Getaway to a Spa – Part 2
After the long wait at the airport, filled with a handsome stranger, masturbatory fantasy, masturbation, dinner, and a martini or two, I was so relieved to be heading to the plane. I was tired from the wait and drained from my unexpected situation. I made a quick excuse to Devon and headed to the restroom to put my panties back on. Unfortunately, they were still soaked. I was still very wet as well. I sent a quick text to Brian to let him know we were boarding and then shut my phone back off. This was SO uncharacteristic of me to deny him phone access to me, but he has a wild fantasy side and I was providing him with plenty of masturbation material.
As I waited in line to show my boarding pass, I realized I had never mentioned that I was married. He wore no wedding ring and neither did I. No wonder he thought I was available! I felt so many different things, a little dirty, a little wicked, a little bad, a little happy, and quite a bit horny. It would be a long stay at the spa until I got home and fucked Brian silly. If he wasn’t over the flu when I got back, heaven help him because I was going to fuck him to death.
The flight attendant handed my boarding pass back to me and off I went down the jetway, thighs sliding back and forth across each other frictionless, I was so wet. “No lube needed today.” I thought to myself as I walked, embarrassed by my own excitement over something that hadn’t happened with someone I didn’t know.
I was now on the plane looking for Seat 26 F. Last row window seat on the right side of the plane. I could snuggle up on my right side, look out the windows to the lights below and sleep the three-hour flight. “If I had driven, I would almost be there now,” I thought. Shuffling a half step at a time down the aisle, I saw blankets and pillows in an overhead and stopped to grab one. Inadvertently, I grabbed two blankets but didn’t want to take the time to put one back. I could hand it to the stewardess later. Besides, I usually get cold on airplanes and I’d forgotten my sweater.
As fortune would have it, there was not an elderly couple seated in 26D and 26E. In fact, there was no 26E at all – there were only two seats, a little wider than usual on the last row, an aisle seat, and a window seat. And Devon was seated on the aisle in 26D. This was to be a very interesting three hours indeed. Devon smiled and his eyes sparkled at the sight of me. He rose to step out, but I chose to slide on by him, his hard cock pressing against my ass. Yes, this would prove to be a very interesting journey. Getting comfortable was a process of being uncomfortable. He knew I could feel his throbbing cock on my wanton ass and I knew that he could tell it was wanton.
We spoke few words as we settled in. I thought it best to snuggle into my sleeping position and feign sleep as quickly as possible. I put the pillow up against the side of the plane, handed a blanket to Devon, and curled under the one I kept. He mumbled some words of appreciation for the blanket, but I didn’t really pay attention. Things had gone too far and it was now definitely time to get things under control. For reasons unknown to me at the time, I never lowered the armrest between us. Perhaps it was because I needed more room to get comfortable on my side, or perhaps, I had already planned what was to happen next.
The plane rumbled down the runway and we were off. I could feel Devon’s thigh against my ass. I could also feel my juices beginning to flow. Because it was now past dark, the cabin lights were dimmed and we sat in near darkness at the back of the plane. My heart was racing, and I could hear Devon’s labored breathing. He was aching for me and I knew it. I was aching for him and he knew it. Just one little three-hour flight and the awkwardness would be over. I could call Brian and tell him, well, perhaps not all, but mostly about my day, and we could have some wonderful phone sex. I focused on my breathing and, finally, I drifted off to sleep.
Just a few minutes into my ‘nap’, my left arm slid off my hip, down my ass, and onto Devon’s thigh. Without thinking, I just started to rub his powerful leg, trained by hours on the road and court. I stopped my self-indulgence when he rolled onto his right side. My hand was now on the inside of his thigh, just inches from his cock. He gently placed his left hand on mine in comfort. It was like a bolt of lightning through my being. I wrapped my thumb around his and drew our hands to my ass, slowly lifting the fabric of my skirt up to my waist. I then released his hand on my hip and slid my hand back down to his thigh.
Gently scratching my nails against the fine cloth of his trousers, I began slowly moving my hand up and down his thigh as his hand kneaded my hip. It felt even better than I had fantasized about it back in the terminal. His hands were soft and strong. His massaging was both soothing and exciting. It seemed to go on for hours before his hand slid down to my ass. With each squeeze of my cheek, my pussy pulsed and flowed with juices.
