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Come Fly With Me

By: Icingsugar



It was close. I could feel it in the air. Everyone still went about their business, scurrying in and out of doors, along parapets and across the web of bridges, suspended platforms, and cableways stretching across the chasm, that perfect cone shaped drop that was the Axis. 

"The Axis?" you say. That's right. I keep forgetting. Neither the Axis, nor Aurora would mean anything to you. She has long since passed, and will never return here again. But to understand my story, I think you must know at least the basics.

The Axis was the centre point of Aurora, the twelfth evacuation vessel from the old world. Aurora carried a population of a million and three hundred thousand when we set out, and a million and six hundred and fifty four thousand when I left her fifteen years ago. She had then travelled for fifty seven years. Yes, Aurora is where I was born and raised, and the four hundred levels of circular streets around a round chasm called the Axis is, and always will be, my home town. 

In the Axis, people lived a regular townslife, had regular town jobs and did regular town things. Not everyone busted their balls driving the ship, mind you. There was a society that had to be run. After a few years on board of Aurora, all kinds of roles, and levels in society began to crystallise. Barbers, shopkeepers, barkeepers, accountants, lawyers, housewives, prostitutes, criminals, you name it. It was, in all aspects, a run-of-the-mill city. Except that we floated around in interstellar space.

Anyway, that day, that day was like all other days in the Axis. Below me, on the bottom levels, the rich and the fabulous pranced around in their smaller circles of luxurious condos and garden platforms. I lived a bit above that, in a not too costly, but respectable and quiet part of town. High above me, on the wider floors, underpaid service workers, as well as a few ethnic groupings had chosen to make a living. We had a Chinatown some thirty floors up, a big Hispanic area between 328'th and 366'th, and the seedy, run down and not very friendly neighbourhood up near the roof, where criminal gangs reigned and an escalating drug problem was keeping the PD busy. There was room for all in the Axis, and all tried to make the best of their situation as it was.

But they knew, as well as I did. Today was one of those days. We were about to do a slingshot. And I knew that they were all scared. I was too.

The official name for the maneuver was a Tremenie Charge, after the scientist who had discovered the techniques behind it some two hundred years ago. Basically, it had to do with tapping into the energy that existed in the antimatter that vacuum consisted of. Now, when I went to school we were taught that vacuum didn't consist of anything, but that was grade school physics. This Rosalyn Tremenie's theories were apparently proven correct, and there are matter and energy to be extracted pretty much everywhere.

I'm not an egg-head, so I have no idea. All I can say is that it works. It was what kept Aurora going, provided energy for the life-support system, artificial gravity and all the other things that we took for granted. The name "slingshot" came from one of the things that this Tremenie Charge did to the ship, the one that was most obvious to the million or so regular people living here. When channelling into Tremenie matter, we are kind of letting loose it's powers in the "real world" of atoms and molecules, and the spot that we target, at a safe distance from Aurora itself, becomes a massive centre of gravity. So around that spot we would orbit, while somehow tapping into it and recharging our own batteries. When we were done, the hole, or whatever it is, is sealed up, and we continue, with increased velocity, in the direction of the tangent.

Aurora wasn't built for that kind of thing. She was an old ship, one of the first of her kind, and the ability to do a slingshot had been added on later, just months before launch. The stress on this huge vessel was enormous, and there was always a small risk that something might go wrong. After every slingshot there were weeks of repairs to me made, both to the hull and to the inner structure. I should know, I was one of the ones doing them.

What was really dangerous for the everyday citizen of Aurora during a slingshot was not the risk of total annihilation. That was too distant to be on anyones mind. I doubt that most people even were aware of it. No, the real danger was the gravity. Or rather, the lack of it. Too close to a real, natural gravitational field amassed around a Tremeine centre, the ships artificial gravity could not function, so during the charges, it was turned off. That meant that anything, and anyone, not securely attached would drift out into open air. And when gravity was turned on again... Well, to put it in as simple words as possible: Splat!

That's why everyone stayed in their homes during a charge. Just holding on to something and staying outside was also a bad idea, due to the heavy trembling and stress on the ship, keeping a grip for the six hours it takes would not be a safe bet. And then there was also the business of having anything that was sent drifting raining down on you when gravity returned.

And then it came, just as I had expected. Xenon lights on top of every streetlight, along every bridge, started their blue and red flashlight blinking, turning the walls of the great chasm into a mighty spectacle. Have you ever seen those old movies from the athletic arenas of Olympic Games? You know, when the fire is first lit, and everyone flashed their photographic cameras to capture the moment. That's what it looked like. A beautiful sight, but foreboding something not at all as pretty.

Then the sounds. Sirens hollered in the distance, from speakers the message echoed, in twelve different languages, "A Tremaine Charge will commence in T minus two hours. Please return to your quarters or a public chamber and remain there until further instructed. Remember to secure vehicles and loose items in your homes. Thank you."

The sirens and the mantra of that warning was repeated for another five minutes. I remained at the parapet, leaning out over the edge to see the floors below me. There, as well as on the street behind me, activity was beginning to stir. It wasn't the first slingshot, and it wasn't the last. People were getting pretty used to the routine. I heard steps behind me. As the sirens finally fell into silence, my next door neighbour, a retired old camper from the granary department named Salvatore, joined me at the railing.

"Here we go again." he said, his voice like the tearing of paper. He had had an accident at a wheat plant years ago, and some fertilising chemicals had fried his vocal chords. Not that he cared all that much, he had explained. It wasn't like he had that much to say anyway. I liked Salvatore. He didn't fuck around.

"Yep." I replied.

"They say it's going to be a smooth one this time."

"Really?"

"Yes, yes. Compared to the last one at least."

"Let's hope that. It damn near tore us apart. And it cost me five weeks in a wheelchair."

"Yes... How is the knee these days, by the way?"

"Doing better, thank you for asking. I should be able to go back to work in a few weeks."

"Good, good." Salvatore mused, staring out into the lightshow still going on. "It did you good though. Rehab. You look heathy. Not like this time last year."

"It did." I had to agree. Getting my knee smashed had actually been great for my health. Gave me a reason to start working away five years of being a couch potato, a drunk and a painkiller addict. That kind of thing can really make you look like shit.

"Well, here's to better health. I'm off." Salvatore said, and with a pat on my back, he turned and headed to his door on the bottom floor across the street, the door next to mine. "Better get those damn chairs tied up and secured. Don't stay out late, kiddo!"

With a chuckle he walked away, crossed the street and went inside. He'd do like so many others; secure his stuff from drifting, strap himself into bed, pop a sleeping pill and nap it out. Me, always I stayed awake and untied. Some couldn't stand it, and would get nauseous. Not me. I liked the whole weightlessness shebang, and I used to amuse myself with drifting around doing silly little pirouettes and somersaults. Not that I'd ever admit to that in public.

I had no rush, I only had a few plants to bag and stuff in a locker, and a few chairs in the kitchen that were designed to clip onto the already down-bolted kitchen table. So I stayed, turned to the street behind me, and watched the bustling of parents calling their children home, men and women walking past their windows collecting loose trinkets and putting them in plastic bags, cars being anchored to the ground and scooters being chained to the railing along the edge. Within the hour, the street was empty, save for the occasional straggler, or people with better time management, like myself.

Well, it was time. The bridges were empty, the cableway gondolas had been parked on either side. People were for the most part already inside, waiting for the almost monthly event. Many were probably already asleep, at home, at the office or in one of the huge public chambers on each floor. I sauntered across the street, brightly lit from the glowing ceiling high above me, and from the xenon symphony behind my back. I collected a few assorted items from my small front porch, merely a ten feet platform by the window, and carried them inside. A few items, a garden chair, a potted plant and an open book, some old 21:st century classic. Inside, I put the book in a sealed cabinet along with my other literature, jammed the chair in under the bed, and started picking up assorted junk and litter.

That was of course one positive thing about the slingshots. They gave me a reason to tidy up.

My chores took just about the time I had expected, and with five minutes to spare, I sat down in my sofa to wait for the afternoon of weightlessness that was about just around the corner.

Sometimes fate plays a strange little game. Had it not just then occurred to me that this was the last time to get a decent drink of water out of the sink for two hours, I might not had spotted her. I would had read a sad little note about her demise in the news bulletin the next morning, how a young woman on 120:th didn't make it indoors and lost her grip on the shaking parapet where she had clung desperately when gravity was turned off. How she had drifted up, and out with the slow but persistent draft of the Axis. How she had fallen, hundreds of floors down, turned into a wet spot on the sidewalk.

