This is the fourth in a series of logs kept by my wife of her naughty activities when travelling for business.
HJH-04 in her words:
My friend Angel had dropped me off at the airport. I silently laughed at how desperate my husband must have been to cum then. I had ridden his face to orgasm numerous times throughout the week ahead of my business trip. Any time I woke in the middle of the night, I'd wake him and have him service me. Anytime, anywhere, and anyhow, I wanted it all week long. To top it off, he agreed I wouldn't let him cum that whole week, and he'd have to wait till I got home from this trip.
I had left him lying on the bed, naked, with a bottle of lube and a towel, thinking I was going upstairs to service him before I left, but I had arranged for my friend to be ready at 4:00 for me to sneak out the door and have her drop me off at the airport. A carefully worded text to my husband ensured he wouldn't jerk off while I was gone with my promise to "discuss" him cumming down my throat when I got back. His having a two-week build-up of cum to shoot down my throat should be enough to keep his hands off-limits from his cock until I returned.
Sitting in the airport, I slowly transformed from Sharon to Hannah. I began my game by watching others arrive at the gate and picking out guys I hoped I'd end up sitting next to. My last two trips had been a bust for getting my hand on a stranger's cock under a coat or blanket. I needed that feeling of a growing erection in my hand, throbbing as I massaged and stroked it, swelling and then finally releasing its load for me. I had to experience that again on this trip.
I also began doing more reading after the accidentally ruined orgasm I had given my husband over a week ago. Reading about that, I also ran across terms I had not previously been aware of. Edging, tease, denial, and femdom. The more I read, the more excited I got. How many more of those things might I be able to talk or trick my husband into letting me experiment with? Thinking of him laying on that bed with towel and lube on the nightstand, so desperate to cum, I bet I could talk him into anything.
Engrossed in my reading, I glanced up to realize the woman sitting next to me was glancing over. Unsure of how much she had seen, I blushed and looked up at her. For some reason, I wasn't offended. So, with flushed cheeks, I smiled back at her. She returned it and offered an apology for accidentally glancing at my screen. She said she hadn't seen much but had caught the phrases "ruined orgasm" and "tease/denial." Somehow, that served as an icebreaker, and, sitting slightly off to the side from others, we struck up a pleasant conversation. She introduced herself as Jenny, and I didn't even hesitate to introduce myself as Hannah.
Soon we were surfing the net for femdom reading and started sharing things we found interesting. Somehow, in the middle of all this, I confessed my new fetish to her and how I had given a couple of strangers tug jobs while in the air. I described the feeling of a strange cock growing in my hand, how it swells before it unloads, and warm sticky goo all over my fingers. I told her I was desperate to make it happen on this trip. Not once, but maybe even twice if I could "pull it off" (lol).
As we chatted, I also confessed to her the condition in which I had left my husband and that I had made him service me that week. I revealed my promise that when I returned, we'd discuss my swallowing his load. Everything.
She said something that has stuck with me since that moment: "It sounds like you need to be as much on the receiving end as the giving. Think about it; you talked about how wet you get feeling a strange cock in your hand. But when you talked about what you were doing with your husband all week, your nipples got hard, and your breathing changed. I think you should not only focus on giving hand jobs on your trips but equally deserve to be on the receiving end."
As the conversation took that turn, the boarding call came. We stepped in line and got our tickets out. She had a window seat, and I had the aisle (which I usually requested) in the same row. What are the odds of that? We laughed at the coincidence and made our way to our seats. Although I was looking forward to seeing who might sit between us, I was a bit disappointed we were sitting that close, especially after our conversation. How could I possibly have any privacy to work my magic on some new stranger?
"Excuse me, I think this is my seat." I looked up to see a tall, handsome young man. If he weren't still in college, the ink would probably still be wet on his diploma! For some reason, I'm more drawn to middle-aged men, who are not necessarily attractive and more distinguished. The buff, hot, young guys are fun to look at, but that's not where my hand
preferred
to search, so I was slightly disappointed in who sat beside me and the proximity of a woman who knew my secret.
We were in the air, and I struggled with the situation. The lady from the gate would likely stay awake and watch to see if I would do anything. I prefer my privacy in these things! I don't normally go for this guy's type. What to do, what to do?
An hour into the flight, the lights dimmed, and people dozed off around us. My lack of commitment to trying anything had changed to sleepiness until I heard a few whispers to my left and some fidgeting. A semi-conscious glance in that direction showed the young man spreading his coat over his lap. He glanced over at me, and I quickly closed my eyes, hoping he hadn't noticed me looking. I kept my eyes closed for a few moments and then peeked through the tiniest slit in my eyelids. Sure enough, his coat was moving up and down gently. A further peek revealed he was leaning back, head tilted to the sky, and both arms folded across his chest.
At first, I was totally pissed. This BITCH was moving in on my action. I did hesitate, though and did not make the move. You snooze, you lose, maybe? I leaned forward a bit and glanced at her. She was looking forward, her left arm under her coat and her right arm under his coat. As I scowled at her, she turned her head toward me, smiled, and nodded her head down toward his crotch. I couldn't help but smile back. In fact, it was kind of exciting knowing she was doing it after our conversation.
I was about to sneak a hand under my coat and start on myself when she softly cleared her throat. I glanced up at her. She raised her eyebrows at me, stared me straight in the eye, and nodded her head down toward his crotch again, much more deliberately, as if she was trying to say something. Suddenly, I realized what it was. One more glance at the young man confirmed he was content, enjoying her attention. I reached over and gently raised his coat a bit. Pausing, I looked up at her, and she had a huge smile. Her nod of approval was all I needed.
She was inviting me to join her
.