"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now starting priority boarding for our gold and platinum members."
I fished my boarding pass from my pocket, picked up my hand luggage, and went to the checkpoint.
My company sends me all over the globe. It's not the hugest or richest of companies, and I don't belong to the top executives, so unfortunately I don't fly business class. But at least they buy me priority boarding. And extra legroom.
"Have a nice flight, Mister Dukakis"
"Thank you."
I moved down the ramp, through the connecting corridor and into the plane. I didn't particularly like flying, but it came with the job. I mentally prepared myself. I never get very lucky on flights, and if there's a really fat guy on the plane, I'm guaranteed to sit next to him. Beautiful women, on the other hand, are never my neighbors.
This time, the situation was different.
As I went down the aisle, I saw an amazingly beautiful face sticking far above the seat in front of her. At that moment I was thinking she was somehow standing upright, or sitting on her knees in her seat, because people - especially women - just aren't that tall. She had dark brown hair, tied into a tail. Her eyes were dark as well. She had luscious lips, and a square jaw that make her look strong while still feminine. I looked at the row numbers and to my utmost joy, I saw that I would actually be sitting next to her! I put my hand luggage in the overhead compartment and took a furtive glance at her while doing so. It was then that I noticed that she was just sitting normally in her seat, and that she was, in fact... huge. Her legs pushed against the seat in front of her and her knees were above the level of the tray table. She was crammed like a sardine. But I didn't think of that at that moment. I could only see her legs. She wore cut off jeans shorts that only hid the topmost part of her thighs. My breathing halted for a few seconds, and I stood as frozen to the ground before I was able to point to the window seat, telling her that I was there.
I think she sighed - maybe she had hoped for an empty seat next to her - from experience I know it makes all the difference. She got up with a lot of difficulty, wriggling those big legs out of the seat. I couldn't believe my eyes when she stood upright, and I saw several other passengers look in her direction, their mouths agape. She had to actually bend her head so as not to bump it against the plane ceiling!
I settled myself into the seat (18K). Actually, I didn't need the extra legroom - which was clearly not sufficient for my neighbor - as I'm a short guy of just 1,6 meters. Flights were one of the occasions where the small stature that I had been bullied for at school was actually an advantage.
As the giantess next to me sat down again, my seat shook as with a blast of turbulence.
Throughout the welcome speech of the captain and the showing of the safety video, I tried to get more of an idea of passenger 18J. Sitting next to her, I wasn't in the best position to look at her. I faked an interest in the other side of the plane and in that glance took her in again. She was staring right ahead of her and her profile was as beautiful as the frontal view. She wore a light blue sweater with long sleeves, and I couldn't see anything of her upper body. But then I lowered my eyes to her thighs, as unobtrusively as possible.
I need to tell you at this point that I have a bit of a weird... deviation. For as long as I can remember, I have loved tall and strong women. I remember being maybe eight years old and measuring myself, in terms of length and size and sometimes also strength, with my female classmates, who almost all were taller and bigger than I was. Years after that, on a Saturday afternoon at home - I remember it like it was yesterday - I was watching TV and for the very first time saw a female bodybuilding contest on the sports channel. Until then, I had thought that bodybuilding was something for men only. The women I saw on TV amazed me, and I couldn't stop watching them. I was fascinated by them flexing their muscles and showing their oiled bodies to the audience.
Since then I have watched countless YouTube movies of female bodybuilders and downloaded a gazillion images of musclewomen from the web. I have gone to gyms now and then in the hope of catching one in real life, but always without success.
And now, I was sitting next to one. For yes, she was not just a huge woman: that first glance at her legs had made it immediately, unequivocally clear to me that she was actually, finally, mercifully... a musclewoman!
Ten minutes later, we were airborne and had started our ten hour flight. I still couldn't believe my luck and feared that any moment she was going to pick another spot. I had glanced around before and noticed that fortunately the flight seemed more or less fully booked. Besides, apart from business class, which I guess she couldn't afford any more than my employer, ours were some of the best seats on the plane, cramped though she was. It really did look I was going to spend the entire flight next to this goddess!
To be able to look at her less conspicuously, I selected a movie, plugged in the headset, and pretended to be watching. I turned my head to my left as far as was possible without raising suspicion, and bowed it slightly. From there, straining my eyes just a little bit, I was able to see more or less the entirety of her upper legs, and her right calf. And boy what a sight it was.
Below her shorts started thighs that were not just massive in volume but also incredibly striated. It looked as if there were at least four or five places in that leg where you could easily put a glass marble without it falling off, even in turbulent conditions. There were muscles there that were invisible in my own legs. And there were beautiful veins, running throughout the tanned skin. Her upper leg was not parallel to the ground, but actually went in an upward slope. The knee, as I had observed before, was pushing against the seat in front of her. She was wearing white sneakers with pink stripes, without any socks. Above her thick and yet still elegant ankle, the lower leg widened into incredibly broad calf muscles that were beautifully defined. The side of her lower leg showed the beautiful striations that always did it for me. Indeed, I noticed that by now I had a huge hardon and had already wetted my pants a little bit with precum. How was I going to survive this flight?
I think for the next minute I just kept looking at every square centimeter of that incredibly muscular leg. Then, all of a sudden, she started to flex it. Maybe she was already stiff and in need of some movement. I saw the muscles in the upper leg move first. Then, not minding that she was pushing the seat in front of her, she raised her toes, thereby flexing the calves. I almost creamed my pants. Her flexing lasted for maybe two entire minutes, and then she relaxed everything again. I just continued my subtle staring.
It was another twenty minutes later that it happened. From the corner of my eye, I saw her arm move. I didn't think anything but then felt my shoulder being tapped. My heart skipped a few beats. I turned my head towards her, grateful for the opportunity to look at her face, almost a foot above mine. I saw her lips move, and quickly took off my headset.
"Sorry, I d-didn't hear you," I said nervously. She was so beautiful. And young! I think she wasn't older than twenty-five or so.
"I asked if you wanted to touch," she said.
"T-touch?" I managed. Touch what?
There was not a hint of embarrassment in what she said next. "You've been watching my legs the whole time. I was wondering if you wanted to touch them."
"What? I- I wasn't watching your legs. I was watching the movie," I said, hearing how unconvincing I sounded.
"Okay, fine," she said. "Enjoy the movie then."
Was she disappointed? She fumbled with a fingernail. I realized my mouth was agape. Then I heard myself speak. Every one of my braincells must have realized I couldn't miss this opportunity. "I'm... I'm sorry, you're right. I... I have been... stealing a few glances at your legs. I was just... I've never seen such big legs on a woman."
"On a woman?" She smiled mischievously, while biting the nail of her little finger in a way that was just beyond sexy. "Or on anyone?"
"Anyone," I added quickly.
"And what do you think? Too big?"
"Eh... not... really. I think your legs are... ehm... very... beautiful, actually."
"Thank you." Her smile was even broader now. "I work hard on them."
"I'm sure you do. Are you like... a professional athlete?"
"Just a personal trainer, who wants to be as big as possible."
"Ah." It was all I could utter.
"You, on the other hand, don't look like an athlete," she then said. "How tall are you?"
I was wondering if she knew how incredibly hot I thought this conversation was. "I'm just one meter sixty," I said. "You?"
