I texted Jack that I was on the plane, squeezed between a young man on the aisle and a woman about my age who was sighing out the window. “They changed my seat. I’m in the last row.”
“I changed it. I expect pictures.”
The captain’s voice told the attendants to prepare for departure.
“Don’t make me do this.”
“I don’t make you do anything. I love you.”
I loved him too. He never, ever made me do anything but I always did what he asked. I never, ever dared not to.
I dislike flying. I hate flying overnight. The window-woman glanced briefly in my direction before insulating herself behind a sleep mask and under her headphones when the cabin lights went out. I wondered how long it would be before she fell asleep. Would she notice my hand on her knee then, on the inside of her thigh, or stroking her pussy over her leggings? No, she had flown like this too often. She’d most likely simply shift in her sleep, maybe swat the air, or at best scratch the itch I would leave behind between her legs.
My other seatmate’s attention was already fixed on a game, the light from his phone flickering over his beardless face. I didn’t recognize the graphic on his t-shirt, his khaki shorts were too loose to tell what was underneath and his no-show socks showed over the edges of his seemingly new sneakers. He smelled good. He smelled new. I ran several scenarios through my head for a casual way to find out his age – too young would have been too bad.
I was never good at small talk. “Excuse me? How old are you?”
Although obviously puzzled by the question, his youth answered me. “I’m seventeen.”
“Ah,” I said and pulled a tablet from my bag. He expected more conversation, didn’t get any and went back to his game. I didn’t know whether his age would make my task more difficult or not. I had to do it though and mulled over my approach for the next half hour.
The woman on my left gently snored under her mask. The teen on my right was leaning back with his eyes closed. I raised the shared armrest and bumped my shoulder against his to make sure he was awake. When he looked my way, I ignored him and pulled the strap from my maxi dress from my shoulder, and pulled my arm through. My elbow jabbed his arm as I fiddled to remove my bra. I fought from smiling at his expression when he discovered my uncovered tit. I draped my frilly black bra across our legs and pulled my dress back up. “You don’t mind, do you?”
His head wobbled back and forth, which I took to mean ‘no.’
“Thanks. I hate these things. I don’t think I need one, do you?” I turned slightly his way so he could see my nipples poking against the thin fabric. I lied. I do need one.
“Um. I guess.”
I gave his knee a pat, left my hand there, and forgot about the black lace for a moment to let him process what was happening. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, lifting my bra to eye level, shaking it as I spoke. “I never think to put these away when I take them off.” I stuffed it up the leg of his shorts. “You should see my bedroom. Bras and panties and dresses everywhere. I can’t wait to get these things off.” I didn’t have to imagine what he thought about that. His shorts weren’t so loose after all. “Can’t do that here, can we?” I chuckled at my statement of the obvious and played with the hairs on the inside of his thigh.
He tried to find a home for his hands, so I handed him his phone from his lap. “You should play some more.” He seemed relieved and went back to his game, although he froze and the game made a rude sound when I started to massage the healthy bulge in his shorts. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Really?” I was honestly surprised.
His eyes didn’t leave his game. “I had one but she broke up with me.”
I gave his cock a long, firm squeeze. “Well, I think she’s stupid.” I continued with a more enthusiastic massage. “Did she ever do this for you – rub you like this?” He dumbly nodded. “Over your shorts or under?”
“Under. Sometimes.”
“Good.” I unbuttoned and unzipped his shorts. There was a dark spot just below the band of his boxer briefs. He put his forearm on my hand when I tried to fish him out. “Don’t worry, nobody can see us.” I gave him a second to believe me and released his fat cock from its prison. I scooped a drip from his tip and wrapped my hand around him.
“You must be very proud of this – very proud.” I jerked him harder. “You’ll tell me if I hurt you, won’t you?” The phone was still in his hands but his fingers weren’t moving. “Let me know when you’re ready. We don’t want to make a mess.”
Lost, he set his phone on the seat and closed his eyes. I dropped his tray open and put my phone under it. The flash went unnoticed. He started grunting so I covered him with my other hand to capture jet after jet – after jet. Once he was finally done, I nudged him to display what we did. “Good job!”
He looked at the puddle in my palm, then looked for any unwanted spectators. I nudged him again. “I told you to relax.” I wish I could have taken a picture of his face as I licked his cum from my hand and showed it to him, clinging to my tongue, but I did take a selfie with my loaded tongue sticking out. I swallowed it all (it took a couple of tries) and showed him my empty mouth before taking another selfie.
I leaned in close so he could smell his cum on my breath. “Did you like that? Yes? Well, we’re going to do that again.” I teased my dress up, and up until my matching thong was revealed. I shimmied it off, stuffed it into his pocket, and made a show of rubbing a finger up and down my bald slit. I kept my eyes closed and asked about his girlfriend. “Did you ever play with her? Was her cunt smooth like mine? I think it’s better like this, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh.”
I let my skirt drop back down. “Maybe some other time.”
Maybe his cock was already getting hard again or maybe it never went soft in the first place, but I used his leftover cum to stroke him even harder. “I’ll bet you have a lot more in there, don’t you?” He didn’t look away that time and his eyes begged me to keep going. I let a strap fall to get a tit to pop again and rubbed a wet spot into my lap. The poor dear didn’t know where to look. I wanked him harder and rubbed myself harder until I couldn’t take it and hiked my dress back up. I stuck a couple of fingers into my cunt, which I wasn’t supposed to do but I didn’t care. I stifled a moan when I climaxed and never stopped jerking him off the whole time.
He mumbled, “I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” which was my cue to push his tray up and pull his twitchy cock into my mouth. Another load, another selfie, and I was happy with another job handled well. I snatched back my bra and stuffed it into my bag. “You earned the panties. Now cover yourself up. There are people here.”
I staged the pictures to send later and managed to doze on and off for the rest of my flight. There was no need to engage either seatmate while we were in the air, so I didn’t. We landed, I sent my texts and pics, and impatiently waited to deplane. The only other thing I ever said to the young cock sitting next to me was, “Would you mind if I got off first?”
Jack was waiting for me and loaded my bags into the trunk as I got into the driver’s seat. His pants were down before we left the airport grounds. I told him almost everything as he beat himself off all over his fists. I licked my lips but didn’t get any.
Breathing heavily, he asked why I sent two pictures of my mouth full of cum. I looked over with a straight face and told him. “He came twice. You know the rules.”
It took a while for Jack to wank himself hard again. “You had to find a god damned kid, didn’t you?”
“Not my fault, not my problem. You chose the seat.”
He was getting close and we were almost to our exit. “Can I share this one?” He acquiesced and I pulled onto the shoulder. I dropped the top of my dress down, hiked the hem of my dress up, and he shoved himself inside me as the passing truckers honked their horns.
“You’re not wearing your panties.”
“He gave me a tip, I gave him a tip.” It only seemed fair.
