Tonya Harding, Cum Fly With Me

Author's Note: A few years back, when this was written, Tonya was the hot, white-trash celebrity slut de jour. There's a lot of heart, and a lot of personality, in that tough little bod, and her fans are legion. Enjoy, and your comments/votes/contact are very welcome.

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The young woman seated next to me really wasn't much of looker. Sort of white-trashy, I thought, with her stone-washed jeans, odd-colored fake nails, and cheap perm job. I wondered why someone like this was flying First Class. She smiled at me, and I returned the smile, but then she dove into her book, and I went to work on my laptop.

We didn’t begin conversation until the attendant offered us mixed drinks, and we both ordered a Cosmopolitan, a vodka-cranberry-juice-Cointreau-lime concoction that had been popularized by “Sex and the City” and was the hot new drink in NYC (where we were flying from to San Francisco). We exchanged a few words about what a tasty libation it is, and each ordered another with dinner.

Relaxed and settling in for a long flight, we began chatting and learning about each other – although my seatmate seemed to enjoy talking more than listening. This I didn’t mind much, because she had a pleasant, strong voice -- not trashy or heavily accented.

She revealed her identity slowly, informing me that she was a professional ice skater, no longer competing. When I stared, obviously trying to place her face, she then said, in a confidential whisper, “I’m Tonya Harding.”

The grin on my mug let her know that I didn’t find this revelation distasteful. To the contrary, I expressed great interest in learning everything I could about what it’s like to be Tonya Harding. And she told me.

As the cabin lights were dimmed and most of our co-passengers drifted off to sleep, we talked nonstop, sipping on a couple of Coronas, which only served to lubricate the conversational wheels.

I work in professional sales, and so I am a skilled interviewer and listener. This combination led to Tonya sharing intimate details of her life that I’m sure the most intrepid reporters couldn’t dig up.

We were getting to be old friends when the subject of her X-rated home video surfaced. At this point, Tonya, obviously drunk and unabashed, moved her face within an inch of mine and, with a giggle, whispered that she’s made more money from the sale and distribution of that video than from all her years in competitive skating. At first, she was upset about its release, but when she saw the moola streaming in, it wasn’t such a bad tradeoff.

I asked her how she felt about total strangers viewing her naked body and watching her get it on with her ex. She said, for her, it wasn’t so different from an audience watching her skate in those sexy outfits – and she was sure that plenty of people, both sexes, got turned on and fantasized about her just from looking at her clothed.

I joked that she was a “cocky little tart,” and she laughed loudly. We stared at each other for several seconds, then, in a disembodied voice, I confessed that I would enjoy seeing that video VERY much.

“Yes,” she giggled, “I’m sure you would.” She dropped her hand into my lap, giving my thigh a playful squeeze and, at the same time, rubbing her shiksa nose against mine. I felt my heart pounding, and I knew I had to taste her sweet red lips. We kissed lightly … once, twice. Then she pulled me toward her, mashing our mouths together, thrusting her tongue against mine and exploring my mouth.

We made out like a couple of horny teenagers. Taking a breather, I whispered, “What’s in that tape anyway?”

“Everything,” she said.

“Everything?”

“Do you like sucking?” she breathed in my ear.

“Yes.”

“And fucking?”

“Yes.”

“And a woman’s hand jerking on your hard cock?” Her hand cupped my erection through my wool pants, and she quick-stroked me.

“Oh, YES! Very much!”

As much as I wanted her to bare my cock and jerk it or suck it till I let loose, I knew we couldn’t get away with it on the plane. We resigned ourselves to dirty talk and jokes and a couple of fine brandies provided by the attendant.

I’m sure this was the longest flight of my life, and my dick was up and down so many times, I’m sure it hated me for torturing it so. But it was not to be disappointed.

Tonya and I discovered our hotels in S.F. were within walking distance of one another. As we shared a cab to my hotel, we necked passionately, reveling in our little affair, and thinking ahead to when we could throw ourselves together uninhibitedly.

In my room, we stripped off our clothes and got our first good look at each other in bright light. She zeroed in on my swollen cock, her eyes wide open. Though we were several feet from each other, my cock felt like it could fly right at her – and into her.

In turn, I gazed at her breasts – smallish, but with silver-dollar-size areolas and long, thick, pink nipples. Her cunt was framed with a generous thatch of brown-blonde hair. I love them hairy down there. “Turn around,” I ordered.

She did, displaying the finest white ass God and competitive sports ever created – tight and muscular, but with just a little bounce – placed above two, strong, well-shaped thighs. She waved her ass at me, and her musk filled my nostrils.

We fell on each other like the hungry animals we were. Holding her from behind, my cock wedged in her ass crack, I jammed my fingers in her honey pot and growled, “Listen, bad girl, I want to do EVERYTHING to you!”

And I did. All night long.

Tonya was the first to cum, humping my hand for all she was worth, while I twirled my fingers in her sloppy cooze and my thumb stroked the hell out of her rigid clit. Then, just when I thought my cock couldn’t take another second of inattention, Tonya slid to her knees before me, quickly wetting my prick with broad licks before deep-throating me.

I stood at attention while Tonya did all the work, jacking me expertly with her hand, while suctioning my big purple cockhead. She moaned loudly and appreciatively as hours of pent-up cum gushed into her mouth, filling it with the warm gooey treat. She took it all, and swallowed it all, with the face of the Cheshire cat.

My knees buckled, and we sprawled on the bed, resting.

A quick shower -- during which I sucked her big nipples and ran my groping hands all over her wonderful ass and legs -- and we were back on the bed. Our energy barely slaked, we worked ourselves into orgasm after orgasm, including a lengthy cunt-fucking with Tonya riding me cowgirl-style … a hot ass-fucking, dog-style, that had me blowing my cream into her bunghole as she wriggled and writhed on my cock … and another blowjob, this time with Tonya pulling my cock from her mouth just as the jism began to squirt, giving herself a face full of cum, which she lovingly massaged into her skin using my softening cock as a brush.

The next day we were back to the real world, devoted to our separate obligations and duties. It is unlikely I will ever be with Tonya again. Our night is now a pure and cherished memory; however, I surely am looking forward to seeing the Harding video. Perhaps it will help me relive that glorious night.

End