There was always one or two for every slingshot. But it wouldn't be her. Not this time. Because I had seen her on my way out from the kitchen.

There was a woman walking along the edge railing. Casually, strolling as if she had no hurry to get herself to safety. She lead a scooter, but didn't seem to care to ride it for the extra speed I knew she'd need. I guessed that she was headed for the public chambers further down my street. But at that pace, she wouldn't reach even half the way.

She was one of those posh low level girls. Enough family money to buy her a solid education and nice clothes, but not enough to wallow in luxuries. A tall, healthy figure dressed in a nice, hugging, but not too obviously teasing casual suit. Her skin was quite pale, which was surprising, because her long, dark hair and equally dark eyes would had me guessing a mediterranean heritage. But this was Aurora, and old lineages was a rapidly dimishing phenomena. So you never knew. What I did see however, was that she looked absolutely beautiful, like the girls in the cosmetics commercials. Perfect skin, a strong, proud face, and an impeccable, but tasteful make-up. The impression of perfection ran all the way from the well groomed raven hair, to the sexy but tasteful skirt and the dark red polish on her fingernails. She was the kind of woman that you could pass on the street, have an appreciative glance at, and then dismiss, because they simply looked too well balanced to be anywhere near interesting other than as statuettes. Too good, too perfect, too out of range.

Besides, her looks didn't concern me at the time. Her immediate safety did, and I reacted as I would had if she had been just anybody. I ran to the door, pulled it open and shouted.

"Hey! Miss! What are you doing out there?! Don't you know there's a charge coming up?"

"What? Who are you?" she said and turned my way.

"I live here. Didn't you hear the warning? Don't you see the fireworks? A charge! A goddamn slingshot! You can't stay out there."

"Yeah, I know." she replied with a what's-your-problem shrug. "But that's over twenty minutes away."

"Twenty minutes? Is that what your clock is telling you?"

"Yeah. Five past three. Why?" she said, and confirmed my suspicions. This girl did not seem like enough of a bimbo to ignore the warnings. In fact, she seemed to be sharp enough to take care of herself. But what difference does that make if one is so way off on an important fact? And the time was the most important fact in her life right now. Time that was about to run out.

"Well, you're off by a quarter. They'll switch off the pull real soon now." I warned her.

"What?" she said, and examined the watch on her wrist. She looked at it, put it closer to her eyes, tapped on the glass, and sighed. "Well, I'll be... damn. It has stopped. It's broken."

She just stood there, shaking the little watch, and didn't seem to care about her situation. I guess the impact of what it meant to stand out there in the free was too much to take in instantly. Shock of the surprise of immediate peril, I guessed. But then again, I'm not a shrink. All I could see was that she stood there, still holding on to her scooter and examined her watch. I had to snap her out of it somehow. 

"Hey!" I shouted. "Lady! You have to get inside. Now! There's only something like five minutes left before..."

As if on cue, the speaker system crackled and called out the last warning: "Attention, citizens of Aurora. The Tremaine Charge will commence in fifteen minutes. The artificial gravity generators will be shut down in three minutes. If you have not yet done so, seek indoor shelter immediately."

The girl got a panicked look in her face.

"Three minutes?! Shit! I'll never make it. Maybe if I hurry..."

She mounted her scooter and prepared to race down the street.

"Hey, don't be stupid!" I called out. "They've closed the public chambers already. Besides, that's at least ten minutes away. Come here instead, I have plenty of room."

"I don't think so. I have no idea who you are. I really shouldn't..." she said.

"Come on, I'm not gonna do anything. It's not a bloody pick-up line, I'm just offering some help."

"It's not that, I... I really shouldn't."

"Shouldn't what? Save your ass from drifting away out into the big drop? It's up to you, lady. The door is open."

Now she just stood there. Tense, intense, torn between options that I couldn't understand. She stared at me, at the doorway I stood in, up and down the street, and back to me. This was going too slow. I was not leaving that girl out there to risk death.

"Two minutes!" I called out. "Don't make me have to come and drag you in here, you hear?"

Finally she snapped out of it, took one last glance up and down the street, as if there were other options awaiting her, and got moving. First she took her scooter, did a quick attempt to pull a chain from one of the tied-up bicycles by the railing at the edge. Then she dashed for my door, and the welcomed roof it provided.

Safely inside, she turned to look at me. I could see the uncertainty shining from her eyes now. I did my best to try to calm her.

"Hey, miss. Chill out, will you? I know you don't know me, but you really shouldn't think the worst of people. I'm a nice guy, honest."

"It's not that." she breathed. "It's this. I've always been asleep. I won't have time to let a pill work now, right?"

"Wait. Are you saying that you've never been awake through a shot?"

She shook her head.

"Never?"

"No, my family have always slept them out."

"I see. Any reason why?"

"I...I don't know. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"

"I can't see why." I said. "I'm Petri. What's your name?"

"Camilla." she replied.

Camilla? Now where could such a name come from? Was she British? Scaninavian perhaps? On the other hand, she probably wondered the same thing about my own name. I'm told my biological mother was Finnish, but she died before I got old enough to get to know her. My new family decided to keep that name. A nice gesture, I think.

"Well Camilla, let's get you settled. I don't have anything to put you asleep with, but there are some cords between the cushions in that sofa if you want to hold on to something."

I scurried out into the kitchen and came back with a plastic bag, which I gave her. She had settled down into the sofa and was checking out the "seatbelt", which was the recommended equipment for securing ones person during non-gravity. Useless junk as far as I'm concerned.

"What's this for?" she said and eyed the yellow plastic shopping bag suspiciously. 

"In case you want to toss the cookies. Many people get nauseous from this."

"Oh. Yipee." she said, with not much enthusiasm. "Ok, now what?"

"We wait. Any second now..."

Then it came, that split second before the floor was dropped from under us. I was standing in the middle of the room, the attractive, but unexpected houseguest was sitting on the sofa, holding on to the nylon straps as if her life depended on it. Everything fell into silence around us, the whole of Aurora held it's collective breath in anticipation. You could had heard a needle drop.

Except you wouldn't. The needle wouldn't have anywhere to fall.

Because at that very moment, the circuits to the gravity generators were cut, and in an instant up and down became a memory of the past. Before anything else, I felt it in my gut. That rushing feeling of falling came and passed just as quickly. Camilla half shouted half gasped in sudden surprise behind me, and I felt the pressure on the soles of my feet ease. Careful not to loose touch with the only leverage I had, I eased up on my toes and sent myself slowly rising to the ceiling. Bouncing around was the key. To be left hanging in the middle of the room was very annoying.

"Ohmygodohmygooood." Camilla whispered, and as I glanced over my shoulder I could see her clinging to the safety straps on the sofa that was bolted to the safe floor. Her whole body was tense, her knuckles were white and her face was a display of wild fascination mixed with mild terror. She must have jerked her legs somehow, because the fabric on the front of her skirt had begun to drift upwards, exposing more and more of her smooth, well toned thighs. To my defence, I would like to add that I did try to look away. But I'm only human, and they were magnificent.

I was about to say something to calm her down, but I had forgotten all about The Symphony. That's what I called it. That godawful noise just after losing gravity in the Axis. It started with a loud, distant, monumental groan, instantly followed by other sounds, rattling of chains, creaking of wires, straining of coal fibre, metal and ceramics. It was The Symphony of a thousand bridges. All the roads and passages that crossed the chasm of the Axis, thousands of tons of suspension and pillars, that adjusted to the absence of something holding them down. For something that is designed for one G of gravity, nothing is almost as much a strain as the double. It was other things too, all the things that people had secured with chains to rails and lamp post on floor after floor, the strain on the houses and streets themselves, all contributed to The Symphony, and the clamour drowned out everything else.


Come Fly With Me



I heard Camilla shriek in panic, and I saw that she had let go of the straps to cover her ears. And in the process, the elastic cushion on the sofa had then promptly pushed her away and up. She now drifted, only an inch per second, upwards towards the roof. Her legs were flailing, her hands still around her hears.

"Calm down!" I shouted through the rumble. "It's not dangerous!"

"Help meee! Make it stop!" she yelled back.

The metallic thunder outside finally died down, and all that was left was that ear-piercing silence, and the sound of the free-floating girl whimpering through clenched teeth.

"Oh shit, oh fuck..." she was close to panic now. I had to say something to try to ease her hysteria.

"Camilla, calm down. You're perfectly safe in here. How are you feeling? Do you need to throw up?" That's it, divert her attention to more practical matters.

She shook her head. Her hair hung still around her head and was slowly spreading like the tailfeathers of a peacock on either side or her face.

