Sexy Short Stories to Titillate your Tuesday
Story #3 In Flight – Part II
…Continued from Part I…
“Oh, so apparently I’m not the first person you’ve seduced en route…I mean, well, I didn’t exactly mean…”
“Am I seducing you?”
“Sorry, I guess that was the beer talking, or wishful thinking,” he stammered.
“Okay, so let’s say I am. Are you game?”
Russell had to think. He didn’t know why, but he just did. This is part of my problem, he thought to himself. I think too much. Shit.
Excusing himself, he rose, the Molson Canadian making for a hasty escape. Andie stood too, while Russell edged past her. Their bodies made a point of making contact, sending sparks of electricity through his loins. He wondered if the same was happening to her.
He made his way past a cranky elderly woman two seats behind them and a fussy child in 21B, to queue for the lavatory. A man wearing a pale blue turban began talking almost immediately, about the weather and the recent US election. It was going to be a long wait.
The vacant sign illuminated and a sinister looking guy with dark hair and a long, black beard, walked out. Russell’s eyes followed the man to his seat where a pretty young woman sat bouncing a laughing baby on her lap. His eyes moved from the family to the top of Andie’s auburn hair, barely visible above the red and blue patterned seat back. He considered for a moment her bone structure, her fine features, those silky legs. This was a traveling guy’s dream come true, to be seated next to a beautiful woman, especially one who was clearly interested in him. He couldn’t believe his luck. But he wasn’t used to such come-ons, and found he was at a loss for how to ‘man up’ so to speak. He had sort of manned up since he had first laid eyes on Andie, his organ stiff and throbbing. Was it her forwardness or her striking beauty that threw him off his game? But who was he kidding? He never had a game. Russell was a simple kind of guy expecting a simple kind of woman to carry him through the stages of a ‘normal’ relationship, through marriage and children and personal growth, as their bodies shifted from limber and taut to flabby, worn and wrinkled, their minds slowly dissipating until finally their memory dissolved into nothingness. Russell shook his head, trying to rid himself of the awful picture he was painting in his head. Why did he think life was expected to be that way? Why?
Finally Russell returned to his seat, sliding as he should in between rumpled coats and magnificent magazine-covered legs.
“So tell me,” Andie said, looking up at him as if he hadn’t been away. “Have you ever had sex on an airplane?”
Russell’s mind began racing again, but this time in an entirely different direction. What was this woman up to? Any man would want to morph into him right now, knowing full well that getting laid was a no-brainer. He could become a full-fledged member of the mile-high club, whatever the fuck that meant. Actually fuck was the point, wasn’t it?
She was squeezing lime into her drink. She sucked on her fingers to avoid getting lime juice on her suit. It would stain. Her lips were wet, dripping. He wanted to lick them for her, like a puppy. He was getting used to her frankness, and he was thinking he should play, could play this little game too.
“No, I haven’t actually had sex on an airplane. Have you?”
“Hmmm,” she teased, running her tongue around her lips in slow motion.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, trying desperately to come up with a plan. Two can play at this game, he thought, but shoes really did tell a lot about a person, and his Clarks slept peacefully underneath his seat, too shy to emerge. He shoved them further back until they hit the feet of the person behind him.
She stared at him long and hard, her eyes penetrating. Her knee itched to peel back the layers of fabric protecting his skin from hers, her hands, resting gently on her magazine, yearned to reach up and dig deep into the thickness of his lofty curls. Just then the cabin bell chimed. A voice came over the loud speaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin our descent into New York’s JFK International Airport in fifteen minutes. The captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign. At this time, we would like to remind you to return to your seats and ensure that your seat belts are securely fastened and your seat backs and tray tables are returned to their full, up-right position for landing. If you are still enjoying our in-flight service, please, finish up as quickly as possible so that our flight attendants can come around and collect headsets and any garbage you may have.”
Andie’s eyes bore into him.
“We would like to take this opportunity…” the voice droned on…
Russell stared back, a piercing gaze, sweaty palms. Two can play at this game, he repeated to himself. They didn’t touch, except their knees, still warm against each other. But keeping their hands-off was causing a big stir inside.
“Now, please sit back and enjoy the remainder of our flight. And again, thank you for flying with United.”
He leaned closer, his face nearing the nape of her neck, his warm breath teasing, and picked up something that rested on the outside arm of her seat. A soiled napkin. He waved it around as if he surrendered, dropped it into the stack of empty plastic cocktail cups waiting for pick-up on her still open tray table. He remained there, leaning over her warmth. Just feeling her close to him made his flesh quiver. He wondered if she could tell, if she could see his erection. Andie didn’t move, nor speak. Russell’s heart was racing, and he felt sure she could sense it. Breathing was hot and quickened, and he was stuck there, hovering over her like a helicopter waiting to either pounce on its target or return to base. The want, the need to stroke her cleavage, bury his face into the depth of her bosom was almost too much for him. Heady perfume tempted his mouth toward her neck, ready to lunge at her, vampire to blood. Oh, yes, he would suck – suck until her tender skin was red and tingling with gratification, until she cried out for more. She would be at his mercy then, letting him rip open her blouse, pull down that lacy bra, take the fullness of her breasts into his mouth and suckle, while he undid her skirt and slipped it down over her shapely hips. She would help him, unable to resist his desperate manhood. Climbing on top of her, he would take her, right there in her seat, thrusting his muscle into her moistness, satisfying their burning desire. With an urgent yet gentle touch, Russell would finally feed her insatiable longing.
