Red Eye [mf]

11:17 p.m. I had 10 minutes to make it across Atlanta International and catch my flight to San Francisco. I cinched down the straps on my backpack, confirmed my departure gate on the monitors, and took off, careful not to spill my precious coffee. Caffeine doesn't do much for me anymore, but I got decaf to be on the safe side. The flight would feel a lot shorter if I could catch a few Zs.

You never realize just how oblivious most travelers are until you're in this much of a rush. Families walking five across, taking up the whole walkway. Tourists fumbling through their bags right in front of the entrance to the escalator. Business men flicking their Blackberries and walking at a snail's pace.

I checked my watch again – 11:22. "Fuck…" I picked up the pace, weaving between travelers, dodging airport personnel in golf carts, half expecting a TSA agent to yell at me to slow down.

11:25. My terminal. 15 gates to go. 10…5…1. 11:27. I arrived slightly breathless, just in the nick of time.

A hollow, static voice came over the intercom: "Now boarding Zones 1, 2, and 3."

Fumbling though my pockets, I dug out my now-crumpled boarding pass. Zone 3. Not bad. I took a deep breath and a moment to compose myself.

Looking up, I realized a woman had joined the line behind me. Gorgeous. Early thirties. Petite, maybe 5'3", but busty in a tight fitting top. Knee length skirt, flip flops and pink painted toenails. Blond hair clearly dyed, but it matched her skin tone perfectly.

I had to stifle a caveman grunt. Women will never truly understand the raw power their bodies can have over men. We can be tired, hungry, overworked and underpaid. Hell, we could be 85 and on our deathbed. But if just such an attractive woman walks in front of us, there's only one thought on our minds: I have to fuck her. Now.

The line began to move and I shuffled forwards.

BEEP "Enjoy your flight, sir." The tone was mechanical, and I wondered how many times that gate agent must say those words each day. Hundreds, probably. That damn beeping sound must haunt his dreams.

Something strange happens to people once they step onboard an aircraft. The obliviousness they show in the airport grows exponentially. Instead of a reasonably efficient process (walk > stow luggage > sit > fasten belt), boarding a commercial plane is one of the most stunning exhibits of human incompetence. It used to frustrate me. Anger, even. Now, though, I just accept it, marvel, and imagine how big of a clusterfuck an emergency evacuation would be.

Seat 31D. Starboard side, just aft of the wing. Aisle. Not much of a view on a red eye, so no loss there, and I would probably be able to stretch out a little. I slid off my backpack and paused.

"Excuse me," I asked the blond woman behind me. "Would you mind holding my coffee for a second? I don't want to spill it all over these people while I put up my bag."

"No problem," she smiled, then looked away coquettishly.

My heart fluttered and I felt an involuntary twitch down south. I'm usually bad at picking up on these signs, but there was no doubt this bombshell was hitting on me.

"Thanks," I smiled back. Why is that so exciting? We're all Darwin's bitch.

I put up my bag and was about to take back my drink when she asked, "actually, could you stow mine, too? I can't really reach up there." Adorable.

"Sure thing." I was probably grinning like a fool. "Damn, what do you have in here?" I joked, feigning difficulty lifting her bag.

"Shoes, mostly." She actually winked at me. Who does that? It was completely disarming. "Here you go." She handed back my coffee.

I slid into my seat and started to settle in.

"Looks like we're travel buddies!" I looked up to see the blond's beaming smile as she waved her ticket in front of me. 31E. Window seat. "Mind if I… just… slip past you…" She did the awkward shuffle in front of me, her perfect ass just inches from my face and it took all my self control not to grab it.

"Kristi," she said, offering her hand as she took her seat.

"Sam," I replied, enveloping her small hand in my own. "Pleasure to meet you." The handshake lingered a moment too long.

"Where are you headed?"

"Visiting a buddy of mine in the Bay Area. You?"

"I'm actually going to Hawaii!" Her enthusiasm was intoxicating. "My cousin is having a 'destination wedding' there. Seems a little crazy to me, but I figured it was a good excuse to travel!"

"Oh, wow. That's going to be incredible. I hope you have some time to explore."

"I have a whole week. Loooots of beach time ahead of me. Work on my tan. Maybe check out some lava."

"A week in paradise…sounds a little better than the Bay. Maybe I should jump on that plane, too."

"Haha, maybe you should."

Pinch me.

Ladies and gentlemen, we're next in line. Flight crew, please prepare for takeoff.

The plane pulled onto the runway and the engines roared, pressing us back into our seats. Kristi grabbed my hand and squeezed.

"Sorry…I hate taking off. Do you mind?"

"Not a bit," I reassured her. She could hold my hand the entire flight as far as I was concerned.

The aircraft rotated and with a lurch we were airborne. The city lights streaked below us, then faded as we climbed into the night sky. We began to level out and her grip relaxed.

"Thanks," she smiled sheepishly. Rather than letting go, she held my hand in both of hers, turning it over and examining it. Strangely intimate considering we had just met. "So what do you do?"

