Mid-Air Collusion Ch. 03

I sat back in my seat and made myself comfortable. She once more leaned sideways against me and composed herself before beginning. In the passing seconds my mind raced as I considered the possible story she might divulge to me. Little did I know she was about to exceed all my expectations.

She started by explaining how dull her days could be sometimes when at her office. She seldom saw anyone of interest as part of her job, and when she did it was usually a brief meeting with little time to make anything other than polite conversation. On one or two occasions she had had meetings with new guys who worked out of the London office; there had been sufficient eye contact and positive body language during the encounters, but not once did any flirting on her part result in a date of any kind. It was most definitely on days like these that she would begin to feel horny and extremely frustrated. So much so that by the time she left the office for home she was almost on fire.

What started out as a bit of a laugh the first time it happened had now become a well defined and extremely satisfying game for her. Upon reaching her third floor apartment in the centre of Amsterdam, she would draw her bedroom curtains, undress and take a cool relaxing shower. Towelling herself down, she would then dress herself in her favourite lingerie; a black satin silk bra with matching camisole, thigh length stockings and suspenders. She would dress in one particular corner of her bedroom as if it were her changing room; in her mind it was a private place secluded from the rest of the bedroom, which was her stage.

In the far corner of her bedroom stood a tall dressing mirror and when she was ready, she would stroll casually over to the mirror and stand motionless for a few seconds, admiring herself in her underwear. The sight before her would always please her and turn her on beyond belief. Slowly her hands would begin to caress herself, rising from around her waist and up onto her heaving breasts. Her nipples would stiffen visibly through her bra as her hips would begin to gyrate to the rhythm of her excitement. Throughout she would be watching her every move, pleased with the way she looked and at the way she was performing. Winking at herself, she would finally acknowledge the audience on the other side of the mirror, whom she knew had paid a lot of money to see her perform. And in no way was she about to let them down.

Pausing for a moment to gain her composure in front of the mirror, she would feel a warm glow pulse through her body, an electrifying tingle across her skin, which would send a tremor deep between her legs. She would continue to gyrate her hips as her hands caressed her face and neck, before her fingers then began mingling through her hair. Down again, once more cupping her breasts, she would take her nipples between her fingers and thumbs through her bra and gently tease them for her audience. Down further, she would part her legs elegantly as her hands set about massaging each of them in turn, down the left and back up the right, on each occasion allowing her fingers to glance tantalisingly close to her pussy, which ached away in her underwear. Treating her own frustration as that of her voyeurs, she would sense their eagerness to see more of her and responding accordingly she would then take a step closer to the mirror and turn down her bra, causing her breasts to burst free for all to see. This very simple act would more often than not send the first rush of juice surging past the lips of her pussy, creaming the delicate camisole she was wearing in the process. From now on her pussy would flow with each erotic movement and she knew there was no going back.

Slowly, she would sit down on the floor in front of the mirror and gracefully lie down. With one foot, she would reach out to the bottom of the mirror and tilt it backwards, allowing her to look up at herself. While in this position for the first time she would always sense the calm before the storm as her eyes took in the sight before her. Her slender legs in their sexy stockings and suspenders, her exposed stomach just above her silky camisole, her bra, still clasped from behind and sitting just under her breasts, and her firm breasts themselves with their dark erect nipples. She would feel the eyes upon her, all wishing they could have her.

Cupping her hands around her breasts once more, her legs would begin to writhe involuntarily as she began massaging them, her proud nipples pointing skyward through her fingers. Sliding one hand down onto her stomach she would then gently caress herself lower, teasing herself and her audience by edging closer and closer to her shimmering camisole. As her fingers danced around her naval and inner thighs, her buttocks would instinctively rise from the floor to greet them, such was her body's desire to end the torturous waiting game. With each mounting caress, her legs would open wider, allowing her fingers to explore further, and the view of herself in the mirror as she became more and more exposed to the eyes upon her only served to send her into a wild frenzy. Placing a firm palm over her underwear, she would cup her now soaking wet pussy and marvel at the heat she felt within. Her buttocks raised, she would begin thrusting against her hand, legs slightly bent at the knees and now fully apart. She would sense her audience now screaming with rapture and in response she would slide her hand inside her camisole and in one swift move raise her legs high into the air and rip the garment off in a flash.

