Best Flight Ever A Milk Run

Tom was sitting in coach seat 23B, the middle seat. The seats on either side of his were empty, for now. The passengers were streaming onto the plane in that herky-jerky hurry-up-and-wait mambo that is repeated a million times a day on every flight to everywhere. As each passenger approached, Tom silently evaluated them and put them into one of two categories. Either he wouldn't mind if they were in his row or he prayed they would not be. It was an evening flight.

Tom fixed his gaze at the portly businessman in the polyester slacks and too tight golf shirt. Tom's spirits sank as the man stopped at his row and checked his boarding pass, shoved his carry-on into the overhead bin and slid into the aisle seat with a huge sigh. The men nodded at each other. The businessman pulled out his phone, dialed and began a too loud conversation about his upcoming meeting with some subordinate on the other end of the line.

More passengers filed past. Finally, Tom began to think he might have an empty seat to his left. He would slide over to the window seat and distance himself from the coffee/cologne odor of his new seatmate and have a bit of breathing room. Just as Tom was about to unbuckle his seatbelt, he looked up and saw a short, mousy-looking woman trying to get the attention of the jabbering businessman. The aisle seat was apparently hers.

Without breaking stride in his conversation, the chubby businessman stood up and backed away from the row. The woman looked around for a place to stow her carry-on bag. Tom could see there was a space in the bin a row back behind her, but she was looking the wrong way. Knowing he would have to get up anyway, Tom stood.

"There's a spot up here. Let me help you," he said, lifting her small roller-bag up and into the open slot. The woman smiled, not looking directly at Tom and slid along the row, settling into the window seat.

She quietly said, "Thank you." She shifted uncomfortably in the seat. She was wearing a plain brown cloth coat that gave her a formless shape and was clearly too heavy.

Tom sat back down and the businessman plopped beside him, still talking as if he was the only one on board. The woman kept fidgeting and finally began to unbutton the coat and tried to remove it while jammed in the close quarters of the window seat. Tom saw her struggling and he pushed up the arm rest between them to give her a bit more room. She managed to get the coat off and laid it across her lap. Only then did Tom notice that this woman had a sweet, soft face. Her skin was pale and her mop of curly hair was partially covering her expression of consternation.

"Everything ok?" Tom asked. She seemed to be almost in pain. He was concerned out of kindness, but also because he wanted to have a quiet flight. A sick or agitated seatmate would not be a good thing.

The woman sighed and almost grunted, "Yes. I'm fine. I'm...just a little uncomfortable. I'm warm." With that she shoved the coat from her lap to underneath the seat in front of her. As she sat back, relieved, Tom noticed that the woman appeared to have an expansive chest. It was hard to tell from where he was sitting, but Tom perceived this woman had a very top-heavy figure.

The flight took off on time and was mostly uneventful. A couple of times, during mild turbulence, Tom stole a glance to see if the woman's chest was bouncing. It was, a little. But it was hard to tell as the woman was wearing a big sweater that seemed to be padded. Tom thought it looked strange, but being something of a "tit man" he was a little excited nonetheless. The flight landed in Baltimore, but was continuing on to Florida. The businessman got off and there was a quiet few minutes before the next load of passengers would board. Tom turned to the woman. For the first time, he saw she was quite pretty.

"On to Florida?" he asked.

"Yes, if I make it," she replied.

"Oh, what's the matter?" Tom asked. He could see she was really agitated.

"Well, I understand they are having bad weather. And I really need to...get somewhere," she said cryptically.

Tom was going to ask her what she meant, but an announcement came over the speaker that the flight to Florida had been cancelled. All flights to Florida would be cancelled until the following day due to a large weather system. Tom reached for his Smartphone to book a room. He knew the few rooms near the airport would fill up fast. Practiced fingers knew this routine and he had the numbers stored to quickly secure one of the last rooms near the airport.

The woman watched him get his room. He looked up at her and offered his phone so she could do likewise. She told him she wasn't sure what to do. Tom offered to find her a room. He quickly searched, but found there were no rooms nearby. When he told her this, she broke down crying.

Tom was a little shocked. It wasn't such bad news. She could find a room downtown, he suggested. She stifled her tears and looked him in the eyes.

