns of the anal vibe, mixing with the regular, vibrating penetrations of the larger dildo. Realising that my eyes had closed as I enjoyed the complementary sensations in both of my holes, I acknowledged my exhibitionism once again by opening them to focus upon my guest. He had barely moved a muscle, save for the obvious fact that his erection was at glorious full-mast, its plump purple head straining upward. I gasped with delight and anticipation. As he acknowledged my regained attention, he moved slowly toward me, his hand reaching toward mine, which stopped moving between my legs. Gently and slowly pulling he pulled the large vibe from inside me; my hungry cunt continued to clutch at the air. Unhurriedly, he switched the vibrator off and laid it on the bench on the other side of the curtain, then drew closed the curtain once again. He encircled me with his warm, bare arms until his erection pressed urgently against my stomach. He then pressed his mouth down upon mine, the first roughness of his otherwise gentle though intense desire. Pleasure coursed through by body, enhanced by the ongoing intermittent vibes of the smaller toy still inside me. Positioning my left leg on the shower seat and the head of his erection at my wet, grasping opening, he sought my permission with his equally liquid gaze. Sighing with desire, I nodded my approval, upon which he slowly pushed his length in, up to the hilt, pressing my body against the wall of the shower. I finally felt filled, squeezing his cock as I hooked my left foot around his firm buttocks. The pleasure felt so intense, my standing leg started to buckle. Placing his hands firmly behind my buttocks he held me in place, his cock hard inside me. He moved at a slow rhythm at first and gradually increased the speed of his thrusts. As my excitement grew, the intensity of our fucking did as well. Finally, he turned me toward the wall so that I was leaning on the seat, lifted up my ass, and entered me in one smooth glide from behind, playing with my nipples with one hand and the engorged nub of my clit with the other. I could feel my orgasm building now, as my senses drowned in the intensity of our fucking. In the distance, I could hear a boarding call for a flight to Zurich, which might as well have been outer space from where my mind was then. As wave after mounting wave of climax washed over me, I felt a sudden pulsating inside me, at which point he slipped his cock from my spasming cunt and covered the globes of my buttocks in ropes of come. As I caught my breath, he drew open the curtain, and without saying a word, walked dripping and naked out of the changing stall. Stepping out into the changing room, I wiped steam from the mirror to observe, over my shoulder, my sperm-coated buttocks, the only evidence of our encounter. I then turned the shower to steaming hot, and washed off once again, luxuriating in my post-orgasmic languor. I extracted a new pair of knickers from my cosmetic bag - this time a gauzy red g-string, and dressed again from my neatly-folded pile of clothes. As I exited the shower room, I scanned the lounge once again; as I suspected, no sign of my dark stranger. A fleeting suspicion that the rest of the lounge might suspect our tryst was discarded upon a second scan of the muzak-atmosphered indifference of the space. As evidence of my union with the stranger evaporated, I realised that the smaller vibe was still firmly planted in my ass, sending pleasurable aftershocks coursing through me. A half-turn back toward the showers changed direction however. I had already cleared security, so no need to fret about the logistics. Just one more thing to prolong the pleasure and keep my fear of flying at bay. Feeling like a secret slut in the best possible of ways, I repacked the remaining items into my carry-on and headed toward my boarding gate.