The Flight

The airport air doors hissed their welcoming sigh as they parted before Her. She was a formidable sight, clad in red leather and black silk. She spoke of old money and high values, a thoroughbred amongst the masses of humanity. She was tall; almost 6ft in stockings, slim and slender but She carried herself with a regal air. Her demeanour was of old school charm with the haughtiness of high breeding and finishing schools in the Swiss Alps.

Her harried butler Jenson struggled with the baggage trolley, piled high with La Croix leather suitcases and Gucci bags. His eyes darted everywhere. He watched Her incessantly, knowing the fools would all be drooling and hoping to catch her eye for a brief moment, thinking they had the chance to steal her imagination. He'd seen it all before, from LA to Paris to Rome to Frankfurt. The fools.

She was above them all, the mindless masses gathered in an airport lounge, bound for their holiday destinations, travelling coach class to exotic destinations like cattle in trucks. She was bound for the First class lounge, and Her annoyance of mingling with the masses was plain to see.

The gigolos were there, looking for their next target, their next meal ticket. He spotted Her immediately. Andy rose from his seat and stepped towards her. He made 3 steps before faltering; the gaze She shot him would have frozen steel, and he withered on the spot.

"Damn Bitch," he cursed as She passed, a wry smile curling Her pouting lips.

"Not a chance" sneered the butler as he passed him, an evil smile gracing his thin lips.

"You'll see" came Andy's retort. "I'll show you" he vowed as the click of Her stiletto's echoed in his head.

Jenson moved closer to Andy as he passed and whispered in a forceful voice, full of venom and malice. "Make one wrong move, Sir, and I'll break your neck with a smile." He hissed.

The look on Andy's face was one of shock and surprise. Surely he couldn't mean that. He didn't look the type to resort to physical violence to protect Her.

She crossed the concourse, under the admiring eyes of the security guard, stationed near the entrance to the First class lounge. As She approached, he unconsciously puffed out his chest and squared his shoulders.

"Good Afternoon Ma'am," He spoke in his clipped British accent, but it was if he wasn't even there, She neither spoke nor even acknowledged he existed.

"Snooty Bitch," He cursed in his thoughts. To say these words would mean instant dismissal. "Bet she still squats to pee." He chuckled to himself as he held the door courteously open for Her and her butler.

"Thank you, Sir." spoke Jenson as he trundled the trolley through the doorway after Her.

"Most welcome, Sir," replied the guard as he turned and openly admired her rear view as She strode toward the counters.

"Are we checked in, Jenson?" She asked in her reserved accent.

"Yes Ma'am. All the formalities have been attended to. May I suggest a drink in the Bar before our flight?"

"Yes Jenson. Order my usual while I powder my nose," She whispered.

"Certainly Ma'am. I'll get right on it," answered Jenson.

She strode off in the direction of the powder room, her high heels clicking on the marbled floor. Jenson hurriedly ordering a small carafe of white wine from the bar. The barman spotted his furrowed brow and rose to speak, but Jenson's withering look made it clear that he was there to serve and not to converse.

"These people must learn their place, their station," Jenson thought to himself.

She entered the powder room. She was alone at last. A moment's peace in a hectic schedule. Travelling was a necessity but a chore at times. She wished she could travel alone, but her father would never allow that. Jenson was a faithful servant, a protector and a companion, but never a friend. Friends were few and far between. She had had plenty of friends at the school in Geneva, but they were a million miles and five years away from those carefree days.

She slipped into the stall, carefully closing and locking the door behind her. Slipping her expensive red leather dress up , she peeled her black silken panties down her shapely legs and sat down. The pleasure thrilled her as she relieved herself in the stall. Finishing she slowly trailed her fingers up her legs, thrilling to their touch.

"Not here, not now," She scolded herself, mockingly.

She slid her panties back up, adjusted her stockings and flushed the toilet. Making her way to the vanity mirror, she washed her hands with that same wry smile. Her face was perfect, her make up intact from the car journey, but she lingered for a moment more before the mirror, as if daring it to reveal her faults.

Making her way back across the lounge, she felt the eyes on her, the lingering glances of the men, the envious looks of the women. "Ha, let them look," She thought wickedly as she passed them by.

Jenson was there at the booth waiting, a small carafe of wine on the table and a single glass. He never drank on duty, her father would kill him for that indiscretion. He was there to protect and serve Her, his only job in life was to make sure that she was happy, and safe from those that would harm her. As an ex-SAS officer, he was more than capable of that, as a few had found out.

