First, a disclaimer. For those that have read my earlier efforts, this story is decidedly more pornographic and sexual. It still has some of my usual ENF/Wardrobe malfunction, style antics, but if you're averse to anything remotely hardcore, you might want to look at my earlier work. And for those of you who wished my stories got a little more sexually fulfilled, I hope you enjoy this work
RED EYE
Coach... and a red eye no less. That goddamn admin is as good as fired.
Brenda Sharpe wound her way through the sweaty mobs of tourists and yokels to the back of the plane. Her tailored business slacks and satin blouse stuck out among the t-shirts and sweatpants.
37C. At least it was an aisle seat. She wiggled her pilates-sculpted ass into the seat and checked her messages.
Brenda hoped in vain that her row would be empty, but the plane was far to crowded for that.
Sure enough, two young kids - they couldn't be older than 20 - came bounding down the aisle.
He looked fresh off the farm. Broad shoulders, with freckles and a ball cap.
She was a lithe, elfen blonde in tiny cutoffs and a baby tee.
As Brenda slithered out of her seat to let them pass, they boy gave her a discrete look over, but it was the girl that really drank her in. True, Brenda could fill a blouse very nicely, and this one was no exception. Her trim waist and toned hips complete the hourglass silhouette.
The young couple giggled, whispered and kissed throughout the takeoff. They couldn't keep their hands off each other.
When they reached cruising altitude, flight attendants distributed blankets and pillows, and then dimmed the cabin lights.
The lovers retreated under their own blanket. Brenda opted for one as well; those four glasses of wine she packed away at the airport bar were making her drowsy.
She put her seat back and snuggled up... the cabin was still and quiet. Except for the lovers going at it next to her.
What were they up to? Busy hands... the moist click of kisses. The rustle of fabric. A breathless moan and whimper...
Brenda peeked over at them. She could see the girl, her back facing Brenda. In fact, Brenda could see almost all of her back peeking from a gap in their blanket.
Bare naked!
Her tiny t-shirt was bumped up into her armpits, and she arched her back in pleasure.
He's sucking on her tits! Right her next to me! Unbelievable!
The girl shifted her hips, just a little. Brenda could see the girls ass clench and gyrate rhythmically...
Is her fingering her? Was that a wet squish I just heard? I think I can smell her pussy!
Brenda was scandalized. She wanted to be angry, but she found herself getting aroused instead. She pulled her blanket up to her chin and let her fingers wander over her blouse, brushing lighting over her nipples. Her nipples hardened in response.
Brenda could just make out the slippery sounds. She imagined the young man's strong but nervous fingers exploring the soft folds of her tight little pussy, soaking her panties, her tiny shorts, even the airline seat.
Brenda's own tight little pussy was feeling neglected. She clenched her thighs and felt juice squeeze from her lips like an overripe fruit.
Her fingers found their way to the crotch of her designer slacks, tracing the seam with her fingernail. She toyed with the idea of unzipping her slacks so she could get a hand inside... but the zipper was in the back.
Dammit!
What the hell am I doing? Trying to finger fuck myself next to a couple of horny teenagers? In coach no less?
Sure, she had masturbated on planes lots of times. Usually in the bathroom. Once or twice on an empty red eye. In first class. Not packed in with yokels and college kids.
Brenda threw the blanket off, unbuckled her seatbelt and made a beeline for the bathroom. She'd jill herself silly, and with any lucky, her horny neighbors would be finished and fast asleep.
She locked the door, unzipped her slacks and brusquely shucked them down to her ankles. Leaning back on the toilet, Brenda fingered her eager pussy through her panties. Thong panties, with lace trim. She loved to fuck herself through her panties, the lace teasing and rubbing her swollen vulva.
Brenda was a sopping mess. She drew the wetness up her panties like a wick, tracing out her excited clit. Her free hand unbuttoned her blouse and slipped inside her bra, squeezing her tender breast and nipple.
She imagined that farm boy playing with her tits. Big, calloused hands. Clumsy but eager to please, exploring her ample D cups.
This is what a woman feels like. Not some waifish girl.
What would his cock look like?
Some stiff corn-fed beast waiting to burst from his jeans.
What would it taste like?
A loud knock at the door.
"Occupied, goddammit!" Brenda snapped. It was too late. She lost it. Just like that, a beautiful orgasm evaporated. She could try and reclaim it, but who knows who could be listening outside that door.
Brenda dried off her panties as best she could, redressed and recomposed herself. Her nipples were still at full attention, jutting out lewdly from her blouse. Much like her sexual frustration, there was not much she could do about that right now.
She opened the door. Her rude intruder was nowhere to be scene. Perhaps in the other lavatory.
It seemed the entire plane was fast asleep. Even the flight attendants were nowhere to be seen. As she walked back to her row, she only saw the guy's head - where was the girl?
When she got to her seat, Brenda realized immediately where the girl was -
under the blanket.
A form that must have been her head bobbed slowly over the boy's crotch. She's sucking him off!
Brenda just stared a moment from the aisle, completely dumbstruck. She had the momentary urge to grab the blanket and yank it away. To reveal this sleazy little slut with a cock in her mouth to the entire plane... and to herself.
She checked that compulsion, and quietly slid into her seat. She drew her blanket up to her chin and leaned her seat back. Feigning sleep, she listened...
Beyond the white noise of the engines, she could hear it; the faint swish of saliva. The occasional slurp. The glistening crackle of wet lips and tongue.
Fuck, I can't take this anymore!
Brenda's aching pussy was begging for attention. If these two little perverts could get away with blowjobs on a crowded flight, surely she could...
Brenda reached back a slowly drew down the zipper of her slacks. As coyly as possible, she tugged them over her hips and down her thighs.
The upholstery felt cold and rough against her naked ass. The exposed, vulnerable sensation was making her even wetter, as if the sound of young mouth sex mere inches away wasn't enough.
Brenda's fingers once again found her electrified pussy. She took her time, letting her fingers wander idly up and down the sopping slit. She tugged on her panties, pressing the lace into her yearning clit. Juices freely flowed down her ass crack and thighs.
The girl sat up. Brenda froze, still pretending to sleep.
Whispers... movement. The girl shuffled in her seat.
Then, the abrupt sound of ripping fabric! A gasp and a giggle. What was happening? Brenda didn't dare open her eyes. It was quiet. She strained to hear anything... the girl's breathing. Steady, excited and close. She was facing Brenda.
They were spooning... no. Not spooning.
Fucking!
He ripped her shorts open, and now he was fucking her from behind.
Brenda could hear the wet sliding of his cock in and out of her pussy, ever so slowly. He was fucking her as slow as possible, to not arouse suspicion. But it was arousing Brenda.
Steady and patient. In...
schlick