Submitting Abroad: Part 1 [MF/MFF] [mast][oral]

**Note from the author**: Hello! I’m Alice. This post is the first in my “Submitting Abroad” series, the rest of which has already been drafted. I’m currently working on editing it down into parts, which I’m aiming to upload twice a week.

Feedback is greatly appreciated, both on content and writing style! Requests for future works are accepted as well, if messaged privately. My dream is to one day take commissions, but for now I’m content to try and build a name for myself.

Thanks and enjoy!

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It was during my senior year of university that the opportunity arose: a semester abroad in the heart of Italy, Roma herself. It had always been my dream to live outside the States for an extended period of time, and coupled with my passion for Roman history and collegiate focus on antiquity, it was the perfect finish to an arduous scholastic career.

Now I found myself at 35,000 feet over the Atlantic, alone, having left the few good friends that I still had back in Los Angeles. My parents hadn’t come by to see me off, nor had I expected them to. They had effectively cut me off earlier that year after discovering some unwelcome news about my sexual orientation.

I slumped down in my chair as the emotions of remembrance washed over me, quickly replaced by my own sense of self-determination. I couldn’t force someone to love me, after all, and if the fact I was as attracted to girls in addition to guys bothered them, then that was their burden to bear. I was striking out on my own.

A sudden snore from my neighbor interrupted my thoughts, despite the empty seat between us. Once we had gotten over the ocean, the cabin lights had been turned off, prompting many of the passengers to nod off. He appeared to be in his mid 30s, dark hair with a hint of stubble over his well-defined, olive skin. Italian, perhaps. My mind began to fill with fantasies of who he was, what he did, where he was going. A simple t-shirt and gym shorts, obviously worn in comfort for the plane ride, sat in contrast to the expensive watch on his currently limp wrist. A man of means, it would seem.

I watched his chest rise up and down, his nostrils flare slightly in his sleep. I felt my own breathing quicken slightly, matching his. Was I starting to get turned on, by this peaceful yet incredibly toned Mediterranean man? The thought of it startled me, followed by a rush of desire to see what was below that shirt and shorts. My nipples hardened at the thought, as I began to grow wet.

Surely now would be a terrible time, right? I glanced around the dark of the cabin. Across the aisle an elderly couple looked practically sedated, and surely a quickly passing stewardess wouldn’t notice. This was crazy, but the frenzied state I had worked myself in demanded I take some sort of action.

I tore open the plastic sealant for the flimsy blanket that had been provided to us upon boarding; it would have to do. Sufficiently covered, I undid my seatbelt and slipped my own shorts and panties down, the cool of the seat upholstery on my exposed ass only serving to excite me further. I slid a hand down my neck, across my breasts and stomach, lower, lower, lower. Finally I found my mark.

I was on fire, my fingers working away at my pussy desperately. What had gotten into me? How could I get so turned on by a stranger? Though my self-questioning faded away as I fully indulged in pleasure. In my mind, my own, slender hand became the muscular counterpart of my neighbor. If only.

Visions of our imagined fling raced together: me laying on top of him, raven hair plastered across my face, as one of his hands groped my breast while the other inserted strong fingers into my pussy. I was nearing climax, which meant one last indulgence. His groping hand would stop, pinching a nipple before moving up to wrap around my neck. The feeling of being dominated, owned even, overwhelmed me. Make me yours. Make me yours.

I came, knees pressed together as the waves of orgasm washed over me. I rode the feeling, eyes closed as my vision slowly faded away. If only.

To my horror, upon opening my eyes, I found another pair staring back: a beautiful pair, deep green, piercing me. My imagined lover was awake, and acutely aware of my actions. The afterglow of my release was quickly replaced by shame, especially as I slowly removed my own hand from my neck.

My ass was soaked.

For what felt like ages, he did not say a word, only observed me. One of my hands was still between my legs, yet I dare not move it.

“What were you imagining?” he asked, thick accent confirming my earlier assumption. What did I say now? Surely I couldn’t-

“You,” I heard myself answer. I was lost in his eyes, in my own emotional vulnerability. I wasn’t thinking straight.

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, holding my gaze. I was transfixed, entirely unable to escape his view. Make me yours. Make me yours.

The warmth of a hand on my thigh shook me out of it, and I looked down to see he had reached under the blanket. His fingers caressed the top of my leg, sending shivers of pleasure up my spine. Was this really happening?

He took his sweet time, inch by inch moving along my bare leg, my stomach, my breasts until he arrived at where he knew I wanted to be grabbed most. Powerful hands gripped the pale white skin of my neck, and I succumbed to his touch. He pulled me down, face first into his groin where a now exposed cock lay awaiting my services. Before I could tell what was happening, I was on my side, face full of dick with his hand still around my throat.

The scent of his precum subdued me further. I wanted to taste it, to enjoy every drop of this dominant man. I wanted to be his bitch. He began to pump, pushing his cock in and out of my mouth. I welcomed the feeling, the soft skin rubbing against my tongue. Fill me. Make me yours. My own hand went instinctively back to between my legs. It wasn’t every day I could get off while getting well and truly choked. I was in heaven.

Before long he erupted, streams of hot cum flowing into my mouth. I didn’t swallow right away. I wanted to savor it. For his own part he kept me in place, even after I had lapped up every drop, hand still clamped around my neck with justenough give to breathe. I was in my place; there was nowhere else I needed to be except wrapped around his cock.

