Best On Board 02: First Class

Arching her back and giving voice to gasping cries of pleasure so that Celeste would know that she was close to coming, Vicky redoubled her efforts on the older woman's pussy, hoping that they would climax together. Hardening the web of muscles in her tongue, she probed into Celeste's tight opening, maintaining contact on her clitoris with her lower lip as she strained to go deeper.

Feeling Celeste's thigh muscles bunch against her ears, Vicky realised that the redhead was at least as close to coming as herself. She almost had time to worry about being left behind when she felt Celeste close her lips over her sensitive entrance and she was forced open by the pointed tip of her probing tongue. The casual, ambling approach of her own orgasm became a full, frenzied gallop as Celeste drove her tongue into Vicky's sex; the thick base stretching her wide open while the tip probed and danced, pressing and exploring – seemingly in every direction at once – in a way that a cock never could.

Vicky shrieked with passion and genuine surprise as the orgasm crashed through her; at one moment just a contraction in her core and then a light-speed explosion, igniting every nerve ending in her body in a blinding flash of pure ecstasy. Like fireworks, as the last embers of one sky-burst began to fade, another one – with different shape, colour and intensity – would tear through her again, contracting her muscles and arching her pussy into Celeste's merciless tongue.

Unconsciously copying her actions, Vicky dove deeply into Celeste's sweet centre, marvelling at the exquisite pressure of the redhead's tight canal pressing back against her insistent tongue as for the first time she truly began to appreciate the unique ecstasy that a guy experiences driving his cock into the heavenly, silken embrace of a tight pussy. As her own orgasm began to abate, Vicky felt Celeste's pussy convulse and her hips rock downwards, encouraging Vicky to thrust deeper even though her tongue was being squeezed out by Celeste's powerful contractions. When finally both women were completely spent, Celeste kissed the last of Vicky's juices from her freshly shaven lips before turning around to embrace the younger woman, their breasts pressed together as they whispered breathless gratitude into each other's ears.

