Highly Inspired

There I was again, nose deep in a sales report on the New York to DC air shuttle for my

bi-weekly trip to our head office. "Thank God for business class." I thought as I stretched my legs in advance of the hour and a half flight. I was careful, however, not to wrinkle my skirt, since I was expected to go straight to our staff meeting after arrival. I had done this so many times before, that I begun to recognize some of the flight attendants, and gave half a wave to a few of them as they scurried by, readying the cabin for take-off.

My life seemed like an endless blur of meetings and paperwork. Buttoned up in my most conservative of suits, I considered whether I was in danger of losing myself in the sterility and repetition of my corporate existence. I sighed aloud and wondered what had happened to the unpredictable firecracker I used to be.

I glanced sideways at the reckless looking man sitting next to me in expensive sunglasses and a skater tee. What a contrast between the two of us, though he looked to be about the same age as me. He removed his sunglasses and placed them on the tray table along with his cell phone, then smiled at me momentarily, when he caught me stealing a glimpse of his bad boy looks. I immediately returned to my papers.

The flight attendant announced that the weather in DC had taken a turn for the worse, causing us to delay our take off by an hour. A united sigh of disappointment flooded the cabin and I called the office to let them know I'd be late. It seemed everyone was making calls, including my temporary neighbor. When I was finished, I couldn't help but overhear the X-rated things he was saying. I pulled my papers up to my face and smiled privately to myself, assuming he was talking to his girlfriend. I thought it odd, however, that he didn't seem to say goodbye or end the conversation in any recognizable way. He simply finished by saying, "Then, I will lick you clean." and he hung up.

Noticing that I had overheard, he told me not to worry, that he was not a serial obscene phone caller. At least not per say. I looked even more quizzical and he divulged the details of his rather unique career. I learned how he'd discovered that many wealthy women were willing to pay generously for the pleasure of hearing all about the make-believe sex he wanted to share with them. He was, for lack of a better term, a phone whore.

I was intrigued by this and leaned forward to see if he would share anything further, it was fascinating. Turns out that he had been doing it for the past five years, and though it had started out as a fun and easy way to put himself through grad school, lately it had really become a drag. I put down my papers and asked him why. He told me that it had become just like any other job, monotonous and boring. And, it was turning into more and more of a chore to make his daily calls to his more than twenty clients.

I empathized with him and told him about the suffocating feeling I had been experiencing lately in response to the assimilative nature of corporate America. We laughed lightly at the irony of our situations. I looked around and noticed that the passengers across the aisle were all busy with their magazines or dozing off. Impulsively, I leaned in closer to him and asked him if he might like some fresh inspiration. It was his turn to look quizzical, and I placed my hand on his leg to clarify my meaning.

"Why don't you make another one of your calls?" I slyly asked. He seemed to catch on and picked up his phone while searching my face for a clue of what was to come of this. He dialed, and I moved my hand into his crotch. He began to speak, in a gruff whisper, about throwing the legs of the listener around his neck while he slowly stroked her with his fingers and inserted his swollen cock.

He unbuttoned his jeans, allowing me easier access to his thickening rod. He leaned over to share with me, the listener's responses to his explicit descriptions. Soft "mmmms" and the occasional "oh yes", came from the phone. I pictured her touching herself as he spoke, her mind placing him between her legs. These thoughts caused the temperature between my own legs to rise and using my lowered tray as a shield, I placed his hand under my skirt.

He gladly slipped his fingers into my panties and traced around the perimeter of my silky opening, before guiding one inside. This sent a sweet shiver through me and I stifled the moan that danced on my lips. It was then that one of the flight attendants I had come to know came by to offer a pillow and blanket. Our busied hands froze in place and he turned away to keep his raunchy conversation private.

She attempted to make small talk, asking me how I had been and the like. I impatiently answered and hoped that she would move on. Noticing the positioning of our arms, she gave a knowing smirk before resting the blanket and pillow on my tray. "It can get chilly in here, be sure to cover up," she said with a wink and continued down the aisle. I breathed a sigh of relief and retracted my hand from inside his pants.

He had completed his phone call and asked if I thought the flight attendant had detected anything. I put his mind at ease, and like the couple across the aisle from us I snuggled us under the blanket and placed the pillow in his lap. He looked a bit surprised, when I told him that I would like to relax a bit. Then with my eyebrow arched, I asked him again. "Why don't you make another call?"

As if I was curling up with my soul mate, I stretched out over his lap, placing my head on the pillow in a casual and inconspicuous way. His fly was still undone and I freed his sustained erection from the confines of his jeans while he dialed his next client. Before long, my mouth was wrapped around his engorged dick and another grateful customer was lustfully clinging to his every word. Concealed by the blanket, I licked and slurped, careful not to bob my head in any particular rhythm, giving the perception that I was only trying to get comfortable.

I could hear him say that he was enjoying the feel of her, warm and wet, as she bounced on top of him. His words were shaky, as his lips quivered with every pass of my tongue. When he finally leaked into my mouth, it was surprisingly sweet and I found myself swallowing to get rid of the evidence. I raised my self upright again, and excused myself to the bathroom.

Looking in the mirror, I laughed aloud at the sudden jolt in my mundane routine. The erotic encounter had given me just the excitement I needed to rejuvenate my wild side. I straightened my skirt and freshened up a bit. When I returned to my seat, the flight attendant was announcing the seat belt light had been turned on and I was curious to find out how we could make the rest of our flight as interesting as the delay.