13 comments/ 172653 views/ 22 favorites Stewardess By: soccermomcheryl I am a 40 year old typical soccer mom who leads a pretty conventional life. My stories are based on my fantasies. Most deal with the humiliation of older women by younger women, in the style of my favorite authors such as Cowgirl, Couture, Phoenix Arrow and Jane Parks. This is my second story I hope you enjoy it. I'd enjoy any constructive criticism. Contact me at the address in my profile. * Irritated, I sit thumbing through the latest issue of Cosmo, wondering why they haven't started boarding the damn plane yet. It's already 15 minutes late for takeoff. Being a stewardess and all, I should be used to this, it seems these days more often than not there is some type of delay. But now, I've just finished a week long shift to the Far East, and I'm anxious to get home to my New York apartment. But now a mere two hour flight from home, I'm stuck in piece of shit airport in Cincinnati. It's noon time, and except for the few passengers stranded with me, the terminal is nearly deserted, I just hope they don't cancel my flight, I can't stand being here for another minute. Looking around, the passengers waiting around for the flight, like me look mostly bored and irritated. You know, the typical business man type guy, the kind of guy who hits on me all the time at work. Geeze am I bored with their feeble attempts to pick me up, always the same jokes. I'm professional, polite, but definitely not interested. They aren't my type. Not that I don't like a good hard dick now and then, but they aren't in my class. Me, I'm 22 years old, an only child. My mother was Korean, and my father French. I was lucky; I got the best of both worlds in the looks department. I'm tall, 5.9" with long jet black straight hair, shapely legs, a nice ass and 36c breasts with not yet starting to sag. I exude a sex appeal that's irresistible to anyone, I don't deny it. I'm a sexy bitch, yes I admit it. I use my looks to get what I want, what the fuck, if you have it, use it right? Glancing up from my magazine, I spy a woman busily working on her laptop. She's probably about 40 years old, not bad looking. She's blonde, 5'6", wearing a gray business suit, cream colored blouse. She's a typical working Milf. I'm sure she's happily living in the suburbs with 2.2 children. She on the other hand, IS my type. It would probably take me about 2 minutes to have her kneeling between my legs begging to lick me. I just have this sixth sense; I can tell them when I see them. They look all prim and proper, but deep down inside, in a place they can't even admit to themselves, there is a depraved slut, just waiting to be released. And believe you me, I'm just the one to release it, in fact that's my specialty. Why do I take women like that, and use and degrade them? Make them my bitch; make them forsake everything that's near and dear to them, just for a chance to worship me? I don't know. You might say I'm just a cruel sadistic bitch, and you might be right. I however don't think that's it, I actually have a deep caring, dare I say love for my conquests. It's not sadism or cruelty, that drives me to humiliate and degrade these women. It's just that...well it just turns me on to no end, when someone will do anything, and I do mean ANYTHING just to have a chance to worship my body. It's the ultimate feeling of power! MMMMM it's making me wet just thinking about it. The more unlikely the target the more it turns me on. I guess that's why those prim and proper middle aged ladies are my favorite targets. Oh well, the plane should board soon, so I won't have any time to capture this one. But I couldn't help testing it out a bit. Pretending to read my magazine, but really glancing at my prey through my sunglasses, I slowly uncrossed my legs and re-crossed them placing my right leg over my left. This simple act instantaneously confirmed my suspicions about her. Although she still had her computer on her lap, I noticed her facial expression change just a brief flash as I crossed my legs. My radar detected a look, one of pure lust, for a brief instant that quickly evaporated. But that was enough for me. I could sense her internal struggle. Women like this always fought their feelings at first; they were shocked that a professional woman like they considered themselves could feel such a strong sexual stirring for another woman. After they would tell themselves, they're not a lesbian, no far from it. That's why it's so much more fun when I finally break them. Absentmindedly, I began rubbing my right shoe (sensible black flat's, you no the kind all of us stewardesses wear), up and down my thigh. I notice my prey's work was long forgotten as she studied my movements. "Attention passengers, of flight 268 to Kennedy airport. The flight will be delayed due to mechanical difficulty. The new scheduled departure time is 3:30," came the