Just got through security. The wait was boring, and boarding was tedious. Neither of us were searched or pat down though, which is nice. That always feels like a bad portent for the coming trip, no matter how random it is, or how benign their motivation might be. Harry’s nervous enough, and I don’t want her to start adding uncomfortable and self-conscious to her emotional palette. She’s never been out of the country, and here we are, getting ready sitting on the tarmac waiting for a plane bound for the tropics. She doesn’t know what she is most excited about, but that’s understandable. I’m looking forward to lying on a beach and going down on her for the first day or so, but after that I’ll have to get to work. I have no idea what experience I am actually most excited to share with her, though.
I have to admit, I really didn’t think this flight would be so… funky. Flying in a twin prop can be a bumpy ride, especially for quite so many hours. Who takes a deteriorating Q400 this fucking far? Still, it can’t get me down for long. I am really happy right now. I keep looking over at Harriet and seeing the excitement all over her face, and I can’t help but grin sheepishly. Every time, she asks me “What?”, and every time I tell her it’s just that I like her so much. She doesn’t know what to do with that information, but I can tell that it’s at least making her want to smile.
The plane is not full, but it’s far from empty. The two seats across the aisle from us are empty – which is nice – and there’s only one guy in front of us. Looks like a college student. Maybe. Cute, too. Well, all I can really see is his neck, but it looks pretty bitable. Harry is starting to look pretty nervous, and I really wish that there was something I could do. Maybe I should have pulled her into a bathroom and fucked her while we were waiting to board. We just have so much luggage. Fuck, now I can’t focus. I want her so badly. All the time really, but that much more now that I’ve been imagining it.
I should have pushed her up against a wall, and done what I do best. I should have held her against the metal door of the stall and got her wet with a hand tight on her throat. Nibbling on her ear, biting her wrist… these would both have been good, calming, less dramatic things to do. That and fuck her. I so should have fucked her.
What would that have even looked like, though…? Whatever. Couldn’t matter less. Fuck realism. I just wish I could have helped her there. There’s really no cure for her anxiety like an orgasm. I wish I had lifted her up and put her on the edge of the counter. I should have gotten on my knees, put my face between her legs and licked her pussy until she came… Massaged her clit with the firm tip of my tongue, mmm… I should have pushed it inside her, and circled the walls of the entrance to her.
Maybe I would have even gotten out a toy and made her cum so hard she squirted in the sink. I guess someone would have heard that. Of course, that could be fun too, if we didn’t mind missing our flight. Still, the idea of her gushing all over the counter and screaming so loud we get escorted to security is fucking hot. Fuck, now I’m going to want to run my hands all over her amazing body for this whole fucking flight… Way more than usual, even. I won’t be able to stop thinking about going down on her.
There is no better high in the world than making Harriet cum. Seriously. She is unbelievably responsive, and there is never a question in my mind that she is enjoying herself. I’m excited for her first flight, but I can’t wait to get her in that huge shower in our room. I love that they sent us a picture of it with someone standing it – completely naked, at that. We told them how important it was that we could really see the scale of things before I accepted this truly bizarre offer. I think the fact that they actually did it is what pushed me over the top to make the decision I did.
Alright. Okay. Everyone’s on board. Sit down, people. Please just do as the nice airline employees tell you. See, I already know that it is required by federal law to do so. I don’t need a reminder, and honestly, neither should any of them. Let’s just get this rickety bucket of antiquated bolts and its half-witted passengers in the air already. This thing really is kind of shabby looking, when I consider it in detail, but thinking about it is affecting my mood, so I’m cool. I can accept that when you find weird deals on travel, you wind up on sketchy airlines.
Ugh. Finally. After another thirty-two minutes of bustling, sitting, standing, seatbelt checks, there are another ten or so spent on the organizing of and closing of overhead compartments. We’re now leisurely starting to taxi toward the runway. After our final lecture, we are in position. As the engine fires up fully, Harry says “Oh…” aloud.
