Izzy Needs
It
Izzy pushes her dirty blonde hair from her forehead, looking for the right person—a man. The airport is crowded, and her stomach is knotted with nervous energy. She wants to be more sexually adventurous, but it's hard. Maybe the hardest thing she has ever done?
She worries about what people will think if she just lets herself go.
She is headed to see her boyfriend in Chicago. He wants her to be more sexually adventurous, too. At the gate, Izzy spots a suitable guy wearing flip-flops and a big straw hat. He's attractive and young. Well-built. She flirts with him, joking about the hat. As they chat, she touches his forearm with the tips of her fingers, offering him a hungry look. They have drinks, and she makes her intentions clear.
He says he's game.
On the plane, she finds her seat. A handsome fifty-something man sits in the aisle. He is tall and dark, with a big chest and thick biceps. Crawling past him, Izzy plops her purse into the open middle seat and buckles in at the window. Her head is buzzing softly from the drinks in the terminal, and she's already planning in her mind how she will tell her boyfriend about her successful adventure on this trip.
After takeoff, Izzy's friend from the gate visits her row. He slides into the open seat next to her. They have more drinks, and he quickly passes out. Slumping forward, Izzy gazes at his straw hat. She wasn't sure she could do it, and now she won't even get the chance.
The plane lurches up, then pitches back the other way.
The flight attendant wakes her friend and asks him to return to his seat. He stumbles into the aisle. Izzy goes into a shame spiral. She is disappointed. Her boyfriend will be disappointed. It's all just so very disappointing.
Izzy gets up to go to the bathroom, but as soon as she unbuckles the plane heaves, and she falls into the middle seat. The plane shudders violently, dipping hard right, then back left again. A cold dread fills Izzy. She will surely die today, having never done anything sexually adventurous. The aisle man grabs her, pressing her into the middle seat, covering her with his body until the plane stops bucking. Raising his shoulders, he buckles her into the seat.
Izzy is too terrified to speak. Her heart is thudding in her chest. The plane dips and lurches again, and Izzy screams, grabbing onto the armrests.
The man looks at her intensely.
Their eyes lock.
"I need sex," she whimpers. She isn't sure why she is unburdening herself to a stranger. Maybe because his eyes are big and brown and steady. Maybe because her death feels certain and imminent. "I, I..." Izzy says, squeezing the armrests for courage. "
I need it
."
He narrows his eyes.
A sudden cowboy yelp breaks the tension in the cabin.
Yeeehaw!
It's the captain over the intercom. He says they have passed the worst of it, and the plane bucks and rocks as if to defy his words, but then it settles down. A wave of nausea washes over Izzy. She immediately regrets voicing her needs to her seatmate. Feeling her cheeks warm, she looks tentatively at the man in the aisle seat.
He glances into his lap, then glares at her. "
Excuse me
?" he hisses.
Izzy suddenly realizes that her hand is in his lap, and she is holding his cock. She'd thought it was the armrest, but now that she realizes it's his cock, she can't imagine how she has made such a horrible mistake. She snatches her hand away, gasping.
The man lowers the armrest between them.
Izzy apologizes.
She explains about her boyfriend, about their goals for her to become more adventurous. She is humiliated and flustered, and she laughs at the ridiculousness of her situation. He does not look amused and she blusters apology on top of apology. Even as she desperately works to make her social blunder right, part of her mind keeps returning to the length and heft of his cock.
It felt like an armrest
. How could a man's cock feel that hard and stiff? It's just really turning her on, but she can't think about it that way because his look has gone from stern to deeply skeptical. He is not having some little twenty-something white girl holding onto his cock for courage. God, she squeezed that big fucking thing and it did not give much.
Like a fucking armrest
.
"Enough," he says. Holding up his hands.
Izzy goes back to the window seat. She is embarrassed and hot.
They fly a little further in silence, and then he says something to make idle conversation. He asks about Chicago and she is only too happy to respond. They have a little back and forth. He tells her that he is going to meet some family—a little surprise visit. He seems willing to let it go.
As they start to descend, he tells her about a risk he took once. How it changed his life. He says something encouraging about people who take risks.
Izzy feels better.
