Fear of Flying

As the plane touched down at Gatwick, I felt relief flooding through my body. Petrified of flying since an incident on a British Airways flight from New York (a disturbed passenger, airline staff assaulted, a hushed, frantic though thankfully fruitless search for an on-board explosive) two years ago, I subjected myself to hours of silent, personal angst by taking up a conference gig in Atlanta this time.

But I was almost home; from London, I had only to suffer the one-hour connection to Amsterdam, which I called home for the time being. Still, I mentally cursed myself for turning down the direct option via KLM, which would have spared me the last unbearable leg.

In my preoccupation up until landing, I had barely noticed the constant glances in my direction from my neighbour of two seats over on the plane, a far above-average looker by typical airline seating standards. My luck was typically sub-standard or so I thought before I became too petrified of air travel to even notice these things.

Now we had landed, I glanced over in my neighbour's direction only to make direct eye contact with the stranger. Yes, quite above average, I mused. The pools of his dark eyes transfixed me. His lustrous, wavy hair appealingly framed masculine features and angular jawline. His physique was lean yet toned under his light blue cotton dress shirt. Without breaking our gaze, he picked up a newspaper from his lap, neatly folded it, reached under the seat with long, elegant fingers to collect his briefcase, and reluctantly (it seemed) turned toward the exit. Realising that the plane was emptying, I collected my carry-on items and quickly exited the aircraft.

Thankfully, my company had upgraded me to business class for this flight, which also meant I could kill wait time in the airline lounge. I still had two hours before boarding for the connecting flight commenced, so I thought to use the lounge showers to freshen up and to distract myself from the prospect of getting on another flight, albeit a short one.

I was still a bit uptight when I got to the lounge but had a plan for instant relaxation. Quickly downing a flute of bubbly white, I delved into carry-on and removed my cosmetics bag, alongside the clear plastic Ziploc containing my bottles of travel-sized liquids.

As I crossed the lounge, I scanned the room with latent curiosity and found myself locking eyes with the attractive stranger from the plane. Removed from the confines of the airline cabin, my mind roved as my gaze fixed on his generous lips. I experienced a sudden fluttering in my stomach and a liquid heat spreading between my legs. Should those lips brush against the soft skin of my... I realised that my face must have flushed with the sudden heat that rushed upward. Feeling purposeful (though no less aroused), I broke our gaze and rushed toward the haven of the showers.

Clicking the lock shut on the stall, I languidly undressed, noting the neat pebbles into which my nipples had transformed, and observing the sticky sheen of clear residue on the cotton of my lacy underpants, evidence of the humidity between my legs. I observed myself in the mirror of the changing stall, separated by an opaque curtain from the shower itself. Medium in height, I had kept a lean waist complemented by full breasts and round buttocks, which sometimes in the summer I would show off in short-shorts, at the risk of attracting wolf-whistles from passing urchins. I thought of the attractive stranger's gaze from the plane and its increased intensity across the greater distance of the lounge, and began to stoke myself gently. My yielding pussy offered another sluice of lubrication, coating my fingertips. I spread my juices upward from my dampened lips to my hardened clit, releasing sparks of electric pleasure.

I decided to get down to the task at hand. I removed three bottles from my liquids bag, shampoo, conditioner and small travel tube of lubricant, and from my cosmetics bag removed two vibrating dildos of different sizes, the larger with a switch for three different speeds, and the smaller with a remote control, with ten vibration patterns and intensities.

My slick lips, pink with excitement glistened as I raised one leg upon the changing room bench. I held my pussy lips open momentarily to admire the wetness. The large vibrator entered my damp slit with ease, and clenching my pussy muscles around it, kept it in place as I picked up the tube of lubricant. Squeezing a generous dollop of the cream on the fragrant dampness of my right fingers, spread my buttocks with my left and found my puckered asshole, spreading the cream around its rim. As I began to massage the dildo in my pussy slowly in and out, I teased my back opening with the penetration of one, then two fingertips. Pleasure quickened my breath, but left my movements flowing and languid.

Feeling dangerous, I unlocked the door of the changing room, then picking up the second smaller vibe and its remote. I then stepped into the shower and drawing the curtain, set the water to cold, to keep my nipples razor-sharp.

I switched on the larger vibe to its lowest setting and slowly started moving it in and out of my clutching lips, eyes closed and my legs shaking from the waves of pleasure that washed over me, flight now a distant memory. It was all I could do to stop myself from moaning.