The cabin lights dimmed and the passengers mostly settled in trying to get some sleep. We dropped our voices to a sort of whisper and leaned in closer.

"For work? I'm an engineer. Aerospace, so I work on military jets. You?"

"Is that how you got these callouses?" She asked, fingering the pads on my palm. "I'm a writer."

"No, no. That's mostly desk work. The callouses are just from projects. Gardening, carpentry, that sort of thing. What kind of writer?"

"A renaissance man. I like it. Well," she said, biting her lip, "believe it or not, I write…erotica." She seemed reluctant to say, perhaps worried it would put me off. I assure you, it had the opposite effect.

"No shit, don't hear that very often. So you're published?"

"Electronically, yeah. Much easier to get into the e-book market. Lots of bored housewives reading my smut on their Kindles, squirming in the bleachers while they sit through soccer practices." She looked at me mischievously.

"You're doing the Lord's work," I joked.

"Speaking of which, I have some research to do," she said, letting go of my hand and pulling a Kindle from her bag.

"The Bible?"

"Haha, hardly. I like to keep abreast of the competition, if you know what I mean."

"A wise business woman. Don't let me keep you from it."

Kristi kicked off her flip flops, leaned against the window, and pulled her feet up onto her seat. She wiggles her painted toes, stretched, and turned on her Kindle. With her knees drawn up against her chest, her D-cups were heaving over her low-cut blouse.

Once again, I managed to stifle a caveman grunt. Instead, I drew a deep breath, opened my own book, and tried to ignore the spectacle in my peripheral vision. Through sheer force of will I made it through the first page, though I must have read each sentence a dozen times. I picked up speed on the second page, and managed to engross myself in the third.

Then I heard a ragged sigh.

Cautiously I peered out the corner of my eye. Her face was flushed and her hard nipples were casting shadows from the overhead reading lamp. It seemed the competition was stiff in the erotica market.

I abandoned all hope of reading and placed the book in my lap to cover my growing erection.

Stealing a closer glance, her right hand was now cupping her left breast. She was completely engrossed in her book. Perhaps some buxom damsel in distress saved by the strapping farm boy. Or an unappreciated wife whose loins were set on fire when she realized she loved to be spanked. Regardless, it was working, and she was absentmindedly rubbing slow circles around her nipple with her thumb.

Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain speaking. We have Reached our cruising altitude of 33,000 feet. This is an overnight flight, so we've dimmed the cabin lights for your comfort. We'll follow up with the weather in San Francisco when we begin our descent.

The announcement broke her reverie and I was busted staring slack jawed at her glorious chest.

"How's your book?" she smirked.

"A little hard to concentrate…" I trailed off.

"Hard, definitely not little," she said, making a point to look down at my crotch.

Following her gaze, I realized my book was lifted clear off my lap.

"Oh, don't mind that," I said, trying to play it cool. "Just the altitude. Trust me, I'm an aerospace engineer." I figured this could go really poorly, or really well.

"I don't mind a bit. But if you don't mind, I think I'll get back to my reading."

She picked up her Kindle, resumed reading, then slowly spread her knees. The reading light now shined down into her skirt, illuminating her white cotton panties. The tight, thin fabric clung to her lips and a quarter-sized spot was moist with her juices. The motion of her hand caught my eye, and I looked up to see her pinch her left nipple, then slowly roll her right between her thumb and pointer finger. This was no longer absentminded – she was putting on quite a show.

At this point I began to question whether I was awake. After a moment of deliberation, though, I decided that even if I were dreaming, I didn't want to screw it up. So I kept my eyes open and my mouth shut.

Her hand traced the low-cut collar of her shirt, sensuously trailing a fingernail across her chest and into the canyon between her tits. Her eyes, fixated on the words on the screen, flitted back and forth like a typewriter. Her breathing quickened and I watched the rise and fall of her chest. She licked her lips and they glistened with the sheen of her saliva.

Her hand migrated down her belly and to the hiked-up hem of her skirt. She followed its edge from the outside of her right thigh to the inside.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and my cock straining against my pants.

With her bare left foot, she raised the armrest between our seats, then placed it on my thigh. She slid down slightly, allowing her to push her pelvis forward and spread her legs wider.

Her fingertips lazily traced circles, moving up the smooth skin of her inner thigh, and paused when they touched cotton. My cock was throbbing with anticipation. She pressed her pointer and middle fingers against her hole, then brought them up to her clit. When she moved her hand away, the circle of moisture had grown and the wetness from the whole length of her pussy was now imprinted. She did it once more, pressing more firmly, and her panties were soaked through.

With a flick of her toes she knocked the book from my lap to the floor, revealing a tent that would have accommodated a three ring circus. Embarrassed, I quickly glanced around the cabin, but everyone was out cold.

Her foot began massaging my cock through my pants as her hand started rubbing her clit through her panties. Somehow, despite these acrobatics, her eyes remained glued to the screen.

