What a Journey

Not even half-way into my return long haul return flight from Melbourne to Heathrow. I was squeezed sardine-like into a centre economy seat.

The lucky fellow to my left, who had bagged the window seat, and athletically weighing in at least 220 pounds, was gently snoring like a baby.

As the weather in Melbourne was seasonally above average, it was a scorcher when we left. My travelling companion had elected to sensibly wear a thin pair of shorts befitting the climatic conditions.

I don't know what it was he was dreaming about but whatever it was, it had produced an enormous erection that was threatening to spectacularly undress him, With a strategically placed magazine in my lap I managed to successfully hide my sympathetic bulge.

As soon as possible I safely and gracefully squeezed past the sprightly elderly lady who occupied the aisle seat, and who appeared oblivious to the proximity of erect penises in her vicinity, I quickly headed for the toilets still clutching my strategically placed magazine.

Once inside the cubicle I simultaneously locked the door and freed my throbbing cock. In less than a minute, and some serious pounding, I liberally sprayed the mirror with a never ending stream of my ejaculate. A quick tidy-up, a liberal amount of tissues to clean the mirror, and I was again ready to take my seat.

I returned to my allocated seat once again and squeezed past the seemingly energetic elderly lady. Window seat was still asleep. A quick glance down alerted me to the fact that his dream had moved on and he was no longer aroused to distraction, thankfully.

Margaret was the name of the sprightly elderly who sat next me. I struck up a conversation with her as I failed miserably to sleep no matter how hard I tried. Margaret had spent 6 weeks in Box Hill, Melbourne, visiting Anne, her daughter, Jack, her son-in-law, and her granddaughters, Jackie and Samantha. The family had certainly made the most of their holiday. They had spent a week in Sydney and a week in Perth. They had also visited Canberra, Ayres Rock, and Geelong. They had driven down The Great Ocean Road, swam in the sea, and visited many beaches.

Budapest was the airport we landed at in order to re-fuel and stop for an hour before the last leg to Heathrow. Budapest was also where Margaret lived. Margaret met Jacob her husband during World War 2 in London. They got married and moved to Hungary in 1947, finally settling in Budapest.

I was able to tell Margaret the bare minimum about myself that she could actually relate to. My age, the fact I was single, and I lived just outside Manchester was all I could manage. The fact that I worked in IT, didn't inspire further conversation. Margaret could accept the fact I had spent 3 weeks visiting my brother in Byron Bay, Surfers Paradise. The Strip was where I practically spent the whole of my holiday. I couldn't tell her much of what went on there though. Margaret did perk up a little though when I revealed that I spent 2 nights in Brisbane. I didn't get around to explaining what I did when I was there, however.

The Australian pilot informed us that it was 3 degrees Celsius in Budapest and a clear starry night, We would land in 5 minutes. Those disembarking etc...

I helped Margaret with her hand luggage and also disembarked to stretch my legs whilst they re-fuelled. Budapest Airport is small and dinghy. There is not much to do except walk around in small circles. Even the duty-free is lacklustre and not worth your attention. Boarding for my flight was called so I queued like everybody else to brave the last leg.

When I arrived back to my seat, 'Window Seat' was not only awake but had changed out of his skimpy shorts and vest. He now sported a pair of jeans, lumberjack shirt and thick jumper. Simon turned out to be the name of the passenger to my left, who I referred to as 'Window Seat', who occupied the window seat. Simon was quite chatty when he was conscious and of this world. Not only did it appear we shared similar lifestyles, our sexual preferences were aligned too. When I informed my neighbour of his enormous stiffy whilst asleep, Simon was quite turned on.

The lights dimmed for our final 2 hours and 20 minutes of our journey. I was able to get my hands on Simon's huge cock as the darkness intended to aid sleep gave us some privacy. My slow masturbatory technique brought him to a shuddering climax. On returning the compliment, Simon produced more of a frantic hand job resulting in a satisfying spurting conclusion. Simon sensed what I liked.

A quick clean-up was possible with the aid of some tissues prior to the lights returning for our landing. Sticky underpants were just a fact of life we had to put up with for the time-being. Simon's rectum would just have to be an imagined scenario until I could make it a reality.

As we waited by the luggage carousel for our bags Simon suggested ' a room for the night in The Airport Hotel. Simon obviously had more money than I did so I went along for the ride. We checked into room 122 and Simon used his Visa to pay.

We disrobed instantly and headed for the shower. Generously soaping each others' genitalia mutual orgasms were produced. By the time condoms were applied, along with copious amounts of lube, we fell into bed with stiff pricks once again. Simon took his turn first and ejaculated relatively quickly as I attempted to wank myself as he thrust himself vigorously into me. Lubing myself, I slowly inserted myself into Simon's rectum and built up to a crescendo as filled my condom with a spectacular shudder, With that I slipped out of Simon, rolled over, and fell asleep.

I did come around to a half-awake state during the night to feel a stiff cock and cool lube gently inducing an orgasm from Simon. I, however, was too tired to respond.

When I did finally awake around 9 o'clock Simon had vanished. He had packed and left without saying goodbye or leaving a contact number. Simon obviously didn't believe in commitment.

I had a leisurely shower, got my stuff together and left the hotel to get a train back to Manchester.