As Harry slips into a deep enough sleep that she starts to emit the cute, wheezing snore – which to me characterizes bedtime – I start to get a bit sleepy too. Preparing for a nap, I put my head on her shoulder, close my eyes, and smile. Just as I am starting to drift off though, our skulls are flung roughly into each other by an exceptionally sharp jolt of turbulence. The pain in my frontal bone is enough to confuse me pretty intensely, and for two or three seconds I think someone hit has me. At first I’m really offended, and then I’m sad. ‘Why would someone hit me?’ I ask myself. I am not sure if the tear in my eye is one of pain, or emotion.
In the subsequent moments, I realize that of course nobody hit me on purpose. Maybe I got clipped with the drink cart? No, I was leaning the other way… Eventually my wits come back to me and I figure it out. It takes a moment longer for me to think to see if Harriet is okay.
“Whoa,” she says.
“Hey. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She is obviously still a bit confused by what’s happened.
“For hitting your head with mine.”
“I assumed it wasn’t on purpose,” she says, her voice rising and falling over each syllable synchronously with the movement of the plane through the thermal.
“Of course it wasn’t. I love you.”
“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Her voice trembles as she asks, “We’re going to stay that way, right?”
“Definitely,” I tell her with semi-earned confidence. I’ve successfully flown and landed a simulated plane before… Sometimes I talk about the subject of air travel and mechanical flight with more authority than I strictly deserve to, but it’s not like I suffer from a special lack of familiarity with the process. In my defense that sort of exaggeration is usually part of an effort to help someone cope with acute anxiety. I try to keep my comfort with something scary from interfering with my empathy for others who are not so comfortable with that something.
This violent roller coaster goes on for another six or seven minutes before it calms down at all. At this point even I am wondering if a bolt or two is coming loose from those wings. We can hear the clicking and clacking of the plastic latches of the overhead storage bins, but it’s the sound of stressed aluminum that alarms me. The aggressive creaking of the hull sounds like it could turn to the sheering of metal at any moment. At the second that I am starting to develop actual concern, I feel us pass the peak of the thermal. I squeeze Harry’s hand again, knowing that she hasn’t felt us coming out of it. The choppiness of the air gradually decreases for a little while before the plane really starts to calm down. For a moment, it’s even a smooth ride.
As I turn to my right, I intentionally light up my eyes and say “That was fun,” with a grin. I’m trying to cheer her up, but I also mean it. I love this stuff. My heart is racing.
“Nope,” she says, “Not yet. A few uneventful flights first, please.”
“I can see how that might be better, of course. Just try to enjoy yourself with this one if you can though, since it’s what we got. I promise you’ll be alright.”
She smiles. I like it when she smiles. “I trust you,” she says, “I don’t trust this plane. It’s shaking very, very hard.”
I lean a bit closer to her and whisper in her ear, “I know. I liked it better when it was vibrating too.”
“Oh, it’s still vibrating over here,” she assures me, “It’s just also rocking and lurching.”
“That’s a decent point,” I acknowledge her with a more matter-of-fact tone than I strictly mean to.
“This is going to be okay, right?”
“Yes,” I reassure her, “I promise. Focus on the vibration and imagine the first sex you want to have when we get there.”
The weather continues for a while, and just as we are both starting to drift off, the captain interrupts us with some cautionary suggestions. We know. It’s a bumpy ride. We’d know even if they hadn’t told us twice before. Nobody is trying to get out of their seats. Everyone is following the rules. The constant reminders really aren’t necessary.
Both of us are holding the rattling metal armrest beside our seats. The sensation is becoming overwhelming, but I love it. I’m just watching Harry experience the flight, and doing what I can to comfort her while trying not to enjoy her reaction. Too much, anyway. It’s impossible not to enjoy a little bit, in an erotic schadenfreude kind of way. I am… extremely glad that neither of us suffer from air sickness. Talk about a good way to ruin a great time. Honestly, almost everyone on this plane seems to just be enjoying the flight in some way or another.
Watching the rest of the cabin for a moment, I can see which of them are treating it as an adventure, which of them are enjoying it as they might enjoy a roller coaster, and the ones who are just looking forward to telling the story later. I can’t express how happy I am that nobody is freaking out about this. I really want Harriet to be able to enjoy this first experience, and I’ve known the odds were stacked against that from the moment I saw this plane. The fact that it would be capable of teasing her and edging her for more than two hours was unanticipated, though… to say the least. The experience may yet be salvageable.
I smile so wide I desperately hope I don’t look sinister, but I can’t stop. “Hey lovely,” I say to her, “How’s the engine treating you now?”
She furrows her brow and squints at me a minute before saying “Weird. It’s super intense…” she pauses to moan as quietly as she can, her mouth frozen open. “Still vibrating, but I’m starting to get a little numb.”
“Mmm… It’s not like that at all over here. I can feel it, but I’m definitely not getting what you’re getting.”
“Wanna trade?” she asks me. I can hear clearly in her voice that she would be excited for a break, but also that she hopes I’ll say no.
“Definitely,” I tease her, then whisper “but not until you cum.”
She bites her lip and looks at me with eyes which ask if she must, or if she can make it up to me in bed later. In the bed, in the bath, the shower, the beach, the pool. With my gaze I tell her that she will do those things, but that she still has to cum for me now.
I know she wants this plane to land, and I’m not unsympathetic. Since I can’t make that happen though, I just want to keep her as distracted and happy as possible. This is what I can do in moments like this. I take control and help her find calm wherever I can. Forcing her to focus helps.
