Best On Board 02: First Class

"Too much?" she asked.

"No. I mean yes; I don't know," Vicky said distractedly. "Don't you think they're a bit ..."

"A bit what? Gorgeous?"

"A bit ... well ... short?"

Celeste looked down at the hem-lines which just barely covered their bottoms.

"Well they are mini-dresses," Celeste rationalised. "And the sixties were pretty racy."

"Are you sure they're real?"

"Of course they're real," Celeste curled an admonishing eyebrow. "You're wearing one, aren't you?"

"No. Are they real airline uniforms?" Vicky explained. "They're not ... like ... porno fantasy costumes or something."

Celeste snorted laughter. "Oh, they're real, all right. I even met the lady who donated them. Seventy years if she was a day."

"Eeeeew! I didn't need that visual."

"Well she wasn't wearing one of them!" Celeste retorted, laughing. "In fact she looked very elegant and modest for a senior citizen. But, man, she must have rocked it in her day." Celeste adjusted the lapels until her nipples were hidden again.

Vicky still looked uncertain.

"Maybe they're supposed to be jackets," she suggested, brightening. "Are there any matching skirts back there?" She turned and eyed the racks of airline livery.

"Oh, stop being such a princess," Celeste teased. "They're plenty long enough. Now put your hat on; the boys will be getting restless."

They had left Spike and Bob out in the anteroom and Vicky thought they were probably discussing in hushed tones what might be about to happen. She herself wasn't sure what Celeste had planned until she saw the uniform; but now it was pretty clear. At least half of her concern and reluctance was that she didn't want to lose Bob to the beautiful redhead.

Vicky compared the two reflections in the mirror and found herself envious of Celeste's fuller breasts, flashing green eyes and cascades of long, glossy, auburn hair. At that moment she had her arms up and was winding those flaming locks into a tidy bun so that she could pin on the little stewardess's pillbox hat, when a flash of pink lower down caught Vicky's eye.

"Your knickers are showing below your 'plenty-long-enough-mini-dress'," she pointed to the reflection with a giggle. The gauzy gusset of Celeste's panties was peeking out from beneath the hem. She finished pinning on her hat and lowered her arms, but the mini-dress stayed up where it was.

"Oh my goodness," said Celeste with an amused grin, pulling down at the hem. "How did they ever load the overhead lockers in these things? They must have gotten groped six ways from Sunday."

"Maybe they wore tights?" Vicky guessed. "Or maybe they were just shorter than us?"

She experimentally lifted her arms to tie her own hair and was not surprised to see her own simple bikini briefs appear beneath the mini-dress. Her serious eyes met Celeste's in the mirror and to make a joke of it she did a sexy pout and snaked her body back and forth, running her hands through her hair and twisting her hips. The mini-dress rode higher still, exposing not just the gusset but the whole leg, all the way round to her hip.

Celeste copied, lifting her arms, provocatively grinding her hips and blowing kisses at the mirror until she too was flashing three of four inches of underwear and both of them were giggling uproariously. Vicky noticed with an unfamiliar thrill the way the sheer nylon of Celeste's panties clung to the smooth curves of her outer labia. She could see a tiny thatch of auburn pubic hair through the translucent fabric and realised jealously that Celeste was almost completely shaved.

Unbidden, an image popped into her head: Celeste's pussy open and wet, poised over Vicky's face as she ran her tongue over those soft, flawless lips; feeling their smoothness as she inhaled the sweet musk of Celeste's sex; and then kissing her there, tasting that sweetness on her tongue, straining and probing deeper into the heat of her womanhood to find the wellspring of that perfumed nectar.

Licking her lips guiltily, Vicky realised she had no idea how long she had been staring at Celeste's pussy. She looked up and saw the beautiful redhead watching her with an amused look.

"You're right," she said. "These things are too short. We can't be flashing our panties at the guys." With that, she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and pulled them down her long legs and off over the heels she had picked out for the costume.

"Well, that's better," she said matter-o-factly, both girls looking at the milky smooth lips of her pussy in the mirror as her dress stayed bunched up at her hips. "You can't see them at all now."

Vicky's heart was pounding. The idea of kissing a girl had never disgusted her, but even though she had thought about it several times, she hadn't really considered herself interested in the idea. Until now, that is.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, looking nervously into Celeste's eyes in the mirror.

"Does what hurt?"