The plane began it’s descent, nosing downward heading for New York. Russell was jolted out of his moment of mental seduction. The attendant in the dark blue uniform was back. Plastic bag in tow she whisked up the empty drink cups, crumpled peanut wrappers, napkins.
“Do you mind if I hang on to this?” Andie gestured a cup with ice still in it. The attendant nodded agreeably. Russell quietly deposited his two empty beer cans into the open bag, acknowledging the pleasant attendant with a reticent smile. A baby near the back of the plane began to cry, ears aching from the pressure. The cranky old woman a few rows back began demanding attention from one of the flight attendants in a louder than normal voice.
Andie fiddled with her blouse. Unbuttoning her top button, she began flapping it back and forth. She reached her hand down to adjust her bra strap, bare breast under lace slightly exposed. She rubbed her throat.
“Are you warm?” she suddenly asked him.
Don’t stop, he thought. She brushed loose hair from her face, but it fell back again. She sucked on the ice cube from the cheap plastic cup. She fanned, fiddled, rubbed her silky moist skin. Russell watched, wanting to touch, wanting to know her inside and out. He inched closer to her again, felt his heart beating fast against her arm. Her smell – woman, with a touch of Channel and gin, drew him in once more, urging him to taste the sweet salt of her female odor, squeeze her round voluptuousness, bite those brown nipples peeking out from beneath lace until she arched up to meet his full and wanting lips. She’d spread her legs and let his tongue do the rest until she cried out, not stopping until they were both spent, collapsed in a heap of hot and exhausted bodies. Just then her hand reached up to find buttons. Closure. Cooler now. That was that.
The cabin lights dimmed. The engines bellowed. The landing gear was lowered and with all the heat and commotion the plane floated effortlessly to touchdown on the tarmac with lights that stretched straight into darkness. Andie’s gaze was now facing the seat in front of her. Eyes forward, reading about the safety features of the Boeing 737 Airbus as it taxied into the terminal. Seat belts fastened, they did not speak. Then she turned, toward the window, toward him.
“That’s my favorite airline.” She was pointing to a large 747 aircraft, its name scrawled in script along the shiny metal siding.
“They have the best food and the best in-flight service of all the long-haul carriers.” She said this with an air of confidence. He stared at her. Her gaze remained fixed on the huge craft.
Their plane lurched ever so slightly. The cabin lights came on and a flurry of activity ensued. People, luggage, coats, cell phones, all eager to disembark. They remained in their seats. Side by side. Andie turned, reached across his lap.
“Excuse me,” as she grabbed her jacket, still resting on the seat by the window. She pulled it toward her, brushing lightly against his chest. “Thanks.” She smiled, too close to his face for comfort.
Eventually they too had to disembark. Bags re-claimed from overhead bins, coats helped on, perfunctory, without words, without touch. They left the aircraft in an orderly fashion, despite their better judgment. They approached the front of the plane, the weighty door now open. Ramp-way to New York City.
As they reached the cockpit, several flight attendants were gathered around to bid farewell to the passengers. It was customary. The pilots could be seen through the cockpit door, half ajar. They had landed. It was safe. The crew was laughing, patting each other on the back. A job well done. Yes, it had been a safe flight. Very safe.
“Can I give you my number?” Andie whispered into his ear as they stood in line to exit. Time was of the essence. She snatched a pen from the flight attendant’s station at the exit door and scrawled a number on a napkin. Clean, unused, she stuffed the napkin affectionately into his breast pocket with a pat.
Russell thanked the woman in the dark blue uniform that had served them during the flight.
“Have a great stay in New York,” she said to him. She smiled. It was her job to smile. Andie passed the line of cheery attendants, catching their glances.
“Bye Andie, honey,” said one of the flight attendants from First Class. “See you on the Miami flight. Friday isn’t it?” There was a pause as the crowd started pushing forward.
“Hey, what’s the hold-up? Some of us have planes to catch,” cried an irate passenger from the back of the line.
“Okay Shirley, see you Friday,” answered Andie, avoiding more than just the courtesy. She moved down the aisle.
“Hey Andie, nice to see you taking a day off for a change,” said the co-pilot in the cockpit doorway as she passed by.
“Yeah, long overdue. See ya next week, eh?” He blew her a kiss. Russell was dumbstruck.
“Well, Andie,” he said glancing over at her. “I believe you have some explaining to do. That is your name, isn’t it? Andie?”
Andie was looking straight ahead, seemingly unfazed by the situation or by Russell’s feelings. Single file they strode up the jet bridge into the bustling glare of Terminal 3. Then she turned to him.
“Yes, yes Russell, I do owe you an explanation. Have you got time? I don’t know about you but I’m famished.”
Russell smiled, not waiting, not thinking, he grabbed her hand and they walked, side by side, into one of the busiest airports in the world.