Turbulence

[A/N: This is a sequel in spirit to one of my other stories, Two Views to a Bus Ride]

The panels on the luggage compartments rattled and the seatbelt sign lit up. I loved turbulence, and I loved these small turboprops that get thrown around like a child's toy. My heart stopped as the plane sank rapidly, but not because I was afraid.

---

The lights flickered and she fell right into my lap.

"There's too much turbulence, I can't get back to my seat. You'll have to hold on!" she said with more enthusiasm than a stewardess should in this position. She pulled my arms around her waist and settled into my lap. Was this actually protocol?

It didn't matter -- the plane was lurching in all directions and I was starting to get nervous. I was more nervous for my wife Sarah. The slightest bump made her airsick. Any of my own nerves were calmed by the gorgeous woman who had fallen into my lap.

She ran her hands over mine, as if she were frightened as well. I started enjoying the feeling of her fingers, her soft caresses a thank you for keeping her safe. I felt a pang of guilt. I should have been comforting my wife, but I was holding this stewardess tight instead. It was a chivalry thing -- I was enjoying keeping such a beauty safe in my arms. Perhaps "getting off on" was a more appropriate term than "enjoying." The feeling of holding her, her fingers reciprocating my touch, her rear in that tight skirt, pressing right into me. Then, that familiar tingling down there. I felt myself grow just a little.

Control yourself! This is a delicate situation. But every bump pushed her right against my crotch. When the plane would take a quick dive, inertia kept her hands in place so that they would position themselves over her chest. Of course, her hands dragged mine along, thrusting the bottoms of her breasts into my palms.

I hoped she didn't notice that I was cupping her tits, even though it was her own damned fault. I also hoped she didn't notice that I was getting harder with every bounce of the plane. Name the '97 Marlins, the elements of the periodic table, anything! No good. I bit my lip and hoped the bastard would obey, but when has that ever happened in any guy's life?

It only got worse. The stewardess bounced harder along with the plane, practically grinding against me now. Her hands went ever higher so that I was nearly full-on groping her with every spike of turbulence, but she kept my hands firmly in her grip. She must feel it, I thought, she's nearly forcing my hands into her chest.

The plane rattled again, giving me another handful of her through her navy jacket and white blouse. Her ass slid up and down my semi-erect member too gracefully, coaxing it to expand further up the length of her rear.

I looked over at Sarah. She stared back with a look on her face that was half exasperation and half imminent airsickness. I turned my head away like a dog that knew it was about to be punished. There was nothing I could do now -- I was nearly fully erect and still going. Well, there was one thing, which was pray that the stewardess was frightened enough to be oblivious or very forgiving. A sexual harassment suit was not the way to kick off our honeymoon.

---

God, these are the flights I live for. I probably would have been fine to go back to the cabin, but no harm in being extra safe, right? Safety first, especially when safety involves sitting in the lap of the best looking guy on the plane. Once the captain made the announcement that the turbulence would not be over anytime soon, I decided to take this thing as far as it would go.

With each shake of the plane, I gave him more. Sometimes, I would grab the headrest of the seat in front of me to give me enough leverage to grind against him harder than a stripper desperate for tips. I was done with letting him brush my chest lightly; now I was crushing his palms into my breasts. My nipples started to poke out. Once, I flicked his thumbs against them, then I curled his fingers so they enclosed my flesh, letting his hands rest there for far too long. I let out a titter of fake embarrassment and pushed his hands back down to my waist.

I felt pressure building against my ass little by little with each stroke until I was sitting on a thick steel rod that ran up to my lower back. I wish I could have watched him trying to hold back -- it must have looked so cute. Poor guy probably thought that I would slap him, or that the girl next to him who looked like his fiancée would.

A few weeks ago, I impressed myself by giving some old-timer a raging hard-on. However, feeling the arousal of this dark-haired knockout against me was far more satisfying. I had only tried this a few times before and this was the first I managed to bag a guy I would have dropped my skirt for at first sight. In fact, I had only gotten the idea from my sister the last time I saw her. She let me in on a little secret about her sex life, how she started to get into teasing guys on her bus ride home. The stories she told were incredibly hot. Well, we both always did have a little bit of an exhibitionist streak in us.

And here I was, trying to recreate one of her stories, a real life fantasy. I had to keep going, so I ever so slightly hiked up my skirt every time I bounced in the guy's lap. Before long, I could feel the bare skin of my thighs against his pants. He was squirming around in his seat now and I felt the pressure getting even greater. It was impressive he could get any harder. But it was delicious. I needed to see his face.

There was a slight break in the turbulence, which allowed me to stand up. The seat belt light was still on so I knew there was more to come. I flicked the outer armrest up and said: "Thank you for being so cooperative, sir."

---

Thank God that was over, I thought, hoping she wasn't looking at the bulge in my pants she had created. Before I had time to take a breath, though, the plane rocked back and forth and the stewardess was thrown forward violently. She crashed into me again, but forwards this time, one leg straddling the aisle side of my seat and the other landing knee-first in the gap for the middle armrest. Predictably, her crotch drove straight into mine after one soft breast broke her fall on my face.