Lowering her legs either side of the mirror she rested her hands on each of her thighs for just a second or two as she digested the sight in front of her. She would imagine the gasps of delight as each member of this private viewing saw for the first time her gleaming wet and totally clean-shaven pussy. Always when she saw herself like this for the first time would she imagine just how many of the watchful eyes were now unzipping their trousers and starting to play with themselves. The power she felt was overwhelming. She was extremely proud of the way she looked and because she found the sight of her own pussy such a turn on, she often wondered what a real audience would make of her. Such was her obsession and curiosity with herself, that she would sit up at this point in her show, her legs still either side of the mirror some 30 centimetres in front of her. She would reach out and reposition the mirror's angle so that her inner thighs and pussy now filled her field of vision. The close up view of her pulsating clit, growing before her eyes, would fascinate her. Never had she seen herself so intimately before she started playing this game. Her pussy lips would be fractionally open, visibly coated with her own freshly made juice, giving off her distinctively sexy, yet very feminine odour. She loved the way she smelled when she was aroused. And it saddened her that she was unable to convey her dirty scent to her audience. It was her smell that made her crave to be able to eat herself and she was sure that the eyes upon her would equally long to feast on her if they were able to inhale the beauty of the sight before them. As if in a gesture to demonstrate this, she would take the trouble at this point to cup one hand over her pussy and gently nestle one or two fingers between her lips. As the seal between her lips was broken, a steady flow of her creamy juice would ooze from within her, covering her fingers and filling the palm of her hand. When she had collected enough for the effect, she would hold her hand outstretched before the mirror and smear it down the glass, imagining the clamour of the many mouths behind the screen, licking and nibbling at her sticky fingertips, hungry to be fed. While she did this, she would coat the fingers of her other hand in the same manner and then feed herself. She loved the way she tasted and with her eyes closed she was able to imagine the sensation of the biting and sucking hordes about her fingers.

Now completely frenzied and eager to satisfy herself, she would begin wildly massaging herself with both hands, eyes transfixed on herself in the mirror. Her fingers would probe deep inside her lips from both sides, allowing her to keep her clit well lubricated with her juice. She would stroke her clit rhythmically between her fingers at the same time and her thighs began to heave up and down to this motion as she began a steady climb. She adored the wet sticky sound her pussy made around her fingers, as each penetration of her lips made more and more juice ooze out of her. Pulling her lips wide apart she would marvel at the deep fleshy pink entrance before her, the entrance to her soul. On and on she would pound at her clit, breathing more and more uncontrollably, her soft moans becoming louder and more urgent. Climbing higher and higher, she would begin to work faster and faster, eyes focused on her soaking wet pussy and stiff pulsating clit. In her mind her audience were going wild, many were now unashamedly stroking themselves with as much fervour as herself.

She could see through the mirror a number of faceless men, at least six of them, all with large erect penises pointing straight at her. Each one pulling at himself to the rhythm of her bouncing thighs. And at last, when she could hold back no more, her hands would slow, her legs would begin to spasm and her whole body would shudder as she let out a long low scream of pleasure. On and on her orgasm would send her into rapture. And in the mirror she would see penis after penis begin shooting their hot creamy cum all over the glass. As the energy drained from within her, the image of herself in the mirror would blur as if obscured by the sea of cum now streaking its way down the glass. As the sweat poured down her smiling, exhausted face she would lie back outstretched with her tired arms above her head. And to the sound of a momentous standing ovation from her fully satisfied audience, she would fall asleep...

It must have been some moments before I realised that she had finished telling her story, such was the effect of her mesmerising words. She had conveyed her fantasy with such passion and realism that I was still miles away, in her bedroom, staring at her sleeping body from within the mirror. As a member of her audience I had felt the full effect of her orgasm, for I believed I had cum too when she described the ejaculating penises before her. As I became aware once more of the drone of the aircraft's engines, it was with much relief that I realised that I had not in fact creamed my trousers. Regaining consciousness as it were, I saw her sitting close to me, head back against her seat, staring at me with a wild and wicked look on her face. She was revelling in the effect she knew she had had on me. Her face was glowing with satisfaction. If she had been in any doubt that she was going to be able to match my story, that doubt was now gone, such was her look of triumph. With each passing second back in the real world, I became all too aware of the agony of my pulsating penis, ever erect and quivering against my inner thigh. She seemed to sense my frustration in that same instant, for the expression on her face also changed to convey a total understanding of what we had done to each other. We sympathised over our predicament in silence, yet ever conscious that it was all our own doing.