Flying the friendly skies... - Sex Stories

Flying the friendly skies...

... hissed. “Now siddown and behave!” That was how the flight began. And to keep from losing my temper on her mate’s behalf, I buckled up and settled in, eyes closed, to mellow out a bit as we began the slow crawl toward take off. It was going to be a long night flight. I figured they’d hoped the kids would sleep through the whole thing. And they did fall asleep. So did the wife. So when I woke and found the cabin so still, I was pleased. And I saw, when I woke, that the husband was smiling quietly my way, swaddled in one of the blankets provided, as was I. “ That’s the way to travel,” he said. Even with the kids quiet, he looked a bit tense. So I turned his way, and a button on my top opened. One button too many, that was. He blushed a bit, when he glanced at my ample cleavage. Men always do. Some of them, anyway. Others just ogle. I model. Bras and panties and things. TV, editorial. Some runway. Men can always tell. And I can always tell when they finally figure it out. I buttoned up quickly and said, “Now, I’m sorry.” He smiled, still flushed, and said, “Don’t be.” And there was something plaintive in it. Something that made me stop buttoning. In fact, I reopened the one that had come loose. And stayed there, leaning a bit his way, almost offering him a good look. I even squirmed a little bit, so that he could see a bit more. And said, “New York?” “Chicago.” “Oh. Me, too.” He was a bit unnerved, still. And I was into those eyes again. Really nice eyes. I wondered what they ...

... looked like when he made love to the wife. If they ever made love. Did he close them? Did they open wide when he came? Did she know what they looked like? Ever? I smiled at the thoughts I was having. I think that way a lot. About sex. I can’t help it. I’d rather have sex than eat or sleep or anything else. And my "appetite" was definitely making this flight a lot more interesting. He smiled innocently and said, “We got lucky. They’re knocked out. For now.” “How old are they?” He didn’t look like he wanted to talk about that. But he told me. And I said, “Busy, busy, busy, right?” “Absolutely right,” he said. And I said, “Well, I’d better let you get some rest then!” And I closed my eyes, but didn’t take his “entertainment” away. In fact, I was wide awake. Which is why I took a sneaky peek a few minutes later and saw movement under that blanket. And felt a small ache somewhere below mine. And wished he would open those eyes. So I sighed. And wriggled. And hoped. And he flushed even before he opened those eyes, knowing, probably, that I’d caught him. But I smiled. Eased over into the seat between us and waited. But he kept his eyes closed, though I thought I heard his breathing get a wee bit louder. Faster. I walked my fingers over the arm rest, paused, and then ran a finger up and down his arm. Just a touch. He would not open those eyes. But he didn’t stop me. So I leaned a little closer, and let my fingers walk under the blanket. And explore the territory there, watching his face ...