“I can do that…” she tells me.
“Yes. I know. You can do anything.”
“I’d cum ten times before we land if you told me to,” she whispers.
“Don’t tempt me, love.”
“Just because I’m afraid of the possibility doesn’t mean I’m not tempted by it too.”
“Sometime I’ll make you do that,” I say a bit louder than I mean to, smiling my devilish promise at her.
“You are so mean.”
“I’m so nice.”
“Yeah…” she says as the atmosphere jostles us and she grabs my wrist, “I know.”
The plane rocks hard again. It feels like we’re driving too fast over speed bumps on an already rough road where the gravity has gone all pear shaped. Every time we fall it feels like we are being pulled irregularly back to that road, yet there is no land beneath us at all. Our hearts race, adrenaline rushes in our veins every time.
The sky is cacophonous. It sounds as though the glorified tin can this vehicle deigns to call a hull will be ripped away by atmospheric whim at any moment. Once again, even I am starting to get a bit excited by the precariousness of our situation. My first thought should be for the danger, and it is… essentially. It’s more about Harry’s safety, but there’s a secondary, simultaneous thought. A strange one, by the standards of a sane human at least.
‘What if I got my toy out right now?’ Nobody would be able to hear me with all this noise…
Slowly and without looking at my bag, I reach into it and take out the small, sleek vibrator which lives there at all times. It’s one of my best friends. She looks like a very thick, very long nail. Spectacularly polished steel shines reflected sunlight in my eyes when I look at it.
It’s pretty quiet, but I don’t usually think of it that way. They say it’s nearly silent, which may be true by some standard, but it is definitely louder than advertised. In this environment though, I don’t think there’s a chance anyone would be able to hear it, or discern it from the noise surrounding us if they somehow did. Not even Harriet unless she saw me get it out, and I doubt she is really capable of processing the details of what she’s looking at right now. After twisting the top clockwise I feel it activate. I act like I am putting it back in my purse, but keep it concealed in my hand. I really want this, but I also really don’t want to get caught.
With specific expertise I slip it under my skirt and nestle it exactly where it needs to be. At least, where it needs to be for now. There’s an extent to which I can’t predict where it will go next. For the moment I’m just going to enjoy this, and feel what it has to offer me in this moment.
Fuck… It feels wonderful. I really didn’t expect to need this so much, to be so relieved. I look to Harry and take her hand, smoothly entangling my fingers with hers. She opens her eyes and locks them with mine. I smile at her, and that smile turns into a sheepish grin. She knows.
“Enjoying your favorite toy?” she asks me?
Without any pause I say “You’re my favorite toy.”
“…Oh yeah.” She smiles at me, looks down just slightly, and turns a little bit redder. The things her eyes are saying to me without even meeting mine is extraordinary. They’re asking me if she’s turning me on, and if I think she’s pretty. Is seeing her like this going to make me cum? Do other people know that we’re getting off? Do they know there’s nothing she can do about it?
Her embarrassed face is so cute. Complex, too. I can barely describe it even when I’m looking straight at it. “I’m enjoying myself, yes.” I pause for a moment to feel the powerful buzzing on my clit. My eyes roll back slightly as I silently gasp. “How are you doing, love?”
Biting my lip, I gaze into my partner’s eyes and await her answer. She takes her time, gasping once or twice before she speaks. “Good, I think. This is not what I imagined.”
From the way she is breathing I know that she is close to orgasm. “Well, I’ll admit that this isn’t a typical flight, but it’s been fun so far.”
“That’s one–” she pauses abruptly to swallow her breath, shocked by another sharp drop of the plane, “Word for it.”
With my voice trembling, I say “Come on… You’re enjoying yourself a little, aren’t you?”
“I am.” She bites her lip and nods almost urgently in agreement, then slams shut her eyes and chirps slightly in lieu of a grander reaction to another substantial jolt.
It’s not long before my mind returns to my own experience. The tool between my legs is steadily moving me closer to the edge. Oh, yes… This feels so good. The vibration in my seat mixes sensually with my fantasies, and the sight of Harry’s face brings me to the edge. I squeeze her hand and look at her, imagining her pussy grinding against my mouth in time to the rhythm at which I’m being fucked. This is it. I’m there. Here. Wherever.
Harry can see it on my face, and she begins as well. Our bodies are tensing, crushing down on themselves with all their might. Our clits are at once numb and on fire, and as we are being rocked by the plane a sharp electric sensation passes through each of us as though lightning has struck the cabin. As the plane begins to descend, the intensity of our flight climbs even higher.
Every muscle in my body is tensing. I’m frozen in place like stone, and painfully silent. I am burning brightly and screaming so loud inside that I know that some part of me aims to destroy the boundaries of my mind with the piercing of the imaginary sound. I no longer have the ability to process or even perceive anything happening around me. The thumping, grinding, creaking, clanging racket of the cabin is all one sustained tone to me now, and I feel all sound through the tip of the machine pressed against my clit.
At present I am unsure whether I’m falling out of the sky while simultaneously summiting the peak of ecstasy, or safely approaching my destination. This is just one of those moments to enjoy what’s amazing and ignore the rest. I’m glad Harry remains unburdened by the knowledge of typical flight procedure. She’s a lot deeper into this labyrinthian orgasmic dream than I am. I love this. And I love her. This moment should last forever.
The way time is stretching out I wonder if it might, and I have to confront the fact that I might actually be okay with that. In a peculiar way, this is perfection.