announcement over the PA system. The few passengers waiting all seemed to groan in unison. Shit, I thought to myself, I knew this would happen. Hmmm, on the other hand, this might give me some time to put my theory about this woman to the test. I crossed and uncrossed my legs several times over the next few minutes, confirming I defiantly had an audience. Hmmm, now to draw my prey a bit closer I thought. Standing up to stretch, I turned facing away from her and facing my seat, bending forward to retrieve something from my purse. I didn't even need to look, I could just feel her eyes boring in on my sweet ass. As I stood back up, I casually flipped my stewardess cap from my head, as if it "accidentally" fell off. It landed about 2 feet away from me. I pretended not to notice it had fallen and went back to pretending I was interested in my magazine. This was in fact a test for her. Would she ignore my hat on the floor, tell me I dropped it, or was my little game about to begin? If this was indeed a test, she looked like freshman college student taking and advanced calculus test. I could almost feel the struggle she was going through. Finally, almost shyly she got off her seat, walked over and retrieved the hat. She then took a step closer to me. I pretended to be enthralled in the magazine and didn't acknowledge her presence in any way. She was less than 2 feet away from me, but I acted like she wasn't there as I continued to read. She cleared her throat, which I ignored. Finally after what must've seemed like an hour to her, she said in a nervous voice "Excuse me." Once again I was testing her. I pretended to absentmindedly adjust my skirt, but what I was really doing was giving her a brief flash of the treasure contained inside. Her stifled gasp confirmed that my game was proceeding according to plan. I smiled to my self. I could almost imagine her internal struggle. Why was she a successful confident business woman, standing there like a confused child? I knew the answer to that question, even if she couldn't admit it to herself, she was so drawn in by my sexuality, that she'd bear anything just to be close to it. Finally I turned deliberately and looked at her over the tops of my sunglasses. I gave her my best bitch look. A look that said, what makes you think that you a fat middle aged woman (she really isn't that fat, but they always think they are), deserve to be breathing in the same air as me. "Ummm...ummm...you dropped your hat," she stuttered holding it to me. I almost burst out laughing but instead said in an annoyed tone, "Well what do you want some kind of metal? Just put it on the chair next to me, and go run and play like a good little girl." I could see her shoulders slump down and her head drop as she started her walk of shame back to her seat. Hmmm maybe I went too far, I thought to myself. It was time to reel her back in. As she stood by her chair, she began to gather her belongings, looking like a criminal trying to flea the scene of a crime. "We'll see," I thought. "I'm sorry Miss that was rude of me," I said to her. "You were just trying to be helpful." I watched as she turned and looked at me, I could see her posture relax a bit. "It's just that I'm so annoyed with this delay. I just finished a 12 hour stewardess shift; I've been on my feet for hours. My back hurts, my legs are tired, and my damn feet are killing me, but it's not your fault." I could see the relief wash across her face as she almost apologized to me, "Its ok we're all annoyed." "Hmmm, this might be easier than I thought it would be," I thought to myself. It was time to start putting this bitch through her paces. With legs still crossed right over left, I extended my right leg out towards her stretching it. She did her best not to notice, but I could feel her eyes roaming up and down my leg. It was Time for stage 2. "What I could really use is a good foot rub," I said casually as I wiggled my foot and looked right at her. I could almost hear the gears turning in her brain, trying to process this information. The look of confusion as well as conflict in her eyes was priceless, it makes me wet all over again just thinking about it.. I could almost read her thoughts. "Was she asking me to rub her feet, what makes her think I'd do that?" But deep down inside, I knew she was using every last ounce of self control not to run over to my feet. As she stood contemplating her next move, I said in an irritated voice, "Oh, just forget it never mind." The look of despair that crossed her face told me all I needed to know. She was mine. It was decision time for her, "OK, I'll do it." "No forget about it, you obviously don't want to, forget I even asked," I teased. "B...But I do want to," in spite of herself. "Well..., I acted like I was thinking it over, "Are you sure you REALLY want to?" I noticed her gulp, "Yes." Then teasing once again, I already told