She peeled her panties to one side revealing a perfectly trimmed landing strip. Her lips were shaved smooth and wet, her clit engorged. A sweet little pink button. She teased her hole with her fingertips and a trickle of juices ran out. She slowly worked her middle finger inside until her palm heel was grinding against her clit. Then, with some difficulty, she fit her pointer finger in as well. Clearly she had an incredibly tight pussy.

She picked up the pace, fingering herself hard enough to produce wet slapping sounds that were just audible over the dull roar of the airplane. Her hips rocked in sync. More ragged breaths. Flushed face and just a glow of perspiration on her forehead. Small shudders and leg twitches. She was close.

Suddenly her eyes clamped shut and she drew a quick breath. This bombshell, Kristi, who I had met only an hour earlier, was now orgasming right next to me. She worked her pussy at a furious pace and somehow managed to keep up the foot job. And then slowly, slowly it subsided. One last shudder and it was over. She opened her eyes sleepily.

"Good read," she smiled, contented.

"I'll put it on my lust…list," I gulped.

Pulling back her foot, she once again stared at my crotch.

"I know you're the expert, but I don't think it's the altitude. We're going to have to do something about that."

She sat up, straightened out her blouse and skirt, then made a beeline for my fly. I couldn't find the words to protest, and frankly it was a dream come true. She placed a hand on each of my thighs and kissed my tip through my pants. With her mouth still on it, she exhaled a long breath. I was briefly puzzled, then felt a flood of hot air come through the fabric and envelop my cock. For an instant it felt as though I were in her mouth, then it suddenly cooled. The contrast sent a shiver up my spine.

With a loud click, she unfastened my seatbelt, dropping it to my seat. My anticipation grew, and I could barely contain my excitement when she undid my belt and sensuously unzipped my pants. She reached in and we both gasped when she grabbed me. She popped it out of my pants and stared at it wide-eyed.

"Wow…" she said, looking up at me.

My thick, 8" cock looked enormous in her petite hand, just in front of her face.

"Let's see if this fits."

With one smooth motion, she opened her mouth wide, then took me in as far as she could take me. No teeth, just pure, hot smooth satin. Clearly this wasn't her first rodeo. Once she bottomed out there was a 2" gap between her hand at the base and her mouth at the tip, and I never felt like more of a stud.

And then she started working her tongue, and I never knew anything could feel that good. I've fucked more than my fair share of women in any hole they'd let me, and nothing compared to the sensations Kristi was giving me. I couldn't even tell the source. Her saliva-slicked hand, the cavern of her mouth, her tastebud textured tongue. It didn't matter. She was a goddess of sex, and I was her plaything.

Her soft, warm tits were pressed up against my leg, and her smooth blond hair washed across the tops of my thighs. She constantly varied her techniques so nothing got desensitized. Licking, stroking, sucking, swirling. My balls felt heavy and full, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer.

She sensed the change in my breathing and the tension in my body and slowed to prolong the process. She pulled her mouth off with a pop and slowly stroked my cock.

"I'm going to have to take this beast for a ride. Feel like changing your travel plans?"

"Hawaii?" I stammered. "I think that could be arranged." Whoever came up with 'bros before hos' clearly never met this woman.

She smiled and picked up the pace of her stroking, then started flicking her tongue across the most sensitive part of my cock, just under the tip. How she found that spot, I'll never know, but it was like she hit my Big O button. With a deep grunt I started spouting like a geyser. I pumped thick strings of cum into the air and they splashed down across her face. Yet she never broke eye contact. She just kept stroking and licking until the last drops dribbled out.

At that moment a stewardess walked by.

"Excuse me, could I have a moist towelettes?" said Kristi, looking up at the woman with my cock in her hand and my cum covering her face.

The scandalized woman gasped, tossed a couple packets at us, and practically ran down the aisle.

Kristi opened the packets and wiped the cum from her face.

"Wow," she said. "That was pretty hot. Mind if I go freshen up "

"Not at all," I said, stuffing my wet cock back into my pants and making room for her to get out. I watched her juicy, round ass sway all the way up the aisle until she disappeared into the restroom.

I shook my head in disbelief at what had just happened, and actually pinched myself to make sure it wasn't a wet dream. Suddenly I was immensely drowsy, a combination of the late hour and having been utterly drained. My eyelids were heavy and I couldn't keep them open. I felt my head drop, and I was out. A minute later, though, I was startled awake by a voice.

"Mind if I get back in here?" said Kristi. As she slid in, I had a brief moment of panic that it had all been a dream. "Could you hold onto these for me?" she said, dropping her wadded up panties in my lap. All panic was replaced by euphoria.

"Sure thing," I said, smiling at her. Putting them in my pocket, I could feel they were saturated with her sweet juices. "How about we catch a few Zs?" Though my heart was still racing, my eyes were heavy.

"Not a bad idea," she said. Once again she drew her feet up onto her seat, but this time she leaned up against me, head on my shoulder.

In mere moments our bodies relaxed into each other and we were headed off to sleep.

---

To be continued?

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/3iqq7t/red_eye_mf