For those who pay attention to such things: When Sarah is alone the story is in the past tense. When Claire and Sarah are together the story is in present tense.
Thanks to HaltWhoGoesThere for copy editing - repeatedly.
Impact of Turbulence and Death
The flight had started out unremarkable. I had the window seat. There was a middle aged man on the aisle, who had asked a few questions about where I was going and snuck glances at my breasts.
I had given him terse answers, pointedly looking out the window into the overcast darkness until he left me be. I distracted myself from him and the storm by thinking about Ali and Rebekah.
They had slept late, finally texting me that they still wanted to meet for brunch and to pick them up at the hotel. I had walked over, it was warm, Times Square was crowded with sweating tourists. I moved slowly, kept to the shade as much as I could, but still, found the whoosh of cool air in the hotel lobby a relief.
I found them both in Rebekah's suite, just out of the shower. They had ordered room service and were in good spirits, offering me champagne. I poured myself a cup of coffee from the pot and made myself comfortable in the big chair as the two bounced around happily naked.
"I've always thought you had such lovely figures," I told them as they got dressed, "but now... Jesus, you both look amazing."
"I've gotten really into yoga," Rebekah told us with a smile, striking a pose. She looked proud of herself as she reached back to clasp her bra.
"I should try that," Ali had said, looking at Rebekah and grabbing at the flesh of her ass.
"Stop," Rebekah protested, but not to the grabbing of her ass, which she clearly enjoyed and encouraged by backing towards Ali. "You are
so
fit!"
"But I'm not doing
anything
now," Ali whined, pulling free of Rebekah, but showing herself off to the other woman as she did, stretching to show muscles and ribs." At school I was on the rowing team and Disco Inferno..."
"Of course you played Ultimate," Rebekah laughed, grabbing at Ali's sporty little body. Neither woman was particularly large. I had remembered Rebekah as taller than me. Maybe I'd grown? I had an inch or two on her now. Both of them could be described as petite, with slim tight figures and narrow waists, but Ali was shorter - and definitely had the bigger ass and thicker thighs.
"Have you ever done yoga?" Rebekah asked Ali, putting her hands on Ali's waist, gripping her. "I started as a way to deal with stress at work - and it was super helpful - but then I started getting
really
good."
The conversation quickly devolved into the two of them doing yoga poses in their underpants. Rebekah indeed looked like an instructor as she paused to guide Ali, making small adjustments to the way she held her limbs and her posture. The two began to giggle when Ali stretched her neck to kiss the front of Rebekah's panties, but the mood shifted as Rebekah went still, holding herself there until Ali rolled onto her hip and stretched her back straight, so her mouth could embrace Rebekah's fabric covered lips.
I should have felt like a third wheel, but I didn't. Instead I felt integral to what was happening, just as I had the night before. They wanted me to see this, just as Rebekah and I had wanted Ali to know our story.
"Yesss," Rebekah gasped as Ali reached up to pull off her panties. She let Ali pull them down and off, then spread her stance, as Ali took her place between her legs, tipping her head back to kiss Rebekah's lips.
The night before Ali had made Rebekah wait. She had made Rebekah eat her pussy again and again before she finally reciprocated. I had felt a charge building each time Ali had pushed Rebekah down, each time she had ignored Rebekah's obvious desire to cum. Rebekah had looked to me at one point, appealing, but Ali had made her keep going, cuming four times before she had finally gone down on Rebekah - which was how many times Rebekah told us I'd made her cum.
But now Ali looked up, eyes burning with undisguised desire as she pushed her tongue out and began to lick Rebekah's bald pussy.
"MmnN..." Rebekah purred, then, putting her fingers in Ali's hair, and gripping her short locks, pulled her in. She looked over to me, her eyes liquid, her focus a bit distant.
"This," she told me, taking a deep breath, "is how I fantasized about you, standing over you like this."
"Did we ever... I mean, did I?"
"No, not like this - oh ssshit Ali..." she swore, looking down with appreciation at something Ali was doing with her mouth, but then after gathering herself she returned her attention to me. "I think it's because I would watch you and masturbate standing up?"
Instead of getting jealous or angry, having Rebekah talk about me this way, talk
to
me this way, it seemed to turn Ali on. She was licking and sucking louder. Her lips were making soft blubbery wet sounds. Her hands clutching and squeezing at Rebekah's ass and thighs and flanks.
Finally, Rebekah seemed too overcome to continue talking, she held Ali's hair in both fists now, head down so her hair hid her face, she began to roll and pump her hips. She bent her knees and brought herself up on the balls of her feet.
The pose looked like somewhere between yoga and the Kama sutra.
Ali's eyes were open, looking up, watching Rebekah. Were they looking into each other's eyes?
