Nieces Worldwide - Atlantic

Sylvie re-racked the spent meal trays in the mess of the First-Class cabin area. Stacy came in with the last of the collections. She was less than gentle when setting down the plasticware. Sylvie saw the perturbed look on her crewmate's face.

"Well, there, girlfriend... something wrong?"

Stacy cocked a pose, one hand on a hip.

"That guy in 6B. When I leaned over him to get the tray from 6A, he pinched my boob."

Sylvie looked at her friend and smirked.

OK... so... something wrong?"

Stacy broke her false sulk and giggled.

"Yeah, he IS kind of cute. I was hoping to chat him up later and maybe hook up after the flight. Now it will seem like I'm a cock chasing slut, cute as he may be."

Sylvie kept to her mantra, modified a little to keep her friend's spirits alive.

"And... something wrong with that? Because you ARE a cock chasing... something."

Stacy glanced at her buxom blonde friend and copped a toothy smile at the reality of her situation.

Sylvie seemed satisfied with her singular existence. She never seemed to pay more than professional attention to the passengers. And she only worked six-weeks at a stretch, taking a month off in between her extended shifts.

Stacy on the other hand was perpetually broke, horny and lonely; no kids and her bum ex-husband had run off with an intern at his work. What was Sylvie hiding?

"Sylvie, how come you never flirt with the cute ones? Aren't you interested in a little side nooky?"

"It's against company rules and besides, I found a side gig that takes care of the 'side nooky'."

"Really? Come on, girlfriend, share."

Sylvie paused to contemplate. Stacy was a knockout brunette: curvy, fit and always willing to try out a new cock or two.

"Let me get back to you. I have to check whether the special charter airline is taking on more comfort hostesses at this time. But the money, and moreover, the other enticements, are worth the wait."

"You're the best, Sylvie; I can't wait... So, what does a 'comfort hostess' do?"

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Bob had the fortune of another TWA charter flight and this time, he was surprised and pleased to see Sylvie was again aboard as his comfort hostess. And she was accompanied by another bodacious babe in the same company furnished uniform. The brunette seemed a bit self-conscious by the topless nature of her outfit, but she looked game to play her part as long as Sylvie was along to safely guide her through it.

Sylvie had briefed her coworker friend on the nature of services they were obliged to provide. No holds barred for consensual activities. She would be safe from harm. TWA vetted all crew and clients.

The dedicated comfort hostesses teamed up to keep Bob comfortable throughout the stratospheric ride. Sylvie led off with a blowjob and when Bob refracted, Stacy was inspired to get in on the action. When she reached across his lap to collect an empty wine glass, her dangling boob fell at a ready pose for Bob to pinch her bare nipple. She gave a quick yip and, with her mouth still open, her blue eyes looked directly into Bob's smirking face. If this was a commercial flight, she would have admonished her groper.

But here on a 'comfort' flight, rather than flinch away from the sting, she held her pose and captured his lips in a hard kiss of acquiescence to his flippant fondle. Still lip locked, she sightlessly handed the used goblet to Sylvie and sidled a leg over her passenger's bare hips. Her Velcro clipped uniform thong was easily dispensed with and, with her hands on his shoulders, she rubbed her too often neglected plump pussy along his stiffening rod. Bob upped his handling of her boobs, more little nipple pinches and full cuddle kneading of the playful masses. His tongue and lips tickled the stiffened nubs.

They squirmed around until Stacy's pussy dewdrops slicked his erection. She skillfully found the position she needed, captured his knob against her nether lips and pushed down on the big manly shaft. A wiggle at the bottom completed her plunge and he watched her inner labia slowly draw up his shaft, dragging his corona against her inner flesh. At the top, she returned her lips to kiss his and drove his cock inside again, moaning into his occupied mouth the decadent sensation of the genital slide.

She deeply rode Bob's lap in seated cowgirl, while he kissed and pinched her big pink nipples. She found him a capable lover and was thrilled when he gained his peak. His discharge was the first male warmth she had felt in months and it was emotionally wonderful and physically fulfilling.

She and Sylvie took care of Bob twice more during the 12-hour flight. Stacy enjoyed a couple orgasms during her second stint of providing Bob exceptional sky-high service before capturing his spunk in her feminine grotto.