you I'm a bitch. I just couldn't resist, "Well maybe if you were to ask me nicely." I held my breath, awaiting the response I was sure was going to come. "Please, I...I'd like to massage your feet for you, ok?" was my little pet's response. "Hurry up then, I don't have all day", I said impatiently. This time she didn't hesitate, she walked over to me. Unsure of what to do, she stood shyly in front of me, and removed my right shoe. As she began to rub my foot through my navy blue stocking, I uncrossed my leg moving my foot over and down, until she had no choice but to kneel down in front of me. I rewarded her, by parting my legs slightly giving her a glance at my pink lace thong. An almost inaudible groan escaped from her throat, which confirmed I was having the proper effect. I could also notice her little headlights poking out through her blouse. I picked up my magazine and began to read, as she continued to work on my foot. Glancing around the room, I noticed this odd sight was attracting the attention of the other waiting passengers. "Look, I think we have an audience," I mentioned loudly. She looked around, and her face turned bright red being seen in this humiliating position. "Don't forget the other one." She moved over to my left foot, which was sitting on the floor, and tried to lift it so she could remove my shoe. I didn't make it easy for her, and giggled as she struggled to lift my foot off the floor. She finally removed it and began to massage my left foot. "My feet must smell awful, I've been walking around in these shoes for hours," as I said this I took my right foot and pressed the bottom of it right over her face covering her mouth and nose. I giggled with glee as she continued to try and message my left foot while I tormented her with the other one. Of course she didn't complain as she was getting quite a good look up my skirt. The foot rub was fun, but I was getting a bit bored so I figured it was time to see just how depraved she could get. I spread my legs further to give her a really good view, and she was unabashedly staring at my cute pink thong. "HEY, YOU'RE STARING UP MY DRESS, WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU PERVERT?" I shouted kicking her hard, and she fell backward sprawling out on the floor. Everyone in the terminal turned to see the commotion. Even brighter red now, she struggled to get back up. As she started to walk away with everyone staring, I cleared my throat, "Forgetting something?" She turned back to look at me questioningly, despite her embarrassment, I could tell she was a complete bitch in heat. "My shoes silly," I giggled. With everyone's eyes on her, she walked back to me knelt back down and started putting my shoes on. God this is even easier than I thought it would be. As she was putting my shoes back on, I leaned forward and whispered to her, "Sorry for freaking out like that, you just caught me by surprise, you look so prim and proper I had no idea you were such a slut. Besides, everyone is looking at us here," I said as I began pet her head as if she was the family dog. I feigned thoughtfulness for a minute, "I guess I don't mind in principal a slutty old lady getting all hot and bothered just from looking up my dress. Actually, in some perverse way it's kind of flattering." I could see a bit of hopefulness in her eyes. "Would you like to get a better look?" With a look of pure lust she just nodded her head. I gave her my best look of disbelief "Well, I suppose an old cow like you needs to get her jollies somehow, come with me to the bathroom where we can have some privacy." I got up and walked quickly towards the bathroom as she hurried to catch up with me. When she caught up, I turned to her, "Listen, if I'm going to give you this treat, it will be on my terms, you must agree to do everything I say. If you don't agree then forget about the whole thing, understand?" She croaked, "Yes, I understand." "OK then let's put this to the test," I said as we continued to walk. "Unbutton your shirt all the way." "Right here...I can't someone might see, I could get in trouble," came her meek reply. I stopped in my tracks, "Then leave," I said pointing in the other direction. "No wait, OK...OK," she whined and started unbuttoning her blouse. After she finished unbuttoning, I turned looking at her bra covered breasts, "Geeze what a fat cow you are, look at those giant udders." I just couldn't resist I reached inside her bra, and pulled her tits right by the nipples until they popped out of her bra. "There that's better, now come with me." As we reached the bathroom door, I took her hand. I smiled sweetly at her and said, "I'm glad you decided to come with me. Only because I really do have to pee and now I won't have to use that airport toilet paper. I hate it, it feels like sandpaper." A look of horror crossed her face as the realization of what I just said hit her. Before