"It's better now." she said, her voice strained. "I felt a bit sick the first minute, but it's getting easier every second now. But please help me. I want down!"

"No problem, we only have one thing to take care of. With your speed right now, it'll take an hour to reach the roof. What you want to be doing to have control over yourself is to be in motion like I am. See?"

As I was talking, I was bouncing up and down between the roof and the ceiling, gently pushing with either my feet or my hands. "Like this, you can control where you're heading. So just let me give you a little nudge, ok?" I said and started pushing myself sidewards toward her as well as up and down. Finally, I bounced off the roof directly above her, grabbed her by the waist and we drifted down into the sofa again.

She landed on her back in the middle of her sofa, and I took hold of the safety straps on either side of her and pinned her between me and the sofa. It seemed like a good thing to do, although I suspect that my Little Head probably had been a keen supporter of that particular solution to the problem, on a subconscious level. Now, lying there, on top of her, just inches away from her face, her rapid breathing rubbing her chest against mine, her thighs naked, as the skirt had drifted up to her waist by now, her hands gripping my upper arms, now my monkey brain finally caught up with all the commotion.

God, she was beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. It was not just physical perfection. It was the way her mouth moved, as if she couldn't really decide if she was smiling of frowning. It was the way her eyes darted, left, right, left, right, not knowing which of my eyes to look into. It was the barely noticeable little white trace of a scar on her throat, the silky, distinct delicacy of her hair, the warm, mint fresh rush of breath as her panicked panting subsided. And of course, it was the feel of a young, trim and so sexy body grinding against mine.

But she was still agitated enough to break the hypnosis she had involuntarily put me in. I snapped out of my appreciation mode and spoke to her, as calmly as I could.

"Camilla? Camilla, listen to me. It's ok, It's not dangerous. We're not falling, you hear that? We're NOT falling. Come on, breathe. Take deep breaths. That's it. Slower, slower... There you go."

It seemed to be working. She closed her eyes and let that almost painful grip on my forearms go.

"Are you ok now?" I asked her, and she nodded silently. "You need that bag?" 

"No," she answered with a quiet voice. "I'm not feeling sick. It's ok now. So you can let go now. I'll hold on by myself."

Regretfully I did what I was told, and she settled in, secured to the couch again.

After a while, she had completely forgotten the discomfort and fear she was feeling, and was instead staring with a wide-eyed grin at me spinning around in mid air. I'll have to admit, It made me a bit dizzy too, but I figured it was worth it, I was putting on a bit of an extra show to cheer her up. So I bounced around in the room, while we engaged in some impersonal small-talk about slingshots, being weightless, and general things like current news events, sports and music.

I tossed her small objects to play with too, a pen, an orange, a napkin. She was particularly fond of the napkin, which she bent into small cloth sculptures, before erasing them by holding on to one corner, and giving it a light blow.

Eventually, she even dared to venture out on her own. She let go of the straps, and with my vocal coaching began to drift in different directions across the room. She did an effort at first to keep her skirt in place, but soon decided to ignore that.

"I mean, can prance around in a thong bikini in public by the pool, so this is no worse. Unless you mind having to look at my legs?" she said with a sly little wink.

I shrugged. "They're nice legs." I said in what I thought was an off-hand tone.

Nice? They were art. Her silvery laugh showed me just how off-hand I had sounded.

"Well, here they are. Feast your eyes, mister."

I wasn't about to object. We both flew around in the room now, occasionally brushing by each other at close range. Camilla seemed to really enjoy the experience, and was alternatively trying out new pirouettes or just giggling uncontrollably when watching me trying to copy her moves. I had to admit, she had talent for this.

Then it happened.

"Catch me."

"What?"

"I have an idea, you get to the far wall, I start here and you catch me in the middle."

"Camilla, you know that that might get us stuck in mid air..."

"Of course we won't, you clown. If we do, we'll just push away, right?"

"Damn, girl. You've done your homework better than I, it seems. Ok. I'm on. Anything to grab onto you, pretty."

"Perv." she laughed.

Said and done, I headed for the far wall, and bounced back, just as Camilla took aim for the middle too.

We both missed, and found ourselves heading in different directions. Where we were supposed to intercept, we could reach eachother only with extended arms. So we did, clasped hands and held on tight. Around the axis of our hands, we then began to spin, slow at first, but as we pulled closer to the centre, the rotation increased. Camilla suddenly grabbed hold of my side and pulled us completely together. She clasped her hands on my back, and I did the same thing.

"Oh shit, we're spinning!" she panted.

"I think we are. But I can't see it."

I couldn't, the rotation wrapped Camilla's long hair in a complete circle around our heads, forming a tiny room in between our faces with dark velvet walls. I did nothing, couldn't think straight. It was as if I was trapped in that tiny space, and I loved every fleeing moment of it. I just held my breath and looked into her eyes, which here already locked at mine. She had a flickering giggle dancing on her lips and a strange sparkle in her eyes. The world spun like crazy around us, but I didn't notice anything beside that hypnotic, beautiful face, and the feeling of having her in my arms.

Then the room shrunk, as Camilla suddenly thrust her head forward and pressed her lips against mine. I was already lost, and not late to respond. In that nowhere, oblivious of everything around us, our lips met, and our bodies were eagerly pulled even closer to each other. We broke the kiss, gasping for each other's exhaled air, and our eyes met again.

"Oh my god." she whispered through lips formed in a wicked grin. No embarrassment, no apologies. No, she wanted this just as much as I did. All I could do was to nod in response, before she dove at my mouth again.

At the next breather she asked me; "Have you ever... done it... floating?"

I didn't trust my voice enough to answer, so I just shook my head.

"Well then." she said. "That makes us both virgins."

"Vir... are you..."

"No, of course I'm not." she laughed. "But we're both no-grav debutants. It's probably different. It must be, right?"

"I... I guess."

"So let's find out." she said and let go of her grip on me. She pushed away and drifted in the direction of the kitchen, while I was sent spinning towards the front door. I reached for the frame, managed to steady myself, and turned to look at her.

She beamed at me from across the room, and left the wall with an ever so slight push. It would take her at least five minutes to get to me, and I prepared to push off to catch her again.

"No, stay put." she called out.

She used those five minutes in a most delightful way, leaving an expanding cloud of clothes scattered all around the room. A sock here, a blouse there, shoes playfully thrown at me, which caused her to loose even more momentum. Finally she hovered just a few feet out of reach wearing nothing but a pair of white silk panties, which she slowly began to pull down over her hips and thighs. I just stared in awe at her magnificence, and had to stir up all my will power to stay were I had been told.

She waved a foreboding finger at me when I made an attempt to leave the security of the doorframe. Instead, since she was finally within arm's reach, she took hold of my shirt and pulled herself close. There she immediately began to unbutton my shirt and to kiss me softly on the lips. I wasn't going to object. Although I was the supposed expert on this suspended state we were in, this was a particular game that she played much better than I did under any circumstances.

She had my shirt off, my pants down at my ankles and my cock pointing straight at her before I let go of my grip on the door frame and nudged us out into the room. My lips still on hers, I kicked off the remaining clothes from my feet, and let my hands travel the entire length of her light skin, from neck, down back, over her ass and down to the thighs she had now wrapped around my waist. 

We were going nowhere now, but hung suspended in a vertical position just out of reach from the wall, just where we wanted to be. No ground, no roof, no up, no down, just two bodies and what felt like an insatiable desire, nothing else. We kissed, clung and let our hands slowly explore each other's skin. My cock was rubbing against her belly and my hands and mouth were all over her. Careful not to drift apart, we allowed ourselves to let go of each other and I spun her around, so that I could grab hold of her from behind. With one hand between her legs and one on her breast I began to rub a nipple and her clitoris. Camilla moaned and giggled softly at the attention, while she wriggled her behind at the cock resting between her asscheeks.

This was all wonderful, a gorgeous girl, skin on skin, so welcoming and willing, in such an unreal, almost magical situation. But still I was greedy, I wanted more. I wanted to turn her around once again, to push myself into her and ride her and myself silly. And it seemed like she had the same thing in mind.

"Mmm, that feels so good." she murmured. "But please, enough of this. I want you inside of me."

I said nothing, just took her left arm and gave it enough of a push to spin her back to face me. Her arms around my neck, my hands on her ass, and her legs around my waist, I positioned my cock at her pussy, and pushed her onto me. With the firm leverage of my hands pushing her to me from behind, I slid in the whole way. Without the advantage of anything solid to hold on to, it was awkward, but it worked. She glued her lips to mine and pushed her tongue into my mouth. By instinct, our hips began to move in that ancient dance of in and out, and slowly we began to fuck. Or at least, that's what we tried to do.