"You know ... shaving ... down there."

"Only if you get it wrong," laughed Celeste. "Actually, I wax; but the principle's the same. It's awkward and easy to make a mess of it. Much better to get someone else to do it."

"Oh, I could never do that," Vicky's eyes flashed nervously as she shook her head.

"Nonsense," said Celeste. "It's nothing compared to what you let your gyno do. And it's so worth it."

"Worth it?"

"Hell yes. Guys can't go down on you quick enough!" she laughed; her whole face lighting up. "You let them get a hand in your panties and then watch the look on their face when their fingers slide over smooth, bare skin. They practically start drooling to get their tongue into you. And it's not just lick, suck, let's fuck: they stay down until you're coming like an early Christmas."

Vicky blushed at the mental picture inspired by her friend's profanity, still staring at her pussy in the reflection

Celeste turned to face her. "Close your eyes," she said quietly.

"What are you going to do?" Vicky asked nervously.

"I'm almost naked and I'm feeling modest. So just shut them, OK?"

Vicky closed her eyes and then felt Celeste gently take her left hand and cup it to her pussy. She gasped in surprise, but didn't pull back. She could feel the little crop of hair against the heel of her palm but everywhere else – all the way down to the tip of her middle finger somewhere near Celeste's anus – was completely, utterly smooth.

With her own hand cupped over Vicky's, Celeste slowly stroked up and down, Vicky's fingers slid with frictionless ease over the soft, hairless flesh until she felt her friend's juices welling onto to her fingertips.

"Now imagine you're a guy," Celeste said softly. "Imagine how that feels against your lips and your tongue."

"Mmmmm. I can imagine it," said Vicky, her voice catching as she struggled to control her breathing. And then, summoning up every shred of courage she could muster: "But I'm not imagining I'm a guy."

In lieu of a response, Celeste continued stroking herself with Vicky's hand, but applied the tiniest pressure over her middle finger. Vicky needed no further encouragement; she doubled the minute pressure and Celeste's swollen lips opened like a flower, instantly coating the length of Vicky's finger in her lubricating juices as it ploughed between the soft, hot folds of her womanhood.

"Wait," Celeste breathed as Vicky tried to go deeper. "Let me shave you first; the boys aren't going anywhere."

Vicky opened her eyes. Too nervous to speak, she bit her lower lip and nodded.

"Great, give me a moment." Celeste was all business again and transformed into a whirlwind of movement and grace that Vicky had already witnessed a couple of times. From her bag she pulled a foil sachet of sex lube, a miniature manicure kit containing a tiny pair of nail scissors, and - most improbably - a disposable razor.

"Girl Scout," Celeste explained as Vicky looked with surprise at the little collection. Taking control, she pushed Vicky back onto the settee; pulled her bottom forward right to edge and stripped off her cotton panties in one swift movement.

With Celeste kneeling in front of her, Vicky had a moment of second thought, holding her knees tightly together as Celeste placed her hands between the her thighs, smiling and nodding encouragement as she applied pressure to draw them apart. Her last reserves of resistance melting away, Vicky relaxed her thighs and allowed them to be opened wide, exposing the throbbing, swollen lips of her sex.

"Oh, this is not so bad," said Celeste gently as she combed the soft brown curls around Vicky's mons with her fingers and stroked over the wisps covering her outer labia. Quickly and deftly, she snipped away the longer hair with the nail scissors and then smeared lube over the remaining stubble, massaging it thoroughly to coat the base of each hair and making Vicky gasp with pleasure.

Working with long smooth strokes of the razor, she shaped a small triangle of hair about half an inch above the top of Vicky's slit and then shaved the rest clean. As she shaved down Vicky's swollen labia, she worked a finger into her soaking pussy so that she could pull back the lips to reach the hairs on the most sensitive inner edges.

As she wiped away the residue of lube and shaven hair, Celeste unconsciously put her finger in her mouth to lick off the juices that had been running freely from Vicky and coating her hand.

"Oh my God," she breathed, her green eyes widening in shock and pleasure as she licked down to the knuckle and around the webbing. "You taste like ... something ... pomegranates! It's pomegranates!"

"What!?"

"Oh, Christ, that is divine," she plunged her middle finger back through Vicky's slit, eliciting a surprised shriek from the younger woman, and then did the same with her own pussy on the index finger.