she could protest, I led her into the handicapped stall of the bathroom. "OK lose the clothes slut," I said impatiently. "In here?" I can't," she said. "Goodbye then slut," was my reply. "No, no, OK," she said and removed her already unbuttoned shirt, and looked around for a place to put it. "We don't have time to be all neat and tidy, just throw that stupid shit on the floor." With a look of horror she threw her shirt on the dirty bathroom floor. Did I detect a tear in her eye? Oh god this was too good to be true. As she unzipped her skirt and let it slide off, I walked around her and stood directly on her discarded shirt. "At least now I have somewhere to stand slut, this floor is filthy," I taunted her. "Hurry up cunt, I don't have all day," I prodded her, as she removed her bra. "Oh god look at those udders." She then slid her pantyhose off, leaving her standing in just her conservative white mommy panties. "Wait, stand there a second let me take a look," I ordered. As she stood before me, I bent down and noticed with satisfaction that her crotch was soaking wet. "Ewwwww your gross, look at that nasty cunt juice all over you. You're such a pig." "Well hurry up remove those disgusting things", I told her as she as she slid her panties off. Actually throw those disgusting things out of this stall, I don't want them anywhere near me. She let out a whimper, but did as I told her. Now, put your hands behind your head, I want to examine you to see if you're worthy to lick me." I began to poke and prod her like a piece of meat in the butcher shop. "Hold those tits out, display them for me," I ordered. As she began to lift them up from underneath, I chastised her, "No stupid, pull them by the nipples." "Pull them farther bitch," I commanded. As she pulled them out hard, she whimpered a bit. I continued my examination. "Spread those fat thighs out." As she spread her legs apart, I prodded her, "Farther bitch.". She spread her legs out farther, and I bent down to examine her swollen wet cunt. Her excitement was obvious; she was completely wet with slut juice starting to run down her legs. "God you're gross," I told her, and without warning, I roughly rammed 3 fingers up her cunt. She groaned loudly and tried to hump my fingers. "Stop that you pig, stand still," I ordered removing my fingers. I then took my fingers out and cleaned them off in her hair. "Well you're not much to look at, but I guess you'll do, get down on your hands and knees." As she knelt down, I felt a spasm of satisfaction in my cunt seeing her kneel so submissively on the disgusting airport bathroom floor. I lead her to the toilet, "The seat's dirty, please clean it for me." A look of horror and disgust crossed her face when she realized what I meant. "Well, you don't expect me to put my ass on that thing before its cleaned do you?" I laughed out loud, as she began her task. As tears flowed down her cheeks, she began to lick the toilet seat. When my slut completed this task, I examined the seat. "Well you did do a good job, but I still don't want to sit directly on that gross thing, hand me your shirt so I can cover it." Taking the shirt, I covered the seat, not too concerned that part of the shirt was sitting in the toilet water. Lowering my panties, and hiking my skirt up, I sat down on my now prepared throne. She sat right in front of me practically drooling with the view of my neatly trimmed pussy. "You like that bitch?" I asked. "Yes," came her immediate reply. "Want to lick it slut?" I teased. "Yes," she once again said with enthusiasm. "Beg me," I ordered. "Please, please, please let me lick you," she begged. "Well, I don't know," I teased, "If I give you this treat, what will do for me?" "Anything," came her instant reply, and I knew it was true. "OK, slut, stick your tongue out, but don't you dare lick until I say so," I ordered. She instantly stuck her tongue out. I held her face a couple of inches from my pussy. She looked so cute there with her tongue sticking out. I had her just where I wanted her. Without warning, I let out a stream of pee, which sprayed her right in the face. Holding her tightly, I continued painting her face and open mouth with my pee. After my stream let up, I ordered. "OK clean me bitch." She immediately went to work licking me clean. I held her mouth tightly against me and let out the last few squirts directly into her mouth. "Oh god keep licking me bitch"...and before long I felt an intense orgasm building. I pulled her by the back of the head, using her face as my personal masturbation toy until I burst into an earth shattering orgasm; I continued to grind her face into my crotch until my orgasm was complete. I pushed her away, and began to put myself back together. "Wow I never knew older woman could be such sluts." I then flushed the toilet, and got up opening the stall door. "Well I should be going now." I wish I had a camera