A couple of ambitious attempts later, Camilla let up a frustrated groan and buried her face in my chest.

"This is no good." she murmured. "We can't do it. Oh, god I want to fuck you, but it's just not happening."

"No, you're right. This is impossible."

It was. However we tried, we couldn't more than cling on to each other. Anything too rhythmic and forceful just made us lose contact. I longed like crazy. I burned with desire to slam my cock deep inside of her eager, welcoming cunt and just thrust, thrust, thrust until neither if us could take it anymore. All I could do was to carefully, gently sink myself into her, and then just as slowly, ease myself out. Camilla pulled herself closer to me, clasped her hands behind my back and pressed her breasts up against me, while her face snuggled against my neck. I returned the favour, put both my hands on her ass and pushed our hips as close as possible.

"How long now?" she asked.

"A little less than two hours."

"You've got to be kidding me. How am I ever going to wait that long?"

"We'll just have to make do, beautiful. Let's make the most of what we got."

She raised her head and looked into my eyes with a wicked grin.

"I like the sound of that." she breathed.

So there we hung, hovered a few feet over the floor, in a two hour inevitable slow-fuck. Most of the time I just kept my cock buried in her, while she squeezed on my shaft with her warm, slippery hole, and she would plunge her tongue into my mouth. But something struck me. There was one thing that I could do. I let go and pulled out of her.

"No, Petri." she moaned in disappointment. "What are you doing? That was nice."

"To hell with nice. This is will be better."

"What?"

I just smiled at her and drifted down between her legs, where I shoved my face in between her lovely thighs. With her legs wrapped around my neck and back and her hand on my head, I was firmly enough in place to give her a real, intense tongue-job at least. I even had both my hands free to massage her clit and her ass at the same time. She responded with an intensity, and a series of loud wordless gasps, moans and screams, that took me by surprise at first, until I realised that she had started cumming almost as soon as I had shoved my tongue into her slit, and didn't stop for several minutes. Afterwards, she just laid there in mid air, totally relaxed, head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth gaping.

"Oh... Woah! That... that was... Thank you so much. You have no idea how bad I needed that."

I drifted back up, covering her groin, belly, beasts, chest and neck with licks and kisses, until I met her lips again for another deep kiss. Finally we broke it off, and she looked into my eyes again.

"I wanna do that to you too." Camilla said.

"Oh, yes, please." was all I could think of. She giggled and floated down towards my constantly almost painful erection, and started to lick the length of my cock. It sent exquisite shivers along my spine and all I could do was relax, close my eyes and focus all my attention at her careful caress. I felt her tongue travel from my balls, up the shaft, and end with her tongue-tip teasing the end of the head. And then, those soft lips. A slow, lightly sucking kiss at the tip that seemed to last for minutes. I fought the urge to reach down, grab the back of her head and push, and was almost losing that battle when she finally parted her lips, opened wide and worked my cock into her mouth.

Eventually, with almost all of me engulfed, she took a firm grip on my hips, and started moving her head and throat up and down my cock. I opened my eyes, and found her parted thighs and glittering pussy hovering right in front of me. Camilla had moved around into a sixty-nine position, probably just because she preferred to give head that way. She was too concentrated on what she was doing, and didn't seem to expect anything in return.

But that wasn't going to stop me. I reached out and pulled her crotch to my face, held her firmly in place with one hand on her ass, and used my tongue and other hand to fingerfuck and lick the girl as much as I could. All through my own fits of pleasure from having her mouth giving me the blowjob of my life. She responded with a muffled squeal, and continued to moan in a high-pitched voice in rhythm with my own grunting.

Soon I felt an inevitable orgasm building up, and when Camilla suddenly screamed around my cock and clamped her legs around me in her own second climax, I instantly went over the edge. Without having time to warn her, my cock erupted and shot a gush of semen deep down into her. I heard her cough once, and got a little worried I had forced her to accept a load into her throat. But then she sealed her lips around the base and greedily licked and sucked up as much of my sperm as she could. I returned the favour and let my mouth soak in the sweet aroma of her juices, as we both slowly wound down again.

The concept of time was a bit hazy for me by now, but in what I guess was minutes later, she let go of my now drained and soft dick, took my hand and spun herself back face to face with me. The look on her face, that freshly fucked distant sparkle in her eyes, that adorable, silly grin, and the glister of cum on her lips was a sight that I'd never forget. Without a word, she snuck her arms around my body, wrapped her legs around my waist and snuggled her head in against my neck. I returned the embrace, and absently stroke her back and hair.

Again, I lost track of time completely, it was just so beautiful, so perfectly peaceful to float there together in the post orgasmic afterglow. And after a while it seemed like the intensity of the day finally got the better of my newfound lover, her grip on my back and the locked legs disentangled. Floating naked in my arms, Camilla had fallen asleep.

I didn't mind. I held onto her gorgeous body in a gentle grip, and just savoured the moment. It wasn't like I had any pressing appointments elsewhere. 

Camilla slept. I spaced out. Aurora spun. The Axis trembled slightly in the Tremaine Charge slingshot tension. And I couldn't help but to wonder; was there others, just like us? Camilla and I could not be the first ones to try this.

Maybe there were thousands out there, hanging naked, entwined, waiting for the end of the slingshot.
Waiting, and counting the minutes, until they could finally... well... you know... fuck their brains out.

I awoke to the sound of the ordinary city commotion on the street outside. I was lying on the floor in the middle of the room, just below where Camilla and I had been floating. I had a pillow under my head and a sheet above me. But Camilla was nowhere to be found. Apparently, I had fallen asleep too, and when the gravity had gradually increased and eased us down to the floor, she had woken up, put on her clothes and tucked me in, before heading out.

Out of my life again, I thought with a brief sting.

That was until I collected myself, got up and noticed the note taped on my front door. It was the napkin she had played with, and on it she had scribbled, with a handwriting so elegant it was almost calligraphic.

I had to go, you looked
too cute to wake up.
I'll stay longer next time.
That's a promise.
Love, Camilla

I stood there, relived that she hadn't just left without a trace, but pondering in my mind what she could mean with "next time". Next day? Next slingshot? Next year? Next life?

And why couldn't she, even after sleeping with me, leave me her pager number? That was a bit... odd. Well, I'd just have to ask her next time she came by. Whenever that would be.



Come, Fly, With Me



Jill buckled into her seat in first class for the flight from JFK to Zurich, and breathed a sigh of relief. She really did love Jack, but he just did not understand where she was coming from sexually anymore. He couldn't really, because she had no way of explaining it to him. All she knew was that she was tired of the sexual routines they had fallen into over ten happy years of marriage, and she wanted something. She wasn't sure what, but Jack's patented brand of first-position intercourse was no longer it.

She wasn't a cheater, she knew that. She didn't want a boyfriend, although God knew she could get one easily enough; she was about 5'4", with natural blonde hair that she wore long on top and short on the back and sides. Naturally athletic, she kept her hair short this way to make its maintenance easy after her frequent workouts, and also because the faintly boyish cast it lent to her facial features served to subtract about 8 years from her apparent age. There was a lot to be said for looking 25 again.

But Jill was not trying to get laid. She wanted Jack as he was when they first knew one another, in their college days, when any kind of sex was great sex. Now, there was almost no sex at all between them, and it was getting to her. There were times when her desire came upon her, usually when she was alone and on the road somewhere, and she would masturbate for relief. She wasn't afraid of masturbation, but she was afraid of doing it too much, or liking it too much, or doing it so much that it would lose its specialness too. She was frustrated, plain and simple.

The first class flight attendant came by with the usual offer of a drink, which Jill accepted, and a meal, which she declined. She would have one glass of white wine and skip the late dinner being offered, and wait for breakfast, which would come about 2 hours before her plane change in London. Though her ongoing flight to Switzerland had the same flight number as the transatlantic leg, it in fact involved a change of aircraft to a smaller jet. Until then, she intended to sleep blissfully, and hope to be in some kind of shape for her meeting that afternoon.

The wine appeared on her tray table at the end of a beautifully manicured hand. She followed the arm up to the body and read the name tag just above the uniform breast pocket.

"Thank you, Janet," said Jill, gratefully. "This is exactly what I needed."

"You're very welcome," Janet replied. "Are you sure you won't have anything for dinner?"

"No, thanks. I'll see you at breakfast," Jill said, with a smile.

"Just ring my bell if you change your mind."