Stacy was hooked and hoped to get into an alternating rotation of shifts that provided air hostess commercial services to satisfy the bills and stimulating comfort hostess special services to satisfy her libido.

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Bob's flight touched down in Ireland. He was guided off the plane and through passport control and customs by his stewardesses, who had modified their uniforms slightly with tight stretchy tee-shirts to nominally meet public morality standards. The border control officials studied the buxom pairs' pokies much more than Bob's passport.

The ladies handed him off to a chauffeured towncar, kissing each cheek cheerily and whispering that they would be back in a week, waiting here for his return flight. With a bounce in his step, Bob got into his ground transportation and was driven to his ultimate destination.

The TWA campus was nestled in the green rolling hills of the legendary island, tucked away from prying eyes and meddling busybodies. It was the spring equinox and the annual festival was in full swing. Spirits were running high as the sun brought warmer days and the traditional outdoor nudity and free-range sex.

He alighted the vehicle and the driver pointed him to the rear of the main building by a side pathway. Bob emerged on a broad green expanse behind the old ivy-covered stone château.

There was a Maypole dance in progress at the broad grassy field beyond the main mansion house. Bob watched from a distance as the spritely girls danced around the thick phallus-fashioned tree trunk, their tight little bouncy asses brushed by long red hair. Firm modest boobs jiggled as they cavorted in counter circles, weaving the green and yellow ribbons around the erection shaped axis. He could only imagine their naughty thoughts as they decorated their cock effigy. He hoped his human-sized appendage could overcome the fantasies engendered in the giant wooden erection.

He heard footsteps coming up behind him and turned to see the source. The middle-aged matron stepped next to him where he had been watching the fertility ceremony from afar.

"Hello, Uncle Bob, I'm Mrs. Rhiannon, the campus housemother. As much as, or even more than, me, the girls have been anxiously awaiting your arrival. They have been nervous chatterboxes all week, knowing we are hosting the newest TWA Couch Tutor candidate. They consider it an honor and are excited by the prospect."

He watched the circle of naked coeds, asses aloft in a close circle as they leaned over to wind the final twists of colored ribbons around the base of the pole. Mrs. Rhiannon saw his focused stare and spoke in an idle tone, almost talking aloud to herself.

"It's a wonder how these spritely nymphs managed to keep their innocence amongst the rowdy boys in their small villages."

Bob saw the group finish their pole wrapping task and stand upright again. He chuckled at the word 'innocence' considering the troupe was dancing naked in the spring sunshine, awaiting a strange man's visit.

"They don't look so innocent to me."

"Oh, but they are. We plucked them from their humble households before they could be broken. Many are still virgins, vaginally anyway. Their mouths have probably been cock-probed but not their pussies."

Bob's eyebrow lifted in a surprised expression. He watched the frolicking redheads with heightened interest. The Housemother clapped her hands and the distant coeds looked her way. They saw the gentleman standing with the matron and ran uphill towards her, and better, the mysterious man at her side. The jogging bounced their long hair and varied-sized boobs as they ran barefoot up the grassy pitch.

They slowed to a jumbled huddle before settling into a lineup of nubile redhead nymphs. Bob noticed some had Irish spring flowers woven into their hair; he recognized sea asters, campions, red clovers, and snowdrops. The lassies stood steady; hands clasped in front respectfully, regrettably half concealing their red tufted rosy pussies.

Mrs. Rhiannon shushed them to attention and turned to their male visitor.

"Uncle Bob, as the only man on campus this week, and considering the equinox, you are obliged to designate this year's annual Spring Goddess, a special honor for her, and a special task for you."

Bob didn't hesitate. His previous tours around the world had acclimated him to meeting those special tasks, and more. He strolled the line, squeezing a supple boob or patting a firm ass, eliciting ticklish giggles, as he traversed the feminine forum.

In the end, he picked Rylee, the one with the relatively largest tits, even though they were still just medium conical masses.

The housemother noted his choice and dismissed the lineup; they trotted back to their dorm. She and Bob had a singular dinner that evening as she apprised him of his weeklong duties. Bob heard the scheduled agenda and agreed to do whatever he could to learn the best ways to coach TWA coeds towards a prosperous post-graduation life.