"You're so beautiful..." I told them. I was sitting in the big chair again, one leg slung over the arm. I had masturbated that morning in bed, watching Claire's video, but now, watching Ali and Rebekah, I was fingering the gusset of my panties, enjoying the smooth feeling as I worked the silk into my wet crease.
"I remember when you showed up on campus," Rebekah said, her face still hidden and her voice sounding hollow and strained. Her abdomen was clenching. She flipped her hair back and looked at me again, her expression open, her focus clear. "There was so much buzz about you."
"Me? Why?"
"Oh my God, are you kidding? Those great big eyes. Strawberry blonde, so pale, but always flush. ALL tits and ass... you always seemed to be falling out of your clothes that first semester, a walking wet dream..."
This would have made me blush if I weren't already blushing. I had been so conflicted, all the attention from boys, being pursued by upperclassmen... it had all been so exciting. I had come very close to breaking up with Danny those first few weeks. My mother had known, must have known. She had sent me a care package, including a pack of pictures I'd left behind. Her note had said he had been by everyday, helping out with the house, visiting with Dad, how good his parents were to us. My family's situation had been particularly precarious at that time. I knew my mom was struggling; needed any and all the help she could get. I understood the message I was being sent. I had hid myself in oversized hoodies and got to work.
Rebekah was staring at me, her eyes wet, almost as if she might cry.
"Dumb as a stump," I quipped.
"Ughhh, I'm sorry I told you that."
"Don't be."
I didn't say any more because Rebekah had bared her teeth, her jaw hinging open and head tipping back, a single stretched out "Ahhhhhhhhhh...." boiling out of her. She was cumming, and Ali was frantic, holding her up and sucking loudly at her sex.
I came watching Ali lick and suck Rebekah clean, while Rebekah jerked and shivered.
The captain's warning to buckle seat belts came after what felt like a fall, as if the whole plane hit a pocket of vacuum and had dropped a few feet straight down and bounced off something hard. Passengers cried out and then there was some nervous laughter, bordering on the hysterical. I've never been afraid to fly, but as the whole cabin began to shake and shudder loudly, I tightened my seat belt and clutched at the arm rests. My knuckles were white. Looking at them, I tried to force my mind back again to that magical Sunday morning.
I had taken Ali and Rebekah to Rosemary's in the West Village. The three of us had laughed and gossiped and caught up. Rebekah, who had shared little more than generalities with the group at dinner the night before, was more open once it was just the three of us - and maybe she was trying to impress Ali.
Ali, meanwhile, who had been sitting at the far end of the table had missed most of what Rebekah and I had discussed, and vice versa. It was a fast and funny, and unguarded discussion - Claire would have loved it.
Ali had grabbed a Sunday paper from the hotel lobby, and so I showed them the Style section, which had come out much better than I'd even dared to hope.
"Oh my god, did you design that?!" a girl from the next table asked, surprising me.
"Some of it?" I told her doubtfully, a little taken aback by the intrusion - but she looked so genuinely excited. "They based the spread on the interactive stuff online. That was my layout..."
"That's the best part!" she said, then turning to Rebekah and Ali, she continued, "Seriously! Everyone at work was looking at this on Friday, it's so fucking cool!"
"I want you to follow me around for the rest of the week saying that!" I told her. "Can you come to work with me tomorrow?!"
"I totally will! I love Zaha! But the 'histogram' thingy was awesome! I had no idea about her early work with Koolhaas! You are really amazing-"
"Oh my gosh, remind me how much I owe you again?" I joked, pretending to reach for my purse, which made everyone at both tables laugh. "My friends are going to think I'm a rockstar now," I told her. "And it's all your fault!"
"You are," she insisted. "They totally should!"
And they did. Rebekah and Ali were both clearly wowed.
"You should have been at this conference this week," Ali told me.
"You should have presented at this conference," Rebekah said, making me huff.
"Don't scoff Sarah," she said seriously. "Have you done any talks about what you do, about InfoPorn?"
"No!" I said horrified, picturing it. That was Keith's thing. I hated the idea of public speaking.
"We need to change that," Rebekah said seriously. "You need to put together a deck of images and... you should come to SF... I'm going to talk to Zach about it."
I won't lie, this was all fun and a wonderful ego boost. But I had mostly shown Ali and Rebekah the spread so I could dish on Kathy and Jen. The girl had interrupted before I had a chance, thank goodness, being overheard had shocked me. Those women could have easily been friends of Jen or Kathy. New York is the biggest small town, I'd reminded myself.
As it was, Ali, perhaps sensing my discomfort and mistaking it for humility, had changed the subject by asking me questions about Claire.
I found a selfie I'd taken of us laying on the grass along the Hudson - our first "date". She wasn't in makeup. She looked fresh and happy. I showed the phone to Ali, who handed it to Rebekah.
