Kat was relieved when she was finally able to board the plane. Bad weather had delayed the inbound flight from London, so the return trip from Rome was more than three hours behind schedule. It was after midnight. The tired traveler was knackered and looking forward to catching some sleep on the trip home to make the two-and-a-half-hour flight pass more quickly. As she squeezed into her window seat, Kat hoped the aisle seat might remain empty so she could stretch out a little and have some privacy. It appeared she might get her wish when she heard the crew sealing the ramp door, but a few seconds later, an out-of-breath gentleman plopped down next to her.
"Whew, made it in the nick of time! I got to the counter one minute before the deadline. I'm glad I don't have to wait until morning to get out of here."
Kat turned in the man's direction. As she did, he looked at her. She was immediately struck by the intensity of his eyes. Their deep blue color grabbed her attention, but what was more captivating was their powerful aura. Kat was stunned, her gaze freezing in an expression of awe, which her comrade-in-flight immediately picked up on. In turn, she sensed his perception, causing her to look away in embarrassed shyness.
"Well, my name is Michael, I'm glad to meet you. It will be a pleasure sharing the journey with a nice young lady. If you want to talk, that will be great, or since it is late, if you want to sleep I'll be ultra quiet and still so you can get some rest."
"Thank you very much, sir. I appreciate your offer."
Kat looked at him just as the lights dimmed for takeoff. He was older, maybe late sixties, good-looking, well-dressed, with an air of success. She thought he was very attractive. Kat had always preferred older men, feeling more secure and appreciated in their presence. As a single woman, she had dated a few men up to twenty years older but had always kept hidden the fact that at 36, she was often turned on by men twice her age. The younger woman felt a little twisted holding such secret desires, but she still liked to fantasize about them. Michael was an ideal candidate, with his gorgeous blue eyes, silver hair, and sophisticated manner. As she checked him out, Kat had quick mental flashes of having sex with him, a frequent occurrence with men she met. It gave her a fleeting pleasure that she could revisit at a later time if she chose to do so.
A few minutes later, the jet was in the air. The lights stayed off as there was a sense that everyone was tired due to the delay. Michael was writing notes on a stack of typewritten pages while Kat fell into a dreamy sleep. The motion of the plane jostled her around a bit. At one point, she reached out to grab the left arm of the seat, but Michael's hand was already there. The unexpected touch of warm flesh awakened Kat with a start.
"Oh my god, sir, I'm so sorry! I was asleep and didn't mean to touch you like that."
Michael smiled. "It's ok. No harm done. I tell you what, I relinquish control of the arm. It's all yours, little girl."
The soothing tone in his voice momentarily transfixed Kat in her sleepy state. That is the only way she could rationally explain her response: "Thank you, Daddy." It was like she was talking from a dream.
A few minutes later, Michael placed his hand on top of hers. The surprised girl drew back a few centimeters, enough to be discernable, but then she stopped the regression and slid her hand back forward. This gesture caused the giver's heart rate to jump while she wondered how Michael would interpret this subconsciously generated signal. The subtle answer came when she felt an ever-so-slight increase in the pressure on her hand. The nervous recipient did not know what to do. She was scared, not wanting to pull back but not daring to escalate. She didn't know what, if anything, was going on, so she sat still, waiting, forcing him to make the next move if there were to be one. There was a brief pause, after which Michael rubbed the back of her hand softly. Kat remained motionless, showing no acknowledgment of the raising of the ante, but this, in and of itself, was a sign of acquiescence.
The initiator turned in his seat to look at Kat, who continued to stare straight ahead. He switched hands, reaching across with his left hand to restart the stroking motions. It was a decided step up in the escalation as there was now no doubt that he was consciously probing her boundaries. His prey felt paralyzed; her head jerked slightly several times to the left while her eyes maintained their forward gaze. She took an audible deep breath. She was terrified, yet thrilled; scared shitless but enthralled. It felt risky, dangerous. He was a stranger of whom she knew nothing. But this reality excited her, and the growing excitement kept her in the game, accepting his lead.
Gradually, he slid his fingertips higher up her arm, gliding effortlessly over her skin in a smooth back-and-forth rhythm that revealed a skilled touch. Without turning her head, she strained her eyes to the left in hurried glances to watch the motions. She noticed the wedding band on his finger, producing more dichotomous vibrations in her psyche. She believed in marriage but had slept with a few married men over the years. Guilt had troubled her, but the decadent feel of the act had given her a buzz that she would never forget. It would not stop the play from continuing now.
He lifted his hand, pulling it back toward him. There was a short pause, but with time slowing to a crawl, it seemed much longer than it was. The brief break made Kat realize she wanted more. The same instant this thought hit her brain, Michael reached across to touch her right hand, resting on her thigh. The touch was light and sensual, traveling up her arm. Kat closed her eyes. Her heart was beating faster, the throbbing reverberating in her ears. The tension was building, and there was no effort to resist. The movement progressed until Michael's fingertips passed Kat's neck, grazing her cheek. For the first time, she looked at Michael, their eyes meeting for a fraction of a second before Kat looked away again, her face blushing. As his fingers drifted across the right side of her face, lightly brushing the Celtic braids in her hair, the anxious receiver glanced at Michael several times, her trembling lips straining to produce words. Her play partner placed his index finger on her lips to lovingly let her know there was no need to speak, to just go with the flow.
She showed her understanding by looking directly into Michael's eyes. The result was electrifying. Her spirit soared, joining and melding with his in an intense gaze that bound their desires into one. She was now in all the way, accepting his power to lead her onward to wherever he was taking her. The dynamic became a dominant/submissive agreement that the two strangers in the night both implicitly accepted.
