The Flight - Sex Stories

The Flight

... certainly unprepared to clean up.

The fingers continued. The woman murmured as if in her sleep and shifted, exposing even more of her breasts. Another button pulled apart. She ”adjusted” her blanket sleepily, which resulted in her other hand cupping one of her breasts. Unable to remove his gaze, he watched as she began to knead it, pinching her engorged nipple.

His cock throbbed and threatened to shoot its load. The fingers gave him a brief break, allowing the peak pressure to pass, and then resumed.

Holy shit, he thought, and gave in to the pleasurable sensations. He watched her other hand play with her nipples, pulling and pinching them until they were as big and round as large pencil erasers.

The stewardess reappeared, once again scaring the living daylights out of him. “How are you feeling, sir? You look a little peaked.” She inquired, and honest to god she leaned down close, her own breasts inches from Kevin's face and placed her hand on his face as if checking for a fever.

“Well, thank goodness you don't have a fever,” she said. And then she slid her hand down the blanket and over his cock, lightly following the woman's fingers under the blanket. He felt light-headed with pent up sexual tension. The stewardess slowly removed her hand, also brushing the woman's breasts as ...

... she stood, and then she turned to the other row of seats and bent over some as she inquired to the other passengers’ needs. The view into Kevin's row was completely blocked.

Quick as a wink, the woman lifted the blanket, leaned over and slid her red lips over his swollen member, sucking hard. Unable to stop himself, Kevin came, sending stream after stream of hot cum into the wet, sensuous, eager mouth. She swallowed repeatedly as his jizz filled her mouth again and again.

Finally Kevin was spent, and she licked the last drops off of his tip and settled him back into his trousers, zipping him up and sitting back up just as the stewardess straightened up and attended to other passengers.

Before moving away too far, the stewardess turned back to the woman, leaned down, and wiped a small trickle of semen from her chin with a kleenex. The woman smiled a thank you and licked her lips, turning on her reading light and returning to her book.

Kevin slept off and on for the remainder of the flight, having little to no interaction with either of the two women.

But later, as he was tidying up in the airport restroom, he found a piece of paper folded neatly, tucked into his pocket. It read, in flowing but easy-to-read script, “The Beaumont, Mayfair, cocktail lounge. This Saturday. 7 p.m. xxoo”