Smile High

This is my first story on Literotica. Do you like it?

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Clare was ready for a big nap. Even with the stopover the flight, as always, had taken its toll and she was tired, hot and drained. When the door to her hotel rattled open, though it was morning, she made straight for the shower then crashed on the bed without even taking a moment to look around.

Time enough for that later, she thought.

As a mother in her mid thirties, Clare had kept herself in incredible shape. Her long dark voluminous hair formed a dramatic backdrop for her beautiful regular features, sparkling brown eyes and infectious smile. Her athletic figure, shapely legs, toned waist and firm breasts made clear she exercised regularly and watched what she ate. Even the flowing summer skirt and baggy T shirt she had selected for travel clung to her lithe body in a way that turned heads. Clare had the confidence and experience to know she could have any man she wanted. But what she really craved was to be respected for who she was. When you looked like Clare, that kind of respect was hard to detect amongst the hot glances that followed her wherever she went.

Truth be told, she thought as she lay sleepily on the bed in the darkened room, it was an incredible flight. She might feel exhausted now, but she was calm and satisfied. She was travelling for the first time with the love of her life, her equal, the first to see the real Clare. Travelling with Finlay was a deep pleasure that made even the trial of a plane flight the experience of a lifetime.

Finlay was a little older than Clare, well into his forties. But his energy, humour and experience meant she considered him the sexiest man she had ever met. His wavy brown hair had a distinctive dash of silver at his temple. The animated lines on his face all made sense when he smiled because of the way his expression fell into those well worn creases. His firm, strong hands gave her a charge every time she looked at them, because of the memories they invoked about the ways he knew her body, and the confidence with which he could use them to draw out her wildest longings. She knew how much he valued her for all that she was - as a mother, intellectually, creatively, professionally, romantically, sexually. Clare could feel his hot gaze following her whenever he was in her presence, but it wasn't like that of other men. Finlay understood her from the inside out.

The flight had once again demonstrated to Clare just how completely compatible they were. Everything was easy with Finlay. And even though she always found travel intrinsically hard, he had nonetheless found ways to make the time race, to arouse passions in her she had never felt ten thousand metres above the ground.

It had all begun soon after the plane levelled out after takeoff. Unusually, the flight was only half full and they had three economy seats to themselves at the back right hand side of their section, affording them both a little room and a modicum of privacy. Finlay suggested they go straight to sleep and get as much shuteye as they could on the long leg. He took out her blue face mask to block the light, and put it tenderly over her eyes. As he lay with his head against the window, Clare could lounge across the row of seats, snuggled against his chest. Her belt was loosely fastened over her skirt and she quickly relaxed into a deep sleep.

When she roused some hours later, she slipped her face mask up to find the cabin darkened for the quiet part of the flight. Finlay was breathing slowly with his right arm around her side, under her armpit and across her chest. His left arm was snuggled peacefully around her waist, his hand in her lap. The flight attendant had taken a blanket and draped it over the two of them. Across the aisle and in the row ahead she could see the passengers were asleep. The flight attendants were back in their section. All was still.

She became aware that Finlay's right hand was moving. It was the subtlest movement, it could be that his hand had been moving this way for some time. His fingers were slowly, tracing a pattern on her stomach, through her shirt. She noticed his left hand, while lying completely still face up in her lap under the blanket, was weighing down gently on her crotch. When she wiggled a little, Clare could feel her body beginning to respond to that light but firm pressure.

Clare could tell Finlay was asleep, but his fingers kept subconsciously brushing her toned stomach. Slowly so as not to disturb him, she crept up her shirt so his fingers wandered directly across her skin. The sensation was exquisite, every nerve ending in her stomach firing wildly as his rough fingers dragged lightly from one side to the other, driving a new warmth into her crotch as she lay in his arms.

She could feel the effect the sensation of her bare stomach was having on Finlay as she noticed him beginning to stir, pressed against her lower back. Clare took her right hand and began to trace a pattern of her own with her fingers on his calf and soon after she felt the pressure on her lower back increase.

Clare wondered how much she could rouse Finlay to passion without waking him and she determined she would find out. With her other hand, she began to stroke his right palm, which was face up in her lap. Soon, responding to this stimulation coupled with the hardening erection she felt against her back, he turned his hand palm down on her crotch. She opened her legs just a little, to encourage his subconscious to explore further.

Now, both his hands were moving slowly against her body. His right hand gently traced the bare skin of her stomach while his left squeezed rhythmically between her legs through the fabric of her skirt and panties. She began almost imperceptibly pulsing her body in time with his movements, pushing her back gently up against his hardening erection. Even though the cabin of the plane was quiet and still, nothing could be seen above the blanket that covered their bodies. The low drone of the plane's engines covered the soft sighs that began coming from Finlay's still sleeping lips.

The rhythmic pressure of Finlay's hand was starting to make Clare wet and hot. She parted her legs a little more and inched the fabric of her skirt aside so his hand rested directly on her silky underwear. The familiarity of her body under his hands was evident as his left hand began to gently trace up and down the lips of her sex through her panties. Meanwhile, his right hand began to sweep more firmly across her stomach and, almost imperceptibly, his hips began to rock.