I became more brazen and eased my hand onto his crotch. He was on fire. His raging cock was hard, harder than any cock I’d ever felt before and I could feel it pulsing through the fabric. It strained against the cloth and could feel the precum soaking through. I eased the zipper down but had trouble with the belt and button. Devon ran his right hand under his waist, gently squeezed my hand, and together we removed the belt, unfastened the button, and lowered his trousers down to his knee. I glanced over my shoulder to see if the couple in 26A and 26C were awake, but when my eyes caught his, they locked.
I lowered my hand down his waist, gently tickling the pubic hair above his cock. I circled around it, down his inner thighs, and stroked his balls with my nails. After a gentle squeeze, I ran my nails back down his thighs, just to feel those exquisite muscles. He smiled as his left hand went between the cheeks of my ass. I raised my left leg, pressing my foot against the back of the seat in front of me. In unison, Devon and I began softly running our hands everywhere but his cock and my pussy. It lasted for what seemed like hours and it was the single most erotic thing I’d ever known: not having sex while we peered deeply into each other’s eyes.
Then almost like it was choreographed, I gripped the shaft of his cock while his thumb pressed my g-spot as his index and middle finger rolled across my clit. I instantly came, flooding his hands with my juices. Embarrassed at how quickly I had cum (isn’t that a man’s nightmare?), I stopped stroking his cock. He drew his left hand to his mouth, sucking on his fingers one at a time, never breaking his lock on my eyes. In turn, I ran my thumb across the tip of his hard, pulsing cock and drew the precum out and to my lips, never breaking my lock on his eyes.
The head of his cock was spongy but hard, the head pointed at the tip and flaring out at the glans. Such a graceful taper. The underside was tender and lined with a vein that throbbed in unison with my heartbeat. I broke our eye lock and turned my face toward the window, never releasing his cock. I pulled it toward my aching pussy as Devon shifted toward me. Our upper bodies were still quite apart when he entered me. The tapered tip slid right in and as it pressed against my g-spot another orgasm shuttered through me. I bit the pillow as the surge of heat ran through me. My breath was taken from me and my muscles tensed all at once, only to release as the heat reached its peak.
He slowly began sliding his cock in and out of me as I arched my back and pressed toward him to take him all the way in. I wanted to feel him at the depth of my being and I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to thrust away like a madwoman, but being in the plane prevented that. So slowly we went, on and on for what seemed like hours as well. It would take slow, deep stroke after slow, deep stroke to build me to another pillow-biting, heated orgasm. Finally, I felt shot after shot of hot semen splash inside me with each throb and pulse of his cock. It was amazing. His cum soaking the depth of me, I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke to the tap of the stewardess informing me that we were on approach and that I had to place my seat in an upright position and put on my seat belt. I was devastated. Embarrassment beyond belief. Devon was still in me. He might have gone soft at some point, but at this moment he was hard and I could feel him throbbing inside of me. That all ended as the stewardess wakened him. It was an awkward few moments as we attempted to dry off and dress under the blanket with the passengers stirring in the now well-lit plane. If I’d had a parachute I’d have bailed out at that very moment.
While he was shrinking inside of me, I grabbed my now dry panties from my purse and slid them up my legs, then onto my body just as he was slipping out. My hope was to trap as much of his cum as possible so I wouldn’t be lying and sitting in a huge pool of cum, and believe me, it was a large load. Plus my own flood of pussy juices. I had that just fucked smell about me as his cum and my cum began leaking out in great globs onto my panties, soaking into my ass and landing-strip of pubic hair. For once, I wish I didn’t have a Brazilian wax. My husband loves munching on a freshly waxed cooter, but right now I could use the hair to absorb all the cum leaking out of my… Oh yeah, my husband.
What was I gonna do? What was I gonna say? How was I gonna stand up and get out of this airplane without the entire passenger manifest knowing what had transpired between the stud in 26D and the slut in 26F?
How did this make him a stud and me a slut? No, this was a natural, normal act of extreme uncontrolled, unbridled passion at 30,000 feet and that did not make me a slut. It made me a woman of power, passion, and extreme bullshit, but I was going for the bullshit until I could get the rental car and off to my resort. Or at least until I could get to a bathroom and freshen up.
