6 comments/ 23642 views/ 3 favorites Turbulence By: Phrenetic_Ice "Excuse me, is that seat vacant?" Glancing up from his spreadsheet, Greg Lancaster liked what he saw. Surely no more than eighteen or nineteen, the fresh-faced youngster was, if not the prettiest girl to ever cast a shadow across his retinas, certainly the best-looking in his residual memory. Drooling was not an option, and in the wake of his marginally over-emphasised "Oh yes, of course," he clutched the lap-top to his chest, intending for her to squeeze past to the window-seat.. "Thanks," she replied, inching her way forward delicately and providing Greg thereby, a momentarily arousing view of her compact rear-end in passing. "Oh God, please let her trip and fall in my lap," he prayed silently, whilst watching that skin-tight little skirt in transit, her rather shapely thighs - a work in progress. The moment closed out and the fantasies by necessity re-caged. Smiling at her briefly, he returned the notebook to his knee and continued adding data to column "F." The red-eye from Sydney to Perth is among the world's stranger flights. Officially listed at three hours and ten minutes in duration, with the head-on influence of the 'Fremantle Doctor' - a high altitude wind that blows-inland along the Western Australian coastline, the flight can be protracted to well over five hours. Conversely, the return trip can be undertaken in as little as two hours fifty, courtesy of the same wind-swept conditions. In lieu of the available meteorological data, check-in had already advised this to be a five-hour flight in all probability. Column "F" was beginning to fade in interest with the close proximity of Miss teenage distraction and the cruelly appealing scent that seems to cling to scrubbed and desirable young bodies such that she possessed. He wondered if in five hours time he would even know her name? In his late twenties himself, Greg was engaged to be married and knew his mind was wandering along fully undisciplined paths here. It wasn't paying heed to his instructions quite obviously - probably the sudden exposure to that tight little skirt he reasoned. Out of the corner of his eye he could see she was reading-up on what appeared to be lecture notes - probably for her end of year exams in November he guessed. Hooked-up to her Walkman, she seemed (and probably was) oblivious to all around her. As the plane taxied down the runway, she inclined her head to glance out the window, Rain was sleeting down now and as the 747 climbed rapidly, banking to the left towards the western corridor, the diffused halo of the city lights could clearly be seen to the east. Right now though, Greg wasn't dwelling on the aesthetic beauty of Sydney's twinkling lights from a five thousand foot aspect, he was simply gazing at the girl's slim shoulders, pretty blonde hair swept back in the most feminine of neat pony-tails....that spot just beneath her hairline that he would so like to kiss..... "I don't think so Greg," the image of his young wife-to-be smiled at him sweetly from his conscience Column "F" snared his attentions once again, although who really cared how the October sales figures were going to pan out when you could be pondering instead whether that was a conventional bra or a sexy little push-up, whose straps were so engagingly visible beneath the girl's lacy top. He was still considering those very possibilities a short time later when the girl packed away her books and Walkman. "Really sorry, but would you excuse me for a moment," she smiled at him, "I have to get to the overhead locker." This time he was treated to a forward view as she sidled across in front of him. The most perfect of young breasts passed but inches from his face. No more than a 32A he decided, not that any span of thirty two inches anywhere in the modern world could possibly encapsulate a more alluring set of curves. Even that mere hint of cleavage showed that God had been right on his game that night back in 1986 or 1987 - whenever it was the girl's parents had gotten substantially beyond the light-petting stage. It also gave Greg an opportunity to take in her facial details, not that this did anything but worsen the situation. A slightly softer version of young actress Keira Knightley he decided. High cheek-bones aided by a truly flawless complexion, set with ice-blue eyes and a mouth - if it hadn't been kissed yet - was one that was most definitely needed to be....and soon!. How many hearts was this beautiful visage going to subsequently break?.....his own already headed the list. "Student?" he asked as casually as possible as she inched herself back in. "Yes....unfortunately," she smiled, "Got my year finals at Uni in a few weeks." "You live in Sydney?" he added, desperately wanting to prolong the conversation. She looked puzzled by the question for a moment. "Ohh, no, I live in Perth. I just came to Sydney to stay with friends during the holiday. What about you? do you live in Western Australia?" Her voice was as pretty as her expression. He was sure he gulped. "Nope, I'm a NSW boy (he chose the word deliberately)...just going to Perth on business for a Company meeting...budgets and boring stuff like that I'm afraid. I think I'd rather be back studying for my HSC," he grinned...."I'm Greg by the way." She took his hand. "I'm Candace, nice to meet you." 'Candace' so suited her he was thinking. He had all but forgotten his fiancee's name at this juncture. Right then the stewardess parked her trolley alongside them in the aisle and enquired as to their preference for a drink. Tempted as he was to ask for a bottle of champagne and two glasses, they settled for a ginger ale each. He was desperately hoping she wouldn't ask how old he was because he would have to have lied. He knew he looked little more than twenty-two or three and that he prayed was her assessment too. "Pretty late for a young girl to be flying alone isn't it?" he said, changing the subject, "We're not going to be touching down in Perth till almost two in the morning?" "Come on," she breezed, "I'm eighteen and anyway, my dad will meet me at the arrivals gate to take me home. I'll be fine." Greg barely had time to acknowledge this fact when the cabin-lights dimmed and the in-flight theater flickered on. As the credits for "The Brothers Grimm" began to roll, Candace muttered "I'm really tired, I don't think I can stay awake for this," as she pushed the tray back into its upright position. "Would you like me to get a blanket for you?" he asked, bitterly disappointed that he was to be imminently denied her company for the rest of the flight. "Yes please," she answered sweetly, "It's getting quite cold isn't it?" He hadn't really thought about it, but now that he did - she was right. He retrieved one for himself also from the overhead locker. Some ten minutes later, the first time he dared glance in her general direction, he was mortified to discover she was still marginally awake. She smiled at him, which not only served to magnify his voyeuristic guilt but caused him to suffer aortic palpitations on account of her tempting closeness. So innocent and pretty did she look, wedged comfortably into that little niche between the seat and fuselage, her head resting against the small pillow, that he could but return her smile before re-aligning his gaze dutifully upon Heath Ledger and the small screen. "What the Hell am I thinking?" he chastised himself silently. "She's just a kid!" Another ten minutes and she appeared to be asleep. He was now able to study the facial intricacies of what was undoubtedly one of Nature's finer achievements. Essentially soft-featured, her skin was indeed smooth and blemish-free. Resident in her cheeks the flush of youth, whilst between