"I'm gonna be sick, Michael!" Sarah moaned as she reached for my hand. The jolt set her off, but there was more than one thing for her to be sick about. Fortunately, she had been holding the barf bag in anticipation.

"Sir, for safety, you'll have to hold me in place," the stewardess said as she wrapped my free arm around her waist and hugged my shoulders, anchoring her to me. She looked almost a bit jealous now that I was holding my wife's hand. "Looks like we'll have to ride this out together. Sorry for the inconvenience, sir."

This was the only instance I could imagine right now where having her in my lap would be an inconvenience. Sarah squeezed my hand and I peered over at her retching into the bag. When I turned back, I was staring down the stewardess's blouse, her cleavage peaking out of a rather translucent pink bra. No, that wasn't right, she definitely didn't have that many buttons undone before. She had to be fucking with me.

My thought processes were interrupted by the plane again as the stewardess fell forward, making her crotch rub up and down my bulge. This time wasn't as forceful -- instead her head snapped forward slightly and our lips pushed together awkwardly. I stayed still, but I heard a tiny smack and felt a little suction as she pulled away and grinned sheepishly. Did she really just accidentally kiss me?

Another jolt a second later threw my face into her cleavage. When she pulled back, she nonchalantly undid the next button on her blouse. Holy fuck! She was fucking with me. No, she wanted to fuck me. Her hips moved against mine slowly, but freely now, not disguising their intentions by going along with the motions of the airplane.

What to do? What is anyone supposed to do in this situation? Should I just let it take its course, tell her to meet me in the bathroom when the turbulence was over so I could fuck her brains out? I certainly wanted to, but another squeeze from Sarah's hand snapped me back. Once we landed and made one more connection, we'd be in Hawaii on our honeymoon, fucking 'til dawn every day. Just a few more hours to wait and I'd be making love to my own stunning woman for a week straight. Of course, I really did love Sarah, and not just for the sex. Really, I'm not a womanizer. It's just hard not to look like a cheater when you're staring down the shirt of some curvy, leggy stewardess throwing herself all over you.

And she was still rubbing against me like it was standard practice at a time like this. Once more, she flew forward. Her bra was fully exposed now and my face pressed into it. Her soft, firm breasts were incredible even through the pink material. Her nipples were clearly standing out now, arousing me even more. I felt myself leak a little bit, making me realize that I was actually nearing orgasm.

Whose safety was really at stake now, hers or mine? My head ached with guilt, but my member ached with need.

---

It was time for the big move. Everything had fallen into place -- he was no doubt hornier than he could handle, she was preoccupied with emptying the contents of her stomach into a paper bag, and the people across from us had their blinders on, still making a futile attempt at sleep. I slid back a little bit to pinch the tab on his zipper.

The look of confused arousal he wore was replaced by a scowl. He whispered: "Stop."

He had some sense of humor. It was far too late to stop. I wanted to talk him down so much right now, remind him how much he needed me and how hard he was. With his girlfriend or wife or whoever she was next to us, though, I settled with mouthing, hoping he could read my lips in the flickering light: "Nice try, but I know you need to cum so bad."

His pants jutted out at the crotch from his massive erection, forcing the zipper into a curved shape. I pulled the tab down until it hit the tip of the curve, then his hand wrapped around my wrist. I had one more free hand than he did, though, and he realized he had no choice. My other hand continued the course until his fly opened to reveal his boxers, which tented out of his pants and were dappled with precum. Seeing this made me even more excited. I gave him a quick squeeze and another wet spot formed on the fabric. I dripped with anticipation as I pulled the fold of his underwear back to expose his shaft. It glistened with its own lubrication, red and twitching. Seeing what I had done to him was too much.

I slid forward so that the front of my skirt covered his crotch. The back was still hiked up, though, so his dick soon met my cotton panties. I slid my hand into the folds of my skirt and plunged it into my panties. That look of confused arousal returned -- my fingers were working hard getting me off while they pushed the material of my panties against his cock. I felt it continue twitching against my fingers, occasionally releasing drops of precum that soaked into both our garments. I was already the horniest I'd ever been, and that only made it more so.

I ignored him as mouthed: "No. Stop." My fingers slid in and out, they pleased my clit, bringing me closer. My knuckles teased the underside of his dick through my panties, and now it was jerking around so much that it was slapping itself against my hand. He looked broken and dazed, as if his protests were just token now. Then he mouthed something that threw me over the edge: "Please let me cum."

My pussy convulsed in a short but intense orgasm, like it knew this was a prelude. I bit my lip to muffle a little moan.

---

Can I ever tell Sarah I'm sorry? I let the stewardess win. She even had me silently begging to cum. If only I had pushed her off me like a faithful man. But would she have made a scene anyway? It doesn't mean shit now anyway, she won.