With dinner concluded, Mrs. Rhiannon sent her guest to his residence suite for rest after his long journey. Unaccompanied to his accommodations, he settled in for the night. He found a book of illustrated poems, mostly ribald tales, and reconciled himself to masturbating before sleeping alone. But then he heard a knock on his door. He toddled naked to the entry and opened it to find a thin small breasted redhead.

"Good evening, sir, I'm Ravena. I have been sent by the Housemother to keep you company on your first night with us. May I enter?"

Mrs. Rhiannon had made the arrangements for his comfort and had selected a coed other than the Spring Goddess to be honored as his first Emerald Ilse hostess. Bob stepped aside and ushered her into the room. She climbed on the bed and sat on her folded legs, facing him. The lotus-like pose opened her cherry-toned pussy to his view. Duly invited, Bob joined her and she proved herself to be the most adorable little fuck.

As suspected, her lips were no stranger to cock sucking and after she deepthroated his ready erection, he lay her out in missionary and pressed his cock home, amused by her extreme tightness.

He slid home without blockage; she was not a virgin but might have almost been; her pussy had probably only been used a few times before. When he probed his large member deep, his ears heard her small cries of discomfort. Pausing, he saw her tear-filled eyes and that swelled his cock even larger, boosted by the pride of being one of the few who had filled the underused small cavity with a mighty manhood.

With inspired energy, he set to work, using her snug wet cunt to stroke out his spend, closely hugging her lithe nakedness, her stiff pokies tickling his chest. His cock spewed its pearly emission to his intense satisfaction. It was a great first fuck and the second and third follow-on couplings made it a great first night.

Bob discovered that his weeklong sojourn would include some trials not necessarily resolved in bed. The next day, he was playfully challenged to seek out his next mate: wending his way through a corn stalk and haybale maze by following the soft chant of a traditional Gaelic fertility song.

The girls together led him to the entrance of the labyrinth. They called out to their coed friend that it was time to start and wished her well in the game's finale.

Rowan sang from her labyrinth-ending location as Bob tried to follow her angelic voice. As his verve heightened, he frustratingly retraced several dead ends, growing more impatient and irritably aroused with each failure. Eventually, he figured out the winning path to his redhead soloist and hurried to close the intervening distance. He finally spied her at the end of a narrow passage and smiled widely as he quickstepped to his prize. The little redhead virgin leaned on a pile of straw stacked on a grassy mat. Her voice trailed off as she saw the excited man hustling towards her.

He was libido charged and ready but the naked young coed seemed somewhat hesitant at her life-changing event. He undressed as she lay nude, watching him from a few feet away, acclimating to the sight, sounds and smells of her first penetrating man. He gracefully hand and knee crawled to her.

Rowan lay back and opened her arms and legs, assuming the sacrificial maiden pose that her friends had advised was most enticing to the man and most comfortable for her during her deflowering. Ben crawled above her, slowed his apparent urgency, leaned in, and kissed her lips. She reflected his gentle gesture.

Holding his lips to hers, he settled his hips into her open thighs, his cock tip touching her outer labia. She wiggled and squirmed with last-minute misgiving. Bob was in no mood for indecision; he was too far gone for genital penetration hesitation.

Uncle Bob laid over her body, pressing ahead, his cock tip parting her pussy lips. His arms hugged her body in a close controlling embrace. She trembled in his arms as he pushed, overcoming her reluctance with manly force, and her continued mild struggles nearly drove him mad with lust. He thrust his solid penile muscle into her dread soddened cunt, breaking her virginal barrier with ease.

He triumphantly commenced, continued, and concluded fucking his maze contest conquest at this isolated end of the labyrinth. She cooperated as much as she knew how but otherwise simply let her first man use her body to his pleasure after instigating the initial woman-transforming act.

Rowan was resigned to, actually relieved about, her new status. She cuddled and fondled her first real sex mate afterward until a dying sun and cooling air spurred them back to the main campus residence.

As the week continued, so did Uncle Bob's services to his covey of nieces. He was busy every day and night showing them how a male cock could give and receive mutual sexual pleasure. His duties revolved around a series of singular and group rendezvouses. By Friday, he was overdosing on redhead pussy.