them, that most delicate and appealing set of lips trembled perceptibly, in sync with her respiratory rate. How feminine those small locks of hair that now lay across her forehead, almost in defiance of the symmetry of her other features, he thought to himself. Stirring slightly, the blanket slipped and leaning over he pulled it up for her. What he would have given to be able to kiss her just once....even in her sleep! Barely at the half-way point of the movie and Greg was distracted by some unexpected lateral movement. Restless quite obviously, the girl was now lying against his shoulder, still comfortably wedged into her night pillow. Unwilling to move her, he simply raised the intervening armrest to its upright position and retracted his own seat until gravity caused her to nestle protectively into his upper arm. Her face was now but inches from his, he could even smell her sweet breath. She was an angel, of that he had no doubt, but at that angle - an angel with marginally visible cleavage so tempting, he had to count backwards from ten to restore the status quo. Most everyone else had turned off their night-lights now and "The Brothers Grimm" was obviously playing to a less than enthusiastic audience. He was finding the lightly pressured contact with the young girl most enervating and he longed for her to slip across even more. She looked so vulnerable he almost ached with hope. Drawing up his own blanket, for a distinct chill was pervading the cabin, he found it impossible to sleep. Not that the girl was disturbing him at all - she had neither moved or stirred in any way. The soft rise and fall of her chest suggested she was deeply asleep and as comfortable as a Polar bear mid-hibernation. Unseemly thoughts were gathering on the periphery of his consciousness. He tried ignoring them but they would not be silenced. "She'll never wake up - not if you're really careful Greg." "You just gonna sit there and let this opportunity pass you by loser?" It was that final insult, "What are you man? a doer or a dreamer?" that finally spurred him into action. Dammit, those all-tempting curves were now less than a foot away! Drawing his own blanket up to chest level, so as to hide all trace of his imminent digital exploratory, his hand inched his way beneath the coarse material. Studying her face for the least sign of wakefulness his fingers had encroached to within centimetres of the underside of the girl's breasts. His own heart-rate itself loud enough now to waken the dead, he stopped short of his quarry. He couldn't do this! This was sexual assault - plain and simple. Besides. how would he ever explain his actions?....to Candace? His fiancee? The Court?...Perhaps just one gentle squeeze and then if she woke, pretend to be asleep himself...only another couple of inches after all? Even as his hand very gently encircled the girls left breast, barely making the slightest contact - he could feel the heat and decisive stirrings between his own legs. The intrinsic forbidden nature of his groping made it just that much hotter. His fingers closed around the young girl's curves and imperceptibly squeezed that murderously soft and sexy mound. Candace stirred but slightly and he was frozen with fear though not daring to relinquish his hold, in case such movement betrayed his encamped position. He thought he detected the onset of a smile but could not be sure. Again she resumed her regular breathing. He was able to support the full weight now of her small breast yet had he been asked to describe the feeling right at that moment, words would have failed him. Buoyed by his progress to date, Greg squeezed once more, cupping her entire breast now and revelling in the sensations being afforded him. The girl murmured slightly and seemed almost to be nestling in to him closer. Moving his hand across with infinite care, he gently grasped her right breast and was immediately rewarded by an increased stiffening in the nether regions of his lap. How he wished he might check the lie and contours of the land beneath Candace's own skirt. For now though, he was up to his fingernails in lust for the wondrously hot little female that lay so open and vulnerable right beside him, schoolgirl or not. There was nothing for it - he had to do it! Ensuring that she was covered by the blanket, pretty much to her shoulders, he allowed his hand to drop to the girl's waist. Proving far easier than he had supposed, he managed to slip his hand up beneath her top - the heat from her body cauterising his logic circuits and over-riding all sense of caution. At the point he reached the lower edge of her bra, so flimsy an article, one might have supposed it was supporting little more than just a pair of prepubescent nipples, he swallowed hard. Candace, sighing now audibly, wriggled in her seat and made as if to turn away from him. He figured he was but moments from discovery, being unable to extricate his hand. She would wake up and discover the facts of the case. As luck would have it however, she settled back in her original position, snuggling up against her would-be lover with but a soft murmur. On a hiding to nothing, he slipped his hand up inside that closeted air-space and all but came in his pants as he felt the girl's beautiful soft breast, finally skin to skin. Her nipple responded quickly to the intruder and as he began to manipulate her, Candace's murmurs became more audible. Whilst far from moaning, she was reacting to his touch and a gentle smile was clearly evident on her face now. More than anything he wanted to kiss her and tell her how beautiful she was. That he could never do this was exquisite torture indeed. Suddenly he felt her right arm in transit beneath the blanket, bringing her hand up to of all places - her other breast. He dared not move, even as she commenced pleasuring herself whilst still deeply asleep. Unable to see, but fully able to detect, Greg watched awe-struck as the girl's hand roamed upwards beneath the blanket, caressing herself albeit, through her top. The stewardess glanced across at row K in passing, seats 9 and 10 in particular. "How sweet," she thought to herself, that nice young man snuggled up with the young girl there. If only her own boyfriend were so attentive! Past caring for his own well-being, all Greg could think about was what wondrous prize lay hidden there beneath that tight little skirt. If her murmurs were anything to go by, there certainly would be no need for a can of WD40. Managing somehow to find an entry-window between her upper thighs and the skirt itself, he propelled his hand almost to her panties without making any contact with skin - smooth and hot enough to seal inarguably, an appointment with the legal profession. Not that it would ever have gotten that far - Candace's father would unquestionably be leaving him a quadriplegic and bleeding profusely on the baggage carousel. Asleep or not, his first-up contact with the front of her panties produced what could only be interpreted as an embryonic moan from those pretty lips and if she wasn't already wet and primed - even asleep - then he was a bad judge of female arousal. Her legs parted, at least to the very restricted limit that tight little skirt would allow. It was enough though for him to slip a finger up beneath the leg of her panties whereupon he discovered a Utopia that is most certainly denied the average traveler. The lips of her pussy were completely awash and there was definitely a 'vacancy' sign hanging up there. Not even taking care now to avoid detection, he pushed a finger well inside the girl, passing comfortably beneath her fully intact hymen, not that this would have been any great hindrance given, his lust right then. Pumping his middle finger well into the