Hi there! Becca is back.
I'm putting this one back in the Mature category, but it could also fit in Loving Wives, or even Group Sex.
This storyline was one of my earlier efforts, and I left it a bit unresolved. For that I apologize. I hope this one works, and you enjoy reading it.
When you're done, please send me some feedback, and cast your votes.
Thanks again.
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We had a lovely flight back home from Vegas. The airline gods even blessed our union with a free upgrade to the first class cabin, which allowed us to stretch out and be comfortable.
My darling wife...that was going to get some getting used to, the 'wife' bit... took getting comfortable to new levels. We were barely off the ground before she made a restroom visit, and came back with a sly little grin on her face. Becca was a never ending surprise, and as she took her seat beside me, she pressed something into my hand. Something she had hidden under her arm. Something fabric.
I cautiously peeked at the item...actually, two items...and found her panties and bra. She pretended not to see me glance at her, but the smirk told me otherwise.
"You do realize, it's going to be difficult to sneak into that bathroom together, given all these people facing that direction, and the fact it's only twenty feet away?" I whispered into her ear.
"Yes, I do. If it comes to that, I suggest we walk to the back restroom. I just wanted you to know that my pussy is wet, open, and uncovered under my skirt," she smiled, whispering back. "My nipples are quite hard, as well."
Yes. That much I could see, as her thimble-like nubs poked at her blouse. She lifted the armrest between us, and leaned into my side, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. She pressed my hand against the side of her breast, and sighed contentedly.
The flight was not really long enough for any extracurriculars anyway, but we cuddled, and I fondled her covertly, until the plane began its approach.
When the stewardess made her rounds, asking everyone to prepare for landing, Becca had her hand on my crotch, softly caressing the bulge she had caused. My own hand was full of her left breast, over her blouse. The stewardess didn't even bat an eye. I suppose it wasn't the first time she had seen similar activities.
"We're about to land," she smiled, her gaze flicking across the two of us. "Could you please return your seats to their upright position, and put the armrest back down?"
"Of course," Becca nodded, and quite openly gave my crotch a parting pat. She continued to explain, "we just got married, and I can't keep my hands off him."
"I think he feels the same way about you," the blonde giggled, winking at me. My hand hadn't relinquished it's grip on Becca's breast, but did as she sat up. "Congratulations to both of you!" she smiled, then whispered something I didn't hear into Becca's ear. They both laughed
"Oh yes, that's for sure," Becca smiled brightly, "and thank you."
I let my curiosity go unsatisfied for as long as I could. We landed, taxied, and parked, while I stewed. As we were walking along the jetway, heading into the terminal, I had to ask.
"What did she say?" I begged. Becca looked around, and pulled me off to the side as we entered to terminal. She leaned back against the wall, and put her arms around my neck.
"She said I should have fun, and that you looked like you could show a girl a good time," Becca smiled, and pulled me in for a scorching kiss that lasted for quite a while. "She was right. I can't wait until we get home. Do you think we can find some place here for a quick one?"
"Somehow, I doubt it," I replied, looking at the hundreds of people milling about around us, and that was just this gate. "Let's go get our luggage, and get home as fast as we can." Becca bit her lip and nodded.
"God, I am so horny," she hissed, taking my hand as we weaved through the crowd on the way to the baggage claim. "I'm dripping, honey, and as you may recall, my panties are in my purse. The breeze on my wet lips is making it worse."
And, that picture is making it harder for me to walk, baby
, I thought.
I'd love nothing more than to bury my face in your sodden gash for a few minutes, then fuck the shit out of you. If I thought we'd get away unarrested, I would do it right here, with an audience.
We waited for our luggage, with her burrowing into my chest. It was cute. She was a middle aged woman, acting like a horny teenager...and she was all mine, with the possible exception of time spent sharing her with playmates of our mutual consent. I would never forget the image of her writhing under the attentions of both Milan and Vanessa, just a day or so ago.
At last, our bags appeared, and I extricated myself from my wife's embrace to retrieve them. Becca bolted to the restroom, and I had everything ready to go when she returned.
"I needed a wipe," she giggled. "It was running down my leg. I put my undies back on, so I won't make a puddle while we're in the taxi."
I smiled, and pushed our cart full of luggage outside. We actually had one more bag coming home than we did going out, as Milan had given Becca several dresses, most of which I hadn't seen yet. I was looking forward to a fashion show at some point in the future.
The first taxi in line rolled up, and we tossed our bags inside, then took our seats for the twenty minute ride home. The driver was the loquacious type, chatting away, and Becca was happy to join in, telling him about our trip, and how happy we were to be home. She gave him the sanitized version of things, of course, leaving out all the sexual adventures, but I got the feeling she would have been happy to let him know the whole story. 'Horny' can be as judgement impairing as alcohol at times.
As the taxi disappeared down the street, I unlocked 'our' front door, and dragged the bags inside. Becca was rubbing off on me, so I pulled the luggage directly into the bedroom, and opened the windows. She always likes to open up everything when she gets home, to air the place out, and I did the same, sliding the glass doors open in the dining room. I suddenly realized that I didn't see, or hear, my wife.
"Becca?" I called, beginning my search. I walked past the front hall, and the door was still open.
My darling was standing on the front step, waiting quietly her hands behind her back. She was smiling, and rocking up and down on her toes. She didn't say a word.
"Oh yeah!" I grimaced, as the light bulb finally went off. "Sorry, honey. I'm new at this married thing."
"No apology necessary," she giggled, lifting her arm, and allowing me to scoop her up into my arms for the traditional threshold carry. "I think you know where I'd like to go."
"Right. The kitchen..." I laughed, kicking the door closed. She flicked the deadbolt on.
