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Cross Country Flight

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At last, I knew what it must be like to be a part of a zombie horde.

I wasn’t actually victim of an undead plague; I was merely one of a hundred or so passengers on the first cross-country flight out for the day. We ambled onto the plane slowly, stowing our luggage and taking our seats with the speed and enthusiasm of those mindless creatures.

I found my seat. It was a window seat which, for someone 6’3 such as myself, is not the treat one would expect. I had hoped for an aisle seat and the accompanying leg room, but no such luck. I was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt; just enough to avoid the “homeless chic” look that seems to be all the rage among too many air travelers nowadays. Oh well, once electronics are allowed again I can throw my headphones on and tune the world out for a few hours.

Toward the end of the boarding process I spotted a woman who had clearly missed the “Walking Dead” casting call memo the rest of the passengers got. Far from our slow crawl, she strode with a purpose, carried ably by two of the most curvaceous legs I had ever seen. Her tight jeans accentuated her perfect form. As I looked up at her, I saw she had a beaming smile that certainly did not fit the hour or the setting. A smile that was suddenly covered by her long, auburn hair as she tripped over the older gentleman in the aisle seat, almost landing in my lap.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I’m such a klutz!”

Given that her stumble had given me a suddenly up-close look at her beautiful, probably C-cup breasts, and the black bra that cradled them, I was more than willing to forgive the intrusion. She slid her bag on the floor, and took the middle seat next to me. I was able to steal another admiring glance down her shirt as she struggled to bayan arkadaş get settled in and buckled up. Not an unpleasant distraction before I tried to sleep away as much of the 5.5 hour flight as I could.

She had other ideas. She introduced herself, and proceeded to tell me about herself. She worked in real estate. She was a swimmer (which, in hindsight, explains her incredible body as well as her burst of early morning energy). She would occasionally lean over me to look out the window. Her forward nature I found odd, but I could hardly argue with having such a magnificent creature rubbing against me, no matter how inadvertent. I’m guessing most people reacted likewise to her, so she never had the need to develop boundaries.

I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but I found myself spellbound. I tried my best not to look down her blouse, lest I come off as a leering creep. But to the extent I managed to look away from her breasts, I was captured by her luscious lips. At one point in her story (I think she went to college, but who really knows) I had spaced out and started imagining the feeling of her lips on mine, then working their way down my body, before coming to rest in between my legs…

I shifted in my seat, trying to hide my growing erection.

“Oh gosh, I’ve been talking for an hour straight! To be honest, I think I’ve even managed to bore myself to sleep. We still have a long ways to go on this flight, I think I’m going to get a little shut-eye.”

She flagged down the flight attendant to request a blanket and pillow. As she settled in, she draped the blanket over both our laps. Again, a bit strange, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell this beautiful, bubbly woman to respect boundaries (what bayan partner few of them existed when crammed together on a plane, anyway). She rolled over, curled up in her seat, and closed her eyes. Her squirming in her seat had managed to pull her shirt down slightly, giving m1e an even better view of her breasts. With her eyes closed, I felt less pressure to avert my gaze, and instead fully enjoyed the view. The only pressure I felt was in my pants. This woman had managed to make me forget all about my miserable surroundings; all I could think about was how much I wanted her.

I was alone with my lustful thoughts for about 20 minutes when she shifted in her seat again. Just then, I felt her hand come to rest on my leg, just above my knee. Fuuuuck, this is not going to make my situation any easier! I was so preoccupied with keeping a straight face so that nobody knew what I was enduring, that I missed the sly grin on her face as she inched her fingers up my leg. There’s no way this was accidental, was there? The soft massage she gave my thigh told me it was not. I peeked down at her to see her staring back at me, a mischievous look in her eyes. She pulled her hand off my leg, and brought a slender finger to her lips in the universal “shhh” sign, before sliding her hand back under the blanket. She traced that same finger across my thigh until she was brushing against my now rock-hard cock. She dragged her finger along the bulge in my pants slowly, running a single finger up and down my shaft. She pressed her palm against me as she walked her fingers up along the zipper. The teasing was driving me crazy. I looked around to see if anyone else knew what was going on; our seatmate was sound asleep, and everyone else was either napping bdsm escort or lost in their own little world.

Not her; she knew exactly what she was doing to me. She stifled a giggle when I looked down at her, as she slid down my zipper. As my cock was already straining against my pants, she had no problem slipping it through the open fly. The only thing between me and an indecent-exposure charge was a thin airline blanket, and this woman had left me unable to care. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was her lips silently forming the words “enjoy.” She slid her fingernail up my exposed member before gripping it softly. She expertly massaged my cock, only stopping long enough to lick her fingers before resuming her attention. She ran her hand up and down the shaft, occasionally taking a break to massage my balls. I was trying to look inconspicuous, but I couldn’t help sliding down my seat, lifting my hips forward, unconsciously moving with the rhythm of her hand. Her skin was smooth, her grip just firm enough. She teased the head, wiping my pre-cum off with her finger before continuing to stroke my cock. I could feel myself so close to cumming. She must have sensed it too; she tightened her grip slightly, and with the skill of an expert masseuse, gave one final rub, sending me over the edge. I gripped the arm rest tight, doing everything I could not to make a sound as this goddess brought me to orgasm on a plane full of strangers.

When I was finished, I awkwardly reached under the sheet to put my cock back and zip up my jeans. Just then she “woke up,” grinning at me the entire time as she bundled up the now-stained blanket. “Looks like I woke up just in time for our final descent.”

I was speechless. For her part, she didn’t say a word after that. She merely gathered her things, and we left the plane. Me, my head was still spinning; was this even real? That question was answered when we got to the terminal. She slipped a business card in my pocket, and leaned close to me. “Call me when you get back to town.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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