promised land, the girl was beginning to moan way too loud for comfort. There was no choice. As he inclined his head and kissed her deeply, he felt her hips beginning now to respond to his invasive digital therapy. He sensed her orgasm marshalling itself even before she did. His own undies he knew were sticky as all Hell but nothing could detract from his intent to bring her to Heaven at thirty-five thousand feet. At the crucial moment, her eyes flickered open. In a blind panic, he withdrew his hand. "Don't stop now," she whimpered in desperation, "Please, not now!" Turbulence Our relationship was like lithium I realized; stabilizing, life-saving even, but a libido killer. We were so recently married that I kept thinking of him and introducing him as my boyfriend. But that would have to stop. We were on a plane traveling over South America for our honeymoon, first class. Jack was everything I had ever dreamed of in a man. He was handsome, so handsome in fact that I would get jealous quickly because girls were always hitting on him. He had a beautifully proportioned Roman face, generous mouth and the kindest most understanding brown eyes I had ever seen. He wasn't tall, but tall enough for me, I'm only 5'3" and he definitely towered over me. No, the problem with our chemistry wasn't physical. We met when he was only eighteen and I was twenty-six. I caught one look at him at a bonfire and without even asking his name invited him back to my apartment. At the time I finally felt like I was enjoying my full sexual maturity and he was just one more notch in my bedpost. He moved in three days later. I let him because he ushered in a period of sweetness in my life that I thought was gone forever. I had to teach him everything. And somewhere along the way I just lost interest in fucking him. It was just that he was so damn stable. Power and authority emanated from him despite his youth. In less than a year of meeting him he had started a successful import business because he wanted to take care of me. He promised we would travel and now we were. I loved him and I stayed with him because he did what he said he would do, a rare thing in a man, and because he was completely devoid of bullshit. I admit that before Jack I had an addiction to men that were full of shit. And what's worse is that I didn't even believe in love anymore. I only believed in sex. Old habits die hard, I sighed to myself. Jack returned from the bathroom and tried to slide back into his window seat without waking the man in the aisle. Unfortunately some turbulence knocked him backwards and the man woke and glared at us. Apparently we were ruining his vacation. We waited until his eyes were closed to make faces at him and laugh silently. We weren't technically supposed to be in first class but coach was overbooked and the handsome strapping blonde steward had taken one look at us and led us to the last two seats. "Happy Honeymoon" he said cheerfully. "But how did you know?" I asked, surprised. He just smiled and taking my jacket whispered quietly, "You're glowing." It's true, I was glowing. Marriage agreed with me. If I had sacrificed hot, one-night stands the trade off had been that now I never had hangovers and looked better than ever. Our month long honeymoon was already half over and I had spent the last two weeks in the sun, making my long blonde hair even blonder with lemon juice and tanning my body. I wore the skimpiest of clothes, skintight halter tops and miniscule jean skirts. I let my hair hang loose and wavy down my back and Jack was so happy and proud of me that every time we passed a jewelry store he insisted on buying me a new pair of dangly earrings to brush my sun kissed shoulders. I felt like a goddess and accepting that I couldn't have everything gave me a certain naturalness that desperate, single women don't have. "Did you see Tristan?" I asked Jack. Tris, as we called him, was Jack's friend who was accompanying us. What I loved about Jack was that he was so young and committed to having a dynamic life together. Instead of traveling alone or only hanging out with other couples we preferred to hang out with friends and pick up people along the way to make our journey more fun. "Yeah, he was sleeping next to his future wife," Jack joked. I didn't know why this was so funny but told him I would go check it out. Slipping on my white leather sandals I slipped lithely out of my seat and past our sleeping neighbor. The plane was one of those jumbo jets carrying god knows how many people. The lights were lowered for the overnight flight across the wild country of Brazil. I had to walk carefully because of some small barely perceptible waves the plane was making and nearly tripped in my high heels. A strong arm encircled my waist for support as the plane bucked underneath me. "Careful, gorgeous." It was Ken, our Adonis steward from first class. "What are you doing back here in the slums?" I asked steadying myself, aware that his hand had lingered round my waist. "I could ask you the same," he responded playfully. He withdrew his hand and respectfully lowered his eyes although I could still feel his gaze all over my legs and breasts. Maybe next life time, I told him with my eyes. With my mouth I said, "I'm looking for our friend." "Aah, yes. I believe we seated him near the rear bulkhead. "He indicated the aisle and I thanked him and began my slow bouncing walk down the aisle. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to find him. Though Jack had only been kidding about Tris being seated next to his future wife I was sure to be jealous if she was pretty. Tris was unfortunately the type of man that I had married Jack to get away from. Masculine junk food, I dubbed him. He was the same age as Jack but taller and with a deeper gravel voice and a sarcastic sense of humor. We had clicked from the minute we met and at times the intensity of our conversations made me ashamed in front of Jack, as if my desire was branded on my forehead. The last two weeks together with him had proved to me forever that pleasure and pain are only separated by a very fine line. At times the physical proximity to him combined with the intense heat and humidity of Brazil and the rhythm of the music stabbed me between my legs and sent knife-like pains up my back. I made every effort to give up this insane notion of running off with my husband's friend. I felt like being older gave me more self control. I remained very chaste when I was with the boys and would never remove my top on the beach unless Tris was at an appropriate distance. Although a week through the trip I more or less gave up any pretext and purchased a red g-string that I wore to take full advantage of the sun. Although this behavior might be considered over the top in the states, being surrounded by other women on the beach in the same attire made me feel like this was acceptable and I reasoned that Tristan had his own agenda and I shouldn't be so sure he wanted me anymore. The sexual tension did seem to be good for Jack and mine's sex life. He certainly didn't complain when I walked around with my breasts exposed and my hair grazing my nearly naked ass for the world to see. He spent his free time with one hand almost always applying coconut oil to my ass cheeks or breasts or else following me to enjoy the view as I walked on the beach. We took frequent breaks from Tristan's company so I could relieve his throbbing erections. At times I would let him fuck me from behind as I held onto the window of our upstairs bungalow on the beach. Or we would hide under a towel on a hammock in some forgotten corner of the resort as he entered my pussy or my ass and we would let the hammock rock us until he exploded. The freedom to fuck in