“What’s up?”
“Don’t you feel that?”
“What? The engine?”
“Yeah…” she says, trailing away toward the end of the simple syllable. Now she’s starting to blush a little.
“I feel it,” I tell her, surreptitiously enjoying the rumbling vibration emanating from my seat.
“Is it going to do that the whole time?”
I hear the faintest glimmer of fear in her voice, though I’m not yet sure why. I try to reassure her “Maybe, but just because we’re right over the wing.”
Harry looks at me and asks “Is it supposed to?”
Perhaps I am not as reassuring as I could be with my response, “No, not really, but it will anyway. Until the plane lands, at any rate.”
“Oh my god…” she whispers, mostly to herself. As the plane begins take off, the engines rev up to their full intensity. “Oh my god!” she gasps, this time just a little louder than she means to.
“Settle down,” I say quietly, mocking her a little with my tone.
“Did you do this on purpose?” she asks me with an accusatory glare. She knows exactly how familiar I am with the machinery in question, so it’s not as ridiculous a question as it might be under other circumstances.
“Not at all, but I do think it’s funny,” I tell her, feeling it myself. The vibration emanating from my seat is starting to take its toll on me, as well, and I’m twenty inches further away from the source. I put my hand in hers, and she squeezes it tightly. I squeeze hers back, smiling at her as big as ever. Finally, she starts to smile too.
Harry’s eyelids are fluttering in near pleasure at the teasing moan being emitted by the enormous machine. Her eyes are darting about at random beneath them. I almost feel bad. Maybe I even do feel a little bad. She is more sensitive than I. As sensitive than anyone I’ve ever met, in truth.
I hate to say it, but I am enjoying every second of her suffering. I’m just a bit conflicted about it. It takes a certain amount of effort to suppress a smile or a giggle as she strains to not make a sound. Her front teeth are pressing harder, sinking deeper into her bottom lip. I’m a little afraid she’ll hurt herself, but what else is there to do?
An idea sneaks slowly into my brain, and it percolates for a few minutes. In my bag, there’s a jewel. Something special. Close to my heart. A miracle of mechanical engineering. Powerful, smooth, and rigged for silent running. As well as a vibrator can be, at any rate. I never leave town without it. In fact, I rarely leave the house without it. With a bit more consideration, I decide that in truth, it is probably unnecessary. At least for the moment. A few more moments of slow, meandering taxi across the reinforced concrete, and the plane reaches the runway proper. I want her to enjoy herself, but I don’t want to push her nerve endings into outright shock.
“This is it,” I tell Harry as she looks to me for reassurance, “It’s going to be great. I promise.”
The next thing that happens is familiar to me, but she is simply not prepared for the wall of force which drives her back against the chair. Her head snaps back against the cushion. Ouch. Her eyes widen in shock. The combination of the surprise, movement and the dramatic increase in vibration has greatly accelerated her pleasure. Knowing her face as I do, I can see that this thing might actually make her cum. Smiling quietly to myself, I close my eyes and think ‘In fact, she is definitely going to cum before this plane lands.’
“You’re incredible,” I tell her.
Choking on a silent gasp, she replies “So are you,” and grabs my hand again.
Again she finds herself unprepared for the falling sensation which helps define the experience of liftoff, and the steep tilt we remain at for the next few minutes. She says nothing else until we level off a few minutes later.
“Okay… that was…” she trails off again.
“You alright, my love?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she pauses, “I think so…” she thinks about it for another moment “Yes.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing.” She takes a very deep breath, “I’m good…”
She speaks in her tense, overstimulated voice. I know she’ll be fine, but I am going to worry a little. I can’t help it. Not when it comes to her. I hold her hand in silence for a few more minutes. After a while, I see that she is drifting off, so I kiss the side of her neck and whisper, “Sweet dreams.” Of course, I’m certain she will have some lovely dreams with that buzzing under her seat. A sexy nightmare, at the worst.
