For all those who requested more of this story, be assured I wasn't ignoring you. Just busy with others, and a bit stuck on where to go with Grace and Brian.
I thank everyone for reading my work, and welcome your thoughts when you finish.
I hope you enjoy it.
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The day of our departure arrived. About six boxes of my stuff would be sent by my parents to our new address, but I had two suitcases in tow as we headed for the airport.
We got to the airport early enough that we could check-in, and take advantage of any upgrade opportunities that might be available. We were in luck, and Grace got us two seats in the first class cabin for the nearly five hour flight. At least we'd be comfortable.
Mom and Dad took us to lunch before we went through security. It was a good meal, but there were tears, and awkward silences. It ended with hugs all around, including one between Mom and Grace.
"I promise to take good care of him," Grace said, tearing up herself in sympathy. "Call us anytime."
We passed through security, gave a final wave to Mom and Dad, then walked slowly to our gate, arm in arm. I could feel Grace relax, the tension melting away, and she gave me several happy little smiles as we sauntered along. We were 'us' now, our life together truly beginning.
She leaned against me, with my arm wrapped around her, while we awaited our boarding call. I noticed that as the stress left her, the playful sexiness returned. She quite casually pressed my hand against the side of her breast, laying her hand over mine to keep it in place. When I wiggled my fingers slightly, she smiled and moaned softly.
"I'm horny," she whispered, as she turned her head for a kiss. "Ever done it on a plane?"
"No," I smiled, "but I've never been on a plane with you. Are we going to get arrested?"
"As long as we get to share a cell, I'd be fine with that," she giggled, pressing her hand firmly over mine, encouraging me to squeeze her breast.
We sat, cuddled together, until our flight was called, then I reluctantly released my grip on her, and followed her down the jet way. At the inevitable traffic snarl just outside the plane door, I pressed close behind her, palming her ass through her light, summer dress. She sighed, and leaned her head back against my shoulder.
"Oh baby, we're going to need to do something, or it's going to be a long, long flight," she whispered. "I'm so hot right now."
I stirred the pot as we shuffled ahead, maintaining the contact between my left hand and her firm ass, caressing the resilient, muscular flesh, for as long as possible. Our seats were in row four, so as we passed the first seated passengers, I moved my hand around to her hip, a more casual but equally effective grope.
"You take the window," she smiled as we reached our row, and stepped aside, allowing me to dart in and sit. "You'll enjoy the view." A nasty, crooked little grin appeared on her face as she said it.
She reached up with both hands to adjust her bag in the overhead compartment, staring into my eyes as she did.
Oh my. You minx.
The neckline of her dress was a wide scoop, already revealing a titillating display of cleavage and billowing curves. Raising her arms overhead, she stretched the elastic, peasant-style bodice to the max, and another couple of inches of delectable flesh spilled into view. Then she intentionality wrestled her bag into position, shaking and swaying those magnificent boobs at me. She was right : if we didn't get to do 'something', it was going to be a long, long flight...especially with a stiff cock crowding my pants.
Satisfied she had sent her message, she smiled, and plunked down beside me, landing harder than necessary, and giving those tits one more bounce for my appreciative gaze.
"The view will be over there," she giggled, turning my chin away from gawking at her breasts, and toward the small window beside me.
"Not the one I'm interested in," I whispered back. "No mountains out there for hours," I gestured out the window, "so I'll just check out these ones."
"Down boy," she patted my leg, dangerously close to my throbbing shaft. "Let's at least get airborne before we go crazy."
Right. Put your seatback in the upright position, and take your cock out of your future wife. For now, anyway.
Within minutes, we were climbing to our cruising altitude, while Grace leaned against me, with my arm wrapped around her shoulders. She was intertwining her fingers with mine, and I was watching her breasts jiggle with the minor turbulence we were passing through. We chatted a bit about the contents of the Skymall magazine, browsing the gadgets, gizmos, and goodies. The stewardess served us a drink, and snack item, but my mind was stuck on another snack I wanted to taste.
About an hour into the flight, she turned to me, and smiled.
"I'm going to, um, stretch my legs," she whispered, clutching my hand. "Give me five minutes, then follow me." A conspiratorial wink, and she stood, walking toward the back of the plane.
Oh boy,
I thought.
This is gonna be fun. Maybe I should use the restroom before we 'use' the restroom.
The first class lavatory was open, so I took advantage, walking forward and closing the door behind me. A few minutes later, bladder relieved, I made my way back to join Grace.
When I reached the aft galley / restroom area, there was no one in sight. I was glad there were no crew or passengers to see us, but wondered which of the three lavatories Grace was in. I didn't need to wait long to find out.
The third door opened, and a cute redhead stepped out. She smiled, and stepped aside, assuming I was waiting to use it. I watched her walk away, until I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I saw Grace's hand, finger beckoning me closer, from the middle door. She opened wider, and let me in, locking the door behind me.
"Alone at last," she sighed, and pulled me to her lips for a scalding kiss.
Airline restrooms have never been spacious, but it seems like they have become smaller recently. Maybe designers were trying to discourage the behaviour we were about to commence. They'd have to try again, because Grace was sitting on the toilet, sucking my cock gently, coaxing it to full hardness. Sure, it was like trying to get it on in a phone booth, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and we were desperately horny.