After a minute of quiet kissing, Vicky realised that Bob and Spike were still waiting outside and would be getting impatient. Disentangling from each other, both women got up and began putting themselves to rights; buttoning their dresses and touching up makeup as they stole knowing glances at each other in the mirror. Feeling a bit woozy, Vicky wound her hair into a bun and pinned on her pillbox hat. Pulling at her ludicrously short hem, she looked at her beautiful companion standing beside her in the mirror. Was she really afraid of Bob falling for her? Maybe Bob should be the one to be worried. She wondered what would happen next. Whatever it was, they were ready.

~~~

"Passengers and crew travelling to Coffs Harbour on flight BJ69, your flight is now ready for boarding. Passengers with special needs and those travelling First Class, please identify yourselves to crew members for priority boarding."

Celeste's voice over the PA system was unmistakable. Spike looked at Bob sitting opposite him in the anteroom. "BJ69," Spike laughed, shaking his head slowly. "See? I told you this would be worth the wait."

Bob had been increasingly concerned that something was wrong as the ten minute wait stretched to twenty minutes and then almost half an hour. Spike reasoned to the contrary: a longer wait was good news because the girls were making more thorough preparations. As they waited, Bob had finally come clean and told the whole story about his flight from Sydney; how Celeste had conspired to spill water on him, feel him up and then herd him into the tiny airplane bathroom with Vicky where he had lost his virginity. Well Bob, you didn't exactly reveal that bit, but hey, it's not like you're under oath, right?

This revelation gave Spike even more encouragement. Celeste was clearly a master game-player, he reasoned; and they were in for a fun night, providing they played along and gave her every opportunity to execute her plan.

As they stood up, a door on the other side of the room opened, seemingly on its own. Bob and Spike went to investigate, but there was nobody there, just a corridor decorated to look like and air-bridge. They followed the corridor and turned the corner revealing another short passage way and what looked very convincingly like a bridge into an aircraft cabin.

Both girls were inside the cabin, smiling and standing with hands clasped in front of their tiny, navy blue mini-dresses. Bob thought Vicky looked nervous; he could see that her cheeks were flushed and her breasts – tightly bound beneath the gold buttons of her uniform – heaved with her rapid breathing. He stopped momentarily to admire the long curves of her legs, propped up on high heels to lend shape to her tight calves and small, round bottom; he could see so much of her long, slim thighs that he could scarcely believe that her panties were not visible beneath the mini-dress.

"Keep walking, mate," Spike breathed from behind him. "You're part of the show now, so play your part."

Bob walked onto the bridge and then stepped into the cabin.

"Welcome aboard, sir," Vicky stepped forward, embraced him and kissed him deeply on the lips. Bob responded, parting his own lips and meeting her tongue with his, detecting a foreign but not unpleasant taste on her lips that was not the champagne they had been drinking. Lip gloss? He didn't think so.

"May I take your coat, sir," Vicky husked, breaking the kiss but continuing to stand with her breasts pressed into his chest and one hand on his bottom.

"Uhhh? I'm not wearing a ...," Bob began before he felt a poke in his back from Spike. "Oh, I mean, of course. Thank you, miss."

Vicky unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it over his shoulders, taking the opportunity to run her hands over his bare chest and back as she did so. With the shirt off, she kissed him softly on the lips again and said "Come with me, please. You're in 1B; I'll show you to your seat."

They stepped past Celeste with a smile and the front row of First Class seats was right there. As Bob sat down, Vicky stepped slightly in front of him and reached up to open the overhead locker, where she stowed Bob's shirt. She felt a little tingle of excitement when she heard Bob whisper "Oh my goodness" as he spied her freshly shaved pussy peeking out from beneath the mini-dress. Hurriedly she pulled down the hem, blushing as she realised that Spike could see her bare bottom from behind.

Spike stepped forward, smiling and clearly ready for the same treatment that Bob had received.

"Welcome aboard, Sir," Celeste said primly. "Are you carrying any metallic items, knives, batteries, explosives, or weapons of any kind?"

"No ma'am," said Spike. He smiled even wider realising the script had changed for him.

"Hold up your arms, please Sir," Celeste said; she wasn't smiling any more.

Spike did as he was told and Celeste stepped closer, close enough to kiss him if she wanted, and began to slowly frisk his upper body. She moulded her palms around his powerful pectoral muscles, slid them up and over his sloping trapezoids, over his biceps and then underneath his arms, testing his latissimus dorsi with her fingertips and finding them bulging from constant use paddling through the surf. Finally she moved half a step closer so that her full breasts touched his chest as she reached around to feel his back.

