It was midnight and Nikita had just passed immigration. She waited outside restlessly for the boarding gate to open. It was twenty-five minutes past take-off time. Typical India. Delayed as usual. She looked at the bar in the distance and then looked back at the screen near her, 'Gate Closed'.
"Ugh. Screw it" she said aloud and walked over to the swirling white chairs at the bar. She ordered a glass of Merlot, sipped its sweet nectar and watched the people rush to their flights.
"Like it'll be on-time anyway. Ha" she remarked to herself.
Almost in response to her self-remark, the passenger announcement for EK352 blasted through on the speakers. It was the last call on her gate.
She rushed to pay the bill and walked over to the flight. Through the scanners, boarding pass checkpoint, into the tunnel and inside the aircraft.
Nikita hated flying alone. If she had to be honest, she hated flying, full stop. The lady showed her to her seat and she sighed. Yet again, they had put her on the basinet row with not one, not two, but three crying babies, two of which were newborn. She massaged her temples and sat down. This was going to be one long five-and-a-half-hour flight.
As each minute passed, she got more restless. She looked at the rows around her and they were choc-a-bloc full. She sighed out loud. How was she going to make it through this flight?
Suddenly, her eyes widened. She had an idea.
Nikita started to cough out loudly and feign sniffing and sneezing. She continued to this over the next five minutes and then raised her hand in front of the terrified looking mother next to her children and called out to the air hostess.
As the air hostess attended to her, she sneezed loudly again. The air hostess looked at her, neatly clad in her beige outfit with a maroon hat atop her head.
"How can I help you ma'am?" She said.
"Hi. Thanks for coming by. I'm really really ill and this poor woman next to me has three children in my aisle. I don't want them getting sick" Nikita raised her big brown eyes and peeked at the air hostess through her lashes, rubbing her nose for effect.
"Oh, well, umm, this is a full flight so there are no available seats, ma'am. Unfortunately, you'll have to be seated here for now." The air hostess said.
"Please try to help her! I don't want my three children to be sick when we land" exclaimed the now evidently worried mother next to Nikita.
"Let me see what I can do." the air hostess said and then walked away swiftly.
Nikita smiled at herself and then feigned an obnoxiously loud coughing fit that ended in an eventual gag-reflex. She contained herself and smiled at the memory of the last time she was gagged.
She quivered in pleasure, shaking off the memory. She had to focus on the cause at hand. Get out of the row with crying babies.
As the flight took off, Nikita's hope of being moved to a different row was left behind with the city of Mumbai.
She continued to keep up the act, for courtesy sake, or rather for the sake of not wanting be looked at like a total sociopath.
Five minutes after take-off, the air hostess came back.
"Ma'am, there are no seats available but since this seems to be quite an issue, we will move you to Business Class, if that's okay." she searched Nikita's face for a reaction.
"Sure! That sounds okay!!" exclaimed Nikita holding back a smile.
"Do not smile, Nikita. Do not smile. Fake a sneeze right NOW" she told herself.
"Aachooooo" Nikita sneezed louder than intended and had a few people look at her from the corner rows.
She ignored them and grabbed her belongings following the air hostess to Business Class.
She sat down in the aisle all to herself and pulled her laptop out. She could finish writing her erotic story, at last. No disturbances, no judging looks, no crying babies!
She grabbed the table and popped open her laptop. She began reading over the half-written story. Her lips twitched and curled into a dark smile. She felt a warm feeling in her panties.
She furiously typed away. Jenny, her protagonist, would be begging for her release in the story when she was done with the next paragraph.
As she typed the last word of the paragraph, letting Jenny almost cum and hold back on relieving herself at the hands of her master, she envied the make-believe character and reminisced about the familiar sting of a leather whip.
Nikita shook her head and whipped her head to the left, only to find someone staring at her. She looked away and into her reflection realizing her cheeks had gone from rosy to burning red. She lowered her laptop screen and stood up to take a bathroom break.
She could feel his eyes on her. She could feel him watch her ass bounce up and down as she strutted towards the lavatory. She turned around to confirm her suspicion and there his eyes were unapologetically. He relentlessly moved his gaze up her back and to her eyes.
Her cheeks burned again.
He had salt and pepper hair. She hated that cliché but there was no other way to describe it. The perfect mix of salt and pepper in a fresh summer salad. The kind that wakes your every sense up. His eyes were the lightest shade of blue possible - cold but trust-worthy, inviting but threatening. The kind of eyes you'd find on an Alaskan Husky. His jaw was tight, fitting the gaze in his eyes - almost cautionary. The lines on his face carried experience, stress and an undoubted weight on his broad shoulders. He wore a crisp white polo t-shirt, stretched thin but not too thin by his large chest. With it, a tan leather belt, tailored trousers and leather tasseled loafers.
Nikita walked into the toilet panting.
"What...what was that?" she said out loud, almost concerned he could hear her as implausible as it sounded.
She sat down to urinate and willed for the stream to begin. She tried to concentrate on the signs, reading them one by one, to get her mind off things; off him. She wiped herself dry and found that it was wetter than expected. She tried to ignore it.
She washed her hands, wet her cheeks with the cold water, and looked at her blatantly flustered face in the mirror.
"You can do this. You will do this, Nikita" she said to herself imagining the voice of a long-gone master.
She walked out and avoided looking at that side of the flight. She walked back to her seat and stopped, all the blood rushing back to her face, yet again. He was sitting in the seat next to hers now, her laptop screen back-in-position with his eyes glued to it, though his head faced the seat in front of him. He turned his eyes to her and threw her a courteous nod.
She smiled weakly despite of her trembling lips and lifted her laptop to sit down. Her sensual words looked her right in the face.
He sucked her sex dry of any previous juices that lubricated it and whipped her clit making her whimper in pain..."How many more he asked?" and she responded with "Thirteen, master"
..."What is your only purpose, slut?" He whispered in Jenny's ear grabbing her hair downwards and she responded in the only way she knew how, "to pleasure you like the slave I am"
She slammed her screen shut and looked out the window, using her cold hands to bring relief to her hot face.
Now right next to her, he looked at her, daring her, even commanding her, with his eyes to look back at him. She cocked her head towards him and looked at his chest, avoiding eye contact with him, afraid of what her eyes might give away.
"Hello there. My name is Will. What's yours?" His voice was thick and deep sprinkled with an accent that she couldn't quite place.
"Hi" she gulped, "My name is Nikita -"
"Nikita, how old are you?" He cut her off.
"Twenty-four years old. And you?" she shied away from eye-contact.
"So innocent..." He trailed away, "I'm thirty-nine years old"
"So what takes you to Singapore?" His eyes pierced hers and she finally caught his gaze, captivated by the immense intensity behind them.
