An announcement from the cockpit that the plane was about to land forced Misty out of her daydream. She had been fantasizing and gently stroking herself for the entire flight, stopping only to nibble at her food, and enjoy the freely flowing wine provided by the flight attendants.
Given that ordinarily she was so reserved around other people about anything remotely having to do with sex, seeming to be just about as prudish as a Victorian schoolmarm if she was honest with herself, Misty was genuinely surprised by her own behavior. She'd never even used the word masturbation when talking with another person, until she met Valentina that is, yet here she was masturbating under a blanket, on an airplane full of passengers.
She'd even brought herself to orgasm, only once, and as silently as possible, but it was an extremely powerful orgasm nevertheless. She assumed that it was so powerful because in addition to enjoying an extremely hot, if extremely depraved, fantasy, the taboo of cumming on the plane, when others were so very close, added to her enjoyment and its intensity.
Her fantasy was about being used, coldly, clinically, efficiently, her body filled, by a servant, at the direction of her absent owner, but in full view of her family. Her every desire was for her own corruption and degradation. In the deepest and darkest recesses of herself she desired that corruption, that degradation to be placed in view, to be shown. Misty dreamed that she was defiled in front of those closest to her, and in that way, for the first time in her life, she could truly be known.
Misty knew that most people, normal people to her way of thinking, would find such exposure to be beyond what they could accept or live with. Misty didn't see it that way though. If she ever found someone to serve, she knew that she would be extraordinarily proud of her service. She would not try to hide it, rather she would celebrate it, and she would hope that others could understand it in some way, and find peace in knowing that she was happy.
She had explained all of this to Valentina, but she doubted that the other woman would ever use her in such ways. Surely she believed, her fantasies, at their most extreme, were just too far for anyone, including the woman she was traveling to see. In her darkest moments Misty often even wondered if her desires were too far even for herself. She sometimes questioned her own sanity, especially when she was feeling down.
No one was sitting in the seat next to Misty on the plane, but there was an older couple just across the aisle. Misty wondered if they had noticed her playing with herself on the flight, if they had seen her cum? If the flight attendant had? She wondered if the seat under her was soaked and assumed that it was. She wondered if the flight attendant could smell her lust, her wet pussy? If the other passengers could?
Her wondering was soon over as the plane landed and taxied to the gate. She was soon off of it and in a country that she had never visited before. Quickly she made her way through customs and immigration, then out of the terminal where she saw a man holding a sign with her name upon it. She followed him to his car, and within minutes they were off to her hotel in Puerto Vallarta.