semipublic gave me a sense of fulfillment that I had never known before. Once I followed Jack into a bathroom on the beach where I knelt down and sucked and pulled on his hard dick with my mouth. I knew that my position on the floor of the bathroom was visible beneath the bamboo door to anyone on the beach outside but I didn't care. I considered the fact that we had come to the bathroom to hide the majority of the sex act to be very discreet on my part. So I pushed my ass back a little prouder because I knew how powerful I was. And I considered it a part of being a beautiful woman to satiate the desire that I produced in men. Jack came in half a dozen hot liquid squirts against my chest and the way he looked at me said I would be the only woman for him for his entire life. The cum glistened on my chest when we came out of the bathroom but I didn't bother to wipe it off. There were a few men who had gathered around the stalls to witness the finale and when we came out they gave us a round of applause. I smiled and made towards the ocean to wash the cum off my chest. When I turned to go they clapped even harder and Jack made me stop so that he could stroke my ass and spread my cheeks for their benefit. "I'm surprised you did that," I said to him smiling as we went into the ocean. "What can I say," he laughed, "Brazil has that effect on me." I think it was because of these frequent throbbing fucks throughout the day that I managed to get through my honeymoon without being miserable with desire for another man. I did my best to be polite to the women that Tris encountered along the way. It became easier when I realized they were just one night stands. He would refuse any second night encore performances when they came back looking for him. When Jack asked him why he would invariably say that they weren't hot enough, one had a nice body but was lacking in the face, another wasn't sexual enough, a third was hot on the dance floor but her pussy smelled like fish. "I guess we can't all be so lucky in love," Jack murmured to him one night gazing in my direction. "No I guess not," he said darkly, looking me full in the eyes. Tris had intensely brooding good looks. I put my head down. Jack, in his innocence pushed us to dance together. Tris was in a sinister mood as he came up behind me. "It's like this song is about sex, even though it isn't," he whispered into my ear. I hated him for this. "Do you want me?" I threw back at him turning around and dancing face to face. I immediately regretted it but I had wanted to punish him. "Maybe," he said and then stormed off into the night. "What's wrong with him," Jack asked behind me. I just shook my head. The next day Jack received an urgent message, he might have to return to the states for a few days to handle a shipping crisis. I sat mutely listening to Jack ask Tris what he should do, whether we should cut the trip short, or as he proposed ingeniously to Tris, that he should remain with me and he would return in a few days. It seemed for a few doomed hours that this would be the case. I listened as Tris made Jack his solemn vow to take care of me while he was gone. "You're my brother from another mother," Jack replied and I wanted to cry. The inevitability of our destiny seemed so fixed that I didn't even understand when Jack told me the good news. "Crisis averted," he said happily kissing me on the mouth. "We can still go to the islands." So here we were, on our way. I had almost forgotten that I was looking for Tris, hoping for what I could never have. I focused instead on the way the slow walking forced me to flex my thighs and buttocks and the cool breeze from the air conditioning snaked underneath my skirt. I wasn't wearing any underwear and it gave me the most delicious chill. Finally I spied Tris, asleep next to a Catholic nun in her eighties who was snoring away happily with her little black cosseted head tucked under Tris' chin. I smiled despite myself and continued walking towards the rear of the plane. I entered the bathroom and neglected to lock the door behind me. I needed to pee but I decided to hold it because the pressure made me feel wet and horny and this was a long flight, I reasoned. Carefully I pulled down my halter top to expose my tan upright breasts. My small nipples were constantly at attention because I refused to wear a bra. I wanted to experience as many sensations through my breasts as possible to make up for them always having to be hidden away. I cupped them, happily aware that my breasts were too large to cover completely with my hands and squeezed their firm flesh. The skin had turned a light golden making the pink nipples seem even rosier. I examined myself from every angle, bending forward to witness the round globes fall together in the mirror and then turning to the side to verify that they stuck out as straight as ever. I removed a cherry chapstick from my skirt pocket and gave my lips a dewy wet look. Gazing at myself with my mouth open in the mirror I brought the chapstick up to touch one firm nipple and then the other. Then the door opened. "Oh my God!" It was Tristan. Stunned, I slammed the door closed and gripped the sink, my mind reeling. Tristan had caught me playing with myself in the airplane bathroom. I was so embarrassed. All of my goddess confidence was gone. I yanked my halter top back up and made to run out of the bathroom. I slammed directly into Tris' chest and fell back into the bathroom. "I'm so embarrassed," I sobbed against his t-shirt. His hands were on my face smoothing my hair and caressing my shoulders. We were inside the bathroom again. I was shuddering as if the cabin temperature had dropped thirty degrees in the last minute. His arms were around me "I can't take it anymore, I just can't," he murmured in my hair. "I can't either," I sobbed. He understood. He kissed my face and shushed me. His touch was making me drunk, all of the pent up longing was breaking us both. I sighed miserably and pressed my body against his, smelling and feeling what I had been resisting since the moment we laid eyes on one another. His shoulders were big and took up much of the space in the tiny compartment. Rather than making me claustrophobic I welcomed the opportunity to blot out my guilt and my shame, to be absorbed by this man, my master, and let him decide. The space was growing damp and humid with our breathing and I felt him groan as he pressed the length of his full erection on me. Suddenly I understood the torture I had inflicted on him in the last days. I felt the jealousy and the conflict storming through his bloodstream and sensed the agony with which he had pursued other women that reminded him of me only to be disappointed. Oh so slowly he returned my halter top to its position around my waist. My breasts shook with each troubled breath that I drew. We were moaning together and I could feel my own intense moisture dripping down my buttocks and thighs. Without any pretense I spread my legs and he lifted me onto the edge of the sink. He twisted my skirt and suddenly uncovered my naked pussy for the first time. I thrust myself forward proudly for his approval. His entire expression and stance stiffened so quickly that I knew his aching cock and balls needed relief immediately. I braced myself for the first few inches of him. Our faces mirrored each other's amazement. He was big and I felt myself being spread too quickly but I begged him to continue. I wanted the pleasure and the pain. I forced myself forward onto his rock hard cock, steeling myself to take his full penis because I wanted to take care of his need like no other had. My tight cunt ached and massaged the length of his flexing penis. I came quickly and could hear the satisfaction that my vaginal