"Here!" she said, offering them both to Vicky lips. "Taste!"

"No!" Vicky cried in shock, but with more than a little curiosity.

"What?" Celeste looked surprised herself. "Have you seriously never tasted yourself?"

"No!" Vicky affirmed, eyes flashing with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. "Never!" She held up a hand to reject the proffered taste-test.

"Well stop being a baby," she admonished. "Go on! You'll thank me."

Curiosity overwhelmed embarrassment and Vicky held the redhead's hand up to her mouth. She could smell the musky aroma of sex on her fingers and felt a delicious shiver of anticipation coursing through her body. Closing her lips around the middle finger, she tasted herself first; heady and rich and nothing at all like anchovies – which she hated – and which popular opinion told her was how it was supposed to taste. She supposed that she could taste pomegranates ... maybe. Sucking the last of her own scent from Celeste's middle finger, she withdrew it with a small pop and held the index finder before her mouth.

"C'mon, it's not as nice as you," encouraged Celeste. "But it won't poison you."

Her heartbeat pounding in her ears like jungle drums, Vicky could feel more of her own juices welling and coating her hairless pussy lips. With a shuddering breath, she opened up to taste her new friend's sex, and closed her eyes as she placed just the fingertip on her tongue, prolonging the anticipation. With that single taste she was sold. She folded her lips and tongue around Celeste's finger with a low, animal moan; never in her life had she tasted anything so raw, primal and sexy.

Gently sucking and swirling her tongue over her friend's finger, she tasted salt and honeysuckle and extra virgin olive oil and something else that she couldn't identify, but which sang in her mouth and made her nipples tingle and her clitoris buzz. If she had to give it a name, she would say it was the taste of sex; not the taste of having sex, or the sweet afterglow of sex; but of sex yet to come; a potential future as yet unfulfilled. It was fresh and ripe and potent and strangely virginal.

"Oh God," Vicky breathed, "That's what I want."

"Are you sure you want to keep the boys waiting?" Celeste asked, taking Vicky's hand and helping her stand up.

"What boys?" Vicky breathed. A wave of passion that had been building inside her finally crested and broke, washing away the last of her reticence. Still holding Celeste's hand, she drew the redhead closer, lifting her chin and parting her lips to signal her intent. Celeste tilted her head to the side and met Vicky's kiss; her lips small and moist and supple and unlike any man Vicky had kissed.

Vicky's nerve endings celebrated the new sensation of kissing a woman. She closed her eyes and allowed her hands to chart the foreign territory of Celeste's body; her muscle-memory – so used to a man's physique – told her that this was all wrong, but her hard nipples and soaking pussy lips sang with the news that it was not just right; it was wonderfully, breathtakingly right. She moulded her fingers over Celeste's neat, round bottom and traced into her tiny, tight waist. She could feel the redhead's full, firm breasts pressing against her own through their uniforms, but it wasn't enough – she needed the feeling of skin on skin.

Panting and kissing with mounting vigour, Vicky whispered "Please" as she began unbuttoning Celeste's uniform and "Yes, God, yes" when the older woman responded in turn. Unbuttoned from neck to hem, the mini-dresses hung like coats; Vicky pulled the lapels open to gorge herself on Celeste's naked perfection.

Tentatively at first, she touched her body to Celeste's, relishing the hard points of her nipples as every movement traced tiny arcs and swirls of erotic sensation on the sensitive undersides of her own breasts. As their bellies touched, Vicky stopped breathing and focussed all of her attention on her pussy; shaved and open and soaking wet and now just a few millimetres from the moist, pink folds of Celeste's. Vicky felt the slightest brush of friction as their tiny patches of pubic hair met – so close now – it may have been imagination, but she thought she could feel the heat radiating from Celeste's molten core.

And then their lips touched. Instinctively, both women arched upwards to make contact at the steaming centre of their sex. Whimpering with passion and desperation, Vicky moved from the hips, brushing her engorged inner folds against Celeste's, feeling the wetness transfer both ways and coat their smooth outer lips with a mixture of their naturally perfumed lubrication.

Unable to resist any longer, Vicky grasped Celeste's naked bottom in both hands and ground their pussies together, opening herself up and scissoring Celeste's smooth lips into her own. Wonderful barrages of ecstasy exploded through her womanhood as Celeste touched down on her clitoris, and she rejoiced at the redhead's soft cries in her ear that told her she was doing the same.

