Archive-name: Affairs/airfling.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Air Fling





    This is my first posting ... I have more to share in the

future if you like this, but must post anonymously, since I am

a senior manager at a Fortune 100 company and knowledge about

my extra-curricular activities would cause the end of my

career.

    It was hot and steamy as we arrived at the airport in

Brisbane for the long journey home to Boston.  This was the end

of a month-long campervan vacation in Australia, and I, for

one, was overjoyed to be heading back to some normalcy.  For an

entire month my wife Anne (I call her "the queen") had avoided

sex in the campervan, or anywhere else for that matter, since

"the children are nearby."  - The irony of her way of thinking

will be evident shortly.

    Actually, she is not very interested in sex anytime, since

she was taught by her mother that sex was "dirty."  The only

time she ever saw her parents making love, they were fully

clothed (hike up the skirt, dear - I'll just quickly unzip.) 

Sometimes I wonder how we ever ended up with three children;

one is grown and on her own, the two boys (Ralph, 17 and

Trevor, 14) were with us on holiday.  Because I travel

regularly, I have opportunity for other sexual outlets during

the year, but four plus weeks within close quarters with a

demanding uptight woman does not give you much opportunity to

develop alternatives.

    I had some first class upgrade coupons, but at check-in

time was told there was only one seat available.  Anne

immediately volunteered because of her "potential for a bad

back," and was seated in 3A.  The boys and I were given 21K/L

and 22L.  This was aisle and window seating in the 2-5-2

configuration, and the last two rows in the second section.  I

took the single seat, and let Ralph and Trevor sit together for

the first ten-hour segment of the flight.

    An attractive woman dressed in a loose sweater and very

tight blue jeans took the seat next to me.  I could see that

Ralph was uncomfortable and maybe even a little jealous, since

he kept turning around to talk to me, but she was too old (29)

to be interested in him.  She introduced herself as Christine,

"You can call me Chrissy."  She was about five foot eight,

light brown (almost blond) long hair, a nice ass - firm and

high, breasts with an impact even through her shapeless

sweater, and obviously in good physical condition.

    Chrissy was headed for Miami to pick up her belongings from

a recent divorce; she and her husband had been working together

on private yachts for eight years, and he had developed a

cocaine habit.  When he would not seek help to end his drug

addiction, and more immediately after a close call with customs

in Australia last year, she decided then and there to split

from him, filed for divorce, stayed in Brisbane, and had just

been notified the divorce was final.  In the meantime, she had

met another guy she wanted to stay with, and was going to Miami

to settle up the property and return to her new lover.  This I

discovered during dinner conversation and over a few shared

glasses of wine.  Looking into my eyes, she confided she was

"now free and ready for some excitement."

    The movie started, the flight attendants went around the

cabin to lower all the shades, and Chrissy said, "I'd rather

talk, if it's OK with you; this movie is terrible."  I had also

seen the movie and agreed.  We spent the next two hours getting

to know each other better.  Chrissy at one point said, "You

have terrific eyes, I get really turned on by eyes."  We talked

about the kids, and when she asked if I was married and learned

about Anne in the front cabin, she thought it displayed selfish

behavior and then never mentioned my marital status again.

    By now, the boys had fallen asleep, and just before the end

of the movie, Chrissy excused herself for a few minutes,

reached into the overhead bin for her carry-on (stretched long

enough to get my mind focused on her hips and legs in those

wonderful tight jeans,) and headed to the lavatory in the

back.  When she returned, she was wearing loose-fitting

sweatpants, and when she asked if I minded if she lifted the

arm dividing the seats, I replied "Of course not!"  By now I

had an idea of what she had in mind, because she had confided

during the movie that one of her greatest turn-ons was the risk

of discovery while having sex.  "My husband was not a great

lover, but in the close confines of the boat it was always

exciting to fuck without anyone nearby knowing about it; I had

more orgasms from fucking near other people than from the sex

act itself."  As she shared this with me, she was already

visibly breathing more quickly.

    Chrissy and I arranged the blankets over both of us, now no

longer separated, and curled up like spoons in the otherwise

crowded seats.  I started to give her a back rub, slowly

working over her muscles by now cramped from the first five

hours of the flight.  She purred quietly, and after a while

squirmed her shapely ass on the seat, pushing it back into my

growing erection.  With both hands I reached around under her

loose sweater, and fondled her globes, her nipples growing

firmer under my gentle stroking.

    Chrissy reached back and with one hand released my belt,

then unbuckled and unbuttoned my pants.  I whispered in her

ear, "How do you do that?  I can't even do that with one hand,

and they're my pants."  She laughed, and said, "Years of

practice; don't worry, it gets better."  My hard-on sprang out

of my tight bikini briefs as she pulled the waistband forward,

and she whispered, "I'm glad you're not wearing boxer shorts, I

can't stand them."

    Chrissy began to stroke my cock, now slightly oozing with

its own lubrication.  She used the pre-come to help rotate her

fingers gently around the head, stroking it with ever firmer

pressure.  I withdrew my hands from under her sweater to push

my pants down further, allowing me to slip the briefs down

below my swollen balls, which she now explored with her

questing hand.  Lubricating her fingers even more with her

saliva, she alternately rubbed my balls and massaged the head

of my dick.

    My hands were now free, and I hungrily reached forward for

her erect nipples, shortly afterward sliding my right hand down

her belly and slipping it under the waistband of her

sweatpants.  She was wearing no panties underneath, and the

inside of the cotton sweats was already wet with her juices. 