to record the look of disappointment on her face. There she was all sticky and messed up, she looked like a cute little stray pup. Stewardess in the Good Old Days In the early 1970s, before pantyhose replaced stockings, I had a neat experience on a local commuter airline. Shortly after boarding one morning, I seated myself in an aisle seat where I knew I would have a nice view of the stewardesses. On this flight, there was one particularly beautiful stew--a Chinese woman in her mid-20s, about 5'7", trim, and slender legs. Her name was Lynn. Her uniform consisted of an off-white, knee-length dress, coffee-colored hose, and 2" heels. As Lynn walked down the aisle checking to see whether everyone was seated properly, I couldn't take my eyes off her tightly-fitting dress that showed a hint of what she wore underneath. She must have had a thin slip, or no slip, because her white garter straps and dark stocking tops, as well as her panty lines showed through. The bumps of her garter tabs were quite visible against the smooth surface of her dress. Whenever she reached up to check the overhead bins, her dress rode up to reveal the dark tops of her stockings, but not quite her thighs. When she walked past my seat, I made sure my arm stuck out a little on the armrest. Sure enough, her nylon-clad leg brushed against my arm, sending an electrical charge up to my head. Mercifully, we took off shortly after. I chose my seat well. She sat up ahead in the stew's chairs facing the rear. I had a clear view of her as she sat during takeoff. The gorgeous view of her legs sheathed in coffee toned nylons sure beat the scenery outside. As she crossed her legs and recrossed them, I could almost hear the distinct sound of nylons. There were many tantalizing views of her stockings as her dress rode up enough to provide glimpses up her thighs. In the middle of the short flight, she came down the aisle serving juice, soda, and water. As she approached me, the plane must have hit an air pocket as it dropped suddenly, sending Lynn tumbling backward onto the aisle. She couldn't keep her balance and fell on the floor, legs splayed all over--with all the drinks spilling onto her. For a moment, she sat bewildered with her left leg stretched out, her right knee up, and her thin white dress soaked through. I unstrapped my seat buckle, got up, and walked toward her, when we hit another air pocket. I fell forward and ended up with my head between her legs, driving up her dress hem way beyond her dark stocking tops. My left hand rested on her right leg, while my right hand was on her left thigh--right on her white garter straps. I looked right into her sheer white panties, the fair skin of her upper thighs exposed above her long, sheer stockings which extended way up to her crotch. When I saw the distinct light edge of her dark stockings, I knew I had a rare treat. She was wearing those old Hanes stockings, the sheer non-stretch kind that's hard to find today. I also recognized the color--Gentlebrown--a dark brown, like coffee, but not quite as dark as Barely Black. Gentlebrown just happened to be my favorite color, next to South Pacific, a suntan color, Barely There, a light tan, and Town Taupe. This was heaven! Her thighs were firm and the feel of the Hanes on her legs was just terrific. The nylon surface was silky smooth and glistening with liquids. Of course, I took my time getting to my feet, then helping her up. The feel of her nyloned legs, soaked through all the way up, was just incredible. She looked quite embarrassed, to say the least, as she sheepishly thanked me while pulling herself together. Trying to bring her dress hem down didn't help her modesty as the wet fabric clung to her legs and revealed her fine undergarments like an x-ray. The line band at the top of her Hanes nylons clearly showed through the thin off-white dress, as well as the dark welt. Lynn was too upset to notice that her white garter straps and shiny metal garter clasps could be easily seen through the dress as well, as if she was being x-rayed! Lynn quickly retired to the forward cabin where she dried herself off with a towel as well as she could. I didn't see her again until just before landing, when she came out and seated herself again. Her white dress was still damp and didn't hide her white garter straps and dark stocking tops very effectively.After touching down and docking, I made sure I was one of the last ones to deplane so that I could have a word with her. As I approached the exit door, I smiled at her. Lynn had her hands clasped in front of her dress, as if to hide the white garter straps and stocking tops. Lynn smiled back as she said, "Thanks for helping me out back there. I've never had an experience like that." I replied, "Same here." What an understatement! Now was my chance. I calmly said, "Have you done any modeling? I'm a free-lance photographer and would like to do