Ms. Rhiannon knew her man's limitations and decided the schedule needed to wind down to its natural conclusion in keeping with Bob's middle-aged potency. Bob had been a very accommodating Guest Coach Tutor, fulfilling the roster of essential deflowerings as well as tune-ups to the modestly experienced upper-level coeds. He deserved a reward for his dedication. She had withheld that prize until now.

He attended a dinner party that signaled the approaching end of his residence at this remote Irish campus. Good food and good fun abounded, even though the fashionably dressed coeds retained their tops and exhibited only cleavage. Uncle Bob wasn't that dismayed by their feigned modesty. He had fondled and sucked all of the hidden tits and nipples, save one, during the preceding week.

As dessert ended, Ms. Rhiannon gave Uncle Bob the good news. That night, he would be finally paired with his favored selection, the mildly buxom Spring Goddess, Rylee.

The girls watched as Uncle Bob rose and approached his evening's mate. She looked up from her seat, smiling broadly, also happy to finally gain her special time with the special man. She took his helping hand and held on as he led her from the dining room to catcalls and applause from her sister classmates.

They retired to his suite where Uncle Bob gently and smoothly shed her minimal clothes, exposing to his eyes the trophy he had selected on his first arrival on campus. She was everything he remembered.

They were soon laying naked in bed. She caressed and fondled his cock and balls to an immense erection. Bob was fully prepared and raring to go; ready to do the honors for her transforming event. But he was gentlemanly compliant when she boldly moved to take the lead in the sexual conjunction.

She unhurriedly, almost stoically, mounted his prone body. Placing his erection, she pressed down. Bob was rather surprised at the ease with which she self-pierced her pussy onto his sturdy manhood. She leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"This isn't my first trip to the virgin campus. I'm older and here to mentor the young ones and settle their fears."

Rylee used her cock-accustomed pussy to ride him with long deliberate strokes. She was as magical as a fabled leprechaun, albeit a naked redheaded female one, with a pot of pussy that, at the moment, Bob treasured more than a pot of gold. She whimpered her delight when he roared and splattered her core with his blast of sperm.

They cuddled and engaged in pillow talk. Rylee confessed that this was her last stay at the TWA campus. Uncle Bob wondered why aloud. Rylee let him in on her plans.

"I have accepted a proposal to join a Middle Eastern sheik's harem. He visited here and was enchanted by us. He wanted a redhead to contrast with his other local wives, all brunettes. I leave next week."

Uncle Bob mused on a way he could be of further service to the campus, especially Rylee.

"I could stay a few days more. You've been pretty isolated here without male companionship. I think you need a tune-up to get primed for your great adventure. There's no second chance for a first impression. We want the sheik to be thrilled at his good fortune. Right?"

Rylee rolled against him and kissed his cheek.

"Yes, I'd like that... if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you."

"Not at all. I like to help out a lady in need."

Uncle Bob made his call to Ms. Rhiannon, who thought it a wonderful idea. She had hoped that Rylee would be his culminating sexual partner of the week.

Bob's libido was renewed and fired up for its conditioning service mission. He spent the following days and nights with his beauty. It was a near nonstop cacophony of sucking and fucking, in as many poses and positions as Uncle Bob and his sexy tune-up maiden could imagine: doggies, missionaries, cowgirls, 69s, seated, prone, standing, the variations seemed endless. They walked the flower-strewn grounds for breaks but still found hideaways to engage in more sex.

On the morning of his last day, he demanded her panties as his keepsake. She kissed him gratefully for the wonderful, fun-filled, and educational tune-up. And then departed from his suite and his life. He added the souvenir undies to his growing collection of TWA Coach Tutor candidate training mementos.

It was a bitter-sweet farewell to the redhead heaven. There was another lineup for a farewell sendoff. Bob gave each beauty a sweet kiss and ass groping hug, knowing that he had completed his training tours and would be folded into a rotation of TWA campus visits as a vetted and qualified Guest Coach Tutor. He was saddened to depart this remote redhead haven.

But his sorrow was mildly abated with the knowledge that he had two fun-loving stewardesses, a blonde and brunette, waiting to ease his melancholy during the long flight home to America and into his new role as a certified Total Woman Academy Guest Coach Tutor.