"My name is Marcia Livingstone. I'm a single mom. I left my little girl back in New York with my mom."

She whispered the next part, "I left her with a bunch of bottles of my milk. And I have to get somewhere soon to pump myself. It is an emergency. Do you understand?" She sobbed again.

"Sure, I understand. I'm a dad. My kids are grown, but I remember those days. Come with me. Use my room and then we'll get you a cab to a room downtown."

Marcia couldn't believe how understanding this man was being. He assured her that his generous offer was for real. She was so desperate that she decided to trust him and they grabbed their luggage, found a cab and were soon in a comfortable room in the airport Marriott.

Tom got out of Marcia's way. She pulled a contraption from her bag and tore into the bathroom. As Tom unpacked and tried not to dwell on the fact that a strange woman was pumping breast milk in his bathroom, he heard the low hum of what he presumed was the pump's motor. It seemed to take a long time. He was settled in and had the TV on, when Marcia finally emerged. Her sweater was not fully pulled down and she looked flustered.

"Emergency over?" he asked hopefully.

"Not really. This stupid pump doesn't work as good as the one I have at home. It's a little better, but..." Her voice trailed off.

"Hey, tell me what's wrong and maybe we can fix it."

"There's nothing to fix. Look, I am trying to raise my baby naturally. I breastfeed. OK? I'm a fanatic. Alright? I am constantly pumping milk and freezing it and I feel like a fucking cow sometime with these huge ugly udders. To prepare for this trip I went into overtime production," she laughed ironically.

Tom was taking all this in. He was fascinated by this woman. She was obviously upset. But what was he supposed to do?

She continued, "My mother has a freezer full of milk to cover my time away. But my breasts are in full production mode. And now I can't make the pump work. In another hour, I am going to be in pain like I was on that plane."

Tom examined the pump; the plastic was cracked and loose. He couldn't make it work. At 51, he was long past this kind of thing. His ex-wife hadn't been a fanatic about breastfeeding their kids. He remembered how he happily watched her breasts grow during her pregnancy from a b-cup to a d-cup, and a full d-cup at that. Her pale aureoles became dark, defined circles and her nipples, that were barely there before, grew and darkened until they were like pencil erasers, perpetually upright. He enjoyed that time long ago. He hadn't thought about it in years. But the thoughts and feeling were back now.

Marcia was exasperated. "Here. Need any milk?" She held the little collection bottle up. It contained a cupful of pale, watery, white liquid sloshing around. She laughed a defeated laugh.

"What would you do if I drank it down?" Tom asked, out of nowhere. "What if I told you I was a fanatic too? Look, I don't want to get creepy here, but you are in my room and asking for my help, so here goes. I'm a divorced man. I don't have a girlfriend because I travel too much. But I like women. Love 'em. And I am particularly attracted to shapely women, women who look like women, not these stick-thin, aerobi-sized model types."

Tom could see Marcia listening earnestly. She was not put off by Tom's honesty.

"I am a man who likes big boobs. There, I said it. I noticed you were my type when you sat down on the plane, but I tried not to be a creep and gawk or come on to you, because you are so much younger and what would you want with an older guy like me? Frankly, I'd be happy to help you. You tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. But I'm not made of wood. I'm warning you I may enjoy it. I won't do anything you don't ask me to. I don't need you screaming rape. But..."

Tom's voice softened, "I would like to help you."

Marcia and Tom looked at each other for a long time. He wasn't sure if she would run out the door. She was considering letting this stranger become very intimate with her in a way she had never done with anyone else. Just then she felt her milk "let down" and her big breasts seemed to engorge. She breathed in and she could feel the massive weight pulling at her chest. The tightness of her breasts stretched the skin. She had to do something.

She reached down for the hem of the sweater and lifted up over her head and removed it. She was wearing a very large, very heavy bra. Tom had never seen anything like it. Marcia was 31. She was of average build, except for her huge boobs. She had a little belly, not much. And she filled her slacks comfortably. Marcia reached into the top of each huge cup and removed a square cotton pad from each. The pads were soaking wet. She held them in her hand and a drop of warm milk dripped from it.

"Do you want this?" she held the plastic bottle up.