With that, Jill settled into her leather seat, and got comfortable. She was an old hand at flying the Atlantic; she made this trip as often as twice a month, as North American marketing coordinator for a major Swiss pharmaceutical manufacturer, and she knew how to relax on these long flights. She always wore soft fleece clothes, essentially sweats, but a little more stylish; they were a pale pink and tailored to her athletic figure. Underneath, she wore a matched bra and panty set of stretch nylon in her favorite shade of lavender, that were so soft and smooth that she barely knew she had anything on. On her feet, she wore little fur-trimmed ankle boots in honor of the wintry night outside, but undid the side zippers so as to be able to kick them off if she got warm. In effect, she got onto the plane in her pajamas, and since all she planned to do was sleep, she was dressed precisely right for it.

The 747 pushed back exactly on time, and Jill finished her drink. She looked out the window. It was January, and it had snowed heavily the day before. Now, the soft, cold snow blew lightly around the windows. Jill loved being up in first class on a 747. She was so high off the tarmac, it seemed she could see the whole airport. The fallen snow was piled high alongside the runways, and the airfield lights glowed in that ghostly shade of blue that she never saw anywhere else, and which now was accentuated by the snowfall upon which it reflected.

Snow had also been predicted for the mainland of Europe, and Jill prayed that it would not interfere with her schedule for the week, which was extremely tight. But now, once on board the aircraft, with the door closed and the plane taxiing toward the long runway, there was nothing anyone could do about it, and that was a relief in itself. She began to feel drowsy. At some point, Janet had come silently by and replaced her empty wine glass with a blanket and pillow, which Jill immediately put to good use. She spread the blanket over her gratefully and looked up. From her seat in the front row of first class, she could see Janet, buckling into a crew seat that faced her, about 8 feet away just beyond the galley.

Jill's eyes met Janet's briefly, as the plane began its takeoff roll and the engines began to scream.

'Thank you,' Jill mouthed silently, snuggling obviously into her soft blanketed nest.

'You're welcome,' Janet responded in kind, and laughed a little. She had a very pretty smile, thought Jill. Janet was tall and naturally very elegant-looking. Jill guessed she was about 10 years older than herself, making her about 42, but very attractive nonetheless. Her hair was a deep red and she had hazel eyes and clear skin. Her makeup was impeccable. She had rather long legs, on which she wore regulation blue hose to match her cabin attendant's uniform, which consisted of a blue pinstriped skirt, matching bib apron and white blouse. Her hair was up, out of the way behind her head, and the overall effect was a rather girlish one. 'A really nice person,' Jill thought, as she drifted off to sleep.

She had been asleep for about an hour when a dream came upon her. It was a sexy dream, as was often the case after having a fight with Jack about sex. She dreamed about a time when they were still college students and had gone camping in Cape Hatteras, North Carolina, at the end of their summer vacation. Their tent site was in a private campground about 100 yards from the beach, and it was an easy walk to go for a quick swim anytime they wanted to. It was about midnight, and it was very warm in the tent, so they decided to go swimming. Jack wore a pair of running shorts and she had on a print bra and panty set, that passed at that hour for a bathing suit. It didn't really matter, as there was nobody else on the public path through the campground to the beach, or on the beach itself.

Still, Jill felt a little wicked, wearing just her underwear out in a public place, and the familiar warm feeling began to spread through her genitals. They got to the beach and waded in. It was low tide, and the sea was very calm and very warm. She ducked down just up to her chin in the water, keeping her hair dry; and the unlined bra cups clung to her defenseless nipples, which became immediately erect. She stood up again, waist-deep in the warm sea, and her brassiere, now saturated with water, was nearly invisible, revealing her rampaging nipples.

Jack swam by, stopped in front of her and smiled.

"Look at you," he observed. "You're totally turned on."

"Look who's talking," Jill retorted, gleefully, indicating the substantial erection that had formed in his thin running pants.

"Oh, yeah. What are we going to do about it?" He said, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, feeling her pointed nipples pressing into the flesh of his naked chest through the sopping wet material of her bra.

"Oh, I don't know..."

"How 'bout this?" Jack released her, and slid his shorts off in the warm, dark water. His erection sprang free, hard and stiff between them.

"That's a start," Jill allowed. She kissed him and fondled his cock in the lovely, warm night.

"I want you now," Jack said urgently, but I'm not going back to that freakin' tent. It's too goddamned hot."

"Well, what then?" Jill smiled.

With that, Jack covered her mouth with his, and, still naked and holding his shorts in his left hand, he swept her off her feet and into his arms. He turned and carried her thus to the shore. 

The night was moonless and the sea was silent. About twenty yards from the surf line were some open block huts with picnic tables in them. Jack carried her there and lay her gently on the cool table top. He bent over her and kissed her deeply. Jill sat up briefly and looked deep into his eyes, then reached around and undid the clasp on her bra, which fell away from her copious breasts. She slid the wet panties down and off, and then she too was quite naked. There were no people about and they could have heard anyone coming a mile away, so they felt relaxed. Still, there was that feeling of doing something forbidden, of being nude where it was not allowed, that added to their excitement. They were ready.

Jill lay back with her buttocks just at the edge of the table top. She spread her thighs slowly to him, and felt the glorious, sticky wetness of her fluids already flowing liberally.

Standing on the cool cement floor of the hut, Jack entered her slowly, and pulled her gently to him by her hips. Luxuriating in the sensation as her cunt lips effortlessly parted to receive him, Jill lay on the table and gazed at him. She lay there, deliciously impaled, very nude in a very public place, her arousal growing by the second; but Jack remained nearly motionless, his expression a mixture of agony and pleasure. Jill looked at him quizzically.

"If I start moving now, I'm going to come in about ten seconds," Jack said, suddenly, almost laughing at his predicament.

"I was just thinking the same thing. If you so much as touch my clit right now I'm going to explode."

"Oh, good," said Jack, relieved. And with that, he lay two fingers on either side of Jill's swollen clitoris and began to rub gently, while he began stroking smoothly into her soaking wet pussy.

Jill's eyes shut and her head rolled back, as her sexual pleasure overtook her. She could feel Jack's cock enlarging more and more, as he stroked her pussy in time with the rhythm of his fucking. His eyes glazed over and the luscious sensation of an oncoming orgasm captivated him. He was so turned on that he forgot where he was and what he was doing. He lost his balance momentarily, and he gripped the sides of the table to keep from falling, resultantly removing his hand from her cunt. Recovering his composure, he apologized.

"Sorry about that," he said, and reached for her clit again; but Jill took his wrist gently and held it back.

"It's okay, baby...I'll do that part. You just keep doing what you're doing." And with that, she slid her right hand down her belly. Locking eyes with Jack, she reached her left hand up to her right breast and fingered her distended nipple, while she began to rub her soaking pussy with her right.

"You are so fuckin' hot, I can't believe it," Jack exclaimed, breathless. "Are you trying to make me come right now?"

"Yes," she replied wickedly, and increased the speed of her own hand on her clit.

"You better mean that, because . . .shit . . . I can't believe . . . oh, God . . .

The combination of their public nudity and Jill's lascivious show of self-stimulation was at last too much for Jack, and he came off inside her with a gasp. Jill so close to coming that she scarcely felt him climax, aflame with lust as she was; with her own two fingers deep in the sodden mass of her pussy she rubbed herself furiously for just a few seconds, and in that time her orgasm reared over her like a tidal wave on the nearby sea . . .She was about to come, naked on the beach with her lover's cock still hard inside her . . .like a wave, it was coming . . .almost . . .almost . . .

Jill woke with a start, and for a time she didn't know where she was. She thought for a moment that she must have fallen asleep in the recliner in the TV room at their beach house, and figured she'd better get up and let the dog out, and get into bed. The lap belt pulled her back into the seat, and she realized where she was.

'Christ,' she thought, 'what a dream!' She was sweating slightly, and she was very, very wet between her legs. It was normal of her to dream of happy past sexual times when she was fighting with Jack about sex. It was extremely normal of her to wake up just before attaining orgasm in her dream, she reflected wryly.

The first class cabin was quiet. Dinner was over and the lights were dimmed for sleeping. Her pillow was under her back, and her blanket was in the aisle. She leaned over the arm of the seat with her left hand and attempted to retrieve it. Janet, the flight attendant, observed this from her crew seat, unbuckled swiftly and got it for her.

"Oh, thank you," Jill said. "I was sleeping."

"Well, yes, I know," Janet replied, with a big smile. "You've been out cold for four hours. You slept through dinner and the movie, and now we're about 4 hours from the gate at Heathrow. Are you okay."

"Yes, I...I just had a dream, and it woke me up."

"Nice dream or nightmare?"

"Um...pretty nice, I have to say. The kind you wish you didn't wake up from."