She entered the booth and slid down into the comfortable leather seat, Jenson caught a brief flash of black-silk covered thigh and an even briefer flash of black silk panties. She loved to tease him, but to make any move would be a fatal mistake.

She sipped the wine, a fine sharp chardonnay, her lipstick staining the rim of the glass as Jenson bustled around, checking luggage and documents. Her thoughts turned to the journey ahead. Her father was waiting for her in Hong Kong. It had been almost a year since she had seen her father, a busy banker for an international company.

"We have approximately 45 minutes till take off Ma'am," Jensons' voice broke into her train of thought.

"Yes, Jenson, I know," She replied hastily, her voice miles away. Her father had always had that effect on her. She was always ready to drop everything for him. He was the only man who intimidated her still. A look from him was like a slap across the face. She admired and respected him, but fear held a common place there too.

Time flew by and the rest of the First class lounge was a blur. The flight announcers metallic voice broke her reverie. "First Class Passengers on British Airways Flight 567 to Hong Kong are now requested to proceed to the departure gates. Please have your boarding pass and passports ready."

She slipped out of the booth and stood up slowly, allowing Jenson another quick flash of well turned thigh. She ran her hands down her sides, smoothing the red fine grain leather back down. Her hands brought her that brief flash of pleasure as they did earlier.

"Are you ready, Ma'am?" Jenson spoke gently.

"Yes, Jenson, Lets go," She answered him quietly. "I'm ready."

Seated in the warm cocoon of the First class cabin, she was engrossed in the pre-flight activity. Passengers finding their seats and stowing luggage in overhead lockers. The hostesses bustling by, making sure all was done and ready for take-off. She hated this part, the waiting for that sudden surge of power as the jet leapt skyward.

Jenson took his seat beside, he'd taken care of all the luggage now, and could relax slightly, The easy part of the journey lay ahead, 12 hours from now, the bustle would begin again. He looked forward to the flight and the much needed rest. The large jet rumbled into life as the huge engines engaged and ran up to speed. The cabin vibrated warmly as the crew took it through the pre-flight check with practiced ease.

They had travelled many times together, to many ports across the world, but every time they flew, she amazed him by stealing her small hand into his. He took it as a sign of nervousness; little did he know the real reason.

Air travel excited her, she could feel the jet pulse beneath her and this was having an effect on her. Her breathing was just slightly abnormal and her pulse rate quickened. The jet turned out onto the main runway and dipped slightly under brakes; she felt it move with her. The engines began to whine as they increased their thrust. Her blood pulsed though her veins in time with them. It drummed in her temples and she felt her nipples harden as the plane shuddered and started to roll forward. The surge of power was immense, and her body reacted accordingly.

Her breath quickened and a hot glow of rapture swept her body. Her juices started to well up in her and she fought to maintain control of herself. She bit down on her lip as the jet hurtled itself down the runway and at the moment the jet broke free, she squeezed Jenson's hand hard. Her breath was ragged, her pulse pumping in her head and her small tight nipples hard as pebbles as the orgasm tore through her. Her black silk panties were soaked. She held the moment for as long as possible before collapsing against the back of the seat and disentangling her hand from Jensons.

The jet tore into the sky and she relaxed again. She loved take-off. All that power unleashed at once, the vibrations and the noise of it all simply thrilled her.

Jenson relaxed and open his briefcase. He extracted his book and set down to read. Flight bored him; he had travelled everywhere over the world, both on duty with the SAS and now with her. It was a necessary evil, and he was glad to be finished with it.

She slipped out of the seat as soon as the cabin warning lights went off, she had to change her panties. The dampness between her legs was beginning to become uncomfortable and she needed to freshen up. "Back soon Jenson. Ladies room," She smiled shyly as she slipped away.

He nodded from behind his book. "Yes Ma'am."

She walked down the isle of the cabin, a slight smile held on her lips. The steward coming the other way asked if she was Ok. "Yes thank you." She whispered, hiding her devilish grin.

She slipped into the aircrafts cramped little toilet, carefully locking the door behind her. Lifting her dress she slowly slipped her wet panties off. She looked into the mirror. She looked a picture of sex, her red leather dress lifted around her waist, and the neatly trimmed red thicket nestled at the top of her thighs. Her black silk stockings and garter contrasting the red of her dress and her bush.

"Oh God!" she whispered to herself. "I need a man."