contractions had on his raw cock. He began bucking so wildly that I opened my eyes to see the sweat flow down the sides of his face. But the bucking continued to get stronger and I realized that the plane itself was coming and jerking wildly. This is how I want to die I thought. He filled me up to the brim with cum. I stiffened my muscles with each of his strong contractions, sucking every last bit of juice from his shaft and sending wild shivers down both of our spines. He would never belong to anybody again so completely. In that moment I owned his mind and body and soul. As the plane continued wobbling and shaking he withdrew his wet cock and his sperm started to drain out of me into the small sink. We watched the river flowing steadily out of me in amazement. Tears or sweat were dripping down off my breasts and he bent his head to suckle them tenderly. I rested my wet cheek on the top of his head and laughed exhaustedly. His large fingers pushed themselves into my bruised pussy and he helped out the last of the cum. I came for the third time on his fingers and was so exhausted that I nearly cried. What are we going to do, I wanted to ask. But my legs were still spread and my vagina was a red throbbing invitation. He licked his fingers. I knew this wouldn't be the last time he would taste himself on me. Tris buckled his pants and discreetly left me to try and clean myself up. There was a light knocking at the door. It opened a crack and there was a hot washcloth held out with tongs. God bless that man, I thought to myself of Ken and I began wiping my pussy and thighs clean of all the evidence. One glance in the mirror confirmed that I still looked like a hot mess. With a heavy heart I made my way back to first class, convinced that there would be no denying the truth of what had happened. I squeezed past the man in the aisle seat, not even trying to conceal my fragrant female parts as I did so. Jack looked at my tear streaked face. "What's wrong," he exclaimed. "Did you get scared by the turbulence?" I just nodded and buried my face in his neck while he tried to console me. "I just got scared I would lose you," I managed to whisper and he understood. He put his arms around me and held me until I quieted down. When I was still and we were both looking out of the window he very slowly took my hand and led it under the blanket to cover his straining crotch. I stared at him. "When you were gone and there was turbulence, I realized how it was that I wanted to die." We walked hand in hand to the first class restroom. The inside was larger than in coach and there was a Iong mirror on the wall. With my back turned I stripped off my clothing for my husband and kept my knees locked tight together as he began to survey me with his hands. He carefully weighed each breast and then turned me sideways to appreciate the curve of my back and my round firm ass. When he wanted to explore my pussy I shook my head and kept my knees together but bent forward in front of him so that my asshole was spread. "Here," I said. I watched him in the mirror as he wet his fingers and slowly began to explore my little hole. His breathing became ragged as he supported my weight and gently stretched my ass for his cock. I cupped my breasts for him in the mirror, offering him one and then the other to tease him, while still bending over. "Take me," I begged, pushing my ass into his hand. I knew that in this position I could have told him to jump off the plane and he would have done it. Spreading my legs for support I felt him take his dominant position behind me and place his cock at the entrance of my rosebud. He held my hips and massaged them slowly. I began moaning immediately and the gentle swaying of the plane made movement almost unnecessary. He planted his feet firmly on either side of my hips and we locked eyes in the mirror. My breasts bounced cruelly and a strong bump sent us flying backwards onto the toilet where I spread my legs with his cock in my ass and began grinding around in tight circles and pinching my nipples for him in the mirror. It was too hot, he couldn't contain himself and I begged as he squirted his cum into me in several tight hot bursts. Feeling my own anal orgasm rising I continued to clamp onto his spent cock with all my might and burst out of my skin when he dug his fingers into my torn pussy. "You're so wet," he murmured grabbing onto my face and kissing the side of it. I allowed him to put me over his knee and clean me with water and paper towels of all the cum inside of my ass. He hadn't cum all day so there was a lot of it and his fingers lost themselves in my folds as it came out of me in little dribbles. "No panties," he tisked, "What a bad girl." He didn't know the half of it. I felt better, as if by sacrificing my body I could absolve the guilt. We kissed and he wouldn't let me out of the bathroom until he had sucked on my breasts until the milk came out—a true sign that I am over stimulated. He finished his "snack" and inspected me one last time for any trace of cum. Turbulence We passed Ken in the hallway and I refused to make eye contact. Returning to our seat we saw that our neighbor was once again asleep, a pillow over his head. "Look," Jack pointed silently to me. The man's pants strained with an erection and there were dribbles of fluid stain. I carefully avoided touching him and I sat with my head on Jack's should for the rest of the flight. We landed with no more incidence of turbulence and I sat between my two men in the taxi. My halter top was heading south, hanging onto the tips of my nipples and showing the pink but I didn't care. The driver kept eyeing me in the mirror and when we finally stopped he said to no one in particular, "I don't know who she belongs to, but he's a lucky man." I sighed. I was the lucky one. Turbulence [A/N: This is a sequel in spirit to one of my other stories, Two Views to a Bus Ride] The panels on the luggage compartments rattled and the seatbelt sign lit up. I loved turbulence, and I loved these small turboprops that get thrown around like a child's toy. My heart stopped as the plane sank rapidly, but not because I was afraid. --- The lights flickered and she fell right into my lap. "There's too much turbulence, I can't get back to my seat. You'll have to hold on!" she said with more enthusiasm than a stewardess should in this position. She pulled my arms around her waist and settled into my lap. Was this actually protocol? It didn't matter -- the plane was lurching in all directions and I was starting to get nervous. I was more nervous for my wife Sarah. The slightest bump made her airsick. Any of my own nerves were calmed by the gorgeous woman who had fallen into my lap. She ran her hands over mine, as if she were frightened as well. I started enjoying the feeling of her fingers, her soft caresses a thank you for keeping her safe. I felt a pang of guilt. I should have been comforting my wife, but I was holding this stewardess tight instead. It was a chivalry thing -- I was enjoying keeping such a beauty safe in my arms. Perhaps "getting off on" was a more appropriate term than "enjoying." The feeling of holding her, her fingers reciprocating my touch, her rear in that tight skirt, pressing right into me. Then, that familiar tingling down there. I felt myself grow just a little. Control yourself! This is a delicate situation. But every bump pushed her right against my crotch. When the plane would take a quick dive, inertia kept her hands in place so that they would position themselves over her chest. Of course, her hands dragged mine along, thrusting the bottoms of her breasts into my palms. I hoped she didn't notice that I was cupping her tits, even though it was her own damned fault. I