"I think I know what you mean," Janet ventured, and laughed gently. She regarded Jill for a moment. "Would you like a glass of water?"

"Yes, please," Jill replied, feeling suddenly about ten years old, getting a drink from her mommy.

Janet went briefly into the galley and returned.

"I just ran out of cups, but I called down to Coach for some, and they'll be right up."

A few seconds later, she heard someone coming up the spiral stairs from the lower deck; it was another flight attendant, who appeared with a stack of cups and went into the galley.

"'Who is it for?" Jill heard the new girl ask Janet, just out of sight in the galley.

"She's in seat 1-B."

"I'll take it out to her."

The other girl came out with Jill's ice water. Her name was Carol, and she was short and pretty, with shoulder-length black hair and a very perky disposition.

"Here you go. This is from Janet. She's filling the cup dispenser, so I brought it out for you."

"Thank you so much," Jill said, and promptly drank it.

"No problem. Do you want anything else, or are you going to sleep?"

"Sleep, I think," Jill said.

"Okay. You know where we are if you want us," Carol said, smiling, and left her then. Janet snuggled back down into her blanket and pillow and tried to relax once more. She caught sight of Janet, who switched off the light in the galley and went back to her crew seat once more. She buckled in, again facing Jill, and stretched out her long legs before her, and closed her eyes, keeping one ear awake, as always, for the chime of the passenger call button.

The air was smooth and the plane seemed motionless, suspended between earth and heaven. It was dark and quiet again in the cabin, and Jill closed her eyes once more. She began to drift again, between sleep and wakefulness, from dream to reality. She dozed fitfully, and dreamed again of her lovemaking on the beach with Jack so long ago. In her half-conscious state, sexual arousal began to grow in her once more, and Jill suddenly had the urge to masturbate. The dream had been so intense, so real, that she had been genuinely aroused, and she wanted conscious fulfillment for what had begun as only a dream.

She looked around. Everyone was asleep; even Janet dozed in her crew seat at the front of the cabin. Beneath the blanket, her hands began to roam. 'I can't believe I'm doing this,' she thought momentarily. 'But then, why not?' She rationalized. 'Nobody's awake, nobody's looking, nobody can see . . .' This was not the kind of thing she was used to doing, but her need was extreme. She really wanted an orgasm.

Still covered by the blanket, Jill slid her right hand under the waistband of her fleece pants, and ran her fingers over the silky fabric of her panties. An excruciating shock of pleasure ran through her, and her nipples sprang instantly to stiff, round tips. She ran her left hand up under her shirt and stroked both nipples through her bra, while softly rubbing her nylon-covered crotch. She was beginning to be seriously aroused.

'What the fuck am I doing?' She thought, with sudden apprehension. 'What if someone wakes up? What if someone sees?' But with that thought, her arousal suddenly intensified, became urgent. The thought of being discovered, of doing something forbidden, suddenly made her feel very wicked.

'Fuck it,' she decided, and abandoned caution to the winds over the Atlantic.

Jill stretched her long legs out toward the bulkhead before her, and the tips of her fur-trimmed booties just touched the wall. She tried not to disturb the covering blanket while her hands began to move in earnest. Jill slipped her right hand under the waistband of her panties and parted her pussy lips gently. It was unbelievably wet, and she stretched two fingers out, one on either side of her clitoris, and her hand began to move in a slow, circular motion. At the same time, she slipped her left hand under the fabric of her bra, and took her right nipple between her fingers, and rolled it slowly.

Jill was getting ready to come. She looked around one more time, saw only sleeping figures. No one moved; and though she was afraid of getting caught, the mere fact that there was a chance of getting caught was a huge turn on. In her sexual heart, she faced a new fact about herself: she actually wanted to get caught. She wanted someone to see!

It would not take her long. Wild images flashed through her ecstatic mind. She was back on the beach with Jack, with her legs dangling off the end of the table in the little beach hut, and she stroked and stroked her pussy while he plunged effortlessly, in and out of her drenched cunt. Her arousal built to a fever pitch, and she was trying not to make any noise or show any movement outside her blanket. Keeping quiet was no trouble, but keeping still was another matter. Her hips ground almost involuntarily against her hand. She knew she was visibly moving about now, but when she was this aroused she just didn't care.

Beneath the blanket, she slid her hands down her sides, and pushed her sweats and panties down to her knees. Unhindered by clothing, she gained free access to her clitoris and labia, and she gently worked three fingers of her left hand between her pussy lips, and stroked her clit, now with the firm, full pressure of her right hand. Half-naked under the blanket, with a plane full of people around her, Jill fist-fucked herself like there was no tomorrow. Terrified of being discovered, yet powerless to stop, she spiraled rapidly toward orgasm. In moments, she attained that point of no return at which orgasm was inevitable, but at the same time she fought to resist it, to prolong her ecstasy. She moved her hand slower and slower, and all her limbs tautened in the struggle between the desire to climax versus the desire to feel this way forever. Finally, she clamped her hand over her swollen pussy and pressed hard, and a distant scream began to cry out in her head. She was almost . . . almost!

And then a bell went off just behind her. Someone was calling the flight attendant, and Janet was unbuckling to help the other passenger. She would walk right past her...

Jill hung, suspended and paralyzed, fighting off the urge to climax but terrified that she would be discovered. Her hand cupped her vulva harder and harder, but resistance was futile...

Janet looked at Jill as she went up the aisle and smiled at her as she went past, then Jill let herself go at last. Climax crashed over her like the sea in a Cape Hatteras hurricane. Contractions seized her entire torso, seemingly, and wave after wave of sexual lust and fulfillment pounded through her. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and rode the wave in. Gradually, the roar of the sea was stilled, and the throbbing of her pussy faded away.




Come, Fly, With Me



Jill was exhausted. She managed to pull her panties and her sweats back up where they belonged and rearrange her blanket to a semblance of the highly modest and virtuous woman that she was not; but then, pole-axed, she fell at once to sleep.

About two hours later, she was awakened by the first sunlight of the new day, over the sea west of the Irish coast. She stretched, catlike, and found herself curiously refreshed. She discreetly sidled off to the rest room with her small carry-on bag. She spent a few minutes freshening up with comb and toothbrush, then touched up her lips and eyes. After applying some deodorant and cologne, she stepped back into the passenger cabin. Breakfast was about to be served, and Janet was bustling about the cabin, assisted for the moment by Carol, who helped get the first class passenger service settled in the galley, then skipped back down the spiral stairs to the coach deck. Janet emerged from the galley.

"Hungry yet?" Janet asked, gaily.

"Oh, yes," Jill replied sweetly, "very much so. I believe I could eat the proverbial horse."

"I bet you could, after such a night," Janet smiled, a little preciously. "I mean, after such a long sleep, and everything . . . I'll get your breakfast," she concluded, and went off to the galley.

'And everything?' Jill wondered what that meant, exactly. Had she been a little too obvious that night? Had Janet seen? Would the stewardess say anything else to her? Was there . . .

More to COME . . .?



Come Fly with Me



Jack looked out of the window at the city as the plane made it's descent into JFK International. He was brimming with emotion, part fear, part excitement. He was unsure if he had made the right decision to travel around the world for a girl whom he had met online. Part of him felt a bit wrong that he had met someone online, a strange remnant of his age, not quite sure of what people would think. Another part of him was scared that this was all some sick joke on his part, and he was terrified of being hurt.

As the seatbelt sign came on, Jack pushed this terrible thoughts from his mind. He was going to be in one of his favourite cities in the world, with a gorgeous girl he loved and who loved him back. That was the part he couldn't quite get his head around, she actually loved him back!

Once the plane landed, Jack picked his bag up and waited for the eager passengers to push their way out the cabin door and he slowly followed them out. He smiled at the tired looking flight attendants and thanked them immensely for all they had done, a token none of the other passengers had offered, so they were both surprised and grateful.

Since he was traveling alone, Jack was able to clear customs and get his back quite quickly, while most of the people on his flight struggled to keep all their groups together. Before he knew it, he was getting in a cab and on the way to the city.

"Washington Heights, thanks," he asked the cab driver as he shut his eyes. While he had slept on the plane, he was still tired and thought he should get some more rest in on the long-ish drive into the city. Besides, it was dark and there was much to look at when driving on the highway.

He paid the cab driver and took his bag up the apartment he was renting for his stay. Not too bad a choice at all, he thought as he had a look around the place. A nice sized living area and a bedroom with a massive queen size bed.

He took his phone out and dialled her number. It didn't even get the chance to ring once before there was an answer.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end was breathy and a little bit nervous.