some portraits of you." Lynn replied, "Well, not really, but I've been thinking of going to modeling school and could use a portfolio." I said, "Well, it just happens that I do portfolios." We exchanged phone numbers and promised to get in touch with each other. I reached out to shake her hand, and when she also reached out, the front of her damp dress was exposed, revealing again the garter straps and nylons. "It was great to meet you," I said with a dry throat. "I'll call you soon." After a couple of weeks, I called Lynn and set up a shoot. I went to pick her up in my VW bug. When she came to the door, she was wearing a yellow dress and 2" leather heels. Having come prepared, I had a pair of Hanes off-black stockings with me. Casually, I asked her if she wouldn't mind trying on the stockings to complement her dress (black and yellow look nice in color). Without any hesitation, Lynn stepped back into her home and kindly obliged. Fortunately, the 9 medium fit her nicely, perhaps a bit on the long side. But that was fine, as I later found that the stockings extended almost to her crotch and matched her black garters perfectly. Once a beauty contestant at the local college, she was absolutely breathtaking in her yellow dress and black nylons. Satisfied with her outfit, she got into my bug. She commented, "These nylons feel really nice! It's the nicest nylons I've ever worn. Thanks!" We drove off to a nearby park with a running stream and waterfall. Along the way, I couldn't help looking down at her lap and admiring the visible bump of the garter straps and clasps on her dress. The hem rode up a little revealing the sheer nylons, but not high enough to show the stocking tops. That would have to wait. When we got to the park, being a weekday, there was hardly anyone there to bother us. We had the whole park to ourselves. From the parking lot, we walked down toward the stream on a little path. There was a boulder and nearby large tree which I started with for background. I had a flash along for fill light, in case it got too dark in the shade. This was fortunate, for it was a bit dark to otherwise get details in the shadows. As she sat on a boulder, I worked around her, posing her in various positions, getting her relaxed. Gradually, her yellow dress hiked up bit by bit, exposing her dark stocking tops. Eventually, her garter clasps showed above her hemline. I was getting more and more excited at the possibilities. We moved on to the tree which had large surface roots extending out in several directions. Standing on the root, she went through various poses--some with her arms extended up and behind her head. I noticed the higher she held her arms, the higher her dress hem hiked up. I had her look off to the side so she would be less aware of where I was shooting from. I got a series of shots from a low angle, revealing the full length of her nylon covered legs, black stocking tops, garter straps, and sheer black panties. I moved in closer and closer with my 35mm wide angle, until I was a foot away from her legs. One of her garter clasps had unhooked, so I was able to get shots of her stocking tops, the garter clasp hanging, and her black-panty covered crotch. I was almost beside myself, feeling light-headed. With a wide-angle lens, I was so close to her stocking tops and sheer panties that I could almost smell her crotch. If I only dared to reach out and feel her stocking-covered legs all the way up—but I behaved myself, not wanting to push myself too far. A little later, I had her sit down on a low boulder. I asked her to relax by taking off her shoes. She obliged. Now I had a clear shot up her legs sheathed in ultrasheer dark nylons with her stocking-covered feet in the foreground; the reinforced heels and toes came out clearly. I had her stand so I could get full-length shots of her with the off-black nylons. Throughout the entire session, she didn't seem to mind the poses at all. I wonder if she was aware at all about the kinds of shots I was taking. Eventually, I ran out of film--both slides and black-and-white. Regretfully, I drove her home, but I had a treasure trove of up-the-skirt shots of stocking-clad legs, a stocking lover's wet dream! To this day, I have kept a couple of dozen shots recorded on Kodachrome which preserved the colors perfectly. With a new Nikon scanner, I can preserve the images indefinitely. Now that nylon stocking sightings are so rare, the images are even more irreplaceable. We had another shoot a couple of months later after she was really satisfied with the nice portraits I had taken (she never did see the contact sheet or full set of slides), we arranged another shoot at her home. Unfortunately, she wasn't wearing stockings this time, just sheer dark pantyhose. I still managed to get a few-up-the-skirt shots of her dark hose showing her colorful panties underneath, but somehow it wasn't as satisfying.