also hoped she didn't notice that I was getting harder with every bounce of the plane. Name the '97 Marlins, the elements of the periodic table, anything! No good. I bit my lip and hoped the bastard would obey, but when has that ever happened in any guy's life? It only got worse. The stewardess bounced harder along with the plane, practically grinding against me now. Her hands went ever higher so that I was nearly full-on groping her with every spike of turbulence, but she kept my hands firmly in her grip. She must feel it, I thought, she's nearly forcing my hands into her chest. The plane rattled again, giving me another handful of her through her navy jacket and white blouse. Her ass slid up and down my semi-erect member too gracefully, coaxing it to expand further up the length of her rear. I looked over at Sarah. She stared back with a look on her face that was half exasperation and half imminent airsickness. I turned my head away like a dog that knew it was about to be punished. There was nothing I could do now -- I was nearly fully erect and still going. Well, there was one thing, which was pray that the stewardess was frightened enough to be oblivious or very forgiving. A sexual harassment suit was not the way to kick off our honeymoon. --- God, these are the flights I live for. I probably would have been fine to go back to the cabin, but no harm in being extra safe, right? Safety first, especially when safety involves sitting in the lap of the best looking guy on the plane. Once the captain made the announcement that the turbulence would not be over anytime soon, I decided to take this thing as far as it would go. With each shake of the plane, I gave him more. Sometimes, I would grab the headrest of the seat in front of me to give me enough leverage to grind against him harder than a stripper desperate for tips. I was done with letting him brush my chest lightly; now I was crushing his palms into my breasts. My nipples started to poke out. Once, I flicked his thumbs against them, then I curled his fingers so they enclosed my flesh, letting his hands rest there for far too long. I let out a titter of fake embarrassment and pushed his hands back down to my waist. I felt pressure building against my ass little by little with each stroke until I was sitting on a thick steel rod that ran up to my lower back. I wish I could have watched him trying to hold back -- it must have looked so cute. Poor guy probably thought that I would slap him, or that the girl next to him who looked like his fiancée would. A few weeks ago, I impressed myself by giving some old-timer a raging hard-on. However, feeling the arousal of this dark-haired knockout against me was far more satisfying. I had only tried this a few times before and this was the first I managed to bag a guy I would have dropped my skirt for at first sight. In fact, I had only gotten the idea from my sister the last time I saw her. She let me in on a little secret about her sex life, how she started to get into teasing guys on her bus ride home. The stories she told were incredibly hot. Well, we both always did have a little bit of an exhibitionist streak in us. And here I was, trying to recreate one of her stories, a real life fantasy. I had to keep going, so I ever so slightly hiked up my skirt every time I bounced in the guy's lap. Before long, I could feel the bare skin of my thighs against his pants. He was squirming around in his seat now and I felt the pressure getting even greater. It was impressive he could get any harder. But it was delicious. I needed to see his face. There was a slight break in the turbulence, which allowed me to stand up. The seat belt light was still on so I knew there was more to come. I flicked the outer armrest up and said: "Thank you for being so cooperative, sir." --- Thank God that was over, I thought, hoping she wasn't looking at the bulge in my pants she had created. Before I had time to take a breath, though, the plane rocked back and forth and the stewardess was thrown forward violently. She crashed into me again, but forwards this time, one leg straddling the aisle side of my seat and the other landing knee-first in the gap for the middle armrest. Predictably, her crotch drove straight into mine after one soft breast broke her fall on my face. "I'm gonna be sick, Michael!" Sarah moaned as she reached for my hand. The jolt set her off, but there was more than one thing for her to be sick about. Fortunately, she had been holding the barf bag in anticipation. "Sir, for safety, you'll have to hold me in place," the stewardess said as she wrapped my free arm around her waist and hugged my shoulders, anchoring her to me. She looked almost a bit jealous now that I was holding my wife's hand. "Looks like we'll have to ride this out together. Sorry for the inconvenience, sir." This was the only instance I could imagine right now where having her in my lap would be an inconvenience. Sarah squeezed my hand and I peered over at her retching into the bag. When I turned back, I was staring down the stewardess's blouse, her cleavage peaking out of a rather translucent pink bra. No, that wasn't right, she definitely didn't have that many buttons undone before. She had to be fucking with me. My thought processes were interrupted by the plane again as the stewardess fell forward, making her crotch rub up and down my bulge. This time wasn't as forceful -- instead her head snapped forward slightly and our lips pushed together awkwardly. I stayed still, but I heard a tiny smack and felt a little suction as she pulled away and grinned sheepishly. Did she really just accidentally kiss me? Another jolt a second later threw my face into her cleavage. When she pulled back, she nonchalantly undid the next button on her blouse. Holy fuck! She was fucking with me. No, she wanted to fuck me. Her hips moved against mine slowly, but freely now, not disguising their intentions by going along with the motions of the airplane. What to do? What is anyone supposed to do in this situation? Should I just let it take its course, tell her to meet me in the bathroom when the turbulence was over so I could fuck her brains out? I certainly wanted to, but another squeeze from Sarah's hand snapped me back. Once we landed and made one more connection, we'd be in Hawaii on our honeymoon, fucking 'til dawn every day. Just a few more hours to wait and I'd be making love to my own stunning woman for a week straight. Of course, I really did love Sarah, and not just for the sex. Really, I'm not a womanizer. It's just hard not to look like a cheater when you're staring down the shirt of some curvy, leggy stewardess throwing herself all over you. And she was still rubbing against me like it was standard practice at a time like this. Once more, she flew forward. Her bra was fully exposed now and my face pressed into it. Her soft, firm breasts were incredible even through the pink material. Her nipples were clearly standing out now, arousing me even more. I felt myself leak a little bit, making me realize that I was actually nearing orgasm. Whose safety was really at stake now, hers or mine? My head ached with guilt, but my member ached with need. --- It was time for the big move. Everything had fallen into place -- he was no doubt hornier than he could handle, she was preoccupied with emptying the contents of her stomach into a paper bag, and the people across from us had their blinders on, still making a futile attempt at sleep. I slid back a little bit to pinch the tab on his zipper. The look of confused arousal he wore was replaced by a scowl. He whispered: "Stop." He had some sense of humor. It was far too late to stop. I wanted to talk him down so much right now, remind him how much he needed me and