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Robyn missed her jumper. She’d packed it in the overhead compartment, foolishly, thinking it unnecessary. Montreal had been warm so surely the rest of the world would be, too. But, in the recycled air of this cruising Airbus, she wasn’t far off shivering.
Of course, the option existed to fetch it — but, being at the window seat, she’d have to disturb the two people to her right. The nearest, a young Chinese girl about her age, with black bangs and round glasses and skin like porcelain, dressed in dark jeans and a stripy white-maroon top, was reading on her tablet, lost in the digitised words, and the other was old, bald, and asleep. There were only, what, three, maybe four more hours before they’d reach Stansted? Robyn could bear to shiver that long.
It was getting dark outside — the sky furthest away, southwards, looked as if it had been set on fire. Below, nothing but a dark blanket of clouds, beneath which hid the boundless Atlantic. And here Robyn was, above it all, thirty-seven thousand feet and soaring at a speed beyond what any human ought to achieve. How seamless it felt. How cramped her legs were. She fidgeted relentlessly, all through the flight, and really hoped the girl next to her didn’t mind. It didn’t seem to bother her — she’d been absorbed in her tablet since take-off, tapping intermittently to summon the next page of whatever endless tome she was reading. Robyn had also noticed, about an hour in, that she could have been singing the Macarena and might have disturbed every passenger and irritated flight attendant but still wouldn’t disrupt the girl beside her — because, curling over the outside of her ear, was a bright blue hearing aid, turning to a wire which snaked into her ear itself. Robyn didn’t know how much her neighbour could hear but she was grateful that, were she to sneeze or cough or shit herself from the dog food which British Airways called chicken korma, she wouldn’t have to feel any guilt.
It grew dark enough that, eventually, the cabin lights dimmed. Most of the heads which Robyn could see over the seats were lolling or resting. She and her neighbour and the occasional patrolling flight attendant seemed the only people left awake as they floated through heaven. Robyn tried, several times, to sleep herself, but wasn’t tired. Once, it had been impossible to fly because of how much it scared the hell out of her. Many, many flights later, and it all became second nature — but, this time, she couldn’t sleep because of her anxieties about what waited for her on the ground, not up here in the Earth’s thin aether. Max, she was more certain with each passing minute, had dumped her while she was up here, and upon landing the confirmatory text would pop up on her phone. The trip had been a failure from start to finish — she’d arrived at his apartment in the Alexis Nihon Complex completely unannounced, surprising him, thinking it a romantic moment for his birthday, which happened to fall also on their sixth anniversary. His face when he opened the door to see her told her what a mistake it had been. Two weeks of uncomfortable silences and awkward meals followed. All that money… all that time… all that love… gone to waste. Robyn sniffed, wiping at a tear which hadn’t even come, wondering what she’d do when she got home. Just what in the hell would she do? Go back to work? Carry on as normal? There was no happiness to be found in normal.
Robyn sighed, head moving this way and that, trying to get comfortable in far too little space, unable to bat away the worry. Her neighbour was tapping on her tablet far too loudly — but she’d feel like a dick if she got annoyed at that but not the roar of the turbofans just outside. They were probably disturbing her to a far greater degree. Then, as she turned her head towards the girl, again trying to get comfortable, she happened to glance at the text of her book.
“…Patrick’s cock yearned for her,” it read. “It slid into her so easily, her wetness so inviting, so welcoming, that he couldn’t believe he’d waited so long to fuck her.” Robyn looked away, a stupid grin erupting on her face, staring again out of the window and trying her hardest not to laugh. There was still a chance that the girl would hear her. After all, the whole point of hearing aids is to make you hear. Naturally, being who she was, she couldn’t help but look again. When she did, it was to realise that the whole book seemed to be nothing but this. There was no plot. No characterisation. Just relentless, rather grim shagging, the woman involved clearly enjoying being used as a ragdoll — and this cute little thing was busily reading it with an emotionless expression on her face. Then, to her horror, she looked at Robyn.
Their eyes met — and Robyn, instinctively, looked away, back out of the window. As her head turned, in her periphery she saw the light of the girl’s tablet die. She closed it, left it on her lap, and said nothing. For a long time, still fighting back that stubborn grin, Robyn stared at the darkening world kaçak iddaa outside. Until, of course, she looked back at the girl — and their eyes met once more. They looked away again, the girl staring at the cabin’s ceiling, her pale face rapidly shifting to an altogether pinker hue. Robyn permitted herself to smile — the girl glanced at her, checking if she was looking, which she was, and looked away again, her eyes slamming shut. Robyn looked away and, this time, didn’t look back, closing her eyes. With the moment of levity, she’d unlatched the door in her mind — and sleep finally came through, at last.