Things were awkward between us. I let Devon get up and leave and I told the stewardess, without making eye contact, that I needed a minute – my purse had spilled out. For a moment I thought I had given myself away and said ‘puss’, but that was just paranoia. I was the last one off the plane, this time making eye contact with the stewardess as I said ‘Thank you’ at the jetway. She smiled a knowing smile. Thank goodness she didn’t judge me. I just said, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be – no one knew – you guys were subtle. Very hot, but very subtle. Hope the rest of your trip is just as enjoyable. Hope mine is for that matter!”
With that remark, I did the cum-soaked-panties-slippery-thigh-shuffle to the nearest bathroom. What a mess! I could not believe the woman in the mirror!
I slipped into the stall, took some wet wipes from my purse, slipped off the panties, and started the process of trying to clean up. In honor of my dear husband, I snapped a few pictures with my cell phone of the mess on my pubic hair, the engorged lips of my vagina, and of the semen running down my inner thigh. I sent a quick text, ‘Landed safely, but slippery. Details upon my return.’
The cum on my skirt was minimal and luckily I was wearing black – hides a world of ills. I needed to avoid a “night cap” invitation from Devon, so I stayed in the bathroom way longer than necessary. Instead of heading to baggage claim, I took care of the rental car first. That took a good half hour. By the time I got to the baggage claim my suitcase was the only bag spinning on the conveyor belt. And Devon was long gone.
I drove the half-hour to the resort and took advantage of valet parking. I’d been serviced by a younger man since I left home, I might as well keep the trend going. The valet was kind of cute, besides, I didn’t think my legs could carry me much further. Stepping into the resort was a bit of a disappointment. I was expecting something that was more, you know, spa-resort looking. This place was just like a regular hotel with a conference center. Of course, the brochure said there were the spa treatment rooms, hot springs, pools, exercise rooms, massage areas, and a Zen garden – I just couldn’t see anything from the entrance that had that kind of feel to it. It was like a mid-west version of the Cancun all-inclusive. Without the sea breezes. And Mexican food. And Margaritas. But they did have some very nice restaurants and my favorite – a piano bar. But not tonight.
After the nickel tour, the bellhop (also very cute) escorted me to the elevator and our trip to the 6th floor. The room was nicely appointed with very modern, very European furniture. I had a terrific view of the grounds. The grounds were beautifully lit with up lights on the trees, accent lighting in the pools and hot springs, path lights, and gazebos. It was beautiful after all – my initial reservations about the place were unfounded. Exhausted, I disrobed in front of the balcony window, something I did in honor of Brian – he loves to fuck me from behind standing in hotel windows or on the balcony while we look down on the streets below. I stepped out onto the balcony and snapped a quick selfie showing my nudity and the view from the balcony, sent it to Brian, and shut off my phone. I strolled to the bathroom and ran a long, hot bath. Bubbles, too. I then decided it was time to call Brian. I had to check in and let him know that I was safe. He always gets panicky about me and the kids being okay. It’s annoying but very reassuring, and in a very geeky way – romantic. Totally unsure of what to say, I decided to play coy.
“Did you have a nice time masturbating while imagining what was going on?” I asked as he answered the phone.
“Oh yes, very nice time. I was also a little worried. You kept your phone off way too much for me.”
“Well, Brian, maybe you’ll have to get used to it for a couple of days.”
“Are you going hotwife wild on me, Diana?”
“Maybe, maybe not”, I replied in my most coy and playful tone.
“Well then, what do I have to do to get you to talk to me when you return?”
Now was my opportunity! “I can think of something – head, lots of head.”
“Oooh, that sounds like my kind of fun. You tell me your dirty little secrets while I lick and suck on that delicious little clit of yours, feeling it swell and throb beneath my tongue. I like this. You should take a couple of days off more often – I get to eat your sweet pussy more that way.”
The tub is my favorite place to masturbate, and my favorite voice was talking very dirty to me. So, even after the massive orgasm in the stall and the 3 or 4 that Devon gave me on the plane, my right hand just had to slide down my belly as Brian described what was going to happen when I returned home. Slowly, in tiny circles, my middle finger went to work. Again.