Soon the darkness of the cabin settled into me, and I began to grow tired as well. I was worn out. The fingers that bound me to him relented, and my head fell to rest in his lap, mouth still full. I sucked on his cock like a pacifier, tongue moving side to side across the shaft. Before long, I was sound asleep.

I awoke to a vision of blue and the soft tones of an Italian woman speaking. Where was I? The cock, now soft in my mouth, reminded me. The blue field that obstructed my view rippled slightly, revealing itself as fabric. Glancing up, it grew into a miniskirt. I started to pull away, to save myself the shame of discovery, the shame of having this woman see me naked from the waste down engorged on this man’s flaccid cock, but a firm hand leapt into action, keeping me in place.

This wasn’t the hand I had grown accustomed to; no, this was new. The fingers were thin and sinewy: the hands of a woman. My eyes continued up the skirt to her blouse and vest, completing the stewardess’s uniform, until they landed on her face.

She was an attractive woman, likely in her early 30s with perky breasts and a smile that flashed as she chatted with the owner of the cock. Her strawberry blonde hair was pinned up in an elegant set of braids topped with a flight attendant’s hat, outfit tied together by a rose-gold choker, difficult to spot against her fair skin.

She and the man whose lap I was in continued to chat, as if I wasn’t even there, laughing to each other in a language I didn’t understand. The sound of the jet’s engines indicated we were still in the air, and I took stock of the rest of my surroundings, at least as much as I could without moving my head.

Someone, likely the stewardess who had taken over controlling me, had hung a curtain between our row and the aisle, protecting us from onlooking gazes. Her back was up against it now, very little room on an airplane for this sort of privacy, as with her still free hand she poured coffee into a mug held inches above my head.

The man thanked her, that much I could understand, as she turned to handoff the pot to another attendant on the other side of the curtain, releasing her hold on my neck. I remained motionless; this was my duty now, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee and cock went well together. I heard the man take a deep drought, sighing to himself contentedly.

I closed my eyes and slowly ran my tongue around the tip of his penis, mulling over the scene I had awoken to. I wasn’t sure what position I was in with these people, but making sure he was happy couldn’t hurt. The stewardess had seemed in a cheery mood, which to me meant everything was ok. Perhaps this was a regular antic of his?

“Ciao, bella,” whispered a silky voice, inches from my ears.

I opened my eyes to find the beautiful face of the attendant immediately in front of mine, red lipstick and pearl earrings accentuating her lovely features, kneeling on the ground in the space between his legs. She leaned in to kiss my cheek, a perfectly normal, Italian greeting if there hadn’t also still been a cock in my mouth. I breathed in her scent, perfume wafting off of her in the confined space: another aroma that paired well with my current situation.

As she removed her face from mine, she planted her own tender kiss on the soft shaft. Clearly these two knew each other better than I had initially assumed. Second kiss out of the way, she rested her chin on the seat cushion, nose touching the base of his cock and face once again mere inches from my own.

“I see you were the entertainment for tonight,” she cooed, smiling up at me. “But, Mr. Gallo has a further proposition for you, which would require your continued services.”

She raised a hand to brush away some loose strands from my face, her palm coming to rest on my cheek. For her own part, she had begun rubbing her nose and lips on what I now knew was Gallo’s cock, starting to bring it back to life. I could feel it begin to stiffen in my mouth.

“Your schooling would be paid for; your food, clothing and expenses covered as well,” she paused, tongue outstretched as she licked up and down the shaft of the now rock-hard cock, brushing against my own lips that remained glued to the tip. I was transfixed by the erotic display I was somehow taking part in. I had known I was attracted to women, but had never been this intimate with one, growing further turned on with each brief contact we made. My pussy was begging to be played with, lower half still entirely exposed.

She raised a hand to the shaft and pulled it gently out of my mouth, holding it between us as she continued, working her hand slowly up and down as if she were a masseuse. I yearned to grab it myself, but didn’t dare defy her.

“You would also have alternative housing, though I assure you it is far nicer than your current arrangements. It is a bit farther from school, but we would arrange for your private transport as well.”

Finally, she took the cock in her own mouth, bobbing up and down, maintaining eye contact with me. I could see it in her eyes: the question. Yes, or no? Do you want this? Do you want what I get to enjoy, the feeling of being someone else’s? The financial promises felt entirely secondary to the invitation to continue being dominated. I wanted to submit.

I watched as the cock swelled in her mouth, cum undoubtedly filling it. She smiled and winked at me; she had earned it, not me. She was a professional, and I was nothing more than a cocksleeve. Job complete, she removed her lips from the shiny cock, and to my surprise advanced towards my own. An inch away, she stuck her tongue out, covered in cum. The gesture was clear.

I suckelled her tongue, taking it as far into my mouth as I could. I wanted every drop that she had collected on it. I wanted her in me. I wanted to submit. The taste was even better the second time around. The added aroma of this beautiful woman that was graciously allowing me to claim her prize only heightened the experience.

Once I was sure I had worked her tongue for everything that I could, I reluctantly removed my mouth. The smiling face in front of me kissed my cheek again.

“That is a yes then.”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/jv9q85/submitting_abroad_part_1_mfmff_mastoral