"Let me do you," she breathed in Celeste's ear, reluctantly breaking the contact on her pussy, which was screaming for the sweet release of orgasm. She began kissing down Celeste's body; her neck, the points of her clavicle and the tops of her breasts before Celeste stopped her, drawing her back.

"No," she whispered. "We'll do it together." She turned Vicky around and held her from behind, one arm crossed over her flat stomach to gently cup one of her small breasts; the other reaching down to close over her sex, the tip of her middle finger nestled in the brunette's entrance as she kissed the hollow of her neck.

Celeste lowered them both to the floor and supported Vicky from behind as she lay on her back, folding back the lapels of her open dress like a blanket, her tanned and naked form laid out like a golden buffet for Celeste to feast upon.

Vicky looked up into the face of her friend; the beautiful female face that a few breathless moments from now would be the first woman to taste her, to take her, to enter her and – she knew this like she knew her own name – to drive her to an orgasm so intense she would never feel its equal from penetrative sex. Instinctively she drew her knees up to angle her pussy towards Celeste and with the flexibility of a gymnast parted them so that they were almost flat on the floor.

Now pointing straight up, the soft open cup of her entrance began to pool with her juices. Glistening with moisture at first, it was soon slick with her juices and by the time Celeste had kissed from Vicky's breathless lips to her small breasts – pausing to tease and suck the nipples and to offer her own full breasts to Vicky's eager lips – it was brimming with the sweet nectar of Vicky's sex.

As Celeste moved down over Vicky's young body, the brunette craned her neck up to kiss and trace the lines of her stomach and feel the muscles flutter nervously beneath her soft lips. She watched entranced as Celeste's glistening opening passed over her eyes, her intoxicating scent filling Vicky's senses; and then stopped, open and ready an inch above the younger woman's breathless lips.

There was a frozen moment of time when nothing happened, as if both women were waiting for a signal to begin, and then just as Vicky opened her mouth to kiss Celeste's pussy, she felt the tip of the other woman's tongue tracing over her smooth lips. Vicky followed her movements, working down one side, tasting her own smeared scent alongside the more potent, intoxicating perfume almost dripping from Celeste's molten core.

The exquisite, smooth softness of Celeste's pussy was unlike anything Vicky had imagined; it was unlike anything she could have imagined. Her limited experience with oral sex extended to a few pleasant but nervous episodes of cock sucking, where she was more concerned about the boy taking liberties and choking her than she was with delivering finely controlled pleasure to her partner. With a man, she wasn't exactly sure what she should be doing; apart from the one universal 'no teeth' rule, they seemed to like pretty much everything.

But this? This! This was indescribably different! Not that she was going lesbo any time soon, but pleasuring a pussy with a cock was like peeling an apple with a chainsaw. And better, she knew exactly what to do because Celeste was copying her; everything she did to Celeste, she felt the result in her own pussy in real time. Licking, sucking, kissing, probing, hard and soft, slow and fast; it was like the most perfect shopping experience where you could try on ten different pairs of shoes at once to see which one looks best ... and better ... which one feels best.

Gaining confidence, Vicky became more adventurous and moved from the wonderful softness of Celeste's smooth pussy lips into her glistening, hot slit, where that intoxicating sexual perfume was strongest. Starting with gentle probes above and to the side of Celeste's clitoris, she teased with soft, gentle strokes; working back and forth in slow arcs and establishing a rhythm with which Celeste quickly synchronised. In a surreal moment of transcendence, so perfectly timed was Celeste's feedback that Vicky felt as though she was licking her own pussy. Far from revolting her (which would have been her natural reaction), it felt overwhelmingly erotic and sent her heart racing even faster.

As much as she normally loathed direct stimulation of her clitoris, in her breathless passion she grazed her tongue lightly over Celeste's hard love-button, eliciting a muffled shriek of excitement from the redhead quickly followed by a reciprocal stroke over her own clitoris.

She expected a profound sensation and boy did she get it. But far from the normal sobering shock – like being pinched or doused with cold water – Celeste's tongue revved her like a race-tuned engine on the starting grid; raucous, animal and powerful but smooth and emotive at the same time. With sparks of pleasure firing and lighting up her core, Vicky's excitement stepped up to a new level and she felt the first stirrings of an orgasm tingling in her thighs and the base of her stomach.