"Hey Chrissy baby," he said, trying not to match the nervousness himself. "I just arrived, so I could come meet you somewhere if you like."

"Oh I know," said Christina, "I'm standing across the road."

"You're what?" Jack walked across to the window and looked out. Sure enough, across the road was a cute petite girl waving up at him. "Well are you going to come up?"

"I don't know, do you want me to?" She teased and poked her tongue out at him.

"Come on, it's cold out there." She didn't need any prompting after that. It was pretty cold outside and she longed to be in his arms. She ran up the stairs and saw him standing there with the door wide open. She jumped up into his arms and he held her tight.

"Daddy! I'm so glad you're here!" Christina kissed his cheek and when she came away she saw that he had tears in his eyes. This in turn made her start to cry with joy. The fact that this was first time they were seeing each other for the first time made them both rather emotional. "Oh my god! I can't believe this is happening."

"Hehe, the way you say that is even funnier in real life." Jack pulled her inside the apartment and shut the door. He led her to the couch and they sat down, holding each other close. "Maybe we should go and get some food, I'm super hungry. Let me just go get my coat."

"Nooo!" Christina cried, but stopped when a cheeky smile crept across Jack's face. "Oh my god, stop. You're such a tease."

"Do you really think there's anything I'd rather be doing right now?" Before she could have a chance to reply, Jack pulled her close and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. Christina melted into his arms and returned the kiss. Her lips parted as his tongue probed out and she entwined her tongue with his, softly moaning as he sucked on hers.

His hand slowly massaged its way up to her breast and squeezed it over the top of her sweater. Although this felt great, it wasn't enough for the animal urges that had taken Jack over. Breaking the kiss, he grabbed the bottom hem of Christina's sweater and pulled it up over head, revealing two perfect breasts covered by a sexy white bra with black piping.

Satisfied with this amount of skin for now, Jack started to softly kiss her neck, nibbling her skin as he did so. A soft moan escaped Christina's mouth as she felt sparks of electricity shooting from where Jack was kissing to her now soaked pussy. When Jack got to her shoulder, he slid the strap of the bra over the edge and reached behind her to unclasp the bra all together.

As he pulled it away, he admired her perfect breasts. They were the perfect size for Jack, not so small that he could cover the whole thing with his hand, but not so big that it was spilling out all over the place. Just perfect. They were perky and crowned with amazing dark nipples that pointed straight at Jack. He couldn't resist himself. He just had to see how they tasted. 

Jack lowered his head to the perky breast and took her breast in his mouth. Christina inhaled sharply and moaned as he sucked on her nipple. Getting cocky, he decided to bite down which elicited a louder moan and her eyes rolled back as her head flopped on the back of the couch.

He released her nipple and kissed the area below her breast. He continued to kiss lower and lower as he got off the couch and positioned himself on his knees between her legs. As he kissed the area above her jeans, Jack began to undo the buttons holding them up. Slowly he pulled them down, more in an effort to tease her than anything else. And it was working. Christina wanted to help tear them off, lifting her hips and starting to pull them down herself.

Jack swatted her hands away. "No, this is a present that I want to savour in it's unwrapping." She giggled and bit her lip as she let him go about his business. He pulled the jeans down to reveal a pair of sexy white panties with black ribbons on the front. "Mmm, I remember these," he said as he bit the fabric with his teeth. Underneath his lips he could feel how wet she was and pushed his nose in to smell her alluring aroma.

Christina giggled as she looked down at this sexy guy between her now naked legs. She had waited for this moment for months and was absolutely aching for him to touch her wanting clit. As he pulled his face away, she pushed her hips up to follow him, not wanting the warmth and touch to disappear. Taking this moment to surprise her, Jack yanked her panties off completely.

She lay there stupefied for a moment, excited by this brash gesture, but also completely naked. She felt the urge to cover up, but didn't because she knew Jack loved her and wanted to soak in her beauty. And that's exactly what he did. Her cute little pussy was completely waxed. Her inner pussy lips were peeking out a little bit and at the top of her slit poked her sexy little clitty, excited and ready for his tongue.

Jack lowered his head in the direction of her slit, but at the last second turned his head and kissed the crease of her thigh, close enough though for her to feel his stubbled cheek on her lip. She bucked her hips as he kissed away from her pussy.

"Nooo!" she moaned. It was unfair what he was doing to her. She wanted to relieve the immense amount of pressure she had built up from edging herself all week beforehand in anticipation of his arrival. Jack was not cruel enough to do this to her on the other leg and wanted desperately to taste her. 

With excited enthusiasm he gave one long stroke of her slit with his tongue. Christina's legs quivered. The feeling of his tongue on her pussy was electric. Her breathing became more and more heavy as his tongue worked her slowly, getting close to her clit, but not quite touching it. He hips were moving up and down wanting the contact. Without warning, his whole mouth was on her clit, sucking and lapping at it with his tongue at the same time. "Oh shit! That's it baby. Right there." She moaned so loud with delight, she knew for sure that the whole city could hear her, but didn't care at all. 

To add to the pleasure, Jack got two of his fingers and began to slowly push them into her dripping hole, bending them as he did so and hitting the spongy g-spot. This was thing that really pushed her over the edge. The orgasm tore through Christina and she gripped Jack's head tightly between her thighs and moaned in complete ecstasy.

As her breathing returned slowly to normal, Jack crawled up and lay beside her own the couch. "Mmm, you taste amazing babygirl."

"Oh, do you think I could have a taste?" Jack smirked and leaned in and gave her a kiss. While he did have some on his tongue, her juices were located mostly on his chin and she didn't want that to go to waste. With her small, soft tongue Christina licked his chin and smiled in delight and how good she tasted, especially when it was coming off him. 

Looking up at him, she batted her eyelashes and asked in her cutest voice, "Is it my turn to taste you?" As much as he'd love to get his dick sucked right at that moment, Jack shook his head and she pouted.

"I know how much you want to do that, but I want to feel inside you even more." Her eyes lit up the idea of having him inside her and making her come for the second time in a row. Jack unbuttoned his own jeans and pulled them down with his underwear. He made no attempt to tease her or let her imagination do any work at all. He desperately wanted this moment and had had an erection for the last twenty-one hours, the length of time that was his flight.

Christina stared wide-eyed as his boner popped out. It was a lot bigger than what she had imagined it would be. His seven inch uncut cock stood proudly and pointed directly at her. Her mouth watered at the idea of sucking on it, but she knew she would be punished if she made an attempt to do that. A tiny part of her mind told her that she wanted that punishment, but the overriding desire to have him fill her with his cock was too much.

Jack rubbed his hard cock up and down her wet slit. "You want this, don't you babygirl?" She bit her lip and nodded. He slowly pushed his cock into her welcoming canal. It was warm and tight and she gasped as he pushed himself the whole way inside. He didn't stop until his cock was pushed right up to her cervix. He looked down into her eyes. "Is this alright?"

"Mmmm daddy, that feels so good!" She looked up at him, her big blue eyes filled with love for him. Jack started to pump his hard cock in and out of her tight pussy. He built up speed with each thrust, moaning with pleasure with each thrust. Christina could feel his cock poking at her womb and felt a new excitement she hadn't felt before. Soon she was on the edge of another orgasm.

Jack could tell from the look on her face that she was close, but he wanted to experience it at the same time as her so he slowed his pumps. Christina pouted her lips when she realised what he was doing, but he just bent down and bit it. She giggled and then gasped as Jack started to build his pace up again, his own orgasm approaching. 

Christina moaned with glee as this pushed her to her own orgasm, pulling Jack close by wrapping her legs around his waist. He leaned in and kissed her deeply and passionately as they both came at the same time, Christina's pussy muscles squeezing every last drop of cum from his cock. They both moaned in delight and held each other as they came down from their first orgasm together.

They lay there on the couch, Jack holding Christina in his arms. "Just a little welcome gift," she said with a giggle. Jack laughed and kissed her on the forehead.

***

"Would you like to look at the dessert menu?" The waiter came to take their plates away after they had finished their main meal. Jack and Christina had found a small intimate restaurant after enjoying a day of wondering around the Met, almost getting caught when she was giving him a blowjob in one of the smaller side galleries.

"Yes, thank you," said Jack, taking the menu. He opened it and started looking through the pages.

"Aren't you going to let me have a look?" asked Christina with a pout.

"Too late, we're getting the perfect thing." The waiter came back to the table. "Yes, can we get the cheese plate?"

Taking the menu, the waiter said, "Excellent choice." 

Once he had left, Jack gave Christina a coy look. "See, daddy knows best."