Tom took a step forward and took the bottle from her hand. He raised it to him lips. He could smell the long-forgotten aroma of mother's milk. He could smell Marcia's perfume, or was it Marcia herself? He sipped and then drank down the sweet, warm liquid. A drop found the corner of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. Marcia raised a finger to catch the drop. Tom took her hand gently and licked the drop from her finger. Tom took the two cotton pads from Marcia's hand and sucked the wetness from each. Marcia moved an armless chair from the little table toward the side of the bed. She positioned herself up against the bed and leaned back in the chair. She reached down to the front of the bra's left cup and undid the flap and pulled it back exposing a purplish-pink nipple dangling a white droplet of milk. She looked at Tom. He put down the cotton pads and lay down on the bed. He moved until his head was in Marcia's lap. She reached down to cradle his head. Her fingers ran through his thinning salt and pepper hair and across the thin spot on top. She held his head so his lips could find the finger-thick teat. Tom's tongue reached out to capture the leaking drop, sweeter and warmer than the milk in the bottle or the cotton pads. His lips instinctively suckled at the nipple and he began to feel the warm mother's milk flow into his mouth. He let it fill his mouth and he swallowed. It felt so good, so comforting. He eagerly sucked and Marcia stroked his head with one hand and gently held and squeezed her enormous breast through the heavy bra with the other. Time drifted by.

After a long while, Marcia pulled gently away and undid the flap on the other cup. The nipple was dripping with milk. The cup was wet with it. She moved Tom's head over and he suckled again, eagerly. Tom relieved the pressure in Marcia's breasts. He could feel the warmth coming from her. He breathed in her essence. He had never felt as close to anyone. He was so totally relaxed. He had almost no conscious thoughts. As the milk's flow eased and stopped, he slowly became aware again. It has been like a dream. He looked up at Marcia, whose eyes had been closed. She looked so beautiful, radiant even. He became aware that she had moved the hand that had cradled and positioned his head down to between her legs. She had been lazily stroking a finger along her crotch, outside her slacks throughout the time he had been suckling.

Tom pulled in a deep breath. The reality of what they had been doing hit him and he became aroused. He could feel his cock thickening and lengthening in his pants. He slowly moved his hand down to where Marcia's was and rubbed her warm crotch. Marcia opened her eyes and moaned quietly at his touch. Her hips moved slowly against the pressure of his hand. She reached over and placed her hand on the now-obvious bulge in Tom's pants. His cock felt large and warm. She skillfully undid his pants and freed his large, rock-hard cock. It had been a while since Marcia had been with a man and she was very excited to feel a thick, hard cock in her hand. She stroked it slowly with a firm grip. She could see a drop of clear pre-come form at the tip and run down the smooth mushroom head. She rubbed her fingertip in the wetness and then used it to rub the sensitive underside of Tom's cock.

The two of them felt their arousal building and Marcia shifted to the bed, unclasped and shrugged out of her big, harness-like bra. She was soon nude. Tom waste no time in stripping off his clothes and they were locked together under a sheet on the large bed. Their mouths were hungry for each other. Marcia could taste her milk on Tom's lips and tongue. Tom plunged his tongue into her eagerly sucking mouth. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies. After a minute or two of this initial embrace and release of passion, they moved so Tom's hands had access to Marcia's huge tits and warm, wet pussy and Marcia's could massage Tom's rampant cock, heavy balls and ass. Tom firmly massaged the large pliant orbs. Tiny white droplets still appeared at the tips of her nipples. He kissed each fleshy globe and sucked each large nipple and kissed down to her belly and lower to her warm, fragrant mound. The tawny wisps of her pubic hair felt so good on his face.

Marcia shifted as Tom moved so she could get her lips on his cockhead. She kissed it and felt the slippery pre-come. She parted her lips and let the smooth head slide into her mouth. Her tongue danced around it as her mouth watered. She twisted her head and took in more of his length. She began a rhythm of pleasure, pumping the shaft with one hand and her mouth. Her grip rotated as her mouth did. The sensation was better than anything Tom could remember. She was skilled and passionate. Her ragged breathing betrayed her naked arousal. This was a bitch in heat, needing to feel a cock filling her, but wanting to give her lover pleasure even more.

