It was not only my first business trip but my first airplane flight ever. I was on my way to An Francisco, a place everyone raves about, but that wasn't foremost on my mind. I was petrified! Fortunately, I sat next to an older man, a man of about fifty, who calmed me down in a very unusual way. He talked to me, but the story he told me left me fascinated and wanting to hear more.
His name was Carl. He wasn't what I would call
handsome
, but he was interesting looking. His face was tan and craggy, you know, filled with deep lines created by a wonderful and constant smile. The plane we were on was one of those types that had two seats on each aisle and three in the middle, and it was my luck to sit next to him in one of the two seat aisles. I guess he noticed my white knuckles gripping the arm rest because he said, "Relax. When we get airborne I'll buy you a drink and the next thing you'll know you won't even be thinking about flying. Gin and tonic, right?"
I was too afraid to even look at him, and I didn't want to tell him that I had rarely had any alcohol, so I mumbled, "Gin and...and..."
"Gin and tonic," he laughed. "It's the best for flying. Tastes good and goes down easy. Trust me."
I did. I
trusted
him.
Well, after we were airborne for a while the flight attendants came by and he ordered two gins and tonics. He didn't push me to converse, but casually asked me a few questions like
what do you do for a living
,
are you married
,
where do you live
and so on.
When I asked him what he did for a living, he leaned back and gave me an enigmatic smile. "Well, I'm a free lance photographer with a couple of specialties. Do you know glamour photos?"
I nodded. I've seen a few of my friends' photos. I had to sneak looks, of course, because my husband would have frowned on the idea of a woman posing in a sensual manner.
"Well, I specialize in those except...um...I shoot my subjects in the nude."
The alcohol was already getting to me. I gasped and giggled. "In the
nude
?"
"Yeah," he said. "A lot of couples like to take nude photos of each other. Just look at the Internet. But the truth is that they're pure amateurs and don't have a clue how to capture the true essence of beauty. So, for a pretty big fee, I do the shoot for them and the results, if I must say so myself, are spectacular."
He looked at the empty plastic cup on my seat tray and pushed the attendant call button. "Before I tell you my other specialty, I think you need another one of these."
"Your...other..."
"Yeah. Hold on a minute." He held up two fingers that, I guess, the attendant knew meant
two more drinks
. She appeared thirty seconds later with two more plastic cups filled with tonic water and two little bottles. I emptied my bottle into the cup and, anxious to hear the next part of his story, downed my drink in a heartbeat.
"Whoa," he laughed. "You're gonna feel
that
."
I did - about a minute after he continued to tell my about his other specialty.
"In addition to nude pictures," he said, "many couples like to film themselves...how do I say this...making love. But, again, they have no idea how to proceed and, truth be told, many of the videos they shoot are turn-offs, not turn-on's. So, I provide direction and film them."
I tried to imagine him with a camera videoing me and my husband, but, for some reason, I could only imagine him videoing me. "You provide
direction
?"
"Yes I...may I speak freely?"
I began to tremble as I imagined what kind of direction he provided, but I pretended to be only mildly interested. "Of course."
"Well, picture a woman giving a man oral sex."
I pictured it!
"Most of the time," he said, "the woman's head is videoed and she's moving up and down while looking at the camera. God, how I hate it when a woman looks at the camera when she's giving head. It gives the impression that she's really not interested in what she's doing. I, on the other hand, have the woman move slowly and slowly pan inward so as to capture, most of the time, a scene that consist only of her lips and the head of the penis. Nothing more. I'll tell her to use her tongue around the head, to caress it, to kiss it and, of course, to stroke it."
"Of course," I mumbled.
"Obviously," he said, "the stroking is performed out of camera range and has to be done so that any motion created by the stroking to the woman's head and the man's penis motion is. You don't want herky-jerky movements now, do you?"
By now I was trembling. "Certainly not," I whispered.
"What's interesting to me," Carl said, "is that a light, slow stroke often brings men to climax more rapidly than a hard, fast stroke. Anyway, when the man ejaculates, that's when I get creative."
I felt my panties getting soaked! I managed to mutter, "Creative?"
"Well, there seems to be great interest in what is referred to as
cum shots
or
facials
. I personally have a different view on this topic so..."
"Excuse me," I said. "These drinks are passing through me. I have to use the lavatory."
I stumbled my way toward the back of the plane, my temperature rising with every step until my insides were on fire. Once safely behind the closed door, I yanked my jeans to my knees and jammed four fingers into my soaking wet vagina. I was so excited about the image of someone coming on
my
face that it took me less than thirty seconds to orgasm. After I regained my breath, I composed myself and peed-yes, I really did have to pee-and then made my way back to my seat. Another gin and tonic was waiting for me.
"Where the amateurs really fail, though," Carl said, "is the videoing of anal sex. What I do is set up several cameras, one of which is designed to capture the facial expressions of the woman during the sex and the other to capture a close up image of the sex. I believe that capturing the penetration of the penis, up to and including the head of the penis, into the...um...
back there
spot... is incredibly erotic. To see the woman's face responding to the pain and the pleasure, and to see the penis slowly open the anus and disappear little by little until the woman's flesh closes around the knob, well that is quite erotic and..."
I closed my eyes and bit my lip. "Stop," I whispered. "I can't..."
I couldn't see him, but I knew Carl was watching me very intently. "Are you aroused?"