Flying High

On a red eye flight I sit in my assigned seat somewhere close to the engines. The passenger load is light, and shortly after take off the lights dim. I am alone in my particular row and since I have no one to start a conversation with I lay my seat back somewhat and doze off. It's not long before I wake up again, only to find myself eye to eye with a man who has sat down next to me. He murmurs a quiet hello and hesitantly I respond.

Taking my hand he offers, "I saw you sleeping and you seemed to be having a good dream...I couldn't help but watch. Do you mind?" Without waiting for a reply he places my hand on his thigh, near the crotch in his jeans. "May I kiss you?" he whispers. Sighing softly I lean toward him, offering my mouth. My hand creeps to the growing bulge behind his zipper, and groaning he kisses me harder, plunging his tongue inside my mouth much as I would like to feel his dick plunge into my wetness. Soon we are rubbing each other, trying desperately to crowd each other in our seats. He lowers them further until we are stretched as far as possible. His hand squeezes my breasts through my blouse; my nipple is a hard pebble poking his palm. His hot breath fans my neck and he moans into my ear, "do you feel how badly I want you?”

In response I wrestle with his zipper and button. Reaching inside I grab his dick fully into my hand. His flesh is hot, the skin stretched over a burgeoning cock head. Taking him by surprise, I kneel before him and begin sucking him. I love his salty taste, and I devour him. Choking with shock, he grabs my head in his hands, not to stop me, but to urge me on. I can feel him trying to control his breathing, his outbursts of pleasure. At this point I am reminded of just where we are, but I am too far gone to care. While still holding him in one hand and licking his shaft, I surreptitiously pull my mini-skirt to my waist. I run my fingers along the front of my panties; I am wet, soaking straight through my thong. Pulling aside the damp material I begin fingering myself. My lips are plump, my clit swollen. Six, seven strokes, and I cum, moaning around his dick. I have to have him!

Carefully, and checking to make sure we are not being observed, I make my way back up and I carefully straddle him. Hunching down as much as possible I once again pull my thong to the side and slide down onto him. His guttural "oh fuck" is like a cannon shot; I pause again in case someone has heard and comes to investigate. After a few tense moments I turn back to him with a sly smile and begin riding him. My teeth clamp onto his neck; a way for me to control my sounds of pleasure. We are frantic now, his hands cupping my ass and urging me to a faster pace.

"Oh, god, you feel so good," I praise him. I grind on him, mashing my pubes into him. Side to side. Back and forth. Were it not for the location I would beg him to fuck me from behind. But time is running out. I can feel myself begin to surge to completion; I have lost the ability to do anything more but grind, grind.

His soft, crude words encourage me. His hands guide me to an even quicker pace. And then it hits. My orgasm erupts in a white-hot flash behind my eyes. My muscles squeeze around his dick, triggering another small explosion. "Yeah, oh damn" he pants.

Hurriedly he pushes me off and down before him again. Eagerly I take him into my mouth, bobbing and licking frantically. Moments later I feel the hot rush of his cum hitting the back of my throat. My hand milks his flesh, drawing out the last drop.

Briefly we pause to share a wicked smile, before straightening our clothes. We talk the rest of the flight about nothing in particular. We do not exchange names. Later, during deplaning, as we approach the terminal, I feel a firm hand caress my ass, knowing before I look back that he will be gone.

I wake up with a smile, my hands between my legs as I feel the dissipating tremors of my orgasm.