It didn’t last long.
As Robyn bumped through a fitful, dreamless slumber, so too did Flight 35 bump through growing turbulence. The whole plane shuddered, as if going through a seizure, and Robyn was knocked awake. She glanced around, half-interested, at the scene as the seatbelt signs switched on and the tannoy came to life.
“Alright, everyone,” said their Geordie pilot, calm as you like, “we’re just going through a patch of nasty turbulence right now. Shouldn’t last too long but if everyone could keep to their seats with their seatbelts fastened that’d be grand.” The plane continued to shake — Robyn remained unbothered. On one flight to Milan, they’d passed through a lightning storm over the Alps. That had been bad. Really bad. The oxygen masks had fallen from the ceiling. It was then that her phobia of flying, strangely, vanished from her mind — for it taught her that it takes a lot more than this altogether mild turbulence to knock a jetliner from the sky.
Her neighbour, however, was not doing so well. Her hands were scrunched up into fists, so tight her knuckles had gone ghost-white, and her eyes were slammed shut, forcing out heavy breaths through the rattling and the shaking. The plane jerked, as if it had sudden fallen a dozen feet, and one sweaty fist suddenly opened and grabbed Robyn’s hand. Robin squeezed it — the girl didn’t open her eyes, so couldn’t see the sympathetic look she was receiving, and so she just held her trembling hand.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Robyn told her, unsure if she was being heard. “I’ve been through way worse.” She got no reply.
Soon enough, the turbulence eased, then faded altogether. The seatbelt sign switched off and, slowly, the girl let go of her hand. She glanced at Robyn, who smiled, and she smiled weakly back. Robyn looked away, back out of the window, and tried to return to the sleep which the atmosphere had so rudely denied her. Her eyes must have only been closed for a few seconds before she felt a timid tapping on her shoulder. She looked around and saw her neighbour staring at her, a shy look on her face, one hand outstretched to nudge her and the other holding her tablet. She handed it over to Robyn who, confused, slowly took it. On the screen, she saw, a blank Word document had been opened and the girl had written a message on it.
“Thanks,” was all it said. Robyn smiled and, with a couple of taps, wrote a reply.
“You’re very welcome,” it said, Robyn being grateful for the autocorrect, which worked almost all of the time. “Sorry about looking at your book.” She handed it back — the girl read, smirked, and tapped another message.
“It’s ok. I was asking for it by reading in public. Can you sign?” Robyn wasn’t sure what that meant, at first, until the words “sign language” popped into her head. She looked at the girl and shook her head, sorrowfully. The girl kept typing. “That’s ok. Anyway yeah thank you!” At that, she turned off the tablet — only for Robyn to reach out and take her arm. She stared at it for a moment then, getting the message, handed back the tablet.
“If it’s conversation you’re after then I’m willing :)” she wrote. “Never gonna get to sleep anyways.” She passed it back.
“Me either. I read to try and keep my mind off the flying. It’s tough having family all over the world :(“
“I bet! Are you Canadian?” She read it and shook her head.
“I’m from Hong Kong. But my parents live in Canada now and I go to university in London. Its… complicated.”
“Sounds it! Im from England. Well at least youve got good books to keep you company ;P” The girl bit her bottom lip, embarrassed, but a smile still fought its way through as her fingers dawdled, pondering a reply.
“I swear I read other stuff!!!!”
“Bet you do”
“It’s true! But on planes I prefer that kind of thing instead. It distracts me.”
“Yeah you looked pretty absorbed I must say ;)” She pouted at Robyn, then went back to reading. “What’s your name?”
“Lucy. Sorry I forgot to even say!”
“Lol that’s alright. Nice to meet you Lucy. I’m Robyn.”
“Hi Robyn! Soooo are you going home or going away from home?”
“Going home. Think I broke up with my boyfriend in Montreal. Waste of a trip.”
“You think you broke up with him? What does that mean?”
“It’s just a feeling I’ve got. You know how it is.” Lucy looked at her and shook her head. “Not got a boyfriend?”
“If kaçak bahis I did I guess I wouldnt need to read porn in public :P” Robyn laughed.
“My recommendation? Dont get a boyfriend. Theyre terrible. Get a girlfriend.” Lucy raised her eyebrows.