"Mmm, yes you do," she said winking back at him. Jack was slightly surprised by the wink, until he felt her foot come up and start stroking his thigh. The instant arousal that this gave him caused Jack to let out a sharp, but soft, moan.

"Oh you're bad. If you don't stop that I'm going to have to spank you here in front of all these people." That didn't stop Christina in the slightest. Instead, she slid her foot closer to his now rock-hard cock. She giggled and pulled some hairs to her mouth and bit on them. "I'm serious babe." Jack was absolutely squirming in his seat.

"Hehe, you know I'd love if you did that," Christina giggled. As much as she was enjoying torturing her daddy here at the restaurant, she knew what was going to await her once they got back to the apartment. That didn't stop her at all, however. She was so excited at the prospect of her punishment that her panties were already soaking wet. And the more she pushed him to the edge, the wetter she got at the thought of the punishment.

The waiter cleared his throat as he approached the table. He saw young lovebirds like this all the time and he knew the right way to announce his arrival. He was glad he had made the right decision in giving them this dark corner table. He set the plate on the table and bid them well.

Jack's face was bright red. He knew the waiter had understood what was going on and was absolutely mortified. Christina just giggled and started to cut a slice of the cheese. He leaned forward. "Now you're really going to get it missy."

"Oh boy, I can't wait," she smiled and popped the cheese in her mouth. Jack was incredulous with how brash she was. Maybe he had been to lenient with her. Luckily he had bought something that afternoon from a sneaky visit to a sex shop that would definitely set her straight. He couldn't have her being like this, most of all in public.

He began to slice some of the sharp cheddar and took a bite. "How great is this?" he said with pleasure. Christina moaned as well as she ate some of the creamy brie. The cheese was definitely, but weirdly turning them on. "Umm, I think we should definitely get the check." Christina nodded and he caught the attention of the waiter.

As soon as they paid, they ran to the nearest subway. Thankfully the train was right there and they jumped onto it. Since it was pretty late, the train was slightly empty, but Christina still decided to sit on Jack's lap. He glad let her sit there and held onto her waist. But soon enough Christina's naughty streak began to kick in and she was wiggling her ass on his crotch, knowing exactly how to excite him.

Jack bit his lip as he felt his stiff cock straining against his jeans and poking Christina straight into her butt. She moaned as she felt how excited she was making him and wondered how much he was going to hurt her for all she had done during the night. She had to quickly stop herself from the thoughts of his hand slapping hard against her fleshy ass, only because she was going to give herself an orgasm right here on the train.

Jack leaned forward and growled in her ear, "Hmm, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into here babe. Get ready for a world of hurt." She moaned loudly as he said this. The one stoner with headphones in their looked up as though something had happened, but soon just went back to his head bobbing in time with his tunes.

Their station came up and they bounded out the doors before they even had time to open. Before they even realised it, they were back in the apartment bedroom, kissing passionately. But this two-sided affair wasn't going to last long at all.

"Strip!" Jack said in authoritative tone. Christina did as she was told, but didn't do it with any immediacy that she normally would have. She had gotten some sexy new lingerie, complete with garter belt, just because she knew how much it would turn Jack on. 

While she was doing this, Jack sat and the end of the bed and looked up at her. He wanted nothing more than to reach up and take her lovingly in his arms, but knew that this wasn't the time for that. Once she was standing there only in her underwear, she went to bend over his knee, ready for her spanking. Before she could, Jack stopped her, "Over in my bag, just on the top, is something which I think you're going to appreciate a lot."

Puzzled, Christina walked over to Jack's luggage and opened it. Sitting directly on top was a brand new spanking paddle. It was made of wood and covered in leather that was stapled to the paddle. She stared at wide-eyed, wondering if she could get any wetter. She took it over to him, "Here you go, Daddy."

Jack took the paddle from her and she lay across his knees. He lay the paddle next to him on the bed. He didn't want to use it just yet. He stroked his fingertips across Christina's firm ass. All her working out at cheer practice had really paid off. Despite it's firmness, it was also juicy and Jack got a good handful of it and squeezed. He could feel her trembling in anticipation and didn't want to prolong her suffering any further.

He pulled his hand hand away and came back a firm, but light whack. Christina bucked on his lap, but made no attempt to pull away. It was a light one to begin with. She knew that he liked to start slowly. She also knew that by the end she would be whimpering.

Whack! While she was busy thinking about her soon to be whimpering mouth, Christina hadn't noticed Jack withdraw his hand for the next smack on her ass. She wiggled her ass, moaning at how great it felt.

"Has my babygirl learnt her lesson yet? That it's not right to tease her daddy when we're out in public," he asked, smacking her ass harder as he said it. Red handprints were already showing and he was getting turned on so much at seeing her ass glow.

"But daddy...," she moaned, feeling another hit, "I thought you loved me so much that you wanted to have me everywhere."

He spanked her again. "Hmm babygirl, I think you misunderstood what I was saying. I do want to have you everywhere. But there's a difference between that and teasing." He rubbed his hand on her ass, now red all over.

"Hehe, I don't see any," Christina giggled, knowing it would make Daddy more mad that she was not interpreting the rules exactly the way he liked them. He gave her ass one more whack and then began to take off her panties. She lifted up her hips to make this easier for him and was surprised when she felt his lips come and give her a soft kiss on one of her cheeks.

Before she even had time to process this tender gesture, she felt another slap on her ass. But this hadn't come from his hand. No, it was firmer and there was the slightest hint of coolness just as the pain kicked in. It hurt a lot more than his hand and she let out a yelp as she felt another and another. Soon she was squirming in his lap, small tears running down her cheeks. "Please Daddy, stop! I'll be a good girl now. I swear."

Just when she felt the paddle come away for another spank, she tensed, but nothing came. Instead, Daddy was rubbing her ass with his hand. "I believe you babygirl. You understand why I have to do this?" Chrissy sniffled and nodded her head. Rather than say anything to praise her acknowledgement, Daddy let his fingers find her dripping pussy. She moaned as he rubbed her lips and slid his finger inside her juicy pussy with no effort whatsoever.

Daddy pulled Chrissy off his lap and spread his legs so that she was kneeling between them. He caressed her face and put one of his thumbs in her mouth to suck. She held onto his wrists with both hands and closed her eyes. "You're so beautiful babygirl. Since you've been really good, I think you've earned a treat." She looked up at him with big blue eyes in excitement.




Come Fly with Me



"Can I suck on it Daddy?" He nodded and she got to work undoing his jeans. She pulled them down a little and pulled out his cock. Chrissy loved the look of her Daddy's cock. It was so big and she was surprised that it even fit in her mouth, let alone any of her other tight holes.

She held it in her little hand and looked at it. Slowly she pulled the foreskin down so that the big angry red cock head was showing. Knowing that Daddy had a sensitive cock, Chrissy took small gentle licks of it, making it nice and wet. But at the same time, her mouth began to water and she desperately longed to fill her mouth with it.

Chrissy opened her mouth and took the head of his cock in. She slowly increased the suction, until her cheeks were hollow, all the while flicking the tip of her tongue against Daddy's cock. She realised that it was the same technique that he used when playing with her own little clitty. Thinking of that made her pussy throb and she quickly put one hand down between her legs to satiate her burning desire.

Decide to stop teasing Daddy's cock, Chrissy opened her mouth wider and impaled her head on his cock. She relaxed her throat muscles until it was as far as it could go and felt the veins on his cock pump and he groaned in delight. Chrissy wanted to hold it for longer, but soon she was gasping for air. Her eyes were watering as she looked up at Daddy, who stroked her cheek with his hand. "Good girl. I'm so proud of you." Chrissy was spurred on by this praise and began bobbing her head up and down on his meaty cock.

Daddy lay back on the bed and groaned in delight. Chrissy could feel his balls tighten up and started stroking his cock with one hand while just sucking the head. Soon she could feel his sweet cum pulsing into her mouth, filling it all the way to the back of her throat. She gulped down the thick juice all the while enjoying the taste that was splashing on her tongue. With one last grunt and a thrust of his hips, Daddy shot his final blast of cum.

Daddy smiled weakly down at Chrissy as she crawled her way up next to him. She kissed his cheek and cuddled his shoulder, one leg draped over his spreadeagled form. He turned to lie on his side so that they were facing one another. Jack looked directly into her eyes and said, "I love you so much Christina."

Christina closed her eyes and had a soft grin on her face. "I love you too, Jack," she said as she hugged him tight. "And I don't want this moment to end. Ever."

Jack smiled. "Well I have a bit of a surprise for you." Christina looked at him quizzically. "I didn't actually book a flight home. I'm kind of staying here indefinitely."