how hard he was. With his girlfriend or wife or whoever she was next to us, though, I settled with mouthing, hoping he could read my lips in the flickering light: "Nice try, but I know you need to cum so bad." His pants jutted out at the crotch from his massive erection, forcing the zipper into a curved shape. I pulled the tab down until it hit the tip of the curve, then his hand wrapped around my wrist. I had one more free hand than he did, though, and he realized he had no choice. My other hand continued the course until his fly opened to reveal his boxers, which tented out of his pants and were dappled with precum. Seeing this made me even more excited. I gave him a quick squeeze and another wet spot formed on the fabric. I dripped with anticipation as I pulled the fold of his underwear back to expose his shaft. It glistened with its own lubrication, red and twitching. Seeing what I had done to him was too much. I slid forward so that the front of my skirt covered his crotch. The back was still hiked up, though, so his dick soon met my cotton panties. I slid my hand into the folds of my skirt and plunged it into my panties. That look of confused arousal returned -- my fingers were working hard getting me off while they pushed the material of my panties against his cock. I felt it continue twitching against my fingers, occasionally releasing drops of precum that soaked into both our garments. I was already the horniest I'd ever been, and that only made it more so. I ignored him as mouthed: "No. Stop." My fingers slid in and out, they pleased my clit, bringing me closer. My knuckles teased the underside of his dick through my panties, and now it was jerking around so much that it was slapping itself against my hand. He looked broken and dazed, as if his protests were just token now. Then he mouthed something that threw me over the edge: "Please let me cum." My pussy convulsed in a short but intense orgasm, like it knew this was a prelude. I bit my lip to muffle a little moan. --- Can I ever tell Sarah I'm sorry? I let the stewardess win. She even had me silently begging to cum. If only I had pushed her off me like a faithful man. But would she have made a scene anyway? It doesn't mean shit now anyway, she won. There she was, playing with herself so that her fingers would just lightly tease my dick until I was about to explode. God, where did she pick that up from? Finally, her weight shifted and the feeling of her panties was replaced by warmth and moistness. She had pushed her panties aside -- my cock was touching her bare pussy. Her previous grinding motion resumed. Her lips slid up and down the length of my shaft, covering it in her juices. Maybe she would keep going until I came and we could be done with it. My balls felt as if they would burst. Just as they tightened in preparation, she sat still. This was becoming excruciating. "Please let me cum," I mouthed again. I still couldn't believe I was begging, but I don't doubt anyone would've done the same at this point. She leaned toward me, nibbled on my earlobe gently, and licked my ear. Her tongue probed until she pulled it back and breathed. She whispered to me. It would have sounded sultry from anyone else, but from her it sounded like a hiss: "Take me...if you want to cum." --- Silly little boy. Unlike my other victims, I wanted to fuck him the second I sat in his lap. But when he made it clear how desperate he was to cum, I couldn't help but play with him. He looked like he was still processing my request, his eyes glazed over in arousal. I just kept rubbing myself on his dick. I had to stop every once in a while when I felt him tense up. When that happened, I would lean toward him and listen to his heart. His member throbbed between my legs every time it beat. He was getting restless and forcing his hips against mine, trying to cum. I started holding him down to keep my pace. Having his shaft sliding over my lips and against my clit was driving me crazy. Damn, he was practically teasing me at this point. I decided to speed things up. "If you don't put it in, you'll regret it forever," I whispered in his ear. "If you want to cum, just take me." --- I don't know how it slipped in! I mean, I was grinding against her, trying to get myself off. I would be a little more innocent if I didn't actually fuck her, right? But I'm pretty sure I was sitting still when it went in. She must have put it in. I froze up when it slid in. My member, though, breathed a sigh of relief. It was tormented by her heat, so close to bliss but unable to find it. It strained with animalistic instinct, wondering why its owner would let it so close to what it needed yet deny that need. Until, at last, the head burrowed inside, resting for a moment until the shaft followed. The turbulence sent vibrations through the seat, causing my cock to pulsate inside her. The feeling was amazing even though we both sat completely still. --- Finally, he's inside me. So I'm fucking this stud on an airplane next to his fiancée, no less, half against his will. When did I become such a sick pervert? I probably would have thought that if I weren't overcome with lust. It was liberating -- job, common decency, respect, dignity, out the window. All you need is sex. Michael, that's what she called him, right? Well, Michael was mine right now! I pulled my jacket closed with one hand so that it wouldn't be obvious that my bra was exposed. With the other, I took the airbag from Michael's chair and reached over to where he and his girl clasped hands and pulled them apart. I stuffed the bag in her open hand. "Fresh bag, ma'am?" My question was a command. "Oh, thanks." She put her bag down and opened the new one with two hands, immediately stuffing her face in it. Some twisted adrenaline rush! I had just talked to this guy's girlfriend while he was inside me, right in front of her! We couldn't have been closer, either -- my left leg sat in the armrest gap, pressed against hers. My mind went wild. Would she ever find out? Did she actually know? What would it be like to know your boyfriend had fucked some slut right in front of you? My mind settled as I took his hand that previously held his girlfriend's and wrapped it around my waist. You're mine, Michael. --- She was fucking me now, slowly but steadily, taking care that our thighs didn't slap together or that one of us moaned in ecstasy. Our hips didn't move that far apart, but it didn't matter. Just being inside her was enough to set me off, especially with the vibrations from the turbulence. She rocked back and forth and when the turbulence hit, she used it as an excuse to kiss me. Her tongue shot into my mouth and swirled around mine. Her pussy was throbbing -- she was cumming. Good timing, too, as a particularly violent gust hit the plane. The lights went out momentarily. I couldn't handle any more. I pulled her hips against mine hard, sinking in as deep as I could, while our tongues remained locked. We moaned into each others' mouths as her pussy squeezed my shaft in its last throes of orgasm. My hips bucked and an overwhelming pressure built then shot into her. Then again, and again. I had never cum so hard. Then again, I had never had such exhilarating sex. She collapsed onto me as she milked the last few drops, whispering: "God, that was the best fuck I've ever had." I had to agree. She straightened up and the lights came on as the plane steadied. My dick managed to remain erect inside her for a few moments, and I was a little sad when it shriveled and withdrew from her, just as I was when she buttoned her shirt. A voice came over the intercom and announced that we had made it through the turbulence. The seatbelt light turned off and reality rushed back in. The stewardess stood up and walked off without a word. Our juices had mixed and dripped out of her, coating my member and pooling in the crotch of my pants. Sarah looked up from the bag now that the lights were on and the stewardess was gone, turning toward me. I was sitting speechless, my dick shrinking into the pool of fluids. "Michael?" Turbulence From back in the galley, I heard the "ding" of the intercom and the captain's voice come on. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking... we're about to come across some turbulence... it's nothing to worry about, but things might get a little bumpy. I'm gonna go ahead and turn on the 'fasten seatbelt' sign... please remain seated until otherwise notified. Thanks so much, we'll be out of this as soon as we can." Then the flight deck phone rang, and the captain told us the same thing. "It's gonna get kind of rough... you guys go ahead and strap in too." "Sure thing," I replied, and hung up the phone. My coworker, Amy, went to do a quick cabin check while I made sure that everything in the galley was secure. The captain wasn't kidding. Within a minute, the plane hit a pocket of air, and I was almost knocked off my feet. I quickly shut the little curtain between the galley and the cabin, folded the jump seat down, and strapped myself in. The phone rang again and I reached over to grab it. "You okay back there, Sadie?" It was Amy, calling from one of the cabin phones. "Yeah. Are you?" "Yep. I managed to get into one of the passenger seats; I'm going to stay here until it's safe to move." "OK." I hung the phone up and, just in case, quickly did a 30-second review: how many people were on board, where the exits were, evacuation commands, stuff like that. When that was done, I tried to readjust myself in the harness, since I'd sat down so quickly. The seatbelts were supposed to be worn tight: two over my shoulders that buckled into a lap belt across my hips. It was kind of uncomfortable, and it didn't help that I was a little on edge due to the turbulence. I mean, I knew we were safe, but you never know. I tugged on the bottom of my blazer to straighten it out. One of the reasons I hated these seats was that I was a little on the taller side, and the shoulder straps always seemed to press directly against my breasts. They weren't digging in but it added to the discomfort. I wriggled in my seat a little and thanked the powers that be that I wasn't wearing a skirt today; with my legs slightly spread I finally managed to find a somewhat comfortable position. I sat up straight and sighed. This sucked. There was nobody to talk to as Amy was stuck in the cabin, and on top of that, the constant vibration from the turbulence was starting to make me squirm again, but in a different way. I was nearing the end of my schedule, and it'd been so damn long since I'd been able to even have the privacy to get myself off. None of my roommates lately happened to share my sexual preferences either. There seemed to be plenty of gay flight attendants, but lesbians were few and far between. I didn't know how much longer I could take it without coming one way or another. The plane bounced a little again, and with it came a slight tingling between my legs. "Am I really that desperate?" I thought; this had never happened before. Since there was no one around I idly reached down and brushed my right hand between my legs, hoping to alleviate some of the feeling. It only made it worse. Damn, that had felt nice. I reached inside my blazer and traced the curve of my left breast through my blouse, enjoying the feel of the crisp pressed fabric against the top of it. My breasts were about average (if you must know, around 38C), and usually I didn't get much from messing around with them, but there was something about having the shoulder belts pressed against me that was turning me on to no end. I slipped a finger under the belt and across my nipple, finding that it was already starting to get hard. I groaned under my breath and removed my hand. "I really shouldn't be doing this," I thought. "But then again, I need it so bad... and nobody can come back here right now..." "Screw it," I decided, and put my right hand back between my legs. Nervously I started to stroke myself through my uniform pants. At least at this point, if anyone caught me, I'd still be fully dressed. "Oh, God," I whispered as the turbulence got a little harder. I ground a couple of fingers into what I hoped was my clit and started making slow circles. I shut my eyes and tried to make myself think that I was the only one on the plane, that nobody else was there, how good it would feel to finally get release... Pleasure coursed its way through me and I squirmed on the seat, trying as hard as I possibly could not to moan. Under the lap belt, I managed to at least unbutton my pants and slide my index and middle fingers inside them. Damn, I was already getting wet, and my labia swelled up as I caressed myself lightly through my panties. I prayed that my juices wouldn't soak through my pants; I discovered I was wetter than I thought when I boldly pushed the crotch of my panties aside and ran a finger over my clit. I couldn't help it. I had never been more turned on in my life. I hadn't ever been tied up or anything either, but the simple act of sitting there, in my uniform, masturbating in a jump seat, was turning out to be one of the most erotic things I'd ever done. I let a low moan slip out. My other hand raced across my breasts; I could now feel my nipples creating friction against the shoulder belt as my body continued to vibrate. The plane hit another pocket of air; I bit my tongue and rapidly slid my fingers across myself through the dripping wetness. I was more of a clit kind of person than shoving things up me, and besides, I didn't want to make a bigger mess than I already was, so I kept my fingers in that area. As I continued to stroke, my already swollen clit grew harder, which made it easier for me to circle around it and flick it with my fingertips. I was starting to get close. "Ohhh, please, don't stop," I prayed under my breath to the turbulence. I shut my eyes again, and for some reason the first person that crossed my mind was my coworker. I thought of Amy sitting up there in one of the passenger seats, with only a lap belt; I wondered how the turbulence felt through her skirt, imagined what it would look like if she had grabbed a blanket from one of the overhead bins earlier and was having at herself through the pantyhose, feeling the silkiness of the hose against her thighs, feeling the wetness dripping down her legs... "Oh, fuck," I muttered a little too loud. I was going to come. Giving the state of my uniform to fate, I refastened my pants and fingered my pussy as hard as I could through my dark navy pants. The waves of pleasure weren't stopping now, and it seemed that the turbulence was reaching a climax as well. I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to have an orgasm. Then it happened. "Oh... shit....oh my god... fuck, I'm coming...", I moaned through gritted teeth. All of a sudden she was standing there. "Amy!" I literally squealed in shock. The plane shuddered violently one final time, but for the longest moment of my life. I bucked against the harness, hand furiously working between my thighs, stifling moans as I came the hardest that I had in a long time. I screwed my eyes shut one final time and the world turned white. Somewhere in that moment, I heard the other harness click shut next to me, and lips pressed against my own as I let out a long breath and relaxed my body. "Next time let me know if you're going to do something like that, ok?" she whispered in my ear as the cabin dinged once again and the captain shut the seatbelt sign off.