As I stroked her mound, her lubrication welcomed my fingers

into her warm wet cunt.  Rubbing the juices on my fingers, I

began to circle her clitoris and then used my fingers to stroke

in and out of her pussy while my thumb pushed against her

swollen clit.  She was breathing harder now, and could not stop

moving her ass around on the seat, first bucking her soaking

cunt against my right hand, then pushing her ass back against

my cock through the sweatpants.

    Just then, the stewardess came down the aisle, paused

noticeably as she came up to our row, glared at me (me? why me?

there are two of us here, you know!), almost said something,

then apparently decided that since we were bothering nobody

else, she would keep moving.  Thank God!  While we were both

close to fully clothed at that time, there was little chance

she could do anything legally disastrous, but who needs the

embarrassment, or the hassle from the kids for that matter.

    As the stewardess left, Chrissy whispered. "She knows

exactly what we are doing, and she's jealous!  Now I want to

have your prick inside me.  I'll keep quiet, but I need you to

fuck me now."  With this, she lifted her ass off the seat and

slid her sweats down below her knees, then separated her legs

slightly and moved back so I could slide into her dripping

pussy from behind.  I moved slowly in and out as she purred and

pushed back onto my cock quietly so we would not wake our

neighbors.

    At the same time, I reached back around to stroke her

clitoris easily but steadily.  The appearance of the stewardess

had startled me, and most of the urgency for release that had

built up from her stroking my hard-on had subsided, so it was a

nice, long, easy fuck, punctuated by her spasming in orgasm

three times before my cock pressure built up to the point of no

return.  I came with the most excruciating pleasure I had felt

in my life (actually for the last month, but you know how easy

it is to lose perspective at the moment.)  I felt like I

unleashed at least a pint of come into her already dripping

cunt.  I sighed, and whispered' "Chrissy, it must have been

heaven that sent you to this seat.  You don't know how much I

needed that."

    She then turned around in the seat to sit normally, and

kissed me for the first time.  "I needed it just as much as you

did; you're a terrific fuck, but on top of that it's the danger

that makes me come so much.  Thanks for being here, I dreamed

that I'd be fucked silly on this trip.  As we kissed, I told

her about my favorite turn-on.  "What I like best is eating

pussy, but there is no room here for that.  Would you like to

go to the back of the plane with me?"

    "What do you mean?  In the lavatory?" she asked.

    "Yes.  If we are reasonably cautious we can get in there

without causing an uproar," I replied.

    "I've never done that before," Chrissy explained.

    "There's a first time for everything," I said, and moved to

pull up my pants and buckle my belt.  She thought about it for

a minute, and then said, "why not, let's try it!"  She drew up

the sweatpants and tied the drawstring (I hadn't noticed there

was one before - must not have been tied.)  Then she got up and

headed for the back of the plane, with me following directly

behind.

    She entered the first lavatory, which was vacant (good

thing the flight was long, and everybody was still asleep.)  I

slipped right in behind her before the flight attendants

noticed we were even there.  As I closed the door, she turned

and we started to kiss passionately.  She broke for a quick

query, "how do you do anything in this little space?"  As I

untied the drawstring on her sweatpants, I said, "Just lift up

and sit on the sink, and let me taste your cunt."

    Chrissy lifted, spread her legs, and I could see her cunt

lips were still swollen from her last orgasm.  I gently tongued

her outer lips, occasionally swiveling my head to nip the

insides of her thighs, but always returning to circle her clit,

and as it swelled up, suck on it gently.  There was no end to

the wetness; her own lubrication, supplemented by the enormous

load of come I had left in her pussy, dripped down both sides

of my chin onto the stainless steel sink surface and trailed

down her thighs.

    After tonguing her into a few more orgasms, I realized how

hard I was getting again, and finally stood up, sliding her ass

slightly off the surface, and drove my cock into her again

while we exchanged extremely wet but tasty kisses, flavored by

both of our juices.  Such a short time after the last fuck, and

she was sooo wet; this time it lasted at least twenty minutes,

both of us sighing and savoring the overwhelming sensations

coursing through our bodies.  Finally, after a slow buildup

that I never wanted to end, I came again, not as much this

time, but she sensed it and started bucking hard just at the

same moment.  The pleasure was so intense it was almost

painful.

    The light came on to return to the cabin, and after a few

minutes we were able to adjust ourselves to some degree of

presentability to return to our seats.  Just as we opened the

door, the same stewardess was looking right into my eyes.  She

said angrily, "Please return to your seats and stay there.  We

have some turbulence and the captain has turned on the seat

belt sign."  I couldn't help but think that maybe we were the

cause of the turbulence, but then that's just my imagination

running away with me again.

    As we settled in to the seats, Chrissy pushed the seat

divider down, saying, "I think everyone is waking up, let's not

embarrass your boys."  The breakfast service was beginning, the

cabin lights were turned on, and we were again two strangers

who happened to be sitting next to each other on the plane. 

The secret of our mile-high lovemaking was secure.

    We exchanged addresses, but with her in Brisbane and me in

Boston it's not likely we'll ever meet again.  Both of us

promised to use caution in contacting each other should the

opportunity arise, so our current SO would not be disturbed,

but also promised to get together if possible again.

    I said goodbye to Chrissy at the seat, and went forward

with the unsuspecting boys to deplane.

    As we got to the end of the ramp in the terminal, I asked

Anne, "How was your flight?"

    "Great," she replied, "one of the most relaxing ever."

    "Me too!"



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Just as an aside from your humble editor, if you manage to join

the Mile High Club, you can get a little Mile High Club pin from

"Sporty's Pilot Shop."  Call 1-800-LIFTOFF.