Sex On A Plane - Sex Stories

Sex On A Plane

... bone, over her boobs and hips down to her knees. My gaze darted back up to her face. She appeared to be waiting for a response. Oh, shit! She asked me question! I fought desperately for an answer to a question I did not hear. "I said, can I have the window seat?" she asked, apparently again, and looking slightly more irritated than before. Sweet Mother of God, she had an Australian accent. As I live and breath... "Uh-uh, yeah. Sure," I said, probably smoothly, but I don't remember. I started to get up to let her in, but she was in a rush to get out of the isle and let the growing line of passengers take their seat. She lifted her leg and gently stepped over me, and I attempted to carefully watch her with out her noticing me. I succeeded in getting a small glimmer of her shorts. Black, tight, probably some sort of work out shorts. Whatever it was, it turned me on. As she side stepped to her seat, I also got a hint of the shape of her ass. She was fit, obviously cared about her body, and it had me going. I crossed my legs to hide the growing tension in my shorts. A shiver ran down my spine. Nearing the end of the line of passengers, the flight attendant told us all that the flight was relatively empty, and we would have space to stretch out in our seats. That was amazing news to me. I looked over to she how the girl was reacting to the news. She only stared out the window, clutching her purse in her lap. I took the opportunity to use the seat between us to place my variety of ...

... electronic devices. Really a metaphor for my life, but I digress. I buckled myself back in my seat and felt the plane lurch backward. The lights from the nighttime runway streaked past her window. She stared at them intensely, seemingly mesmerized; obviously pondering some life event, questions about the universe, or perhaps how good I was in bed. Or maybe not, who knows. Either way, the plane left the ground, and her grip on the arm rest loosened. I day dreamed that she was squeezing my hand instead. I ran through a thousand different conversations I could start with her, but was having trouble working up the courage to speak. I realized after some time that I was looking directly at her, then looking away, then looking back, then away. Then I realized that she was looking at me, with an eyebrow raised. "I um... so, what are you doing in Sydney?" I stammered. "I live there," Her words rolled off her tongue in much the same way rapids roll of rocks. She pulled her glasses off and tucked them into her purse. "Oh, cool. That makes sense." I knew I had to keep the conversation going. I couldn't keep my mind off her. "Do you work?" I asked. "Yeah," She answered lazily. "What do you do?" "I'm a legal consultant." Her gaze went back to the window. "You don't seem to excited about it." She looked back at me, frowning. "Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to, like, stir anything up." "I'm just not looking forward to being home," she seemed sad, and I really, really meant to seem ...