She sat down on the toilet, hoisting her feet onto the small sink bolted to the wall in front of her. Her hands busied themselves by undoing the buttons on her jacket and then her blouse. The cool air felt good on her skin as she opened her blouse and she looked to the mirror again. This time it revealed her long shapely legs clad in black silk, a crumpled white blouse and a black lace push up bra.

She slowly undid the front catch on her bra, and let it fall open, revealing her firm, small breasts crowned with dark brown nipples. She blew on one, and it responded by puckering and hardening again.

"God, I'm horny!" She giggled to herself as she rolled the nipple between her fingers and blew cool air on the other. She slid her other hand slowly downwards, over her flat stomach, tracing a path toward her navel. Slowly she traced the outline of her garter-belt. She sucked in her breath, feeling the tingle of her fingers on her smooth skin, causing the sensations she felt earlier during the jets take-off. Her mind was racing, her breath quickening as the tingling spread. She could feel herself getting wet again.

"Mmmmm." She moaned lustily as her hand continue it journey of discovery down her body. She felt her mons swell as she touched it gently. Parting her slender legs wider, she slipped her fingers down her crevice, brushing her engorged clitoris. The bolt shot through her, causing her to hit her head on the wall behind her.

"Ohhhhhhh!" She moaned through tightly clenched teeth as her fingers continued their teasing path to her sex. She gently spread her outer lips with her fingers and rolled her clit around with her thumb, feeling the welling sensations spreading through her pelvic region. Uncontrollably her hips jerked upwards, smashing her thumb harder against her nub, causing her to shudder and stretch her long body out again.

"Oh my God!" she hissed. "I'm gonna come!" She ground her thumb harder and harder, faster and faster in a circular motion around her clit. Cupping her wet pussy in her hand, she spread her lips wide and slid one finger gently in to herself, her walls parted smoothly to take her. It felt so good. Slowly, deliberately she slipped the second finger in, beside the first one. She felt full, almost on the verve of another orgasm.

Suddenly, a knock at the door startled her.

"Are you Ok in there, Miss?" the stewardess voice echoed through the door. "Do you need some assistance?" she inquired.

"N-No, I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute," She managed to call out in a semi-composed voice.

But she couldn't stop. She had to come; she needed the release that her orgasm would bring. Almost hurriedly she began again, probing herself with two fingers while stroking her clit with her thumb. The waves were building, her breathing was now rapid and thready. She was close. Damn close. She probed and teased herself, her hand was sticky with her sweet nectar and the confined space of the toilet was fragranced with the sweet smell of her perfume and her musk.

Her hand was pressed up hard against her pussy, her fingers buried deep when she let go, gasping at the shock as the waves of bliss crashed over her. She bit down hard on her lip to keep herself from crying out; the force of her orgasm took her upwards, spiralling up before crashing her down again. Her pussy pulsed and contracted against her fingers and her nectar squirted out onto her hand, soaking it.

"Oh God oh God oooohhh Gooooodddd!" she hissed through her clenched lips as the orgasm shattered her. She slumped down against the wall of the toilet, shaking violently.

She stayed that way for a moment, trying to regain her composure and allow her breath to return to normality. Quickly she sat up, and began to dress again, her legs felt wobbly and unable to support her. She pulled a clean pair of panties out of her pocket and wiping her slick wet pussy with toilet paper, she slid them back on. She latched her bra and brushed her blouse down, tucking herself in. She pulled her skirt back down and smoothed her stockings, ensuring the seams were straight.

Very quickly she patted away the beads of sweat from her forehead and retouched her make up. She glanced into the mirror and her wry smile appeared again. She looked fine; no one would know of her little adventure in there.

Opening the door she looked into the corridor, one stewardess was in the galley next to the toilet block, but she was occupied with the drinks trolley. She slipped out of the toilet and made her way back towards her seat. Jenson was dozing behind his book, but the instant she sat down, he awakened as if by a sixth sense. She smiled slightly at him.

"Are you alright Miss Selena, you look flushed?" he asked, concern written on his craggy face.

"I'm fine now thanks, Jenson, just a touch of air sickness. Go back to sleep. I'll wake you if I need anything."

Jenson looked at her and closed his eyes with a bemused smile. Selena stretched languidly out in the seat and rang the buzzer.

"A carafe of Chardonnay please and a cheese board, air travel makes me hungry," she ordered when the stewardess arrived at her seat.

"Of course Miss," The stewardess replied with a wry smile. "It has the same affect on me."