For H, with whom I first wrote erotica...in recognition of what we never tried.
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He first noticed her several places ahead in the security line at the airport. She was late 30s or early 40s, 5ft 7in or so, shoulder-length dark hair, slim, with an attractive face. Well-dressed, tight expensive jeans, designer purple low-cut top. "Nice ass," he thought in that unconscious male way when she bent down to slip her shoes off. And when she stood side on in the body scanner and lifted her arms he saw she was stacked as well.
Or else had been to Victoria's Secret. You couldn't be sure any more; lingerie could get a girl several cup sizes.
She was sitting in the departure lounge for the same overnight flight when he got there after his usual desultory ramble through duty free...the single malts were almost always more expensive than on the street back home. His impressions were confirmed; pretty face, nice body, well dressed. He watched her disappear down the entry ramp when they boarded the first class passengers.
"Mr Roberts?" The girl scanning the boarding pass looked at him. "Could you wait to the side please? There's a problem with your seat assignment. "Great" he thought, "I'm going to get bumped." He started thinking of the calls he'd need to make, the meetings to reschedule.
"Mr Roberts?" The girl was talking to him again. "We're overbooked in economy. So we're going to seat you in Business Class. I presume that's fine?"
The stewardess showed him to his seat and a pleasant surprise...the woman from the security line was in the adjoining seat, and she smiled as he sat down. "Hi. I'm Natalie," she said, leaning a little forward and holding out her hand. "Richard. Richard Roberts," he said shaking her hand. The seats on this model of plane were arranged in a configuration of head-to-tail, with a low dividing wall in between, which meant they could look more or less directly at each other. The seats converted into beds by extending the footrest and putting the seatback down.
"Nice looking man" she thought, checking him out. Average height, medium build, graying hair. Slim, some facial lines. She put his age as somewhere in his 40s. She studied his hands. No wedding ring.
They exchanged the usual pleasantries; jobs, cities, travel stories. He noticed her book and enquired...she was reading "50 Shades of Grey"
"So what do you think of that book? I tried to read it but it seemed a bit formulaic. Really badly written. And I don't believe any intelligent educated woman would be involved with S&M. And certainly not with a name like Anastasia."
"Oh I don't know about that," she laughed, "What woman wouldn't want to be subservient to a hunk like Christian Grey?" Anyway it's fantasy. Like that Mile-High stuff. I certainly don't think that ever happens."
He couldn't tell whether Natalie was joking, flirting or deadly serious. So after a few more minutes of conversation he returned to surfing the movie channels while waiting for dinner.
After dinner she went to freshen up and when she came back she'd changed into a skirt and blouse.
"I hate the restricted feeling those jeans give me," she said, "although they do make my ass look good," turning to him for affirmation.
Flirting. Natalie was definitely flirting. I can flirt back.
"I take the Fifth," he replied. "I can neither confirm nor deny...the appearance of your derriere...in those jeans".
It looked as if she'd removed some other restrictions as well. He thought he could see her nipples pushing hard against the thin material of the blouse, which was tight and unbuttoned to show the swell of her cleavage. "She's removed her bra," he thought and he began to feel some restricting tightness himself.
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The cabin staff turned the lights down and they set up their beds. Richard turned his video screen off and draped a blanket around himself. Natalie was still reading and it was another half hour and several more chapters of 50 Shades before she turned the reading light off, lay down on her back and pulled a blanket up. Richard seemed to be firmly asleep, so under the blanket she carefully slid her right hand under the waistband of her skirt.
"I shouldn't have read that last chapter," she though. "It's got me all excited. I wonder what Richard would do if I reached over and unzipped him." She started caressing herself lightly under the blanket, her finger moving up and down her silk panties in little feather strokes. She could feel the wetness growing as she imagined taking his cock into her mouth, imagined his mouth sucking her nipples and his fingers in her pussy. Under the blanket she opened her legs wider, reaching further down to stroke the inside of her thighs and her slit through the silk.
"Oh" she said involuntarily, closing her eyes. Moving her panties aside, she put one finger inside her pussy, imagining it was his finger... his cock... a large, hard cock she was sure - sliding into her wet warmth...maybe Richard was the one, the man with whom she'd join the Mile High Club.
Richard stirred from his sleep, and glanced through half-closed eyes over at Natalie. Although it was dim, because she was facing him he could see her eyes were shut and her head was back. She murmured again and he could see the blanket moving.
"She's dreaming," he thought at first, until he saw her hand was under the blanket. "My God," he realized, "she's touching herself..." and with this realization his penis started to swell. Still watching surreptitiously, he slid his hand under the blanket and carefully undid his belt and lowered his zipper. His engorged penis pushed against the material of his underwear as he began gently rubbing his cock, trying to be silent, all the while watching Natalie as she pleasured herself.
...lost in her reverie, she imagined being on all fours, his large cock driving into her pussy from behind, her buttocks pushing back into his groin as she tried to take him deeper. She loved the anonymity of this position, the idea of being taken by a stranger she could not see, a stranger using her body for his satisfaction...
Hearing Richard move, she looked at him... he seemed asleep. As she was watching, his eyes opened, then closed halfway... she realized he was looking at her, but pretending to be asleep. "Oh," she thought, embarrassed, "he knows what I'm doing."
