Sneak Peek
I pay attention, of course, but think nothing of it. Every passenger on every plane has their quirks. But then I lay eyes on the redhead who’s all curves and pouty lips, pale cheeks flushed from running to board the aircraft, and her pupils are blown to black. She’s breathless and on the phone as she enters and my cock instantly responds, stirred by the sight of her.
Bea’s a nervous little thing, or maybe she just doesn’t like flying and I muse that I might have to help the poor thing relax. No, not might. It’s a long flight and I make a promise I’ll be balls deep inside of the beauty before the plane lands.
But it seems the passenger has her own means for unwinding.
This time she didn’t even bother with the bathrooms. I could see her from the galley, the evidence of pleasure that she bathed in, the desperation for something against that eager pussy that I just knew she was desperate to have filled.
And she had a toy. Naughty girl.
The poor thing was so aroused she could scarcely order her drink and I knew that look, the look of longing and need too long compressed.
Well, who was I to deny a beautiful woman relief?
Of course, that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to have some fun beforehand.
“Sue, will you take over my aisles for me?” I queried. “I think Miss Nixon needs some help.”
Sue snorted, “That one needs a lot more than help, but sure.”
I couldn’t disagree with that, “Thank you.”
She mumbled something, but I was already walking towards Miss Nixon with full intent to ruin the very crest of her orgasm and leave her in a state of complete disarray.
Which leads us to this moment. The moment I know Bea has convinced herself she’s in a world of trouble. The plane is a 747 Airbus, one of the last of its kind in an age where airplanes like this are considered too large. It’s a damn shame, because it provides plenty of places to . . .play.
I can feel the tension rolling off of Bea in waves as she follows me meekly up a small set of stairs to the second level where there are fewer passengers and most of my crew members are scarce. The toilets are still cramped, but considerably more spacious than others and I open the door to gesture for a very confused Bea to enter.
“I don’t understand,” she says.
“You don’t need to,” I respond.
“But. . .” oh, she likes to question a lot. We’ll work on that.
I hold up the remote, thumb dialing the intensity of the vibrating egg to maximum.
Bea doesn’t expect it. In fact, for a moment the redhead’s shock is almost comical as the sensation hits her with full force. Her green eyes roll back in her head and she doubles over, gasping before biting back a low moan. I stand before her, smile dark as I slowly dial it back.
“You were saying?”
When she steps into the bathroom, I follow her, expression darkening in faux disapproval. We’re so close that I can hear the shortness of her breaths, feel the warmth of her body, and maybe it’s my imagination but I can smell the slight evidence of her arousal. It causes the stiffness of my own to strain against the material of panties that won’t be able to hold back the fury of its thickness for long.
“You’ve been a very, very naughty girl haven’t you Ms. Nixon?” I rasp and her eyes widen even more, but the question is rhetorical and I don’t give her time to answer as I grasp her hips to spin her around to face the mirror.