I was the advisor of the Model United Nations club at the elite Turkish high school where I was teaching English, and I was the chaperone on our big annual trip to Boston for the prestigious Harvard MUN conference. Some of the top students at our school were among the eight chosen to go, most of them seniors.
For me one student stood out. Her name was Aisha. I had not known her well before the trip, as I had never had her in class. I had known her only through the club, for which the seniors never seemed to have enough time. I knew that she had an American mother and a wealthy Turkish father and was on the science track at our school.
She celebrated her 18th birthday on our last night in Boston. I gave her a sort of present. I arranged for one of the Harvard students on the staff of the conference to put in an appearance at Aisha's little party in her hotel room. Aisha had told me she had a crush on this guy. He was tall, smart, and good-looking, but also not one to take advantage of the situation (I had tipped him off), by virtue of his official position at the conference. Aisha thanked me warmly the next day for arranging the visit. She did not say, "for pimping for me," though I confess that playing that role had given me a little thrill. I don't think she stole out of her room at night to visit her Harvard heartthrob. The halls were patrolled (by women as well as men), and she still had a longing look in the morning.
As it happened, Aisha and I were seated in the same row flying back to Istanbul on Turkish Air. The rest of the group was some distance away from us, but in any case, none of Aisha's close friends had come along. It was December and the plane was far from full. There was an empty seat between us and only an elderly Turkish couple in the middle section of our row. There was a tired-looking middle-aged Turkish businessman sitting behind me, and two women in headscarves in front of us. I had the window seat, Aisha the aisle, on the left hand side of the plane.
She and I chatted a bit about the conference and then we both watched the movie (this was back in the days when there was one movie for each section of the plane). I stole a few glances Aisha's way as the movie ran. She was a big girl, tall and full breasted, with warm Eastern skin and a thick mane of dark brown hair that sometimes fell over her eyes and let me have a good look at her dark red Turkish lips.
After the movie they lowered the lights in the cabin. I figured I might read a little, but Aisha was ready to get some sleep. She raised the arm to the middle seat and asked if I minded if she spread out a little. I did not mind. She turned away from me and tried to get comfortable, which wasn't easy for a girl her size. She placed her back to the seats and drew her legs up as best she could, but in no time her backside was lightly touching my right elbow above my armrest and grazing my thigh below. She just did it nonchalantly. Casual physical contact with others is much more common in the East, and after five days together we weren't strangers, and perhaps she was still feeling grateful to me for services rendered in the name of love the night before. She was wearing sweatpants; she had dressed for comfort. I felt the warmth of her body in contact with mine, just enough for electricity to flow. I began to get an erection.
I let it grow, I fed it by looking down at her big round ass out of the corner of my eye, fixing my angled gaze. I did not dare turn and stare at her. But I did glance over to check on her. Her eyes were closed, her arms and legs folded up in fetal position. But if she suddenly opened those eyes they could have caught me if I was openly staring at her body. My heart began to beat a little irregularly and I was forgetting to breathe. I inhaled and I looked right down at where our bodies were making contact and where her ass curved gently against my thigh. The two places of contact had gotten hotter; even the back of my forearm toward the elbow was feeling the heat.
After a while I overcame my fear of being caught and slowly turned my head, just enough to be able to stare at Aisha. I felt a pounding at the root of my erection, but I didn't dare reach in to free it up to an upright position. I could see the bulge in my pants and the straining and throbbing. My reading light directly illuminated my lap. I kept the area screened by my book, though I could still see what she was doing to me if I raised the cover.
I had to maintain control of myself. Touching her was out of the question. I sat there and suffered, on fire but frozen. Eventually the fever passed and my erection subsided a little. But the swimming in my head wouldn't stop, and I couldn't look away for long.
Aisha moved. With half-open eyes she changed position, or at least tried to, but there simply wasn't room for her to stretch out.
I ventured a suggestion.
"Here, let take up this arm and you can stretch a little further, I don't mind, I have the window to lean on."
She had already sat up a little, so it was easy to move the arm to my right up even before she could reply. I edged over in my seat toward the window, put out the reading light, and laid my head on a pillow against the wall of the cabin. I didn't close my eyes, though. I watched as she twisted into a more comfortable position flush against me, with my right thigh dividing the cheeks of her ass.