Stepping back, she said "Sir, please remove your shirt."

Spike was still smiling. "Do you always profile skegs as potential terrorists?"

"Skegs?" Celeste smiled.

"Yeah, you know: surfers," he said. "We're really not that dangerous."

"Your shirt, Sir," she said sternly. "Please don't make me ask a third time." Vicky sat in Bob's lap, curled on her side with her head on his shoulder while they both watched Celeste with amusement.

Spike unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, allowing it to fall to the floor. He held his hands out to sides as if to say 'What next?'

"Stand with your legs apart and your arms out, please Sir."

As Spike did so, Celeste took her phone and began to pass it over is arms and chest, pretending it was a scanner of some kind. She knelt down and repeated the process up and down his legs, touching the standby button as she passed over his groin, making the phone light up and buzz with a small audible vibration.

"Are you carrying any keys or change in your pants, Sir?"

"No, ma'am," Spike replied, trying to keep a straight face.

"Remove your pants please, Sir."

Spike slipped off his shoes and pants, and then resumed his spreadeagled position wearing only his boxers.

Celeste passed the phone over his groin and pressed standby again to light it up.

"Sir, are you carrying a weapon in there?"

"Yes ma'am. I am," smiled Spike. "As an Air Marshall I am licensed to do so."

"Really?" Celeste trilled, clearly amused, her smile showing through momentarily as she tried to resume her part. "An Air Marshall?"

"That's right ma'am. However I left my license in my other pants."

"Well is your weapon loaded, Air Marshall?" she asked, smirking a little bit but unable to help herself.

"I don't recall, ma'am," Spike replied, his arms still held out to the sides. "But you're welcome to check."

Smiling as if this was the invitation she had been angling for, Celeste dropped the stern attitude again and stepped close to Spike, biting her lower lip in anticipation. Holding her right palm to his muscular stomach, she slipped her fingertips beneath the waistband of his shorts and stopped momentarily, as if giving him an opportunity to back out.

Spike merely held her gaze and smiled back. Celeste didn't hesitate any longer; Bob watched as she delved lower, a big grin started to spread across her face and then stopped. "Oh, Jesus Christ," she breathed, her grin melted into a wide "O" of shock and her eyes bulged as she stared at Spike.

Celeste took a moment during which Bob could hear her breathing heavily and then "I'm sorry to have detained you, Sir," she whispered, removing her hand from Spike's shorts. "You may ...," she stopped to clear her throat. "We're glad to have you on board. You may keep that on the aircraft," she continued and then, catching his eye meaningfully and placing a hand on his chest. "But please be very careful if you need to use that thing," she swallowed hard. "I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."

"Careful is my middle name," Spike smiled.

Collecting his clothes, Celeste led Spike to seat 1A across the aisle from Bob and repeated Vicky's act of stowing his clothes overhead. Never to be outdone, she stood very close to Spike and gave her bottom a wiggle to make the mini-dress ride a bit higher.

Barely half a metre from Bob's face, Celeste's legs were slightly apart and he could see moist pink folds of her opening between the soft curves of her smooth labia. He felt a moment of confused lust: part of him – the testosterone-fuelled animal part – wanted to tear off his pants and plunge his cock into the silky depths of Celeste's pussy; another part - and this part was not just sexual, but transcended sex - was drawn instead to Vicky in a way that he didn't completely understand.

Vicky caught him looking and Bob thought he saw a flash of jealousy in her expression, however a moment later she smiled and winked at him before walking off to the front of the cabin with Celeste following, swaying her hips provocatively and tugging at her hem back down to cover her bottom.

Bob and Spike exchanged excited glances. Spike – wearing just his boxer shorts - pointed at Bob's pants and made a "lose them" gesture with his thumb. Bob judged this to be sound advice and quickly removed them so that he was now dressed only in a pair of lycra trunks.

Bob heard some muted giggles from the front and moment later Vicky came out and passed them each a glass of champagne; presumably from the bottle Celeste sneaked out of the pub. "Compliments of the house, gentlemen," she said, and then turned on her heel and walked back behind the bulkhead at the front.

"Good evening passengers," Celeste's voice came over the PA system again. "Pre-flight service has now commenced in the First Class cabin while the rest of the passengers are boarding. We hope you enjoy our complimentary service. If you require any further champagne, hors-d'oeurves, or blow jobs prior to take-off, please press your call button."

Spike and Bob looked at each other in a perfect mirror image of shocked surprise.

"Did she say...?" Bob began.

Spike just hit his call button.

Celeste appeared with a huge smile and the almost empty bottle. "More champagne, Sir?"