“I would if I could. I bet you have a pretty laugh btw.” Robyn smiled.
“Can you not hear? Youve got hearing aids in”
“Battery ran out. Hopefully it wont cause me any problems :/.”
“I hope so too.” This was fun. Robyn wasn’t even noticing how fast the time was slipping by. Already, she was enjoying herself more than at any point in Montreal. “What do you mean you would if you could?”
“Well I don’t like girls.”
“Sure you do :P” It’s never too early in the day to tease a stranger, Robyn supposed. “Every woman is a lesbian at heart.”
“Are you a lesbian”
“Oh. Whats that?”
“It just means I like everyone regardless of gender.”
“Oh. Thats cool. My parents told me its ok if I’m gay which is nice but well youve seen what I read.”
“Yeah I saw some interesting stuff about dicks longing for vaginas or something.” Lucy slammed her eyes shut and, head against her seat, silently snickered.
“I’m so mortified honestly,” she wrote, once she’d finally recovered.
“Whats your favourite stuff to read?” Lucy stared at the question for quite a long time, tongue buried into her cheek, before she began tapping — and she tapped for quite a while, longer than at any previous point in this very odd conversation, to the point where Robyn worried she was writing a whole book as an example. Eventually, she handed the tablet back.
“I guess the thing I like most of all is unexpected situations. Like for instance in the book I’m reading there was a moment where a woman’s in an office and her boss calls her in to shout at her about missing all these sales targets or something. And then to punish her he strips her and fucks her in front of everyone and she just has to take it if she wants to keep her job. Ive always wondered what it’s like to have something like that happen to you but I guess its not a fetish you can really indulge in. Unless you find a whole office of willing people but that’s pretty unlikely.”
Robyn stared at this for quite a while, her smile only growing with each word, before tapping out her reply.
“I just meant generally.” Lucy’s eyes closed, slowly, at the sight of Robyn’s words.
“Oh.” Robyn giggled, trying to keep her volume down — people every side of them were asleep — as Lucy silently joined her.
“Tbh you should think about writing yourself. Nearly turned me on with that ;)” Lucy stared at her and Robyn, dramatically, shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ sort of way. She bit her lip.
“I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I’m not a bit turned on also.” This, Robyn suddenly realised, was taking a turn — and she wasn’t keen on resisting it. She tapped out her own relatively long reply — and, as the time it took to write increased, Lucy seemed to realise she was being given something intended for her ‘enjoyment,’ and seemed to brace herself for its arrival.
“I’ll tell you what — I’ve got a friend called Klare who went through something pretty similar. She worked at a bar and on her first day the manager had her stay behind after closing and told her he’d have to let her go cause she did such a bad job. She sucked him off to keep the job and then he fucked her in the arse over the bar. She told me she squealed so much he teased her about it for weeks.” After a moment’s consideration, Robyn handed the tablet back over. Absolutely none of this story was true — except for the part about having a friend called Klare, which Robyn was sure Klare would really appreciate — but she wanted to see how Lucy reacted. Her reaction was to scan the words and then, with a shiver, sit back and stare at the seat in front of her, before glancing at Robyn and narrowing her eyes.
“This isn’t fair at all,” she tapped back.
“What’s not fair? ;)”
“You’re making me all flustered. My books never do that. Youre making it way worse.”
“I’m not gonna apologise. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely. Maybe the reason you like it so much more than your books is cause youre getting it from a girl. Let me guess — all the authors you read are men.”
“…mostly. I think.”
“Well there you go.”
“I still don’t think I like girls though.” Robyn glanced over the seats. There were no cabin crew anywhere near them. Nobody could see them — not up this high, closer to space than the ground.
“Ok, well, how bout now?” Lucy read it and, when she looked back at Robyn, saw that she’d lifted up her shirt. All Lucy could do — all, really, anyone could have done — was stare, wide-eyed, as Robyn’s tits, safely hidden behind a grey sports bra. It had seemed like the smartest thing to wear for the plane. Robyn sat back, letting her shirt stay up, her hands at her sides, permitting Lucy’s illegal bahis gae to wash over her, before gesturing for the tablet. Obediently, finding it hard to snatch her eyes away, Lucy handed it over.