Tom licked lightly across her nest of hair and felt the pouting lips beneath. Marcia opened her legs and Tom's lips found her pouting pussylips in a divine kiss. Her pussy seemed to open to his touch. Marcia had large, meaty pussylips that were engorged with lust. Tom sucked them into his mouth, his tongue tracing the crease between them, savoring the taste, so different from the sweetness of her milk, but so primal and arousing. His tongue moved up finding Marcia's stiff clitoris. It was large too and his tongue flicked it playfully before his lips sucked it in. He opened his mouth a bit and consumed her lips and clit and worked the delicate, sensitive flesh in a way that drove Marcia to her first orgasm in many weeks. Tom held her asscheeks to keep her from squirming away, but did not intensify his mouth's pressure for fear of overwhelming the younger woman. Marcia's hips twisted and bucked. She reached down to hold Tom's head and grind her pussy into it. As she did so, she pushed down on Tom's cock, engulfing most of it. Its head pressed against the back of her mouth, pushing into her throat. She strained to open her throat to accept it all. Her passion overcame her gag reflex and she felt Tom's pubic hair brush her lips. She pumped her mouth deliberately up and down his shaft. Her throat was making wet, gulping noises and she was grunting with an instinctive passion. She cradled Tom's balls and squeezed them softly. She wanted the cum that they held.

She pulled off of Tom's cock. A thick string of clear viscous liquid connected her lips to his cockhead. She turned around to straddle Tom's hips. Tom rolled back and grasped his cock at the base. He rubbed the large head along Marcia's thick pussylips. He loved how large they were and how they felt, so smooth and warm. Marcia pushed her weight down when Tom's cockhead was at her cunt's opening. She lowered her tight pussy onto the thick shaft. She exploded in her second mind-rending orgasm. She seemed to spasm and jerk like a rag doll on his cock. Tom felt the tight velvet vice engulf his cock to the base. Her wetness dripped down his balls and to his asshole. He knew he could not take much of this without exploding. Marcia settled onto him, his full length buried in her. She leaned forward and her enormous tits swung into Tom's face.

"Suck on Mommy's tits," she purred.

Tom's mouth fastened onto one huge nipple and he sucked and chewed on it. Marcia shuddered again. Toms' hands were filled with her voluminous tit-flesh. He kneaded them, feeling her milk drip and squirt on his hands and chest and face. He buried his face between the massive tits and felt the warm comfort. Marcia moaned deeply and began to ride his cock expertly. She was in control now. Her hips twisted and she flexed her inner muscles. She was milking Tom's rock-hard cock now.

Tom had wanted to roll this wild woman over onto her back and take over. He had thought about fucking her "like a man", from on top. But he gave in to this now-wild woman's control. He looked up and saw her wild hair draped down. Her face was a mask of lust and desire. Those giant, round jugs were like nothing he had ever dreamed of. They were so full and round. They hung down and swung and swayed and dripped sweet mother's milk from huge, engorged nipples that were so dark on their large, purplish-pink aureole. They looked so amazing against the alabaster white of her breast flesh. And the gripping, pulsing, and stroking of her pussy was beyond belief. The squishing noise of her repeated pumping of it up and down the thick hardness was out of this world. Tom gave himself up to the tidal wave of erotic pleasure. He felt his balls tighten and he was transported.

Marcia was like a wild animal as she fucked this man. If she had not been so beyond aroused, the thick cock would have caused her blinding pain being jammed in her tight pussy. But she was crazed with passion and it was bringing her to the edge of another climax. She felt Tom's muscles tighten. The head of his cock throbbed and expanded inside her. As she felt jet after jet of his cum explode inside her, she felt her clit that had been grinding against him explode. Her pussy convulsed again and again. Wetness gushed from her cunt with loud, squishy noises. Her breasts were overtaken with a wave of warmth that spread over her whole body in a way she had never known before. She screamed an animal scream into Tom's mouth as his hips bucked and slammed up into her. The mutual paroxysm seemed to last forever.

Finally, she collapsed onto Tom. She rolled them onto their sides, but they remained locked together. A long time passed as they each slowly recovered from the explosive journey they had been on. Marcia would not need a cab to a downtown hotel. Tom would not spend another night alone. Tomorrow they would be seatmates on a flight to Florida. And they would be together for a long time after that. And they still had the rest of tonight...