~~~

Bob hadn't pressed his call button, but Vicky came out behind Celeste anyway, figuring that it would be way too awkward to leave Bob alone while Celeste and Spike fucked beside him. Vicky was suffering mixed emotions; she wanted Bob all to herself, but she also felt guilty for the sex she had shared with Celeste. Which is crazy! She reasoned to herself. It's not like Bob and I are exclusive. Heck, we only met today. And I wasn't even with another guy!

She pulled the privacy curtain around Bob's First Class suite, reclined his seat and then lay down with him, tucked sideways into the gap between his body and the arm-rest with her head resting on his shoulder. Bob had removed his glasses again and she was glad that he wouldn't be able to see the mixed emotions on her face; she just held him and let her mind go, free-associating about their wonderful sex that afternoon where she experienced her first orgasm, their dancing at the pub, and then back to Celeste; the fresh taste of her sex, the tight embrace of her pussy around her tongue, and the explosive orgasm that followed.

Withdrawing deep into her own thoughts, Vicky didn't even notice her own eyes drooping closed. With wet sounds of lust being sated filtering though the screen from across the aisle, her last conscious thought before she fell asleep was that there existed a perfect solution to her problem; one where she wouldn't have to choose between Bob and Celeste, and one where she wouldn't need to feel as though she was cheating on Bob. Mum always said it was good manners to share. Vicky smiled in her sleep.

~~~

Vicky awoke to relative silence in the cabin; the only sound she could hear was Bob's deep breathing beside her – obviously he had dropped off to sleep as well. Her internal clock told her that she hadn't been asleep for long; she could still feel the buzz of alcohol in her system and her pussy – despite coming twice already today – ached once again with the need for sexual release. As she began to move, she realised that her hand was resting on Bob's groin; his cock hard and hot and straining beneath his lycra shorts. Panty-less herself, she briefly flirted with the idea of simply impaling herself on his shaft – a delicious throb coursed through her pussy as if in complete agreement with this idea – but the side of her face felt hot from sleeping on his shoulder and she didn't want Bob to wake and see the likely train-wreck of her make-up. A quick touch-up was in order and she thought that if she was careful standing up then she could get out and back without waking him.

She wondered why she couldn't hear Celeste and Spike and figured that they must have finished fucking. She felt a little pang of jealousy but ignored it and concentrated on getting herself tidied up and back into Bob's arms.

Levering herself carefully out of the reclined First Class seat, she pulled down her uniform from where it had bunched up at her hips and took a moment to touch herself, feeling the wonderful smoothness of her freshly shaved labia, now hot and engorged again from the sweet and sexy dreams that followed her last waking thoughts. She pulled back the privacy curtain and was surprised to see Celeste in the seat opposite, alone and half reclined, still in her uniform and sipping a glass of champagne. Far from being hot and sweaty from her sexual exertions, she was still inexplicably immaculate; her makeup perfect and red hair still tucked neatly up beneath the pillbox hat.

Vicky put a finger to her lips so that Celeste wouldn't wake Bob and beckoned her down to the front of the cabin to talk quietly.

"Where's Spike?" she whispered.

"Gone," she said. "We peeked in at you guys when we were done and you were both asleep, so I told him to grab a cab and I would clean up and get you guys back to our hotel room."

"Oh," Vicky said uncertainly. This was kind of good news; she wasn't adventurous enough for an orgy, and it seemed like such good fortune that she was now alone with Bob and Celeste ... but the thought of Celeste's pussy – stretched and spent from her sex with Spike – wasn't very appealing. "Soooo," Vicky thought out loud. "Do we ...? What do you ...?" She didn't know how to do this. "How was it with Spike?" Holy crap! Where did that come from?

"It wasn't," Celeste replied candidly. "I chickened out." She held up her hand with the thumb and forefinger circled like an OK sign but not touching, suggesting something about the size of a police baton.

Vicky realised Celeste was showing her the size of Spike's cock. "No way!" she gasped, eyes boggling at the thought of a shaft that big entering her pussy.

"Yes way!" Celested affirmed, giggling at Vicky's reaction. "It was OK at the tip, but it was at least that thick at the base. I'll suck it, but I won't sit on it."

"Oh my God!" Vicky shivered, wondering what it would feel like. "You'd walk like a cowboy for a week."

"I know," Celeste laughed. "Just give me the hot dog; I don't want the whole bun!"

"Mmmm!" Vicky agreed, although she wasn't completely sure that she did agree. "Like Bo-..." she clapped her hand over her mouth, surprising herself with her indiscretion. Maybe it was a Freudian slip; it had just occurred to her that neither of them had had sex yet, and the thought of Celeste's pussy, still fresh and tight and sweet, was sending little tingles of excitement through her groin. She wished she had a cock of her own, imagining how it would feel to nuzzle it up to Celeste's moist, pink entrance and then push slowly inside, gliding effortlessly into that silken heaven as it closed down tightly over the length of her shaft, drawing her deeper until their groins pressed together and the tip of her imaginary cock touched the innermost core of Celeste's womanhood.

"Like who, Vick?" Celeste smiled disingenuously.

"Ummmm," Vicky stalled.

"You forget I've felt his cock," she laughed, referring to the incident she engineered on the flight that afternoon where she spilled water on Bob's crotch and then mopped it up, stroking his erection with her fingertips before giving him over to Vicky to fuck in the airplane bathroom.

Suddenly, Vicky realised that what she wanted most of all – assuming she couldn't grow her own cock – was to fuck Celeste with Bob's cock.

"Soooo," she began. "If you and Spike didn't ..."

"We didn't," Celeste agreed with a grin. "As evidenced by the fact that I'm not turned inside out."

Vicky giggled. "Then that means you're ..."

"Horny?" Celeste finished helpfully. "Like a rhinoceros!"

"So you want ...," Vicky was not having much success finishing sentences.

"A three-way?" Celeste clasped her hands between her breasts in mock surprise and happiness. "I thought you'd never ask!"

"I don't think I did," Vicky sighed, exasperated but grateful to be spared the awkwardness of asking.