The plans had been finalized about two months ago and we were all looking forward to a nice visit. Since we'd never actually met before. Having been flickr friends for years and exchanging emails on a regular basis we started calling overseas to each other.
John had appreciated the new friend who shared his interest in photography. We'd both learned so much from each other. When the opportunity to visit the two of you in your native country came up all three of us jumped at the chance.
John seemed so excited the he was finally meeting someone that shared an interest and a lust for his wife. He was making site seeing plans and even setup a couple of modeling sessions just so we could teach each other some new things.
Finally the big day came and I arrived. I was tired, well actually exhausted would be more like it. Both of you were waiting at the airport to pick me up and take me to my hotel.
Customs was hellish only because of my camera equipment. I suppose the custom agents where just doing their jobs. Nonetheless, it was pretty much the last nerve I'd have left.
The flight with all of its complications, the length of time in airports and now this, hadn't circumstances conspired enough against me?
Finally having passed customs we met for the very first time. John gave me a good strong handshake and took some of my luggage. You gave me a warm hug and welcomed me to your part of the world. Both of you seemed so eager to see me that I couldn't help feeling better despite my exhaustion.
We headed towards your auto while we chatted about small things. None of you asked about the flight. You already new we had averted disaster and now was not the time to haunt my memories. Gratefully we loaded everything into the trunk of your car and jumped in.
We drove in silence for a few kilometers when you finally asked me if I was OK after what happened. I simply shrugged my shoulders and laid my head back closing my eyes.
You understood my solitude had nothing to do with you and watched me drift off to sleep.
"Honey, I'm worried about him. He looks so... rung out." John checked the rear view mirror and assured you that I would be OK -- eventually. You watched me for a while as John slowed his driving down a bit. He also was worried and didn't want me to be disturbed on the drive to the hotel. He even took some side roads that would make the trip take longer so I could get some sleep and perhaps shake off the experience of the flight...
You held John's hand and told him how you loved him. His sensitivity to my situation brought out your deep feelings for him. You've always loved his sensitive side and his ability to see and understand what others were going through.
The country drive was beautiful; the sun shone and warmed my face. The slight rocking of the vehicle and your quite conversation with John was drawing me back to reality.
"This is such a beautiful day. Thank you for being so sensitive to Kevin." John steals a glance at you and quietly adds that the flight must have been a horror to live through.
You look back to make sure I'm still sleeping and satisfied you agree with him. "I can't imagine what it would have been like"
My memories are starting to fill with the recollection of what happened. I'm sure the media will find out all the details but for now the horror is being replaced with the reality of what happened.
To say that we were frightened would have been a gross understatement. A lone terrorist yelling he had a bomb and would blow the plain out of the sky tends to make anyone scarred -- fast.
But that's all the public new about at this point. They didn't know about the demands and head games he played with the passengers. I feel so guilty I try to shove it out my thoughts but I can't help thinking about it again.
After getting control of the crew and making sure everyone understood that we were his hostages he started his "torment". First he ordered all the flight attendants to strip. They complied. Despite the horror and fear a quick look around and you see a few faces lighting up with pleasure. Canadian Airlines doesn't tend to hire ugly stewardesses and they were all hotties on this flight.
Once they were naked he ordered them to get everyone's clothes from them. The faces went blank pretty damn quick. Some gathered the courage to protest; some because they were embarrassed others had genuine concerns like the children that were present.
His solution was to have all the children moved to the back of the plane with a couple of "fatties" as he called them to remain with them. He warned them about the remote detonator and that even though they couldn't see him he could still blow the hell out of everyone.
He was satisfied that they were under control in the back and so he returned his attention to the remaining passengers. Once again he demanded that everyone strip and that the very beautiful and very naked stewardesses take our clothes from us.
One of the first passengers turned out to be a sky marshal. That was just great. Who the hell thought of putting armed people on a flight that they were trying to keep weapons off of?
As he watched over the stewardesses he took anything of interest that he wanted. Especially when it was a gun. Now fully armed, fully dressed and having humiliated everyone by having them undress he started his head games.
Taking the sky marshal he threatened to kill him if someone didn't come up and give him (the marshal) a blowjob.
One of the stewardesses quickly came forward and "volunteered".
Kneeling before the marshal she took his limp cock in her mouth and started sucking on it. The poor man was so ashamed; he didn't know what to do. He looked up, down, from side to side and just couldn't figure out where he should be looking.
It's not every day after all that you have a gun pointed at your head and a gorgeous red head sucking on your cock. He couldn't think very clearly anymore, the fear of dieing, the horror of being on display like this, the guilt of starting to enjoy it... it was too much and he couldn't control it anymore.
His cock started to rise...
John hit a small pothole in the road and you looked back to check on me. Squeezing hubby's hand you assure him that I'm still asleep. You notice me starting to stir and let your gaze lounge on me for a bit longer.
Your brows begin to get creased as you notice my crotch. You blink a little and think that perhaps you're witnessing the beginning of a wet dream.
Squeezing John's hand even harder you quietly tell him that I'm getting a hard-on in the back of the car.
John tries to see through the rear view mirror but can't see anything other then my face. Which to him doesn't look like I'm enjoying anything and he says so to you. You start to protest but decide that perhaps it's just the motions of the vehicle, the tiny vibrations that we become accustomed to and try not to stare at me.