“You can touch them. If you want,” she wrote. She stared at her words for a moment, double-checking with her own mind that she really wanted this, before handing it over. Lucy swallowed, hard, at the first sight of what awaited her on the screen. Then, looking around the cabin, she let a hand drift to Robyn’s chest and, shyly, cupped her breast. A thumb stroked over the thick fabric and a spark of excitement shot through Robyn’s body. Lucy looked away, keeping her eyes on the cabin crew, as she roughly squeezed Robyn’s breast. Robyn tried not to murmur in pleasure — but it was hard. Her hand gripped Lucy’s thigh — then, because why not, it came to the hand groping her and, as her free hand pulled the bottom of her bra away from her skin, she guided Lucy’s hand underneath and onto her bare breast. Lucy’s curious hand shook as it went under, but didn’t resist, seeming glad to fondle her neighbour like this — Robyn felt her nipple harden at the clumsy grasp of Lucy’s hot, delicate hand, trying to imagine a time she’d taken a risk like this and coming up short. Well, maybe when she and Dean had gone into the Starbucks bathroom together, or when she and Warren ‘got familiar’ in the cinema when they should have been watching 22 Jump Street. But nothing quite like this. It felt incredible.
A person walked by, heading down the aisle between the seats, and Lucy withdrew her hand in a panic. The two of them watched the passenger obliviously walk further and further away between all the bobbing heads, before looking back at each other and giggling idiotically. Lucy frantically tapped out a fresh message.
“I can’t believe I just did that!!!!!”
“I’m proud of you 😛 Did you like it?” Lucy read it and nodded to her, fighting back a childish grin.
“Maybe I’m learning something about myself today. Im not even worried about the flying anymore!” Robyn sniggered then, with a wry look at Lucy, wrote her reply.
“Your turn ;)” Lucy’s eyes widened.
“But I’ve never done anything like that before!!!”
“Why should you get to play with my tits then not let me play with yours? :P” Lucy stared at the tablet, wide-eyed, for quite some time, before glancing over her shoulder, scanning the rest of the cabin. Robyn’s heart soared. After an inordinate amount of time looking around, Lucy went back to the tablet and passed it to Robyn.
“This is crazy!” Robyn just nodded — Lucy grinned, nerves all over her face, as her trembling hands took the hem of her stripy shirt and lifted up over her soft, pale tummy, before stopping. She stared down at herself for a moment. This, Robyn saw, was a girl who’d always fantasised about a moment like this — but had never found it. Who, lying in bed at night, put herself to sleep with images of genderless hands on her body and piercing eyes surveying her most intimate details. She saw all of that in Lucy’s face.
Taking a deep breath, Lucy lifted her top the rest of the way, over her perky little breasts, held in a plain white bra. Lucy held her shirt there, watching Robyn study her, waiting for approval, before Robyn put out a hand and stroked the nearer cup of her bra. Though no skin contact was made, Lucy shivered regardless, and made a sharp intake of breath when Robyn slipped her hand beneath the cup. It was soft beneath, like dough, and Lucy’s nipple was hard between her fingers. Robyn teased it, inviting shivers and a hint of a whimper from Lucy, then leaned in and kissed her head. Lucy’s black hair smelled of coconut. She leaned in, head on Robyn’s bony shoulder, breathing hard, letting herself be explored — Robyn pinched her nipple and Lucy gasped, then clasped her hands over her mouth, grinning widely, before Robyn leaned in and, with ease, lifted Lucy’s bra up and off her tits altogether. They were pale, pretty little things, her nipples pink and vulnerable. Lucy looked away, keeping watch, trying to maintain a natural expression, as Robyn put her mouth to the nearest one and suckled. One of Lucy’s hands, balled into a fist, went to her mouth, and she bit down on it, trying not to let a sound out, her thighs pressing tightly together in her seat, glancing to the sleeping old man next to her. A burst of pleasure came from her mouth, just audible, and her fist turned to an open palm, trying to smother herself silent. Though she wanted, so desperately, to keep going, to sate her taste for flesh, Robyn took mercy and withdrew.
Lucy, hands still trembling, fumbled to pull her bra back down and tug her shirt back over her torso. Blinking a few times, trying to wake herself and failing, she looked at Robyn, and Robyn looked at her, and they smiled. Lucy, of course, gave the more nervous smile of the two. She typed out a fresh message.
“What are you doing to me???” she sent, along with a line of laughing emojis. Robyn giggled.
“Do you feel a bit clearer about what you like and don’t like?” Lucy read it, looked at Robyn, and nodded vigorously, with eyes so dramatically wide that they sent Robyn into another spasm of giggles.
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