FICTION: Cum fly away aka the friendly skies

As soon as the seat belt sign was off, we were up. Not at the same time, of course. I let her go first. We didn’t want to alert the stewardess. After all, the captain did not turn on the “You Can Now Fuck in the Bathroom” sign.

I had an excuse, though. My biggest fantasy was to join the Mile High Club. I had flown, maybe, a hundred times, thanks to my job. But I had never taken the sexual leap. I never had the chance. The closest I came was on a flight from Berlin to Barcelona when I briefly thought about jerking off in the john, but I did not think that counted.

My other excuse was Heather. She was flesh-colored Viagra. Sexual napalm. I could not be around her and not want to touch her in some inappropriate way. She met me at the airport in Paris. She’s British. I am American. We were going to Beijing together to cover a tech conference. I had not seen her in several months – we ran in the same business circles and would always meet in exotic places such as Rome or Tokyo or Sioux City, Iowa.

But this was our first flight together. And I knew as soon as I saw her in the airport – black business suit with a high-cut skirt, black stockings, high heels, black-rimmed glasses and her long brown hair flowing down past her white shirt collar – that I could not wait to get to China. Before the plane took off, I had my hand on her thigh, making it’s way north, my fingers playing with the elastic band of her stockings, my fingertips teasing the soft flesh underneath.

I counted to 60. Then I counted to 120, just to be safe. I saw an older guy to my right nervously checking his watch and worried for a second he might be calculating whether he should get up to pee now or wait another 30 minutes. I could not take the chance. I slid out of my seat and Usain Bolt-ed down the aisle to the first bathroom. A quick knock and a second later, we were cramped together in a small closet.

“Tight quarters,” I said, my hands already around her waist, squeezing her ass and pulling her to me. She kissed me, the taste of vodka and stale cigarettes on her breath. It was intoxicating. I tried to swallow her whole.

“There’s room for this,” I said, my hands hiking up her skirt. She had already taken off her panties, as I quickly discovered. I had two fingers inside of her before the lock on the bathroom door clicked shut.

She moaned, and I quickly covered her mouth with my hand. The room was so small, she could lean against one wall and I, if I had wanted, could lean against the other, and we could still touch.

I curved my two fingers in and against her, finding her G spot and finger fucking her while her legs shook. Airplane bathroom sex had to be fast and dirty. We were both good at fast and dirty.

I felt her legs wobble again and her eyes roll to the back of her head. I impulsively slid down her, like a snake, scraping my back against the bathroom sink. It burned, but I ignored the pain.

I wrapped one of her legs over my shoulder, my fingers sliding back into her, milking her as I sucked on her clit. I wanted her cum to drip down my wrist. I wanted her to bite her lip and fight back the scream.

She grabbed my head hard, forcing me against her cunt. Her hips moved in little circles as she got closer to liftoff. Her right hand reached out for something. I don’t know what. Just out. Finally it found the wall next to her, slamming against it hard enough to make the door shake. She came all over my hand. I watched her as she got there, her head thrown back, mouth open but no sound coming out. She was lost in the friendly skies.

I brought her back to Earth, up on my feet, kissing her hard. She loved the taste of her cream on my tongue. It was her favorite thing.

She grabbed me and spun me around, quite a fete given the closeness of our quarters. I hit the plastic commode with a thud, the lid felt cold even through the wool of my expensive Italian suit.

She pulled my legs apart and leaned over, her ass pressing against the far wall. She undid my belt and slipped my suit pants down in record time. My boxers came next. Her skirt was still hiked up above her waist. I could see black stocking, then glorious flesh, then black skirt. I wanted to lick every inch of skin.

No time. I felt her hand wrapped around my hard cock, jerking it with force. Then she sank on me. She does not normally ride me – she prefers me being behind, pounding into her – so it took her a moment to adjust to my size and me a moment to adjust to her rhythm.

We had nowhere to move but up and down, which was the only place we wanted to go. I grabbed her hips and lifted, raising my lap to slam into her. The acoustics in the lavatory were excellent. Every slap, every thrust, every sticky, wet, fleshy echo was amplified.

My cock throbbed as I sank deep into her, then back off, then back up. She was tight and eager. The plane hit turbulence, and I almost came, she squeezed me so hard. I kissed her, keeping her from screaming out. My arms reached around her tiny frame, squeezing her tight as my thighs moved back and forth, lifting her up and down.

I felt her cum dripping down my thighs. She soaked me. I reached down, sliding my finger between her legs and rubbing her clit as I fucked her faster. Faster. Faster. We needed to cum. Had to. Time was not our friend.

“Fuck, close,” she said, two magical words whispered into my ear. I lifted up, standing, not sure where to go, just knowing I needed to be deeper. She wrapped her legs around me, and I balanced us against the wall, my hands under her ass. I stood on my toes, my calves aching as she squeezed me tight. She bit my shoulder and came around my cock. That was all I needed. I got the signal from the tower.

I pulled her closer, sinking deep. I squeezed her hard and buried my face in her shoulder to keep from blacking out. I shot my cum deep inside her. I felt 13 again. Shot after beautiful shot. I had not came that hard in forever. I came so much it was dripping out before I even slid her off. I knew it was a lot when she said, “Wow,” with a proud look in her eyes.

We cleaned up quickly, adjusting what we could in such a small space. I hit my elbow twice trying to pull up my pants. We Rock Paper Scissored it to see who would go first. I lost and discreetly opened the door. No one was waiting. No air marshall. The coast was clear.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/r9h17d/fiction_cum_fly_away_aka_the_friendly_skies