The sensations Clare was experiencing were so intense she was finding it hard to control her anticipation and remain content with the incremental progression of Finlay's subconscious strokes. Each time his hand glided over her stomach, she felt a tingling of electricity run up and down her spine. Each time his fingers traced up the contours of her sex she longed to let out a deep groan. Instead, she moved her hips up and, impatiently but gradually, she pulled down her underwear and let it drop to the floor under the seats. Now there was nothing between Finlay's hand and the centre of her pleasure, which lay exposed under the blanket in the darkness of the cabin.

With that new freedom, Finlay let out a deep sigh. She was wet and hot, so his fingers slipped easily to explore her. His right hand moved in broader strokes, sometimes to squeeze her hip, sometimes to glide over her bra and the stiffening breasts it contained. Each stroke sent a wave of pleasure through Clare's body such that she arched her back to grind against Finlay as he firmed. His body was beginning to move more forcefully to the same rhythm, pulsating gently in the darkness, underneath the blanket.

Just then the curtain to the cabin crew's area twitched aside and a hostess walked calmly down the aisle to see that all was well. While under the blanket, Clare was experiencing a deep and sustained pleasure, for all any observer might see, there was just a loving couple lying asleep snuggled together. The hostess quickly returned up the other aisle. Having observed that all was in order, she settled back to her own repose and left Clare and Finlay to theirs.

Clare could sense she was on her way to climax now. The combined impact of Finlay's hands was sending her senses into overdrive, with one roving across her breasts and side, while the other now enveloped her. The driving pressure on her back made clear he was deeply aroused and this added to Clare's excitement. But the subconscious pleasuring he was providing was not enough to take her over the edge. She needed Finlay to wake up and give her his full attention.

As stillness returned to the cabin, Clare managed to reach around behind her back to where Finlay was grinding against her through their clothes. She carefully unbuckled his belt and drew his fly down. He sprang out, wet and hot, and as she settled back into his embrace she lifted the rear section of her skirt so he lay directly against her back, nestled into the channel of her spine. This time, Finlay let out an even deeper shuddering gasp as he moved with her. The extra sensation was enough: Finlay began drifting back to wakefulness.

Clare's whole body now felt like a molten ball of passion. The combined sensation of his hands on her body and the grind against her back was bringing her to a new peak. She could feel her wetness under the blanket down between her legs as his hand explored her. She could smell his hot sex, an aroma that connected directly with some deep, primitive part of her brain. She could no longer control her own movements but lay passively in Finlay's hands, open to everything he might choose to do.

Now Finlay was awake. He quickly understood the situation and was clearly determined to make the most of the opportunity before them. His right hand roved more broadly now but with the lightest pressure, barely touching Clare as it fluttered across her stomach. But now he went further. He snaked it around to glide across her back and deftly unfastened her bra, giving him full play across her stomach, breasts, hip and back. Sometimes he brought his right hand up to run it through her hair, passionately but gently massaging her scalp and tussling her long black mane. He bent down and began kissing her hair, her ears, breathing on her neck.

However, Finlay's left hand was the real centre of attention for both of them. While his unconscious movements had brought Clare to a level of pleasure she had thought could not get more intense, now there was a focus and rhythm to his ministrations that was even more acute. His fingers traced the contours of her, lightly stroked her, then gently entered her. Her body and legs began to shudder uncontrollably, spasming in response to the pleasure, building to a new crisis. Finlay was pushing her to the brink and each cycle of his hand forced her to let out a deep, guttural groan. Her groans were muffled under the blanket and the low growl of the plane engine, but she could tell from the change in Finlay's cadence with his hands that he could hear them, and they had a primordial, animal effect on him.

Now Finlay reached down with his right hand past the waist of her skirt to her ass, bare under the cover of the blanket. His hand glided over her buttocks, at times feather light, at times firmly kneading her to reinforce the pleasure she was receiving from his left hand. It was like Clare's whole body had begun to short circuit, with rippling waves of random nerves firing in her hands, arms, hips, legs. Then his right hand would rove up under her shirt, kneading her stomach and grasping at her breasts. It roved up to her neck and face, feeling her expressions of pleasure with his fingers in the dark. Clare had lost control of her movements and could no longer stifle her groans as her inner thighs, wet from Findlay's attention, pushed forcefully into his left hand.

It was evident Finlay was struggling hard to stay quiet and slow. Each stroke intensified Clare's involuntary shudders as her muscles strained to maintain the deep, grinding rhythm. Her eyes rolled back as she became tunnelled into the moment, without consciousness or thought beyond the pleasure in her body and the melding of their minds. She felt as if every physical and mental part of him surrounded her, that she was one with him. They were transformed in an infinite moment. One. Eternal. There was no higher place. There was no greater pleasure. Her body screamed and shuddered as waving rolls of pleasure spasmed through her body for what might have been a moment, or an hour, or all existence. Time stopped.

Then the moment passed. Clare noticed her surroundings again. She fell back into Finlay's embrace as she felt his fingers once again gently tracing on her skin. She knew he had not reached the heights that she had, but was content to hold her, stroke her and be happy with her. Finlay carefully restored the integrity of the blanket's cover while maintaining the freedom beneath it. He lovingly stroked her that way, until she drifted back to sleep in his arms once again.

Much later she woke as the cabin lights came up and preparations for landing began. Clare felt exhilarated. Spent. Calm. Contented. But she was nonetheless tired, hot and drained. As always, the flight had taken its toll but with Finlay, it was a trial she couldn't wait to undertake again.

As she flopped down on her hotel bed, Clare wondered sleepily what other surprises the next few days would bring.