They disembark and she ends up at the gate. She is killing time so that she doesn't have to call her boyfriend and tell him she failed. Her seatmate strolls past. He stops and looks at her. It's such a calculating and hungry look that Izzy's cheeks warm. She knows he is inviting her to do something sexual. He is much older than her, old enough to be her father. He extends his hand. She looks around. He is not the one she had imagined she would have sex with, but he is the one in front of her right now.
She takes his hand.
He leads her through the airport. He is dragging his bag in one hand, holding her hand with the other. She is dragging her bag. They are a little two-car train heading for sex. She won't let herself think about what she is getting herself into but just tries to enjoy the forbidden energy. Her pussy is sopping wet. He turns into the men's room and doesn't break stride. Her face heats up, and a tingling starts down below.
There is a line and they have to wait just inside the door.
He doesn't look left or right. He doesn't let go of her hand. Men are looking at her as they exit the bathroom. A guy grins at her seatmate, but he ignores it. Soon a stall opens and he drags her and the bags to just outside the door. It's one of those big handicap stalls. He pulls her bag into the stall. His own. She hurries inside, and he closes and latches the door.
He lifts the seat, unzips his fly, and urinates.
She turns her head.
The sound of his stream tumbling into the bowl fills the stall. She steals a look.
It's a fucking huge cock, a big black pipe
. A hot thrill runs through her.
He finishes, zipping up.
He takes a big handful of paper toilet seat covers from the holder on the wall and cleans the rim of the bowl, the seat. Throwing the spent paper into the bowl, he flushes again. He stands, smiles, and makes a little gesture with his hands toward the toilet.
She sits before him.
He opens his pants and pulls out that big cock.
Her breath is coming fast and hard. This is it. She takes his warm cock in her hands and rubs her cheek against him. She kisses the big head. Licks underneath. Putting as much of that big cock into her mouth as she can, she breathes in his musky scent. Her boyfriend is biracial, but this man is all black. He is an old black man with a huge cock that needs a good sucking. Her job is to satisfy him with her mouth. She gets down on her knees. She is stroking and sucking, licking. His balls need attention, and she provides it. He starts stroking the length. He warns her that he is going to come soon, and she responds by stuffing him right into her mouth. He makes low growling man noises, and soon a pool of warm semen fills her mouth. She swallows a mouthful of hot spunk. He pulls his dick from her mouth, and she tilts her chin up, opening wide. Her mouth is his to use however he pleases. Cum splashes across her face, into her hair. After he finishes, he slips his fat prick back into her mouth and holds her by the head, grinding his hips. Blood throbs in her ears. Her face has never been used like this before.
He takes his cock from her mouth and puts it back in his pants. He zips, turns, and opens the door. Taking his bag, he is gone.
Her lips tingle. Her face is smeared with cum.
Someone tries to come into the stall, and she realizes she is in a dangerous position. She grabs her bag and exits the stall. The guy coming into the stall is shocked to see her. All the men in the restroom stop. Stare.
Her seatmate is nowhere to be seen.
She races from the bathroom, not stopping to wash. She wipes her face with her bare hands. She considers going into the women's bathroom but decides she can't risk it. She must walk through the airport with cum smeared on her face. She does her best to clean herself with her hands, wiping his semen on her shirt, her slacks. She can smell his musk on her. She is such a slut. Her hands shake and she calls her boyfriend.
"Baby?" she says.
"Honey?" His voice sounds alarmed.
"I did it, baby. I sucked a cock."
Silence. For a minute, she thinks he might reject her. When he does speak, his voice is tentative. For all his certainty about experimentation before her trip, now he sounds uncertain. He says he is on his way. The wait for him to arrive is agony. Finally, he finds her at the curb. He gets out of the car and holds her. Relief washes over her. They kiss and she can't help but think about that big black cock that reamed her mouth.
In the car, his hesitancy is gone, if it ever was there. He slips his hand between her legs, squeezing her cunt. A cop waves them away from the curb. The pickup area is packed with cars. He negotiates the maze of cars, eyes on the road.
He wants details.
She reaches between his legs and he's hard. He's not as big as her seatmate and it shames her to make this comparison. He asks her what she did, and she takes a deep breath.