There she was, playing with herself so that her fingers would just lightly tease my dick until I was about to explode. God, where did she pick that up from? Finally, her weight shifted and the feeling of her panties was replaced by warmth and moistness. She had pushed her panties aside -- my cock was touching her bare pussy. Her previous grinding motion resumed. Her lips slid up and down the length of my shaft, covering it in her juices. Maybe she would keep going until I came and we could be done with it. My balls felt as if they would burst. Just as they tightened in preparation, she sat still. This was becoming excruciating.

"Please let me cum," I mouthed again. I still couldn't believe I was begging, but I don't doubt anyone would've done the same at this point. She leaned toward me, nibbled on my earlobe gently, and licked my ear. Her tongue probed until she pulled it back and breathed. She whispered to me. It would have sounded sultry from anyone else, but from her it sounded like a hiss: "Take me...if you want to cum."

---

Silly little boy. Unlike my other victims, I wanted to fuck him the second I sat in his lap. But when he made it clear how desperate he was to cum, I couldn't help but play with him. He looked like he was still processing my request, his eyes glazed over in arousal. I just kept rubbing myself on his dick. I had to stop every once in a while when I felt him tense up. When that happened, I would lean toward him and listen to his heart. His member throbbed between my legs every time it beat. He was getting restless and forcing his hips against mine, trying to cum. I started holding him down to keep my pace. Having his shaft sliding over my lips and against my clit was driving me crazy. Damn, he was practically teasing me at this point. I decided to speed things up.

"If you don't put it in, you'll regret it forever," I whispered in his ear. "If you want to cum, just take me."

---

I don't know how it slipped in! I mean, I was grinding against her, trying to get myself off. I would be a little more innocent if I didn't actually fuck her, right? But I'm pretty sure I was sitting still when it went in. She must have put it in.

I froze up when it slid in. My member, though, breathed a sigh of relief. It was tormented by her heat, so close to bliss but unable to find it. It strained with animalistic instinct, wondering why its owner would let it so close to what it needed yet deny that need. Until, at last, the head burrowed inside, resting for a moment until the shaft followed. The turbulence sent vibrations through the seat, causing my cock to pulsate inside her. The feeling was amazing even though we both sat completely still.

---

Finally, he's inside me. So I'm fucking this stud on an airplane next to his fiancée, no less, half against his will. When did I become such a sick pervert? I probably would have thought that if I weren't overcome with lust. It was liberating -- job, common decency, respect, dignity, out the window. All you need is sex.

Michael, that's what she called him, right? Well, Michael was mine right now! I pulled my jacket closed with one hand so that it wouldn't be obvious that my bra was exposed. With the other, I took the airbag from Michael's chair and reached over to where he and his girl clasped hands and pulled them apart. I stuffed the bag in her open hand.

"Fresh bag, ma'am?" My question was a command.

"Oh, thanks." She put her bag down and opened the new one with two hands, immediately stuffing her face in it.

Some twisted adrenaline rush! I had just talked to this guy's girlfriend while he was inside me, right in front of her! We couldn't have been closer, either -- my left leg sat in the armrest gap, pressed against hers. My mind went wild. Would she ever find out? Did she actually know? What would it be like to know your boyfriend had fucked some slut right in front of you?

My mind settled as I took his hand that previously held his girlfriend's and wrapped it around my waist. You're mine, Michael.

---

She was fucking me now, slowly but steadily, taking care that our thighs didn't slap together or that one of us moaned in ecstasy. Our hips didn't move that far apart, but it didn't matter. Just being inside her was enough to set me off, especially with the vibrations from the turbulence. She rocked back and forth and when the turbulence hit, she used it as an excuse to kiss me. Her tongue shot into my mouth and swirled around mine. Her pussy was throbbing -- she was cumming. Good timing, too, as a particularly violent gust hit the plane. The lights went out momentarily. I couldn't handle any more.

I pulled her hips against mine hard, sinking in as deep as I could, while our tongues remained locked. We moaned into each others' mouths as her pussy squeezed my shaft in its last throes of orgasm. My hips bucked and an overwhelming pressure built then shot into her. Then again, and again. I had never cum so hard. Then again, I had never had such exhilarating sex. She collapsed onto me as she milked the last few drops, whispering: "God, that was the best fuck I've ever had."

I had to agree. She straightened up and the lights came on as the plane steadied. My dick managed to remain erect inside her for a few moments, and I was a little sad when it shriveled and withdrew from her, just as I was when she buttoned her shirt.

A voice came over the intercom and announced that we had made it through the turbulence. The seatbelt light turned off and reality rushed back in.

The stewardess stood up and walked off without a word. Our juices had mixed and dripped out of her, coating my member and pooling in the crotch of my pants. Sarah looked up from the bag now that the lights were on and the stewardess was gone, turning toward me. I was sitting speechless, my dick shrinking into the pool of fluids.

"Michael?"