I had my buttocks spread and my second vibe poised at my back entrance, when the well-mannered click of the changing room door softly closing led me to release my flesh and snap open my eyes. A tall figure cut an imposing shadow on the other side of the curtain and suddenly I felt a strange intermingling of fear and desire, which led me to slow (yet not stop) the work between my legs.

He drew the curtain aside with one hand, sculptural in his olive-skinned nudity. My handsome neighbour from the last flight then silently ran his eyes over my naked body, as if attempting to visually devour me.

I felt that I ought to cover myself, protest somehow but found myself again transfixed,unable to manage an utterance or even to break our gaze. The hand between my legs however continued its work, and as the dildo slipped with ease through my increasingly lubricated folds. The water rolled off of my naked skin, and as he moved the heat of his gaze toward the clutching, slick lips of my filled-up cunt, my pleasure buzzed yet another notch higher. I shifted my own gaze toward his proud erection, which had grown quickly as he consumed me with his eyes.

I realised I could give him something else to watch; switching position now to lift my right foot onto the bench, I revealed the smaller vibe in my right hand, and once again pulling apart my buttocks with my left hand, slowly inserted the vibe into my well-lubricated asshole, feeling the plastic bullet stretching my ass. With the remote, I switched he speed on the anal vibe to medium intensity.

I felt deliciously naughty with slow, dizzying pleasure washing across me from the intermittent patterns of the anal vibe, mixing with the regular, vibrating penetrations of the larger dildo.

Realising that my eyes had closed as I enjoyed the complementary sensations in both of my holes, I acknowledged my exhibitionism once again by opening them to focus upon my guest. He had barely moved a muscle, save for the obvious fact that his erection was at glorious full-mast, its plump purple head straining upward.

I gasped with delight and anticipation.

As he acknowledged my regained attention, he moved slowly toward me, his hand reaching toward mine, which stopped moving between my legs. Gently and slowly pulling he pulled the large vibe from inside me; my hungry cunt continued to clutch at the air. Unhurriedly, he switched the vibrator off and laid it on the bench on the other side of the curtain, then drew closed the curtain once again.

He encircled me with his warm, bare arms until his erection pressed urgently against my stomach. He then pressed his mouth down upon mine, the first roughness of his otherwise gentle though intense desire. Pleasure coursed through by body, enhanced by the ongoing intermittent vibes of the smaller toy still inside me.

Positioning my left leg on the shower seat and the head of his erection at my wet, grasping opening, he sought my permission with his equally liquid gaze. Sighing with desire, I nodded my approval, upon which he slowly pushed his length in, up to the hilt, pressing my body against the wall of the shower. I finally felt filled, squeezing his cock as I hooked my left foot around his firm buttocks.

The pleasure felt so intense, my standing leg started to buckle. Placing his hands firmly behind my buttocks he held me in place, his cock hard inside me. He moved at a slow rhythm at first and gradually increased the speed of his thrusts. As my excitement grew, the intensity of our fucking did as well.

Finally, he turned me toward the wall so that I was leaning on the seat, lifted up my ass, and entered me in one smooth glide from behind, playing with my nipples with one hand and the engorged nub of my clit with the other. I could feel my orgasm building now, as my senses drowned in the intensity of our fucking.

In the distance, I could hear a boarding call for a flight to Zurich, which might as well have been outer space from where my mind was then.

As wave after mounting wave of climax washed over me, I felt a sudden pulsating inside me, at which point he slipped his cock from my spasming cunt and covered the globes of my buttocks in ropes of come.

As I caught my breath, he drew open the curtain, and without saying a word, walked dripping and naked out of the changing stall. Stepping out into the changing room, I wiped steam from the mirror to observe, over my shoulder, my sperm-coated buttocks, the only evidence of our encounter.

I then turned the shower to steaming hot, and washed off once again, luxuriating in my post-orgasmic languor.

I extracted a new pair of knickers from my cosmetic bag - this time a gauzy red g-string, and dressed again from my neatly-folded pile of clothes.

As I exited the shower room, I scanned the lounge once again; as I suspected, no sign of my dark stranger. A fleeting suspicion that the rest of the lounge might suspect our tryst was discarded upon a second scan of the muzak-atmosphered indifference of the space.

As evidence of my union with the stranger evaporated, I realised that the smaller vibe was still firmly planted in my ass, sending pleasurable aftershocks coursing through me. A half-turn back toward the showers changed direction however.

I had already cleared security, so no need to fret about the logistics. Just one more thing to prolong the pleasure and keep my fear of flying at bay.

Feeling like a secret slut in the best possible of ways, I repacked the remaining items into my carry-on and headed toward my boarding gate.